Angel Manor (Lucifer Falls Book 1) (22 page)

Freya closed her eyes to fight the strong wave of nausea.

“Stop,” she moaned, and Logan brought the car to a halt. She opened the door and leant out. A spray of white foam gushed from her mouth, leaving a burning coat of acid on her tongue in its wake. A second wave followed, cramping her stomach with stabbing pains, and then a third and final flood of vomit landed in a loud splash on the ground. She hung out of the car for a moment longer, and finally, when she was confident she wouldn’t be sick a fourth time, Freya wiped her mouth and sat back down.

“Got it out of your system?” Logan handed her a crumpled tissue, and she took it gratefully.

“Let’s hope so. Don’t want to gross you out with puking in here.”

“Hey, it’s your car. I deal with kids who have to overcome drug problems. If you think a little vomit is going to scare me…”

“Thanks.” She scrunched the tissue in her hand and stuffed it in her jeans pocket. Her eyes refused to meet his; she just couldn’t look at him.

“Do you want to go home, or do you need a little longer?”

“I feel an urge to go back to the house.” She glanced over to him this time, and noticed his knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel. Her eyes went up to his face, which was pale and drawn, and to his tousled hair.

“I feel the same urge.” His voice was low, and he gave her a solemn nod. Seconds later, they were driving back up to Angel Manor.

***

Bam watched the car approach the manor. She wrapped her arms around her shoulders, something she used to do as a child. The house was whispering incoherent sentences at her, tugging at her, demanding her servitude. Most of her soul wanted to comply, but there was a stubborn little part of her which rebelled. She wasn’t like the others, and though she couldn’t completely ignore the demands of the house, she could move more freely than the other spirits. This gave her the opportunity to stay away from her brother’s clutches. She could feel his presence, his desire for her. The house wanted him to get her – the house demanded her pain – but Bam wasn’t willing to give in just yet.

Outside, she saw her friend get out of the car. Her heart sang out to Freya, and she hoped that her best friend could mean the end of her damnation. She knew the house wanted to protect the bonded humans, and Bam hoped that she could use that knowledge to her own advantage. It was too late for Oliver. Bam felt how deeply his soul had embedded itself into the house, even more so than her own. Freya was a different story. She was tied to the house, but the house didn’t own her. Her friend still made her own decisions, and she was Bam’s only hope. She wanted nothing more than to be free from Chuck.

Chapter 18

“What’s the matter with you, Terrence?” John Norris sat next to him on the stairs they were repairing in the entrance hall. “You look like shit.”

“I’ve been having these nightmares.” Terrence rubbed the dust from his eyes and rested his elbows on his knees. The hammering of the tools thumped through his skull and his lungs burned with exertion.

“Nightmares?”

“About my brother. I keep dreaming he’s dead.”

“Jesus.” John’s meaty hand slapped on his shoulder, and his elbow slipped from the impact, causing him to almost tip over.

“The scary thing is that the dreams are so realistic, I almost believe that it’s really happening to me.”

“I had a dream like that once. I dreamt I was going to die. It was the scariest thing ever because I was just waiting for it, you know.” John rubbed his temples, his eyes far away with the memory. Terrence just nodded; the coach’s words did nothing to ease his mind.

“Yeah, it’s just a dream, right?” Long legs clad in dirty overalls stepped around him, pushing him aside to get up the stairs.

“Maybe the dream is trying to tell you something? Maybe you need to go spend some time with your brother? You could go and see him this weekend.”

“Yeah… maybe.” Terrence stared at his hands, but he knew that if he went back to Edinburgh for the weekend, he might never return. “Could be that these dreams are just me trying to sabotage myself again.”

“How do you mean, son?” John squeezed his shoulder, and Terrence felt a weight lift from his stomach.

“I don’t finish shit, that’s my problem. I find all these fucking excuses to leave before I can get the job done. Now there’s this, dreaming about fucking ghosts. And all I want to do is get out of here, but I wonder… is it because of the dreams, or am I just looking for another excuse?”

“Those are some wise words. You are a smart lad. What do you think?”

“I don’t know. The dream I had last night, it was just so fucking real. I was actually in this house speaking to my brother’s ghost. Then he disappeared and I went for a walk. I even remember crawling back in bed and everything.”

“Do you think you saw a real ghost?” The hand squeezed again.

“Nah, man. I don’t believe in ghosts.”

“And even if you did, why would your brother be all the way out here if he’d died in Edinburgh?”

“He said something about me calling him here.”

“Did you?”

“Hell, no. Why the fuck would I do that?”

“Because you miss him? Because you love him?”

“Truth is, Mr Philips, I think it might be a blessing for me to be away from Tyrell for a bit. It lessens the drama, if you know what I mean? Just… Tyrell is home for me, you know? He brings the troubles that come from home. I’m glad to be away from that.”

The coach rubbed his hand over Terrence’s short hair, and he smiled. “Good lad. I think you’ll be all right. We’ve all seen a change in you on this project. You seem serious now.”

“I am, Mr Philips, I really am.”

John got to his feet and wiped the dust from his overalls. “Logan is going to Edinburgh this weekend to get some more recruits and see if he can find out what happened to Mace and Farrow. If you change your mind about going to see your brother, let me know, okay?”

“Will do, sir… will do.” He scratched an itch behind his ear and smiled. Somewhere in the depths of his mind he heard his brother’s voice again.
“Leave.”
Terrence was determined not to let his fear get the better of him.
Not this time.

***

“You are so beautiful.” Oliver ran his fingertips over the icy skin, pale and blue veined like marble. Black eyes looked at him with longing, their hunger almost palpable. She smelled of poppies and the faintest hint of decay. “You become more alive every day. I can feel your skin.” He lowered his head and kissed her stomach. The past few days, she had cast off the diaphanous night gown and appeared to him with the promise of more than just a glimpse. All he had to do in return was bring more life to the house. She fed off their energy, and that made her more complete. Oliver could touch her now, and soon he would do more than touch. Soon she would be his. He had dreamt of her since the first day he’d arrived in Angel Manor, but the dreams had gradually become more of a reality. Oliver knew he was obsessed with this creature and he didn’t care.

“When are you going to tell me more about yourself?” He kissed her flesh again, and the woman on his bed flickered in and out of existence for a brief second. “You’re fading…” His eyes filled with panic, but she sat up and put a cold finger on his lips.

“Only for now. I get stronger every day, and soon you will be able to have me.” Her soft breasts pressed against his chest, but to his disappointment they felt only slightly denser than air.

“Let me become whole again.”

“I’m trying.”

“You know what I am, right?”

“Yes, you are Angel Manor.”

“I am. I was alive once, like you. But I became part of this house… as you have. Remember what I told you?”

“My soul… it… it’s bound to this house?”

“Yes. You are a guardian, and you are forever tied to here… to me.”

Oliver leaned his head back and inhaled, a smile set firmly on his face. “I like that.”

She shifted her shape and curled her body around him, light as air and a little warm. His penis twitched in his pants, anticipating a touch that never really came. “You are special, Oliver. You see what the others can’t. You know some of the secrets of Angel Manor, and yet you love it. Like a true guardian should. You will protect us, and you will provide us with what we need. Convince the others to help us.” Her voice tickled his cheek like a soft breeze.

“Yes, I’ll make them see.”

“They can’t leave here. The house has claimed them. If they leave, they will die.”

Oliver nodded, his eyes thick-lidded and the irises turned up, revealing the whites underneath his fluttering lids. His thoughts were no longer lucid in the spirit woman’s presence, clouded by intense emotions and longing.

“We must appease the sleeping Master. If he wakes up, we will all be doomed.”

“Yes.”

“Do you remember how to appease him?”

“Through blood and sacrifice.”

“And pain,” she added with a deep sultry voice. “Don’t forget the pain. It is pain that cleanses a soul. The blood is merely the vessel for the pain.”

“Yes, I remember.”

“Bring us life, Guardian. We crave it. The souls in Angel Manor grow restless.”

“I shall.”

“The autumnal equinox draws near. You know what to do?”

“Protect the guardians and bring more life to Angel Manor.”

“Good, you will serve us well.”

She disappeared like snow before the sun, leaving Oliver with an empty feeling, his own thoughts slowly returning to him.

“There’s not much time,” he said, still in a daze. “I must hurry.”

***

Strong hands guided Freya to the front door of the yellow-bricked building. The presence of the house soothed her, while at the same time making her uneasy.

“I’ll be damned,” she heard Logan mutter.

“Your headache is gone, right? No more nausea?” Their eyes met, hers still filled with tears.

“I think it went as soon as we came up the drive. Not sure, but I’ve only just realised it.”

“I told you.”

“That’s just odd. Do the others have it too?”

“I… I don’t know. I think Oliver and Bam…” her voice trailed off as she said the name.

“They had it?”

“Yes. And the further away we went, the worse it got. Or maybe it was the longer we went away… I’m not sure. I don’t know how this works. To be honest, I thought it was just a coincidence at first.”

“I went into town before but it never bothered me. Only this time… and the last, now that I think of it. I remember having a whopper of a headache when I spoke to the police about Mace and Farrow. Just thought it was stress at the time.”

“After you had the bloody nose.”

Logan cocked his head, silent with his own thoughts for a moment, his index finger tapping his lips. “Yeah, I think so.” His brow furrowed and his hold on her tightened. He had said the words quietly, but it still made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

“There’s something really weird going in this house, and it frightens me. Bam knew it… and now she’s…” Tears spilled from her eyes again, the invisible hand of grief gripping her throat. Logan pulled her towards him, holding her firmly against his chest, where she could feel the steady beat of his heart. His hand gripped her hair tightly, and Freya unleashed another wave of tears. After a few minutes, she managed to compose herself and wiped the tears from her slick cheeks.

“I need to tell Ollie.”

Logan held the door open for her, and she stumbled through. Two of the young men were having a coffee break in the entrance hall, and they looked up from their paper cups with raised eyebrows.

“You okay, Miss?” the fellow with dark skin asked.

“I’m okay,” she croaked. “Have you seen Oliver? I need to speak to him.”

“Did something happen?” He looked alarmed, but Freya couldn’t find the energy to put him at ease. She shrugged and bit her lower lip, the muscles in her face cramping with grief.

“Not now, Terrence, okay? I’ll talk to you guys later about this.” Logan put his arm around Freya again and gently pushed her towards the West Wing. “Get back to work.”

The young lads stared for a moment longer, then put their coffee cups on the plastic table and picked up their tools.

“Freya?” Oliver stood in the door opening, his body language stiff and his face filled with concern. “What happened? Why are you crying?”

She pulled away from Logan and flung herself full force at her friend. Oliver was her strongest link to Bam, and she held on to him as if he could somehow undo Bam’s death.

“It’s Bam…” she managed to say between loud sobs.

“Oh no…”

“Bam…”

“No… don’t say it. No.”

“Ollie…”

“She’s okay, right? She just had an accident or something, but she’s fine. Is she in the hospital?” He pushed her away from him, still gripping her arms. “Freya, tell me she’s okay.”

She couldn’t look him in the eyes; instead, she hung her head and cried hot salty tears. Her shoulders shuddered uncontrollably.

“Freya.” He shook her firmly, her teeth rattling in her skull. “Freya, what happened?” The words were slow and deliberate, his tone a mixture of anger and frustration.