Haunted

by Tamara Thorne

  Theo moved to an empty table near the cabinets. "Put her here," she directed. "Be careful."

  He gave up holding his breath as he placed her on the table, and was again nearly overwhelmed by the noxious, sweet odors.

  "Okay, stay where you are." Theo, standing across the table from him, lovingly straightened the old-fashioned black gown Christabel wore. She lingered a moment, gently touching one cold cheek, then combing her fingers through a tangle in the thick black hair.

  "Alright, Chief," she said a moment later. "Open the other lock."

  He walked back to the cabinets and worked on the keyhole that held two tall upper doors together until it yielded. Various vials and bottles of oils and powders lined the upper shelf, while the lower contained dolls, male and female.

  "These dolls all contain souls," Theo said softly. She pointed at one. "See? It's sweet Colette. Now, Chief, I want you to carefully take them down and set them on that tray next to my body."

  There were eight of them, and each seemed to stare at him accusingly as he laid them on the tray. Dazed, he stared back. Nothing seemed real anymore.

  "There's one more, Chief."

  Slowly, he returned to the cabinet. "I don't see it."

  "In the far left corner."

  His hand closed over a cool, rough object and he drew it out It was nothing like the porcelain dolls. Instead it was a primitive female figure made of red clay. It squatted, as if giving birth, and its gaping vagina and jutting breasts were obscenely exaggerated. Erzuli.

  "Give it to me." Theo moved closer and held out her free hand.

  He made no move until she cocked his gun, then reluctantly he handed it over.

  Holding the icon protectively against her bosom, Theo gave him an ugly grin. "I have one more job for you, Chief, before we put you with your friends."

  He said nothing, but continued to watch her, hoping her guard would drop so that he could make a move for his gun, though so far she'd left him no openings.

  "Over here, Chief." She walked him back to Christabel's body and the tray of dolls, then gave him another leering smile. "You should be honored, you know. I could truss you up like I did the others, but instead, I'm going to let you help me."

  Stonily, he stared at her as she moved to the opposite side of Christabel's body. Keeping her eye and the gun trained on him, she set Erzuli near it, then reached down and gently opened the corpse's mouth.

  "Now then, Chief, we're going to begin reanimating my body. Pick up a doll. Any one will do."

  He did, without even looking at it.

  "Good Now, being very careful not to spill any blood, snap its head off."

  He heard Jerry Romero begin to moan somewhere in the shadows.

  "Do it."

  Taking the doll in both hands, he exerted pressure on the neck. For a moment he didn't think it would give, but all of a sudden it snapped off cleanly. Hot blood oozed over his hands and a sudden blast of energy swirled around him, then flew across the room to a mummified body manacled high on a wall. The ghost took form--it was a well-dressed male and seemed to superimpose itself over the hanging bones. Faintly, as he watched it writhe, Swenson imagined he could hear its screams.

  "Don't spill the blood!" Theo screamed, grabbing the doll from his hand. "I told you not to spill it!"

  She poured the blood--the doll contained at least a cup of it--into the corpse's mouth. Though he didn't see it swallow, it obviously went down smoothly.

  "Now," she ordered, "do the same with the rest of them."

  Clutching Erzuli, Theo watched critically as he snapped and poured doll after doll. Each broken doll produced an imprisoned spirit that instinctively sought out its skeletal remains.

  When he was done, the only traces of blood were the thin trickles of scarlet that ran from the corners of Christabel's mouth. All around them, the long-dead corpses seemed to writhe in their bonds.

  "Look at her, Chief," Theo murmured as she touched a finger to a drop of blood on the body's lips. "Do you see the beginnings of life?" She put her fingertip in her mouth and sucked off the blood.

  There was a subtle difference in the body's appearance now. The flesh, though still deathly white, appeared somehow less fragile, less like porcelain. The lips showed a trace of color. A chill ran down Swenson's spine as he detected the faintest of pulse beats in the long, pale neck.

  "She's nearly ready," Theo spoke Christabel's thoughts, without knowing they weren't her own. "It's been so long." She laughed with delight. "So long."

  Chapter Sixty-three

  Body House: 3:33 AM.

  Melanie, hidden beneath Amber's table, winced and massaged a charley horse out of her calf as she watched Theo Pelinore and Craig Swenson from between the folds of the velvet cloth.

  She had to do something soon, or they'd all be dead, but she still didn't know what. What if she did something stupid and got them all killed? If you don't do anything, they’re already dead. Whatever you do, it’s better than sitting on your ass!

  Above her, the table creaked as Amber shifted slightly. Melanie had cut three of the bindings and was halfway through the last ankle rope when she had to hide, hoping that Theo hadn't realized she was there.

  Squatting under the stifling velvet, Melanie absently stroked David's now-folded jackknife. Its four-inch blade was reasonably sharp, and now, as she saw Craig Swenson, and Theo behind him with the gun, slowly approaching a set of arm and leg manacles set into a portion of wall not ten feet from where she crouched, she silently opened the knife. Lizzie's instructions had been very specific: destroy the body, then destroy the doll. How? The body in question lay on a table halfway across the room, and the Erzuli figure was tightly clutched in Theo's hands, only a few feet away. Though she wasn't sure, she suspected that as soon as Swenson was trussed up, Theo would break the doll, unleashing Christabel's full power. She couldn't let that happen. How? she thought again. All the woman had to do was throw it or drop it and that would be that. There has to be a way.

  "Put them on," Theo told Swenson as she gestured at the manacles.

  "What if I don't?" Craig asked, staring directly at Melanie's hiding place.

  "We'll kill you."

  Carefully, Melanie raised the velvet so Craig could see her.

  "You're going to kill me anyway," he countered.

  Melanie held up three fingers, then made a fist, waited a brief second, then put one finger back up. On three, Craig, on three! she thought.

  Theo laughed. "If you don't cooperate, your death will be harder. But Eric will die first and that will take a very long time. You'll watch him die and I'll slice off your eyelids so you can't look away. You don't want that, do you?"

  Melanie put the second finger up. Her other hand clenched the knife handle tightly.

  "You're bluffing, Theo," Craig said.

  "You think so?" Theo cocked the gun.

  Melanie held up her third finger just as Theo pulled the trigger, and as she moved out from beneath the table, knife up, time slowed down. In the instant it took her to propel herself four feet, she heard Craig gasp, saw blood spray from his thigh before he grasped it, and heard Theo say, "I never bluff."

  Then Melanie grabbed Theo's leg and plunged her knife into the thickest part of the calf muscle. Theo screamed and dropped the gun as she tried to kick her away. Craig dropped heavily to the ground.

  Time sped up as she clung to the woman's leg, aware of nothing now except that she was twisting the blade deeper into the flesh, yanking it back and forth, mangling muscle and tendon and ligament with a ferocity she'd never known she possessed.

  Suddenly, Theo's hands were in her hair, pulling, tearing, clawing for her face. Melanie withdrew the knife and plunged it in again, behind the knee this time. She sliced sideways, feeling hot blood spray across her face as she sliced through an artery and sawed into a tough ligament. Theo's red-enameled claws raked down her forehead, searching for her eyes.

  Then the gun went off again.

  The claws
dug harder for an instant, then let go as Theo fell. Melanie rolled left as the woman landed, staring at her with huge dark eyes. A red hole gaped in the center of her forehead and, as Melanie pushed herself away, she saw that the back of Theo Pelinore's head was gone. She closed her eyes. I won 't be sick. I won’t be sick.

  "Christ, that's the first time I've ever shot anyone," Swenson rasped as he stared at the body.

  "You had to," Melanie heard herself say dully.

  "Yeah, in the line of duty." The chief laughed humorlessly. "Guess it's true about possession being nine points of the law."

  When she didn't comment, he asked, "You okay?"

  Fighting down the bile in her throat, she lifted her head so she wouldn't see what lay on the floor in front of her, then opened her eyes and saw Craig sitting propped against the wall, still holding the gun.

  "What the hell's going on?" Jerry Romero demanded from beneath the velvet spread.

  "I'm okay," Melanie told Craig. Staring at his bleeding leg, she began ripping a long wide ruffle from her dress. Then she stopped cold. "My God, the doll!"

  Craig shook his head. "It's okay. She's still hanging onto it. Look."

  "I'll take your word for it," Melanie said grimly. She finished ripping the ruffle, tossed it to Swenson, then rose shakily to her feet, turning so that she wouldn't have to look at the dead woman. Behind her, Amber sat up and pushed the heavy velvet off. "Mel, can I have the knife a minute?"

  "Yeah, hon, here, let me."

  "No, I can do it. Get Daddy out of that thing."

  "Yeah," David called.

  "God, David!" She turned and saw him, saw that he'd seen everything. "God, David, I'm sorry--" Guiltily, she gave Amber the knife and went to him.

  "That was a nice piece of work," he said as she released the latch and lifted the stock's crosspiece.

  "Thanks, I guess."

  David rubbed his neck. "Swenson, are you okay?"

  "What the hell's going on?" came Romero's muffled demand.

  "Hang on another minute, Jerry," Melanie called.

  "I'll live," Craig told David as he tied the green satin bandage in a tight knot. "One of you'd better grab that voodoo doll," he added. Slowly, grunting and wincing, he got to his feet. "I've gotta check on Eric. Gotta' get him to a hospital."

  "I'll check him." Melanie said "You stay put."

  "I thought I was going to suffocate under that thing," Amber remarked as Melanie crossed the room. Thank God she’s okay, Melanie thought as she placed her palm on Eric's pale forehead. It was clammy with sweat. She bent over him. "Eric, can you hear me?"

  His eyes moved beneath the lids and she said his name again. This time, they opened, but his gaze seemed slightly unfocused.

  "I have a headache," he said.

  "How many?" she asked, holding up four fingers.

  "Four."

  She took his hand and squeezed it. "Don't try to 'get up. We'll get you out of here in a few minutes."

  "Okay."

  She turned and rejoined the others. "He's going to be fine," she told Craig, who sat holding his leg.

  "Good," Amber said. She stood close to her father, secure under his arm. In his other hand he cradled the Erzuli doll.

  "Want me to take that?" Melanie asked, gratefully noticing that the velvet spread had been draped over Theo Pelinore's body.

  "Thanks," he said as she carefully took the effigy.

  "What now?" she asked.

  "We finish what we started," he replied.

  "Do you think we should get Craig and Eric out of here first?"

  "We should, but we don't have the time or strength," he replied. "Getting those big guys up that spiral staircase by ourselves doesn't sound too promising. Besides," he added, grimacing, "what we have to do won't take long."

  Melanie followed his gaze to the table where Christabel 's body lay. Her stomach flopped. "What do we have to do?" she asked, "to destroy it?"

  "Would somebody please get me out of here?" Jerry Romero pleaded.

  "Sorry," Swenson said.

  David started to withdraw his arm from Amber, but Melanie stepped forward quickly. "I'll get him." She'd seen enough blood for one night. Jerry Romero could help David with the burning or dismembering or whatever it was he was going to do.

  She grasped the edge of the velvet to pull it up. "I'll have you out of there in a jiff, Mr. Romer--"

  "Christ!" yelled Craig Swenson.

  Startled, she let go of the material and whirled, nearly dropping the Erzuli doll in her surprise.

  Amber stood behind her father, clutching his hair with one hand, and with the other, holding the open jackknife hard against his exposed throat. A thin ribbon of blood oozed down his neck.

  Her eyes, cold chips of ice, bored into Melanie's. "Bring me the doll."

  "Don't do it." Craig held his revolver trained on the girl.

  Christabel's chill laughter bubbled from Amber's mouth. "What are you going to do, Chief? Shoot an innocent little girl?"

  Swenson lowered the gun.

  "Now, sweetie, if you want your lover boy back in one piece, you just bring that doll to me."

  Her mind racing, Melanie took one tentative step forward.

  "That's right," Amber said, "But you'd better move faster. This knife is slipping." She laughed harshly.

  David made a strangled sound as the bloody trail on his neck widened.

  "Okay, okay." Oh, God, what do I do? She's going to kill him. She's going to kill us all! Melanie took a slow step. If she dropped the Erzuli figure, it would break and that would mean that Christabel might abandon Amber and race into her own body. But what would happen then? Would she be so powerful that they'd have no chance against her? What do I do, oh God, what do I do?

  God didn't answer, but Lizzie did. A faint swirl of lavender perfume wafted into Melanie's nose and something cool touched her cheek.

  Help me, Lizzie! Help me!

  And then Lizzie joined her, as she'd joined David to show him how to work the secret latch upstairs. She moved onto Melanie and, for one brief moment, she felt all of Lizzie's guilt and pain, all of her sorrow. Then it was all swept away as the spirit directed her attention to the collection of knives, whips, and other instruments of torture that hung on the wall adjacent to the cabinets. It was perhaps twenty feet away. The scythe, Lizzie whispered in her mind. Do you see the scythe?

  Yes. It hung like a crescent moon between two thin fencing swords. It had a heavy wooden handle and the blade was a graceful and deadly two-foot half-circle of polished steel.

  "Give me the doll!" Amber said in deadly tones. ·

  Melanie took another step. Tell me what to do!

  You must do what I could not. Sadness edged Lizzie's thought.

  Tell me!

  You must behead her.

  Oh, God.

  It's the only way.

  Tell me.

  You must break Erzuli and surprise my daughter. Throw it at her, very hard, so that she tries to catch it. I think that's your best chance to save your beloved from her knife. But make sure she can’t catch it. Throw it high. It must break! The instant it breaks, Christabel will enter her body and she'II have incredible power. You won't be able to fight her, none of you will.

  The instant you throw the doll, run and take the scythe and do it! Don't hesitate! Behead her! Finish it, dear God, finish it!

  Lizzie left as suddenly as she had come. Melanie glanced at the scythe. No, don’t think about it. You won't be able to do it. God, she doubted that she could do it anyway!

  "I guess you want me to kill him!" Amber said.

  "No... No, please," Melanie said quickly. "No. I'll give you the doll. Here--"

  In a wink, she drew her arm back and flung it with all her might. Amber instantly let go of David and dropped the knife as she reflexively reached for the doll.

  RUN!

  Lizzie's voice resounded in her ears and Melanie was off, racing for the weapon, hearing the pottery shatter as the icon struck the
wall, hearing David scream her name as she grabbed the scythe's handle and yanked. It wouldn't come loose. Frantically, she pulled on it again and it came free. It seemed to weigh nothing as she ran with it held above her head, time trickling once more.

  Christabel sat up on the table and looked at her. "You can't do it," she spat, and then she began laughing--a sound infinitely more horrible now than it had ever been before.

  Melanie froze. Lavender scent swirled through her as Lizzie rejoined her. GO! she screamed in her brain. GO NOW! Something forced her to take a step, to raise the scythe a little higher. FOR GOD'S SAKE, DO IT!

  She covered the ten remaining feet in a half-dozen running steps, refusing to hear Christabel's laughter, swinging the weapon back as she ran, as if it were a baseball bat. "Baseball," she whispered. "I'm playing baseball."

  The laughter did not stop until Melanie brought the scythe around in a perfectly controlled arc. Shocked, Christabel started to raise her hands to her face, but by the time they arrived, her head was rolling across the floor, the eyes still full of surprise, the mouth open in amazement.

  They’re free now, all of them. You did it. Lizzie, still with her, was full of joy and sadness.

  We did it, Melanie returned as she sensed Lizzie leaving her. We did it together.

  Christabel 's body slowly began to slide to the floor. She watched it, feeling no horror, only relief.

  "Melanie!"

  She turned at the sound of David's voice, but stayed where she was, waiting as he came to her, Amber right behind him. She vaguely noticed that the ghosts that had clung to their tortured corpses were gone--were free--and she thought she might be smiling, though she wasn't really sure.

  "Melanie!" David said, holding out his arms. The cut on his neck, she realized now, was very small. She was glad. She started to lift her hands to his, then realized that she still held the bloody scythe.

  David stared at the weapon. "You're amazing, Melanie."