Ghost Huntress Book 6: The Journey (18 page)

He looks up at her with remorse and his own tears in his eyes.  “I don’t think I can,” he manages to eke out before he falls to the floor.

Princess Diana materializes in the room, and this time I’m not awed by her past celebrity.  Instead, I turn pleading eyes to her, not knowing what to do.

“Protect her, Kendall.  Just as I’ve protected you.”

Before I can do anything, Jayne screams and falls back onto the bed.

And then, right before all of us, she levitates six feet into the air.

“Holy crap!  Now what do I do?”

We all stand gape-mouthed as Jayne hovers over the hotel bed.

No one is more horrified than Christian.  He scrambles up off the floor and cowers back in the corner.  “What’s going on?  Jayne!  Stop that!  How are you doing that?”

Jayne doesn’t say a word.  She just growls from her gut in a low sound that can only be described as demonic.

Okay, this is
not
what I signed up for when I agreed to come on this simple summer European jaunt.  I wanted history and touring, riding metros and maybe even try eating a few things I’d never had before.  In no way did I plan on facing some insane teenager who’d managed to summon something sinister from the other side.

Christian claws at the wall behind him and tries to cross the room to escape.

Jason blocks his way.  “You’re not going anywhere, buddy.”

Patrick squares up next to him, providing a muscular boy wall Christian won’t penetrate.  Just like him to think only about himself and to turn tail and run.  We’ll deal with him later.  Right now, I have to worry about Jayne.

“What are you doing to her?” I ask of…whom?

Jayne’s weak voice bursts through.  “Help me, please.”

She rises even higher off the bed, nearly six feet in the air now.  A booming voice rises from her chest.  “You dare trifle with me!”

Oliver takes my hand.  “Who are we dealing with?”

Jayne’s chest heaves and the voice bellows out.  “Dojo!”

Christian swoons as he sucks in a deep breath.  “It’s real?”

“Yeah, bitch.  Your crap is real,” Becca says through gritted teeth.

“I’m not dealing with this.  No way!”  Christian makes a break for the door.

Quite unceremoniously, pretty Taylor trips him up and literally flips him over her shoulder, landing him on the floor with a resounding grunt.

Shock crosses Celia’s face and I know it mirrors my own.  “What was that?” I ask.

Taylor shrugs.  “I took Tae Kwon Do when I was in Alaska.”

Becca snickers.  “Remind me never to tick you off.”

While Christian lies there on the floor, Oliver runs into the other room.  I have no idea if he’s coming back or not, so I turn to Diana.

“Talk him out of her,” she instructs.

“Jayne.  We’re here for you.  You’ve got to fight him.  Do not let him take you over.”  I turn to Patrick and stretch my hands out.  No words need to be exchanged as we lock fingers to join our psychic abilities.  Patrick is the first to address the demon.

Dojo, in the name of the Lord, I command that you leave this girl alone.

Nothing but dark laughter resonates in our heads.

My turn.

She did nothing wrong.  She didn’t summon you.  She doesn’t deserve this.

Not that I want this demon to turn his attention to Christian or anything like that.  I just want this entity gone.  Back to hell or purgatory or limbo or wherever.

I start praying hard, hoping God hears me and will have mercy on Jayne.  It’s not her fault that she wrongly trusted Christian.

Princess Diana stands nearby nodding at us.  We must be doing something right.

Leave her alone, Dojo!  Leave all of us alone!

Oliver dashes back into the room with a large vile of water.  Holy water!

“Where did you get that?” I ask.

“I had a priest at Notre Dame bless a bunch for me.  You know, in case of a rainy day.”

Patrick snorts.  “I think we have a hurricane on our hands.”

Not wasting any more time, Oliver pops the lid off the vial and throws the holy water at Jayne’s body.

She screams out as if burned, but she also drops a foot or so out of the air.

“It’s working,” Taylor yells out.

Oliver tosses more water at her as Patrick and I continue to hold hands, praying and demanding that Dojo leave Jayne’s body.  Steam sizzles off of her as the holy water does its job.  She twists and fights, crying out.

“Hang in there, Jayne!”

Finally, the vial is empty of its contents and then Jayne’s small body falls out of the air.  Fortunately, she lands on the soft bed.

Jason and Celia run to her side immediately to see if she’s okay.  Jayne draws her knees up under her chin, trembling and crying at the same time.

“He’s still here,” Princess Di says to me.  “Protect yourself, Kendall.”

Patrick and I join our minds and coat ourselves in a protective bubble of white light.  I feel the warmth of God taking care of me as I fight what I’ve been sent here to take care of.

“Where is he?” I ask to whoever can answer me.

Princess Di’s eyes slice over to where the stack of Ouija boards has fallen to the floor.  I break contact with Patrick and bend down to gather the offending divination tools.

“You can’t take those,” Christian cries.

Patrick blocks him as he moves to stop me.  “Oh, hell yes, we can.”

Patrick and I gather the boards and follow into the living room of Oliver’s suite.  Even though it’s summertime, flames crackle in the fireplace.  We toss the boards in and they are swiftly consumed by the hissing tongues of red, orange, and white.  And then, just like that, the boards disappear in a
whooooooooooooshing
vapor.

Patrick covers me with his body and we all duck onto the floor to avoid whatever happens next.  I sense a vortex suck out the air in the room and then vanish into the fireplace like some sort of magnetic force.  It takes a few seconds, but everything seems… fine.

Christian stands up and smoothes a hand over his clothes.  He glares at me hatefully. “You couldn’t leave well enough alone, lass, could you?  You’ve ruined me!”

I pull up from my position on the floor and stand tall.  “You ruined yourself, Christian.”

Oliver’s by my side and crosses his hands over his chest.  “Get out of my sight.  Now.”

Christian returns to his room, gets his bag and slinks out, never looking back.

A collective sigh sounds out in the room.

Moving back through the suite, I gather Jayne up and hug her tightly.

“Th-th-thank you.  I’ve never been so scared in all my life.”

I stroke her hair with my hand and shush her.  “It’s okay.”

Jayne’s tear-stained eyes gaze up at me.  “He wasn’t the real deal.  You are, Kendall.”

“So are you, Jayne.”

“Are you sure?  I don’t know if I’m really psychic,” she says.

“We’ll work together.  I promise.  You can tell me what you’re going through any time.”

Her eyes move about the room and then back to me.  “Would you think I’m daffy if I told you that the Princess of Wales is here in the room with us?”

I crane my neck and see my friendly spirit guide still standing in the corner.  She’s so beautiful with her blonde hair cut stylishly around her regal face.  Her blue eyes shine out and her smile is warm as she nods her approval at me.

“Yeah, she’s here.  She’s been with me a lot on this trip.”

Patrick chuckles.  “I’ll be damned.  It is her.”

Taylor, Celia, Becca, and Jason all shrug at each other.

“I don’t see a thing,” Becca says.  “Then again, I never do.”

Celia lets out a sigh.  “They get to have all the fun.”

I walk over and stand directly in front of the tragically deceased princess.  “Are you really Diana Spencer Windsor, Princess of Wales?”

A knowing smile crosses her face and she shakes her head at me.  “No, I’m not.  I thought I’d approach you in a way that wouldn’t frighten you.”

“Why would I be frightened?”  I’ve dealt with so many ghosts, apparitions, and lost souls, what’s another one?

She laughs demurely.  “I suppose I meant that I chose someone who wouldn’t annoy you as much as other possibilities.”

Before my eyes, the faux princess morphs into the World War II pilot that I saw at Heathrow Airport when I first landed.  Then, he shifts into the dark shadow I’d seen so many times on the trip; that darkness that I thought might harm me, yet it was just a cloak for….

The spirit transforms again into a young man of maybe twenty years of age.  He’s wearing a denim jacket, a black T-shirt, and worn jeans.  When he turns his face into mine, it’s like I’m gazing into a mirror.

And it hits me.

A reality of sorts, only not.

A dream come true.

A connection with who I am.

I reach my hand to encircle my throat, hoping I can produce a sound.

“D-D-Daddy?”

Patrick gasps, as do the rest of my friends who are only hearing one side of this conversation.

The young man nods at me to let me know I have, indeed, figured things out.

“You’re my father!  You’re Andy Caminiti!”

My birth father who died before I was born.  My breathing becomes choppy and tears are close to spilling.  I want to run into his arms and hug him, know the feel of his arms protecting me, but I’ll meet nothing but air.

“How long have you been with me?” I ask.

“Since you found my sister,” he tells me.  “It was like there were some sort of spiritual bread crumbs that led me to you.”

I giggle nervously at his analogy.  “I wish I’d known sooner.  I would have talked to you.”

“I didn’t have the strength or energy to appear to you at first,” he says.  “So, I stayed in the shadows and watched.  When Anona reached out to me and said she couldn’t come far with you, I thought it was best to come to you in other forms to try and help you on your journey.  Until you could see the real me.”

My father holds out a ghostly hand to touch my face.  Even though there’s no contact, I feel him.  A cold tingle tickles my cheek where the tears of happiness stream down.

“I’m so proud of you, sweetie.”

Patrick must sense I need him because his arms wrap around to support me.

Andy faces my boyfriend and says, “Take care of my little girl for me.”

“Always,” Patrick responds.

Daddy fades away.  And I collapse in Patrick’s arms.

I step out of the hot shower, steam curling around my feet as I let it escape into the hotel room.  Nothing like a cleansing myself from the paranormal ick after the encounter we had tonight.

But it was cathartic, as well.

“You okay, sweetie?” my aunt asks.

Tightening the towel around me, I lower myself to her bed and lay my wet head on her shoulder.  “Yeah.  I think I am.”

I had told her all about seeing my father—her brother—when we first got back to the hotel.  We’d cried together and laughed and hugged and cried some more.

She wraps her arms around me and softly scratches my back.  “I wish I could have experienced that with you.”

“Me, too.”

She chuckles.  “Not that I could have seen him like you did.”

“You never know.”

Setting me back away from her, Andi asks, “You think he’s okay?  In a better place?”

I shrug.  “He seemed okay.  But just like Emily…like my mom, once I knew who he was, he disappeared.  I don’t get that.  If they’re so concerned about me and want to be part of my life, why do they just fade away once I know who they are?”

“I don’t know, sweetie.”

Grabbing my brush off the nightstand, I tug it through my wet hair.  “I don’t know, either.”

My aunt pulls off her glasses and wipes them clean on the end of her white T-shirt.  As she places them back on her nose, she says, “Maybe it’s just part of the journey, Kendall.”

“What journey?  Everyone keeps talking about my journey.”

She takes the brush from me and starting working on my tangles.  “Your life journey.  The path you walk on that takes you to the real you.  We all have a journey that makes us who we are.”

“I’m only now starting to find out who I am,” I tell her.

Her eyes shine as she gazes at me.  “It’s all part of growing up.”

She knows all about my vision of Emily’s parents, too.  “I want to go find them.”

“I figured you would.”

“You think they’ll freak out?”

“Only one way to find out.  We’ll go to Italy when you’re ready.  You don’t have to be back in Radisson until right before school starts.  Whatever we have to do, Kendall.  I’m here for you.”

I kiss her on the cheek, loving her so much.  A few minutes later, I bite my lip a bit.

“What now?” Andi asks.

I furrow my brows.  “Sometimes, I wish I were just a normal teen, you know?”

Andi tosses her head back and laughs hard.  “Kendall, there’s no such thing as a normal teenager.  Never has been, never will be.”

I suppose she’s right!

 *~*~*

Since this is the last night of Becca’s DJ DanceFest competition, I’ve gone all out.  Aunt Andi curled my hair and did my makeup, giving me dark, smoky eyes and full, red lips.  I put on my black fringe top and back sequin shorts to go with my rhinestone kitten heels.  Long, blingy earrings finish off my look and I’m ready to go.

I join my friends in the lobby of the Grand Hotel Leveque and get a smiley pleasure at the look on Patrick’s face when he sees me.

“You are one hot babe,” he says, embarrassing me to the core.

Then again, he looks totally hot in his fashionable jeans black and gray skull shirt.  We link hands and head off to Becca’s performance.

The music is pumping and the stages are jammed when we arrive.  Becca’s in a short red dress with crimped hair—that totally works on her—and she’s holding her headphones high as she mixes out the 808 beat.

Taylor and Rémy are dancing and Celia and Jason stand together, his arm draped over her shoulder.  They look blissfully in full crush with each other and I couldn’t be happier.

“Do you mind some company?” I hear next to me.  I spin to see Oliver and Jayne standing there.