by Ani Gonzalez
"Where did Claire go?" Liam asked.
Kat had probably gone after the psychic. His wife still had that crazy theory about Claire having something to do with Jonas' death. Had she gone off to confront the TV star?
Elizabeth grimaced. "Claire is out chasing Lorena Wills." She glanced down at her white prom dress. "I swear, if I'd known these getups would cause this much trouble, I would have never accepted them. Who knew people would get this spooked about formalwear?"
"Spooked?" Liam asked, feeling a chill run up his spine.
"Claire went twenty shades of pale when she saw the dresses," Elizabeth replied. "And she was already rocking the bleached Morticia look." She shrugged. "And she started muttering like crazy. Something about ghosts being created or evil made manifest. She was fidgety and nervous while we filmed the contestant introductions, and she kept looking over her shoulder when we were interviewing everyone. Almost as if she expected someone to jump at her."
Someone or...something? But Lorena wasn't real and no one had died in the school, except—
"Did Claire ask about Jonas, Elizabeth?"
The real estate agent looked surprised. "Yes, she did, as a matter of fact. She wanted to know where he was found and who found him. She seemed very surprised to find out it was Kat. That really bothered her for some reason."
"Oh, really?" Liam asked. "Maybe I should go look for them."
"Would you?" Elizabeth's face lit up. "I'm not panicking yet because Sarah hasn't even started stuffing her cannoli. But it would be nice to know where my judges are. Jeff said he was going to collect data in the school library, but I don't know where Claire went."
"I think I have an idea," Liam said.
"Where—" Elizabeth's question was interrupted by a strumming guitar.
The band was starting to play. Gus, Caine's cameraman, was pulling out for a shot as Abbie's voice drifted across the room.
"Just one dance," she sang.
"I better go," Liam whispered.
Elizabeth nodded and Liam quickly walked off. Most of the contestants were still decorating, although Fiona seemed to be finished. She was staring at her cookies with a dejected look on her face. Amy and Luanne were jubilant as they stuffed their fortune cookies with white strips of paper; Sarah was spooning cream into a frosting bag, a look of intense concentration on her face; and Holly was putting the finishing touches onto her book cookies.
He paused by his sister's baking station. "Sis, do you remember Claire asking about Lorena Wills?"
Holly's brow wrinkled as she slowly traced some letters onto a green cookie. "Yep, she looked through our urban legend archives. Good thing Jonas organized that section, because it's been getting a lot of use lately."
"Wait, Jonas was in charge of that?"
"Yes," Holly replied. "He was really interested in the Lorena—" She jerked. "Wait, what am I doing? This is supposed to be a Christmas cookie."
Liam peered at the treat. It looked like a book with a pretty green cover decorated with yellow stars. The title was written in blood-red frosting.
Last Dance.
"Where did I get that from?" Holly asked. "I guess it's Abby's creepy song. It's a winter-themed high school dance. Shouldn't we have some dance music? What's with this funeral dirge?"
Liam's unease grew as Abby's haunting melody reached an eerie crescendo. "I have to find Kat. Do you know where she went?"
Holly shook her head, still staring at her cookie. "She went after Claire. Maybe to the restroom?"
"Maybe," Liam replied, although he really didn't think so. "I'll go get them. Elizabeth is looking for them."
Abby kept singing as Liam left Holly to her frosting and exited the gym.
Just one dance...One last kiss.
Holly was right. The song was kind of creepy and Abby's voice seemed to follow him as he walked past the gym doors.
Just one turn...just one breath.
He pushed the lyrics out of his head. Where would Claire go to do...whatever it was she was going to do?
What could it cost?
Before he knew it, he found himself walking toward the spot where Kat had found Jonas' body. The lights were off and the hallway was dark.
What could it hurt?
The music faded away and the shadows grew. Liam felt a familiar sensation of lightheadedness, as if he were about to faint.
The same thing he'd felt when he'd had his vision. He fought the urge and tried to steady himself.
Not real, he told himself, not real.
Splotches of light scattered on the floor. They moved rhythmically, almost as if were reflected from...
A disco ball?
A blue light appeared at the end of the hallway. Liam stared as it swayed and swung.
He heard a soft sigh behind him, a plaintive exhalation. A sigh that expected disappointment once again.
He turned as a gentle, almost sweet voice whispered in his ear.
Would you like to dance with me?
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
"WHAT ARE you doing?" Kat asked, staring at the piles of books stacked on the center table at the high school library.
Whatever she'd expected to find when she'd gone after Claire, it wasn't this.
The library was dark, except for the small banker's lamp next to the books. The lamp's green glass shade cast a sickly light over the proceedings.
The psychic witch was leaning over the table, leafing through a book and looking thoroughly stressed out. The lamp's chartreuse glow gave her the look of one of the evil witches from the Wizard of Oz. Judging from her expression, Claire expected a house to drop on her head any moment now.
"I'm doing a Buffy The Vampire Slayer reenactment," Claire said. "Wanna be my Giles?"
Whoa, sarcasm much? Claire was in a mood for sure.
"No, thanks," Kat replied, approaching the table. "I'm more the Willow type."
Claire's lip curled into a reluctant smile. "So I've heard."
Kat raised a brow. "From Jonas?"
A secretive look crossed Claire's face. "Among others."
Oh, was Claire really going to pretend that the Banshee Creek ghosts were talking to her? The woman was unbearable.
Kat crossed her arms. "Quit it with the mumbo jumbo, Claire. What's going on?"
"Mumbo jumbo?" Claire asked. "You've lived here how long, and you still don't believe?
"Of course I—"
Claire waved her into silence.
"No, you don't. Not really," she said, shaking her head. "No one does until it's too late."
"Are you referring to Jonas?" Kat asked. "He didn't think that Lorena was real, and he was right."
Claire's face softened and she glanced down at the book in her hand. "He was kind of right."
"Enough with the cryptic phrases. What do you mean?"
Claire sighed and laid the book down. "Jonas was partly right. Lorena wasn't real then..."
Claire's voice trailed off and Kat stared at her in confusion.
"...but she's real now," Claire finished.
"What?" Kat asked. "How can—"
Claire picked up a different book. "Like this."
Kat read the book's title. "The Lady of the Falls: A Hundred Banshee Creek Legends."
"What does this have to do—"
Claire gave an impatient sigh. "Some ghosts are actual dead spirits, but others are not. They're accumulations. Sometimes it's the same event occurring several times. Other times, it's stories that stick around and become associated and ultimately imprinted on a place." She pointed at the book. "There are at least fifty-two different legends involving Banshee Creek Falls. Several suicidal Native American princesses, two doomed Civil War nurses, a high school girl who killed herself in the nineteen-forties."
"No one ever found a death certificate for that girl."
"Exactly," Claire said. "There was no girl. Just like there were no Colonial-era princesses and no nurses stationed near Banshee Creek during the Civil War."
"So.
.."
"There's just the entity in the falls that manifests as a doomed young woman," Claire explained. "Just like..." She waved a hand, as if encompassing the shelves, or the library, or...
The whole school.
"You mean here?" Kat asked, incredulous.
Claire pointed toward the pile of paperbacks. Most were popular teen books, many in the horror genre. Carrie by Stephen King, of course, followed by Prom, Bloody Prom. Then there was My Bloody Valentine, Prom Queen Madness, and The Slasher Clique.
"Okay, so there's a theme," Kat conceded.
"And it goes pretty far back." Claire pointed toward another pile of books, this time old hardcovers with frayed edges.
The Decameron. The Masque of the Red Death. Danse Macabre.
Kat picked up one of the books. A picture was engraved on the cover.
A tower silhouetted against a cloudy sky. Thunder and lightning and bodies falling down.
A chill ran down her spine. It was just like Luanne's card. She put the book down and picked up the next one. That one had a knight figure playing a board game with a skeleton. The next one had merry figures dancing around a tall figure with a skull mask, which was even worse, given the prom theme for the night.
Claire's research had taken a dark turn, hadn't it?
"What's going on, Claire?" Kat asked. "And what does it have to do with Jonas' death?"
"I don't know," Claire confessed wearily. "Something is coming into being, but I don't understand what it is or how it's manifesting. Somehow, everything has coalesced around this girl who supposedly died in the eighties, but I'm not sure how."
"Like the Mapuche mythology," Kat said.
"Something like that," Claire frowned. "But I don't see how it has anything to do with Jonas' death, unless—"
"Unless Lorena did kill him."
Claire nodded.
"But that's ridiculous," Kat said. "She doesn't exist."
"There are some materials going around," Claire said. "Books and videos and that kind of thing. They've become quite popular and have concerned me for quite some time because it means that certain entities may be..." She shook her head. "No, it's too hard to explain. Suffice it to say that Lorena didn't exist before, but she does now. She wasn't dangerous before," she paused dramatically, "but now it's a different story."
Kat considered that. Claire, she thought, was being straight with her. She really did think Lorena had killed Jonas. It fit with the Mapuche and Chilote research the psychic witch had done. That mythology dealt with deadly creatures that were ruthless manifestations of ancient forces.
So Claire was being honest.
The question was, was she right?
The banker's lamp suddenly turned itself off. Kat and Claire stood, silent, in the dark. A low musical hum filled the room.
"What was that?" Kat asked.
Claire put a finger to her lips. The lamp turned on and off, rhythmically. The humming grew louder, sounding more like...music.
Very familiar music. Kat relaxed. It must be Abby singing. Liam had spent most of the morning fretting about the electrical system. That must be what they were experiencing, just a glitch—
Claire grimaced and bent to reach under the table. "Disco? Are you kidding me? Whoever heard of a disco-dancing ghost?"
Kat jerked. Claire was right. This wasn't Abby's song.
It was Donna Summers' "Last Dance."
"In the eighties, you say?" Kat murmured, suddenly noticing that Claire was holding a long rifle.
No, it wasn't a real weapon. It was a paintball gun, the kind that shot pellets. It wasn't actually dangerous.
Although that depended on what was in the pellets.
Claire nodded, heading for the door with her dangerous-looking toy. "Not the best music decade, I know, but beggars can't be choosers."
"Let me get this clear," Kat said, her voice shaky as she struggled to keep up. "You think magical forces are coming together to manifest a primal evil as a teenage girl in a neon-colored prom dress dancing to a crappy disco song?"
And you were frightened enough to bring a weapon? She wanted to add that, but didn't. The point was obvious though.
Whatever was out there was scary enough to cause Claire Delacourt to pack some heat. True, the heat came from the general direction of the local Toys 'r' Us, but Claire handled it as if it had real firepower.
"Well, not dancing," Claire, clarified. "She never actually gets to dance. That's the point."
"Excuse me?"
"The boys are the ones that dance," Claire said, opening the library door.
"And now they dance until they die."
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
THAT ISN'T Abby's song.
The thought flashed through Liam's mind, but was quickly overtaken by more urgent matters.
Like the man currently having a nervous breakdown in front of him.
"That's the song," Jeff Santos exclaimed, frantically waving his wand around. "That's her song."
The statement didn't come as a surprise to Liam because Santos had spent the previous five or so minutes ranting about Lorena Wills.
Which hadn't seemed all that strange at first. After all, just a few minutes before Liam had confused the blue of Santos' sensor with a ghostly female in a billowing prom dress. He'd even heard the ghost whispering in his ear.
He'd been relieved when he'd realized that the lights were only the paranormal investigator up to his usual tricks.
And the voice? Well, that was probably his own overactive imagination.
His relief was short-lived, however, because he quickly realized that Santos had gone completely over the bend. So Abby's band was playing a disco song, what was so strange about that? They were going for a winter prom theme, weren't they?
"She's real," Santos hissed. "I knew it."
The hallway lights were still flickering in their disco rhythm. The effect was disconcerting and a bit dizzying.
"That's great," Liam said shakily. "But I think we should go back to the gymnasium. The judging will start soon."
Santos paid no heed, his eyes were riveted on the sensor screen, and he was muttering under his breath. "EMF readings off the chart. No EVP. No cold spots...yet."
This guy was not gonna quit, was he?
"They're going to need you guys soon," Liam said, trying to keep Santos on topic. "Have you seen Kat or Claire by any chance?"
Santos' face darkened. That was apparently the wrong thing to say.
"Claire?" he growled. "She is in the library, trying to undo all my hard work."
Liam took a step back. Santos' eyes seemed to be glowing with an inner fire. The music around them grew louder, almost spastic.
"I'm sure Claire supports paranormal investigations as much as everyone—"
Santos' eyes flashed. "Oh, you'd think so, wouldn't you? You'd think someone who talks to ghosts would be interested in summoning a spirit, wouldn't you?"
Liam froze. "Summoning?"
Hadn't Kat mentioned something about Claire researching spirit summonings? He vaguely recalled a conversation about South American rituals and evil influences being made real. Looking into Santos' unfocused eyes, Liam realized that he should've paid more attention to his wife.
"Yes, summoning." Santos' smile became sinister. "That Jonas kid didn't think about that, did he?"
"I don't know," Liam said slowly. "Did he?"
He'd read somewhere that echoing helped calm crazy people—or maybe he'd seen it in a police procedural television show. It seemed to work, though. At least Santos stopped shaking his sensor. Good thing, as the eerie blue light bouncing around the hallway was making Liam queasy.
"He said Lorena wasn't real," Santos continued. "That no such person ever existed. But that can't be true. I've done three shows on Lorena. My listeners love her because of the Carrie connection. I have a book about her coming out in a few weeks, Terror at Banshee Creek High. This cooking contest is part of my book promo."
"I see," Liam pr
ompted, even though he didn't at all.
"So what if I didn't check the town library?" Santos growled. "Who has time to visit every single library in every little town that has an apparition? He threatened to discredit me, so I told him I'd fix it before the competition."
"Fix it how?" Liam asked, dreading the answer.
Santos' eyes widened and he put up his hands. "Not like that. Nothing like that. I just thought we'd do...I found this book that said we could manifest a spirit."
"Wait, what book?" Liam asked.
If there was a book like that, surely PRoVE would know about it. And wouldn't they have hordes of tourists in Banshee Creek, trying to summon ghosts and demons and whatnots? What had Jeff Santos found?
"It's on the Internet. Search for Summoning the Dearly Departed for Beginners. Some guy in Louisiana sells them. I thought it was bunk—I mean the title is ridiculous, isn't it?—but if I could convince Jonas that it worked, it would keep him quiet until my own book was released." He shrugged. "I didn't much care what happened after that."
The flashing lights and throbbing music were starting to give Liam a headache. Santos' news didn't help.
"As soon as I arrived, I came to meet him at the school."
That would be shortly before Jonas' death. Kat had been right. Jonas had met with someone at the school. His wife, however, had focused on the wrong suspect.
But had she been correct about the fight? What exactly had Santos and Jonas been up to?
"Wait," Liam said. "You wanted to bring Lorena to..."
Well, not to life, right? To undeath, maybe?
"She should be here," Santos exclaimed, waving his wand around. "Can't you feel it?"
"It's just an urban legend," Liam said. "Every town has one."
The music grew louder and the lights brighter, swirling around in a dizzying display. Liam felt the floor buckle beneath him.
No, wait, the floor was fine, it was just—
"That's what Jonas said, but even he had to change his mind once we saw..." He shook his head. "No, I don't want to think about that. It was an accident."