Grave Possession (Wraith 3) (22 page)

“I know you’re here,” I said. “I don’t know what you want, but I know you’re here. I’m going to figure it out and I’m going to stop it.”

A thick throaty laugh echoed through the bathroom, bouncing off the dated green tiles. I clutched my towel under my chin. “I get it. You’re tiny pieces of something bad. A little bit of Charlotte and Hazel, and a bunch of other ghosties. I can handle it. In fact, I’ll even make you a deal. I’ll open up the doorway one more time and you can go back where you came from. Otherwise, I’ll have to take you down.”

The air shimmered in front of me, blasting a cool gust of wind across my damp arms and face. The spirit morphed into a variety of faces, shadowy ones I couldn’t recognize and dozens of people I’d helped in the past. It settled on the most unnerving one, Hazel. I couldn’t discern if she was here willingly or not.

“Bad things are coming. My daddy said so.”

“You keep telling me that, Hazel, but I need to know more,” I said with a guarded edge.

“They’re bad, Jane. Really bad. The bad man is coming and we have to hide.”

“I’m not big on hiding, but I can help you get out of here whenever you’re ready.”

“Oh, I’m not allowed to leave. My daddy said so.”

“What’s your daddy’s name, Hazel?”

“Daddy.”

Of course.

Hazel reached out a tiny hand and I almost took it because the craving ran deep. But I saw the glint in her eye and the tiny smile on her lips. “Who are you really?”

Hazel stayed in front of me, tiny and vulnerable, but her voice changed to something deep and unworldly. “I’m the things your nightmares are made of, Jane. You’ve been such a lovely host, but your usefulness is coming to an end. Once I’m done, you’ll feel the consequences of our relationship.” Hazel’s face exploded into a dozen black birds, frantically seeking a way out of the enclosed space. Her body turned to a thick, black smoke. I cried out, bracing myself for an attack, but the birds and smoke disappeared, exiting through the drains in the sinks and showers.

The minute the room cleared, I ran to the stall and fell on my knees, vomiting in the toilet.

*

“You never told me about this car.” The accusation in Amber’s voice was clear, but her eyes and body carried a flirtatious air. She had a long arm draped over the driver’s side door – Connor’s door. “It’s fantastic.”

I assessed the scene, but nothing came out of my mouth but, “Um…”

“I thought I’d pick you up,” Connor said through the open window. Amber wasn’t alone. Ava and Tony carried on a conversation nearby.

“Hey, Raven,” Tony called. He wore a wide grin and pointed to my necklace. Right. Ravens. After seeing Hazel’s face dissolve into a bunch of birds, I wasn’t feeling too generous.

“Hey, Tony.”

“Any new tattoos?”

“Not yet.”

He winked and I realized he must be playing down our real relationship with Amber and Ava nearby. I didn’t want Amber involved in any of this anyway, so fine by me. I walked past her to the passenger side and opened the squeaky, old door. Stuffy heat rolled out, but I embraced the familiar smell of Connor’s dumpy car. Right now I needed as much comfort as I could get.

Ava made a hand motion directing me to call her later. Tony walked over to my door and said, “I’ll call you guys later. I need to show you something.”

I nodded and Connor nudged the car along, even as Amber continued to talk. “Where are you guys off to?” she asked, walking beside the car.

“Just running out for a while,” Connor said. “We’ll catch up later.”

She finally pried her fingers off the window ledge and he pulled away and muttered, “I swear I’m not doing anything to encourage that.”

“Seems to be your type.”

“What’s that?”

“Bossy and controlling.”

He cocked his head to the side. “You think that’s what I want?”

I sighed and looked out the window into the dark night. “No. I think that’s who wants you though. Taming Connor Jacobs – that’s a challenge, I guess.”

The car cut through the fading afternoon light and he left the downtown area, slipping onto the highway. I should have asked where we were going, but I didn’t. Part of me hoped we were running away. Instead, I sunk lower into my seat and said, “I’m tired, Connor.”

He reached over the gearshift and his hand found mine. I relaxed into his touch. “I know.”

“I mean really tired. I don’t know if I have the energy to keep up this fight.”

“We’ll get through this. We always do.”

His hand felt nice next to mine. Warmth spider-webbed down my arm. “I read your letters.”

“And...”

“I’m sorry you went through all that alone. That I abandoned you when you needed me most.”

“You didn’t abandon me. I’m the one who couldn’t get the courage to send them to you. To let you know how I felt and what I was dealing with.”

Connor pulled off the highway and down a road that lead to the beach. I rolled down the window and inhaled the cool, salty air. It wasn’t quite running away, but it would do. “You look like a dog,” he laughed.

The air slapped my cheeks and I felt awake for the first time in days. He stopped the car and I got out before he’d even cut the engine. I walked toward the sound of the water. “You coming?” I called.

“Yeah.” He jogged toward me and held something out with one hand. His other held a camping lantern. “In case it gets dark.” He placed the lantern on the ground. “Put this on,” he said, gently pulling a stocking cap over my head. He tucked my ears beneath the fabric.

“Thanks.” I shoved my hands in my pockets, the bitter cold numbing my fingertips. Connor linked his arm with mine and pulled me to the side, away from the coast. “I want to see the water,” I said.

“This first.” I followed him, my feet sinking into the sand-covered road. Up ahead I saw the cinderblock walls lined down the street. “Hurricane,” he said. I realized why we were here. Or where he’d brought us. Mother Nature may have torn down these buildings, but in her wake she left the perfect tagging playground. Except there was no color – just grey and white designs against the wall.

“What’s this?”

“It’s called reverse graffiti or clean tagging. You remove the dirty and grime from the wall and the clean spots show the artwork.”

A series of faces lined the walls, all familiar, all dead. Hazel’s wide eyes peered out from the graying cement, as well as the guy with the memory loss and Kelsey. White birds flew across the top of the wall.

“You’re so good at this,” I said.

“Everyone needs a superpower.”

I ran my hand across the bumpy surface. “It’s so different. Where did you learn about this?”

“My counselor at the program. I told him I wasn’t willing to give up tagging. That it was too important to me, even if it was illegal. He did some research and came up with this compromise. It’s not considered vandalism. But I have permission to be here anyway. I’m doing this as part of a project for school.”

“So, you aren’t breaking probation with this.”

“Nope. I told you I wasn’t going down that road again. I promise.”

With more hesitation than I’d like, he leaned down and kissed me, pressing his mouth against mine. His lips were cold, but they warmed against my own. He tightened his fingers in my belt loops, pulling me close, parted his lips and kissed me deeper. Electricity crackled between us, ebbing and flowing down my limbs. Dazed, I pressed my hand to his chest. “Has it always been that way?”

Connor rubbed his lips and shook his head. “Sort of. Kissing you has always been, well, really hot. Like,” he ducked his head, “you rock me, Jane. Hard. No other girl even comes close. Ever will, but…”

“But what?”

“But there’s something different now.”

I nodded. “It’s really intense.”

“Very.”

“I can feel you inside. Deep. Like the minute we touch you become…”

“Part of you,” he finished. “But it’s not just me. It’s like I’m fighting for space in there.”

“Why would you say that?”

He gripped my hand. “I’m not fighting for your heart. I’m fighting for space. Misha is right, those spirits have attached themselves to you and they don’t want to share.”

“Like parasites, she said.”

“Exactly.”

I failed an attempt to fight a massive shudder. “That’s disgusting.”

Connor wrapped his arms around me and pressed his nose against mine. I finally realized what had caused the dark hole inside of me. It wasn’t Charlotte, like I’d thought. The evil ate at me from the inside out. “I told you before I’m not into sharing. And your heart is mine. It always has been. We’ll fix this.”

“If we don’t?”

The wind coming off the water cut across our cheeks, stinging like a whip. Tightening his grip, Connor said, “We will.”

*

“Why me?” I asked on the way back to Connor’s dorm to see Tony.

“You’re strong.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“It makes total sense,” he said. “They need someone strong to feed off of so they have enough power for whatever they have planned. When they attach to you they’re very small – tiny threads of spirit. Ultimately, they must want to be more than that. Bigger.”

“What do you think we’re dealing with here, because the ghosts are giving me a bunch of mumbo jumbo I can’t figure out?”

“Maybe Tony will have an idea – or some of the others in the group.”

With no other plan, we agreed to go back to the dorm and find Tony. He’d left his door open, so Connor knocked lightly before walking in. “Hey, man,” Connor said. “What’s going on?”

“Just getting some work done. I’m on a tight deadline.”

Connor closed the door while Tony sorted through a huge stack of large canvases leaning against his desk. His hands were covered in paint and his jeans had streaks down them from wiping his brush. He picked out three and laid them on his bed.

“You’ve been busy,” I said. “Getting ready for the show?”

“It’s next week. I’ve got so much to do.”

Tony rubbed his face but it did nothing to remove the dark circles under his eyes. He looked like he needed to sleep for a couple of days. I approached the bed and took in the paintings one by one. They weren’t all complete, one nothing more than a sketch, but I got the idea. One in
particular caught my eye.

“That’s Hazel,” I said, pointing to one of a little girl in a dated nightgown. Connor shifted uneasily on his feet.

“I had the vision of her a couple days ago,” Tony remarked.

Painting number two was a flock of birds, formed from spilled ink. “I’ve seen this before,” I said, touching the inky, wet birds. “In a dream or, well, alternate reality, I guess. I’m not sure where it is, but Evan showed me these birds.”

“What about this one?” Connor asked, pointing to the sketch. A long-barreled gun held by two hands was front and center.

“Bang bang,” I said, cocking my hand like Kelsey had that day.

Connor winced.

“Okay, so, the clues are sort of obvious. We’ve got two dead girls, crows, harbingers of death and a gun. Can a ghost use a gun?” I asked.

“I don’t think so,” Connor said.

“It’s obvious, yet makes no sense.”

“But all three are tied to you right?” Tony asked me.

“Yes, I guess so.”

He sat down on his desk chair. “Okay, well what else do they have in common, besides you and death?”

Connor narrowed his eyes in thought. He said, “Hazel and Kelsey both have ties to this dorm.”

“Right,” I nodded. “Hazel lives here. And Kelsey dated Tom.”

“Kelsey?” Tony asked. “Amber’s roommate?”

“Yeah, she’s one of the ghosts I’ve seen.”

“The police found her body, right?”

“Yes. Tom said they’d broken up by then, but Amber is convinced she was still seeing someone.”

“Unless he’s lying,” Tony added.

“So Hazel, Kelsey, you two, and me all have ties back to this dorm.”

“And the dead guy with amnesia.”

“And him.”

“And…” Connor trailed off, locking his eyes with mine. “You know, us.”

I had a strong flashback to the night we got together, one floor above this one. “Right. Us.”

“Didn’t Nina say something about a psychic hot zone or something?” Connor pressed.

“Hotspot. She said that together we were likely a hotspot. But maybe it’s not just us.”

“Hotspot?” Tony asked. “What are you talking about?” It was obvious that he’d gotten confused, but for me and Connor, reality quickly set in.

“Whatever it is,” Connor said. “I think we’re sitting in it.”

“I think we need some better history on this building,” I said. “I searched it on the computer and there were some strange things that happened when it was a hotel. Spontaneous combustion… things like that.”