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The Ghost Files 2 (The Ghost Files - Book 2)

Page 13

by Apryl Baker


  Fire explodes. Literally explodes through my entire body. The queasy feelings go away and are replaced by the strongest sense of need I’ve ever felt. I want him closer, need him like I need air to breathe. My fingers twist in his hair and I pull him to me, my lips softening, giving in to this demand of his.

  Eli deepens the kiss and for a few minutes we are both lost to feelings that overwhelm us. He groans and pulls away, his forehead resting on mine. His eyes are bright and dark at the same time. My ragged breathing matches his.

  “Understand now?” he whispers.

  Um, yeah, I do. I used to read the romance novels my foster moms would leave lying around. I read all about the desire that flared up between people. That’s what this is I feel around him. Desire. Not sure if I like it or not. It’s intense.

  “I’ve wanted to do that since I met you,” he confesses.

  “Even though I hit you twice?”

  He laughs, his smile contagious. “Maybe not in those moments, but yeah, even though you hit me, Hilda.”

  “Call me Hilda one more time and I really will hit you again,” I threaten half-heartedly. It’s hard to stay mad at him when he smiles.

  “Come on.” He grabs my hand and starts leading me down the hall. “I’ll walk you to your room.”

  “What if I don’t want to go back to my room?”

  He stops and turns towards me. “What do you want to do?”

  The ice creeps back up my spine and I stiffen, looking. We’re in the center of the hallway. Eli takes a step towards me, his swords swinging up at the ready.

  Every door in the hallway swings open and slams shut, causing me to let out a startled scream.

  That’s when I see him.

  Standing at the end of the hallway, the man from the porch is staring at me. His eyes are harsh, hollow. I am exactly where he wanted me to be, in the house. With him.

  He smiles.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “BOYS!”

  Mr. Malone comes barreling up the stairs about the same time Dan and Caleb race out of my room. They all come face to face with the man from the porch.

  “Mattie, you okay?” Dan asks me, a frown on his face when he notices I’m shoulder to shoulder with Eli.

  “Fine,” I tell him, never taking my eyes off the man at the end of the hallway. When Caleb goes to flip the light switch, I stop him. “Don’t, Caleb. Leave the lights off.” I’m not sure why, but I know turning the lights on will cause him to leave and I want to know why he’s so eager to get me in this house.

  The man cocks his head and looks at me, his gaze assessing. He’s dressed in a black suit and my mind immediately goes to Poltergeist with a twist of Phantasm. I watch way too many scary movies.

  “Who are you?” I ask him.

  “This is my home,” he replies. “Who are you?”

  “This isn’t your home anymore,” I tell him softly. “You’re dead.”

  “Yes,” he agrees. “It’s a very unfortunate state of affairs, isn’t it?”

  “Mattie, I don’t think it’s a good idea to talk to it,” Dan whispers in my ear. I hadn’t heard him move up behind me, but then I am a little preoccupied.

  I give him my best exasperated look. True, this ghost scares the bejeezus out of me, but if I can talk to it, I might figure out what it wants from me. “He’s not an it, Officer Dan. He’s just a lost soul who needs some help.”

  The ghost bursts out laughing. I glare at him, which only makes him laugh harder.

  “Squirt, I can see it, which means it’s not the type of ghost you’re used to. That thing is not lost or in need of help. It’s something that has been warped and twisted, something that hurts others because it likes to.”

  “Your beau is right about that, young one,” the ghost wheezes. “I love to hurt others. Always have.”

  I can hear his intent to hurt me in his tone and I’m ever so glad no one else here can. They wouldn’t let me try to talk to him if they could. I need to understand why I’m so important to him. Even now, when I feel all his glee at the thought of causing me pain, I can feel his need to have me here. It’s very confusing.

  “He’s not my beau,” I reply, switching to an internal chat so no one else can hear what we’re saying. Dan is a lot of things to me, but my beau he isn’t. Nor does he want to be. He chose Meg. It was easy with her. That still stings, I realize. More than stings, it hurts down to depths of my soul. I can’t dwell on it now though, so I push it aside. “Why do you want me here?”

  The ghost sighs. He looks much older than he had when I first saw him on the porch upon my arrival.

  “You are special, girl. There are only a handful of people with abilities even close to your own, but none quite like you. I felt you when you entered the city, knew you were on your way to me. With you, I can cement my control over all of them.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  “My souls, they have been growing stronger over the decades, some almost as strong as I am. I will not lose control of them, child. Your soul will give me the power I need for an eternity. Your light will feed me until I grow so strong, nothing can hurt me.”

  I take a step back at the malice and determination in his voice. Dan is a solid wall at my back and I lean into him. The ghost in front of me is like nothing I’ve ever felt before. It’s so sure of itself. Most ghosts are lost, unable to move on because they either don’t realize they’re dead or plain old refuse to admit the fact of their demise. This one relishes being dead, he loves the power he gains from the souls around him. It’s disturbing.

  “You okay?” Dan whispers.

  I nod, even though I’m not. Just being in this ghost’s presence is draining. He saps all the energy out of me from over a hundred feet away.

  “Can we just kill it?” Eli asks, his voice bored. “Why talk to it?”

  “This is her thing, let her do it,” Dan tells him, his voice sharp. I roll my eyes. He’d just asked me why I was talking to it not five minutes ago.

  “That little stick of his can’t hurt me,” the ghost whispers.

  “He says it can,” I counter.

  “Let him try,” the ghost smirks. “You need to understand that no one can save you from me.”

  “He says your sword can’t hurt him,” I tell Eli hesitantly. I’m not too sure I want Eli anywhere near him.

  “Really?” Eli laughs and saunters towards the ghost. The man grins wider, but doesn’t move as Eli swings…and swings…and swings. The sword slashes again and again, but to no avail. Eli stares at the man, dumbfounded. I can sympathize. It’s how I’m feeling right now. If a holy blade can’t kill it, how can we hope to?

  The man laughs and suddenly Eli is airborne, flying backwards. He crashes into me and Dan. We all go tumbling backwards. I frantically try to free myself from the mass of limbs, but Eli is too heavy.

  I blink and the man is crouched down in front of me. His blue eyes are hard, a killer’s eyes. He traces his hand down my cheek and I shudder. His touch freezes the blood in my body, my bones scream in protest. My teeth start to chatter and I push backwards, but Eli is completely unconscious on top of me. Dan is working to push himself up, but I can’t help. The ghost in front of me has all my attention.

  “You see, girl, there’s nothing you can do to stop me. Before this night is out, I will have you.” He stands up and looks over to where Caleb and Mr. Malone are standing. “Tell them to leave this place now and I will spare all of them. You’re the only one I want.”

  With that he vanishes.

  Chapter Nineteen

  I stare at the room Eli picked for himself. The walls are a dark gold and the furniture all dark mahogany wood. The bed clothes are done in shades of cream and chocolate. It’s a very masculine room. It also has its own en suite. Leave it to Eli to find one of the few rooms with its own bathroom.

  The boy in question lay on his bed, unconscious. His father and Caleb had moved him here and then they’d gone back out into the hallway to argue abo
ut the best course of action. Doc had finally showed up as well. He said he’d been watching from the control room and had gotten all sorts of readings. Here we’d all been facing a possible hostile situation and he’d been recording data. I know I shouldn’t be surprised, but I thought he’d have at least been concerned enough about me to come help.

  As kind as Doctor Olivet has been to me, I guess he’s like everyone else. When it comes right down to it, it’s all about him. Never mind anyone else.

  I laugh at my own bitter statement. Over the last couple months, I’ve grown completely jaded and bitter. I know it and so does everyone around me. I can’t help it. After everything I’ve been through, I have every right to a good sulk. Even Dan turned out to be less than the perfect guy I thought him to be. Why can no one ever just put me first? Why can’t I have someone care about me so much the only thing that matters to them is me? I just want someone to love me like that and I don’t think I’ll ever have it.

  How very maudlin I sound tonight. Eli mutters something and I turn my attention back to him. He is quite possibly the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. A guy would never take kindly to being called beautiful, but that’s the only word I have to describe him. He looks very young too, with his face relaxed. There’s a tiny scar on his chin that should mar his looks, but it only makes him appear all the more beautiful for being flawed. He’d said he didn’t believe they carried an angel’s blood in them, but looking at him right now, I do.

  My fingertips feather over my lips remembering the kiss he and I shared before the ghost showed up and ruined the moment. I’m not sure if I’m angrier about the interruption or his wanting to eat my soul. Not only am I maudlin, I’m sounding even more fickle than I usually do. This house and yes, even Eli, are doing strange things to me, making me feel things I normally wouldn’t. I’m tired, too. I think the soul sucker ghost is feeding off me already and I don’t have a clue as to how to stop it. Maybe that’s why I’m suddenly in this odd mood.

  The light from the bathroom bathes the room in a soft glow. I’d told Mr. Malone to leave the bedroom lights off so that when Eli woke up, he wouldn’t be blinded. Caleb had switched on the bathroom light instead. He didn’t want us in the dark. Who can blame him after everything that’s happened tonight? I know I should be more alarmed at everything, but I just can’t. I feel detached, morose.

  “Emma Rose…”

  My head snaps up. Where did that come from? It’s not even cold…yes it is, I’m just so cold already I hadn’t noticed it. The light in the bathroom has dimmed and I can hear the water dripping. When did that start?

  “Who’s there?” I ask, feeling no fear, just a sense of the inevitable.

  All I can hear is the drip, drip, drip of the faucet.

  The bathroom door widens, an open invitation to enter. Why not, I think. It’s not like I’m going to survive the night anyway. I’m ghost food one way or another. Why not tempt fate?

  Standing up, the first thing I notice is that I’m not really standing. I’m fast asleep in the chair beside Eli’s bed. If I weren’t in such a weird mood, I might actually be freaked, but as it is, it’s a curiosity and nothing more.

  The bathroom is the same studio from my dream and the painter is muttering something as he works. The familiar scent of blood wraps around me as I move into the room. His work is still morbid but it’s also beautiful. The art inspires emotions. The haunting look captured in the eyes of the models moves you to feel pain, fear, and grief. He’s grieving, I realize. That’s why his paintings are so dark and full of pain. They’re a reflection of him.

  “Hello?” I call out, not wanting to startle him. I know what it feels like to ruin a perfectly good painting or drawing because one brush stroke ran awry.

  “There’s something just not right about it,” he says. “What do you think, Emma? What’s missing?”

  “My name is Mattie,” I tell him, but step closer to look at his work. The woman looks lost, alone, and totally heartbroken. Her face screams pain, but not a physical one. It’s the pain of grief, of loss. He’s right though, something’s missing. It lacks the life of the painting I’d seen before. There is no heart, no soul in this one. It’s dark and terrifying, but you can dismiss that. You couldn’t before. His other work kept your eyes on the painting, your heart racing.

  “There’s no life in it,” I tell him. “She’s in pain, but you can’t feel it as deeply when you look at it like you could your others.”

  “Oui, cherie!” he nods. “I knew you would see what I see. Do you understand why it is so?”

  I shake my head no.

  He points to the table behind him. The sheet covering his latest victim is sticky and blotched with old blood stains.

  “Her life gave out before I could finish it, but it was a little dull even before her soul finally left. Do you remember my last one? It glowed with life, with emotion. Can you guess why?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You, Emma Rose. You did that. It was your blood, your soul that gave that painting life. Just a few drops and you can give this one life.”

  He has my hand again and his knife is slashing. I flinch at the pain, but stare transfixed as he catches just a bit of the blood and then rushes to the painting. Just a few strokes and the image on the canvas starts to breathe. It becomes vibrant, real, and the emotions so strong, it almost drives me to my knees.

  “You see, cherie,” he coos. “Look at what your blood did. Come, let me show you more.” He holds out his hand to me and I’m so tempted to take it but I don’t know why. His eyes are still that dark bloody black of a demon’s, but I want to go to him so badly.

  “I…I can’t.”

  “Of course you can, Emma Rose,” he smiles. “You need my help.”

  “What?” I ask, startled. His help?

  He crosses the gap between us and takes both my hands.

  I scream from the pain. Cold…so cold. It feels as if my bones have turned to ice and the air in my lungs freeze up. The cold is so intense it burns and I look down to see my legs are encased in ice again. I can’t move.

  “Shh, poppet,” he whispers. “The pain is nothing but a tool. Use it. Use the pain to fight. You have to fight, Emma.”

  “Fight?” I force the word out of frozen lips. It hurts so much.

  “You’re dying, Emma, right now. If you don’t fight, there is no hope. Your soul is being drained and you’re not fighting.”

  “I don’t want to fight,” I whisper. And I didn’t. What was the point? Nothing good ever happens to me. Why not just die and be done with it?

  “What is wrong with you, Emma Rose? This is not who you are. You always fight.”

  “That’s the point,” I shout, forgetting the pain for a moment. “All I ever do is fight and what good has it done me? Where has fighting ever gotten me? I have nothing and no one. I can’t even draw anymore.” I lift up my hands. “Why fight when I can’t do what I love? When I can’t trust anyone?”

  “Trust me, poppet,” he says. “If you die here, you will be trapped with all of them, feeding him for an eternity. You don’t know pain until you’ve felt your soul ripped from you, saw it eaten, and then have to go on with this hollow feeling. Don’t lose yours, Emma Rose, not yet.”

  “Who are you?” I ask again, disturbed that this madman is concerned about me.

  “It doesn’t matter,” he says. His eyes, usually full of madness and evil, shines with something akin to sorrow tonight. “What matters is that you wake up and fight.”

  “But why?” I ask. “Why do you care?”

  “Because you’re mine, Emma Rose and I will be the one to kill you. No one else. Do you understand me? Wake up, girl, and fight!”

  Hands are shaking me and I struggle against them. The pain is back and it’s all I can do to breathe.

  “Mattie, please wake up.”

  I can hear Dan, but his voice is faint, like he’s very far away. My entire body is shaking from the cold. I’ve never been this
cold before.

  “We need to get her warm,” another voice argues. “What the…why is she bleeding?”

  “Oh God,” Dan whispers close to my ear. “She’s dreaming again. It has to be the same dream…”

  “What are you talking about?” I feel Eli’s warm breath on my face. When did he wake up?

  “Right before she came here, she had a dream about a guy who cut her wrist. When she woke up, her wrist was bleeding. Where’s she bleeding?”

  “Her wrist,” Eli says, confusion in his voice. “Caleb, get me something to stop this blood.”

  My eyes open and all I see is a world of aqua. His beautiful eyes are full of fear and worry.

  “Mattie?” he whispers. “Can you hear me?”

  “She’s awake?” Dan demands. “Squirt? You okay?”

  I’m too tired to answer either of them. Why am I so tired?

  Then I see him. He’s standing in the corner, unnoticed by anyone else. He’s grinning, but he looks younger than he did before. He looks alive and his eyes are glowing a rich blue. It’s my soul that’s making those eyes glow. The old man is feasting on my soul.

  He’s killing me just like he said he would.

  Chapter Twenty

  “I can’t leave you alone for even a few days, can I?”

  I force my head to turn just slightly. He’s standing in the doorway with an irritated look on his face. Eric.

  “Eric?” I whisper. “What are you doing here?”

  “Eric?” Dan asks. “Where’s Eric?”

  “Who’s Eric?” Eli demands.

  “Saving you again.” He sighs and starts towards the man sitting in the corner.

  “No,” I scream, my voice not as loud as it should be. “Don’t go near him!”

  Eric stops and looks at the man, really looks at him. His face turns horrified. “He’s…he’s…he’s consuming your energy, your soul, Mattie.”

  “I don’t know how to stop him,” I say.

  “It’s more than that.” Eric walks over to the bed. “You don’t want to stop him. Why?”

 

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