Opposition
Page 22
“It means something supernatural is attacking the school,” Noah answered, none of the bitterness in his voice as he addressed Rose. He sounded tired. Tired, unsure, and scared.
“Not paranormal?” Bronte asked.
“No,” Oliver answered, and I could only imagine he shook his head, because Bronte didn’t ask for clarification.
“Then we’re out of our territory here,” Rose mimicked Noah’s exhausted tone. “We are way, way out of our depth.”
“We can’t just pack up and leave,” Bronte whispered. “Not if there’s something in this school.”
“But we don’t know what we’re dealing with,” Rose countered.
“Then we’ll do research,” Noah said. “We’ll figure it out.”
“And in the meantime, I’m putting you in danger. We’re going up against something we know nothing about, something new, which means our usual tricks might not work.”
“We don’t know that,” Noah countered. “I put up a barrier, but since the shadow never went near it—I’m assuming it didn’t. Did it, Stella?”
I shook my head.
Noah continued. “Since it didn’t go near the barrier, we don’t know if our usual tricks won’t work. Stella should at least try shouting it to pieces.”
“So much for him being afraid of your powers,” Oliver grumbled, his voice near my ear. “Do you think you could—shit.”
Molly stiffened in my arms, her grip tightening, her now-sniffling cries stopping instantly.
“You ungraceful idiot,” Cyril hissed darkly.
Bronte rushed forward, dropping down onto her knees so that she was roughly eye level with Molly, even though the girl still had her face hidden in my shirt. “Molly, sweetie, those are friendly ghosts. The one who just grazed you is named Oliver. And he has a friend with him named Cyril. They work with us, sweetie. They aren’t going to hurt you.”
Slowly, Molly raised her head. She first looked at Bronte. Then her head continued craning back until she was looking up at me, her eyes full of fear and trust. Complete and utter trust.
“They’re with us,” I agreed. “Cyril and Oliver. They’re the only two ghosts in here right now.”
Rose let out a heavy sigh. “Well, that answers that question.”
Noah nodded. “She has perceptions. Strictly through touch, it seems.”
“Which means if she can only perceive ghosts through touch,” Cyril said, “then that’s two psychics incapable of perceiving through sight seeing something none of us could.”
“We’re definitely dealing with something new,” Rose muttered. “The question is: what the hell is it?”
Chapter Sixteen
“Molly, sweetie, I need to step outside for a minute.”
Her hug around my middle tightened, her eyes widening in panic.
“You’re going to be fine,” I said soothingly, patting her back. “Everyone else is going to stay in here with you. It’ll just be for a moment.”
Bronte sat down on the bed beside her, offering her hand. She gave her the warmest smile, one that could melt ice, and I could see Molly’s resolve crumble in her eyes. Her grip loosened by stages until she felt confident enough to release me and take Bronte’s hand.
I slipped out of the room before the girl could change her mind. Then I floated down the hallway, not wanting Molly to hear me through the thin walls.
Something told me this wouldn’t be a pleasant conversation.
When I reached a good distance, I leaned back against the row of lockers and let out a shuddering breath. Then I pulled my phone from my pocket and scrolled through my contacts until I found the name I needed.
He answered on the first ring. “Well, well, well. Didn’t take long for the Scooby Squad to need an assist.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, pushing up my glasses in the process. Any other day, his arrogance would have earned a snarky comeback. But I was too tired to muster the energy to be indignant. “Don’t, Sebastian, please. Not today.”
The mocking lilt to his tone disappeared instantly, replaced by sharp concern. “What is it? What happened?”
I let out a shuddering breath. “That demon you saw. The one time you said you ran into one. I need to know what it looked like.”
“Where are you?”
“What did it look like, Sebastian?”
“Not until you tell me where you are.”
I sighed. “Home. Friendswill High School.”
The clack of a keyboard came through the phone. “You need to leave, Stella. I’ll send you the address of where I want you to go but you drop everything and you leave now, do you understand?”
“What did it look like?”
“I’m in Maine—shit. It’ll take me hours to get there. Were you the only one who saw it?”
“I’m going to hang up if you don’t tell me what it looked like.”
He sighed, exasperation flooding through his tone. “A shadow. Like a person, the shape of one, but made out of nothing but blackness. At first.”
“What does that mean?”
“Stella, please, you need to—”
“Just answer the damn question.”
He mumbled something under his breath before answering. I could still hear him typing furiously underneath his words. “It latches onto a person. It’s different from a Type 2 that way. Type 2s attack you physically. Did you ever see Paranormal Activity?”
“Yes.”
“The ghost affected the physical world and that scared the people, right? It moved the door, tracked footprints through the powder, growled, and the human minds responded with fear. But Type 3s? Demons? They can directly affect your mind. Make you see things that aren’t there. Hear things that aren’t there. Make you relive nightmares, blur the line between dreaming and reality, give you memories that aren’t real, and if it finds something in your mind, a form that will terrify you even more, it can adopt that. Type 2s hurt you. Type 3s drive you insane.”
I leaned my head back against the lockers, the soft dink of rattling metal echoing in the still hall. I closed my eyes and let out a deep breath. “Well, shit.”
“They play with their food. And the worst part is they can mask how they’re perceived.”
“How so?”
“You can hear and touch ghosts, right? With your hearing stronger than your touch? But Type 3s can mask their presence. One could be standing right beside you, reciting the Gettysburg Address, and you wouldn’t be able to hear them. Not unless they wanted you to. And they can choose how they’re perceived. If they want you to see them, you will, even if that isn’t how you normally perceive the paranormal. They have that much control over the veil that separates us from them.”
“You mentioned they play with their food?”
Sebastian sighed, his fingers finally stopping with the keys. I could hear the creak of a chair, as if he were leaning back in it. “It takes a strong perception to pick up on a Type 3. There are only a handful of us in Obscurity Consultants capable of perceiving them—again, if they want us to. It’s rare for psychics to progress to that level. So, when a Type 3 finds someone capable of perceiving them, they play with them. Drive them insane. Haunt them for their entire lives, driving them to madness or death. And then they move on, searching for the next soul to plague. Which is why you need to leave, Stella. Now.”
Molly. It was plaguing Molly.
That explained why such a lively, well-rounded girl would retreat into herself. Why she’d stopped caring about her appearance, stopped hanging out with her friends, just stopped being herself. She’d been under constant attack by a demon.
And the sickness pervading through the school. Counselor Ryan had said Molly was the heart and soul of the junior class, that she spent time with everyone. If the demon wanted to attack her mind, forcing her to watch her friends suffer would do it.
“It’s hunting a child. A teenager.”
He swore colorfully, the words drawing a ghost of a smile to my lips.
“I’m not leaving behind a child, Sebastian.”
“If it realizes you perceived it, it’s going to switch its focus to you,” he argued sharply. “It will kill the girl and then move on to you. You’re a more entertaining target. Especially with your ability. Think of the havoc it could cause if it got inside your head and convinced you to use your wording.”
“I can’t just leave her.”
“It might be the best thing to do.”
I couldn’t imagine it would be. I’d felt her shaking body, held her as she sobbed, listened to those screams. She was terrified—utterly and completely—and she’d only calmed when I admitted to seeing the thing too.
Yanking away her lifeline after I just gave it to her would gut her. And probably do more damage than the demon could. Betrayals always cut deeper.
“Sebastian—”
“I am begging you, Stella,” he said desperately. “Demons ruin people. I feel bad for this girl, I really do, and my team will try and save her. But let me save you first. Please, Stella, you need to leave. I’ll text you the address, but you need to go. Now.”
“I can’t just—”
“Quit being so damn honorable for one freaking minute, Stella,” he snapped. “I’ve seen these things work. The girl might be a lost cause but there’s no reason to let it sink its teeth into you too. Please, for the love of all that is holy, listen to me for once in your life and run from this. Please, just run.”
“And leave behind the girl?”
“Yes.”
The fact that he wanted me to do this spoke louder than his warnings. This was the man who’d threatened to bowl through me and the rest of AI to get to Cyril and Oliver if it meant protecting people. He hadn’t shied away from Roger Whitaker. Hadn’t slunk off with his tail between his legs when I’d shouted at him, my ability stealing away his free will for a moment. He’d endured, fought back, and won. It wasn’t in him to give up without a fight.
Unless he knew it wasn’t a fight he could win. He was strong, yes, but he knew and respected his limits. He was pragmatic enough to abandon a hopeless cause.
Demons. Type 3s. You didn’t win against them.
Not really.
You ran.
That was what he was telling me.
If I stayed, it would latch on. And it would eat away at my sanity until there was nothing left.
“I can’t throw a girl to the wolves to save myself, Sebastian.”
His voice softened, the desperation bleeding through his tone. “It isn’t a wolf, Stella. It’s worse—so much worse. Please.”
I opened my eyes, staring up at the row of fluorescent lights until my eyes hurt. Then my gaze slid lower, landing on the student council election flyers, the notices about football games, the school spirit posters lining the walls. At the stickers decorating the lockers, ranging from flowers to dragons to puppies.
Molly Board was a seventeen-year-old girl, terrified of a demon haunting her every step, and alienated because no one could see what tormented her.
I could see it. I could help her.
But only if I stayed.
“Stella,” Sebastian begged. “Don’t do this. Don’t—”
I hung up. The phone flashed immediately again, his number lighting up the screen. I declined the call, but even before I slid it into my back pocket, I felt it vibrating again.
Letting out a sigh, I closed my eyes. “You think I’m being stupid, don’t you? Staying to fight something I don’t have a chance of beating, all to save a girl who’s probably going to be murdered by this thing anyway?”
A coolness lingered on my cheek. “I think you’re being you,” Cyril whispered. “You’re many things: brave, compassionate, loyal. Not stupid. Never.”
A tear leaked out of the corner of my eye. Before I could brush it off, Cyril’s touch turned solid, his finger wiping it away. “I’m scared,” I admitted.
He let out a sigh. “Me too.”
Chapter Seventeen
“It wouldn’t matter if I left anyway,” I told Cyril as I marched back to the nurse’s office. “The thing knows I perceived it. It’ll come after me anyway.”
“Sebastian seemed confident that the place he wants to send you is safe.”
I shrugged. It probably was. Obscurity Consultants was an enigma, but I didn’t doubt their effectiveness. Not if they had the likes of Sebastian Adair in their ranks. Plus, they knew more about this paranormal world than we did at AI. If Obscurity Consultants had a safe house, I would have bet money it was the epitome of safety.
“Could we take Molly and run?” he asked.
“And what? Hope the police don’t send out a missing person’s bulletin because I’ve run off with a minor? Maybe you should be the one to explain to her parents why we need to take her to a ghost hunting organization’s safe house.”
Cyril sighed heavily. “Fighting isn’t much of an option. Even with your powers growing daily, we don’t know if they would be effective against a demon.”
I shuddered, stopping just outside the nurse’s door. “We have a silver lining, at least.”
“Really?” Cyril asked skeptically. “And what might that be?”
“I’m the only one it can interact with. It won’t be able to hurt Rose or Bronte, Noah, or you and Oliver.”
“I wouldn’t consider that a silver lining,” Cyril hissed bitterly.
I shrugged, turning the handle, and marched into the room.
Molly brightened considerably when I strolled in. She jumped up from the bed, meeting me halfway. She took my hand in both of hers, clasping tightly and giving me a tentative, appreciative smile.
“What did Sebastian say?” Rose asked.
“Nothing gets past you, does it?”
She shrugged, trying for a lighthearted smile but failing miserably. Looking at the others, I could see the same heavy concern on their faces.
“A Type 3,” I shrugged, using Sebastian’s jargon instead of the word repeating in an endless loop in my head. Best not to scare Molly any more than she already was. “He’s sending backup.”
Everyone except Molly stilled. She squeezed my hand and smiled up at me. “That’s good, right? And they’ll be able to help?”
Rose, Bronte, and Noah exchanged a three-way look as I gave Molly the brightest smile I could muster. “That’s really good. Sebastian’s team is the best at this.”
Molly relaxed, the burden of what haunted her easing just a little. But I could see Rose’s jaw clench, Bronte fidget with her fingers, and Noah’s shoulders droop.
I led Molly over to the bed, sitting her down beside Bronte. “But we need to know everything we can about it. How long has it been following you?”
She shuddered, the unpleasantness of it causing the relief in her eyes to dim. “For about a month. I was at school one day and it was just…just staring at me through the window slit in the door. I screamed in class, nearly gave the teacher a heart attack.”
“What does it do?” Noah asked.
She scooted closer to me, the movement so slight I don’t think she knew consciously that she did it. “It watches me as I sleep. It follows me in the hallways. And it makes me see things.”
Definitely a demon then. As if there had been any doubt.
“What kind of things?” Rose pressed gently.
Molly squeezed my hand. “Like at dinner, I think I’ll see maggots in my food. Or blood seeping from my parent’s eyes. When I’m driving, I think I’ll see a child dart into the road. Or I’ll be sitting in class and I think I see a gunman march into the room. Stuff like that. It happened a few times before I realized it was making me see them. I’ve…I’ve gotten better about not screaming when it happens.” She looked up at me, her big doe eye
s wounded. “Why is it doing this to me?”
“Because its evil,” I answered, then sighed when that didn’t seem to answer her question. “Because of your perceptions.”
“Perceptions?”
“Your sense of the paranormal,” Noah explained softly. “You bumped arms with our ghost, remember? How often have you made contact with ghosts?”
She shivered again, this time stronger than the last. “I didn’t realize that’s what they were. I’ve been bumping into invisible things since I was a little girl. My mother just thought I was clumsy.”