It was either Gina or Riley, and I didn’t have time to work the knots out of Gina’s rope. Instead, I grabbed a knife from the block on the kitchen counter and hacked through the rope on her wrist. Once her hand was free, I dropped the knife in her lap so she could finish the job herself.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I have to go. Good luck.”
As the words left my mouth, Nick finally pulled the advantage over Oliver. He tugged on the handle of his cane, which detached and slid away from the larger portion to reveal a slim, tapered dagger. Nick dug the tip of the knife into Oliver’s throat, right where the ice pick had punctured Oliver’s neck previously. Blood spurted, coating Nick’s face and jacket. Oliver drew in a quick gasp of surprise. Beneath the burns, his face drained of color. Nick yanked the knife out of his brother’s throat, and Oliver’s eyes found mine across the room.
“Please,” he gurgled, blood bubbling at the corners of his mouth. “Save Riley.”
Nick dropped him, and Oliver’s ruined body thumped to the floor as he finally succumbed to his wounds. Nick wiped the knife on Oliver’s jacket and kicked his brother’s body off of his shoes.
“No!” Gina said, dissolving into tears.
“Filth,” Nick grumbled. “Absolute filth.”
“My boy,” Gina sobbed. “My son. Noah!”
“Oh, shut up,” Nick said. He spun on his heel and threw the knife across the room. Before I understood what was happening, the blade lodged itself tip-first in Gina’s throat. Her voice cut out at once and her eyes shot open in shock.
I scrambled backward, unable to look away from Gina as she expired, and slammed into the cabin door. Nick stalked toward me, but as I fumbled for freedom, he sank to one knee with a groan. His bad leg bled through his pants. Somehow, Oliver had wounded him. I pulled the dagger from Gina’s throat then stumbled from the cabin and into the frigid night.
The cabin was buried deep in the woods. I stepped off the porch and into a knee-deep snowbank. Though the forest and the sky was dark, the lights of the King and Queens ski lift shone through the trees. I waded through the snow, keeping my eyes on the lights as if they were stars guiding me home. Riley was somewhere up ahead.
As I neared the bottom of the mountain, I saw Riley’s tiny figure draped over the first chair of the lift. She was unconscious. If the lift jostled her on the way up, she’d slip right out of the chair.
“Riley!” My teeth chattered. Her name came out of my throat in a garbled, desperate yell. “Riley, wake up!”
The unmistakable sound of the lift’s motor started up, and the seats began to chug up the mountain. I let out a yell and doubled my speed. My legs burned as I lifted them above the snow to get to Riley. Right as her chair rounded the bend at the bottom of the hill and began to ascend, I grabbed the safety rail and held on tight. The chair lifted us into the air, sweeping the ground out from beneath my feet. With all of my might, I kicked my legs and pulled myself into the chair. The safety rail prevented me from sitting in it properly, but I looped my legs through the opposite side for a better grip. Riley slumped over the rail, drooling onto the cold metal. I patted her cheek as the lift soared higher into the air.
“Riley,” I muttered. “Come on, kid. You gotta wake up.”
She moaned, and her eyes fluttered open. When the wind kicked up, she shot upward. “Oh my God. What’s going on? Lucia!”
Upon realizing that I was on the wrong side of the safety rail, she grabbed my shoulders and pulled me toward her.
“It’s okay,” I assured her, though nothing felt okay at all. “We’re going to get down from here. We just have to ride the lift to the bottom again.”
“What happened?” she asked. “The last thing I remember is Nick—”
“He drugged you,” I explained, shivering as another gust of wind threatened to dislodge me from my precarious position. I fought to keep my eyes on Riley’s face. If I looked down, the distance to the ground would send me reeling. “He killed your family, Riley. I’m so sorry.”
Riley’s grip on me tightened. “But I still have you, right?”
“Yes. You still have me.”
“Where’s Nick?”
“Probably on his way here,” I admitted.
She glanced over the edge of the lift. “We have to get down.”
The lift groaned and halted as if it meant to thwart Riley’s plan, but I had a terrible feeling that something else was in control. Pressure built in my head as if someone was squeezing it between the palms of their hands. A dark shadow drew my attention to the nearest support column. The demon ghost of Richard Watson—a black mass of nightmares and shadows—crawled upward.
“Riley, don’t look.”
She spun around anyway. “Oh my God. What is that thing?”
“Your grandfather.”
Richard slunk toward us, balancing on the top of the lift chain on all fours like a monstrous cat. His shape was neither human nor animal, but rather a blend of both. As he closed in, I realized he wasn’t made of shadows like I originally thought. The skin itself was black like charcoal. The closer he got, the more my head felt like it would explode. We only had a few moments left. I took Riley’s face between my hands.
“Listen to me, kid,” I told her, focusing on her brown eyes. “I love you, and I’m sorry for everything that’s happened to you. If we don’t get out of this—”
“Shut up. I love you too.”
As the wind whipped Riley’s hair around her face, her words connected to me like a battery pack and recharged my psychic energy. The pressure in my head expired as a fresh wave of strength rushed through my body. My legs—cold and numb a moment ago—felt new again. Above us, Richard reached our chair and began to climb down.
“Mine,” he hissed in a voice made of needles. “All mine.”
“In your dreams,” I said back. I pulled Nick’s dagger and launched myself upward, using the safety rail as a jumping off point. I collided with the demon ghost and thrust the knife deep into his abdomen. Richard screamed, and his skin bubbled like lava. The searing heat made my face flush but didn’t hurt me. I pulled the knife free, hoping to sink it into Richard a second time, but he wrapped his fingers around my throat. All at once, the pressure in my head returned as he attacked my mind. This was a mental battle as well as a physical one, and I’d accidentally let my guard down. My brain screamed for relief as he sank the teeth of his energy into mine. I yelled out loud, piercing the surrounding mountains with my pain.
“Lucia!” Riley cried from below.
Richard glanced down, distracted by Riley’s shout. I lost my footing on the top of the chair and slipped. Richard caught me before I fell, hugging me to his demonic body like a lover he refused to let go of. I went limp, my mind and body falling to his control. Richard lowered himself to Riley, taking me with him. Riley shuddered as he clung to the safety rail and examined her with his blood-red eyes.
“Pity,” he whispered. “Pretty girl.”
Riley reeled back as he reached for her, but there was nowhere for her to escape his touch. His blackened limbs—something between fingers and claws—grazed Riley’s cheek. She screamed as he left four red-hot lacerations on her face. Her pain reignited my determination. I struggled through the haze in my mind, fighting to balance out my energy. I thought of everything I loved in my life: Riley, Jazmin, and even my mother. I pictured all of us together and happy, enjoying a beautiful sunny day far from Crimson Basin. My head began to clear, but not quickly enough. Richard ripped the safety rail off the ski lift chair and threw it. The twisted metal careened through the air and landed below with a magnificent spray of snow. Riley’s knuckles turned white as she held onto the chair for her life. As Richard reached for her, I thrust the dagger into the back of his neck. It was too late. He already had a hold on Riley. As he roared, head tipping back to compensate for the dagger in his spine, he pulled Riley from the safety of the chair. The three of us tumbled backward, into thin air, and plummeted toward the ground.
<
br /> The fall happened in slow motion. I spun Richard around so Riley was on top, in a position most likely to help her survive the drop. Then I stabbed Richard over and over, choosing a different sensitive point with each jab. At the same time, I attacked his mind, penetrating the darkness he was made of and piercing it with my own light. The demon shrieked and scrambled to find me. I felt his influence in my head. He poked and prodded at whatever part of my brain housed my psychic energy, but I stayed strong. The thought of saving Riley kept Richard out of my head. I caught sight of her terrified face as we neared the ground. Focusing on Riley, I thrust the dagger into Richard’s chest where his heart should’ve been.
The demon’s skin cracked and fractured like hot magma ready to erupt. Beneath the blackened surface, red and orange flames seeped out to consume Richard. I kicked him away from me and Riley, and he went up in flames right before we hit the ground. I pulled Riley close and squeezed my eyes shut, readying myself for the pain of impact.
We hit the snow like a cannonball. The flat of my back smacked against the hardened ice and knocked the wind out of me, but my bones remained intact. Something had stopped us from hitting the ground as hard as we should have. We sank several feet, and snow filled in on top of us, but we were both alive. I swept a hand through the powder until my fingers felt the frigid air above us. I shoved Riley upward, and she took a deep breath of the freezing night. With both hands, she yanked me out of the snow.
“You’re alive!” she exclaimed, giggling with glee.
“You’re alive!” I said back, hugging her around the waist. “I for sure thought we were a demon snack.”
Riley kissed the top of my head. “Nope. You won. I knew you could.”
I gazed up at the fatal distance between the ski lift and the ground. “It doesn’t explain how we survived that fall.”
Riley looked over my head. “I think I know who saved us.”
I turned around to see what she was looking at. Two figures hovered nearby, the same pearly white as the glistening snow: Stella and Odette.
“It’s you,” Riley said to Odette. “You’re the one who used to visit me.”
Odette smiled and nodded. “You made me hot chocolate even though I couldn’t drink it.”
“You seemed to like it,” Riley said. “So you’re my aunt, huh? Kinda weird.”
Odette gestured to her adolescent body. “We get trapped in the body that we died in. I would’ve liked to have grown up to know you, Riley. We would’ve really gotten along.”
“I would’ve liked that,” Riley said. She turned her attention to Stella. “I’m sorry for the way Richard treated you. It must have been difficult for you. Still, you’re my grandmother, and I love you.”
For the first time since I’d met her, Stella dropped her lofty superiority. Her bottom lip trembled as she clasped Odette to her side. “You’re a wonderful young woman, Riley. I hope you lead a beautiful life.”
A snowmobile ripped up the hill, the roar of the engine ending the conversation. Nick steered the machine, aiming it at Riley as if he intended to run her right over, but Stella and Odette stepped in front of him. Nick’s eyes widened at the sight of his dead mother and sister, and he veered off-course to avoid hitting them.
“Oliver William Watson,” Stella scolded. “You will not harm those girls. Do you understand me?”
“M-Mom?” Nick said. “What are you doing here? I’ve never seen you before.”
Stella moved toward him. “You’ve lost your way, Oliver. Come back to us.”
“No!” He scrambled off the snowmobile in his haste to get away from her. “Stay back!”
But Stella continued to advance, a peaceful smile on her face. Odette held her mother’s hand.
“It’s time, big brother,” Odette said. “Come with us.”
Nick screamed as they closed in on him. He ran from them but stumbled and fell in the deep snow. Stella and Odette’s pearly figures surrounded him, boxing him into a wall of white. I felt his energy drain from his body as his family took what he had stolen from them. When Stella and Odette disappeared, I knew they were gone for good, finally able to cross over to whatever world came after death. Nick Porter lay vacant-eyed in the snow, only a shell of the man he used to be.
“Did they kill him?” Riley whispered.
“No,” I said. “He’s breathing.”
Red lights flashed as White Oak’s mountain rescue team crested the hill on their own snowmobiles. Four of them surrounded me and Riley. The first rescuer, a stocky woman who wore a Leader’s patch on the sleeve of her red jacket, dismounted and took off her helmet.
“Are you all right?” she hollered over the roaring wind as she unfurled a warming blanket and wrapped it around Riley’s shoulders.
“Cold,” I called back. “How did you know we were here?”
“Some reporter called it in,” she replied as another rescuer provided me with a blanket. “Calvo, or something like that. Let’s get you inside to warm up. Is that Mr. Porter?”
“Yeah. He’s going to need to go to the hospital.”
The woman signaled the members of her team. “Let’s move it, boys.”
As the other rescuers tended to Nick, Riley and I climbed on the back of the leader’s snowmobile. I locked my arms around Riley.
“Ready?” the rescuer asked, turning the key.
“Ready,” Riley and I replied.
And we plunged through the snow toward the safety and warmth of White Oak.
Epilogue
The grand opening of the Crimson Basin Wildlife Refuge and Recreational Park was the day after Riley’s eighteenth birthday. A fancy car, complete with heated seats and a chauffeur that held a sign with my name on it at baggage claim, picked me up from the airport and drove me up the mountain. I hadn’t returned to Vermont in five years. Ever since Madame Lucia’s Parlour for the Dead and Departed got picked up as a narrative cable show—starring me as Madame Lucia of course—I’d been enjoying my new life in Los Angeles. The sunny climate was more my speed, but I couldn’t help but feel a certain twinge of nostalgia as the car wound its way through the snowy hills.
An enormous crowd gathered in the front loop of Crimson Basin’s new building. Apparently, news of my arrival had spread. As the chauffeur parked and opened my door for me, the throng pushed forward, clamoring for my autograph before I’d even stepped out of the car.
“Out of the way, out of the way!” ordered a sharp voice. Lourdes pushed through the throng of excited fans, holding a clipboard in one hand and a disgruntled bell boy in the other. Jazmin, wearing an excited smile, followed closely behind her.
“Hi, best friend!” Jazmin said. She hugged me tightly then held me at arm’s length to get a good look at me. “Wow, you look amazing. Is that tan real or fake?”
“You’ll never know,” I replied.
“You’re late,” Lourdes said, checking her clipboard. “We expected you a half hour ago. You can’t go throwing off the program like this all the time, Lucia.”
“The flight was delayed, Calvo.” I accepted a permanent marker from one of the fans and began scribbling autographs as quickly as possible. “Blame the snow and the rain. How’s the grand opening ceremony coming along?”
“It’s a disaster,” Lourdes said, ushering me inside. The fans booed her. “Oh, shut up! You’ll have plenty of time with her later.”
“Tell me why you made her head of PR again?” I muttered to Jazmin.
“Because she’s annoyingly good at it,” Jazmin replied. “And Riley isn’t easy to control. Did you see what she said on the news yesterday?”
“About the new environmental law?” I said. “Yeah, I caught it. So what? You don’t agree?”
“It’s not about whether she agrees or not,” Lourdes said over her shoulder as she led us toward the sliding doors of the renovated building. “Riley shouldn’t involve herself in politics. It’ll alienate half of Crimson Basin’s potential customers. We want people to come ski here, not debate t
he owner’s view on environmentalism.”
“Crimson Basin is a wildlife refuge now,” I reminded them. “Riley’s goal was to turn this resort into a place where people could ski and appreciate how unchanged nature is here. It would be worse for business if she didn’t defend environmentalism.”
“Well, she doesn’t have to be so blasé about it!” Lourdes argued. “I’ve got enough press to handle with the opening. I don’t have time for Riley’s political agenda.”
We entered the newly renovated lobby of the resort. The place looked completely different. After Oliver’s death and the declaration that Nick was no longer mentally able to care for his business, Riley inherited everything the Watson half-brothers owned. Over the last five years, with a personally selected board of trustees at her disposal, Riley made it her personal goal to repair the damaged reputation of her family’s name. Riley Watson became everything her predecessors failed to be: a kind but stalwart philanthropist with a heart of gold and a take-no-shit attitude. Riley made the mountain her own. What was left of King and Queens had been demolished. The land on that side of the mountain was now a reservation for the local wildlife. Riley had even built a rehabilitation center for injured animals. White Oak became the Crimson Basin Recreational Resort. According to Riley, it wasn’t sustainable to rip down the existing building just for the comfort of building a new one, so she’d gutted White Oak and renovated the interior. The cold, colorless lobby was no more, replaced with warm earth tones and a golden glow from the incoming sun.
“I don’t have a political agenda,” Riley announced, emerging from her office. It still surprised me to see her so grown up. She was tall and slender, her hair loose and wavy around her shoulders. Unlike other business owners, she didn’t adhere to a stiff dress code. Instead of a pencil skirt or a collared shirt and dress shoes, she wore heavy snow boots, moisture-wicking cargo pants, and a forest-green fleece sweatshirt with the Crimson Basin Recreational Park logo embroidered on the chest. She beamed, her cheeks pink and healthy, as she hugged me. These days, she was taller than I was. “Hi, Lucia. You look amazing. How’s L.A.?”
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