Haunted (9 page)

Theo made a disgusted noise and swatted at the air, then took three quick steps to the door and put her hand on the latch. "Christ!" she cried, letting go of it. "It's freezing! David, what's going on?" She grabbed his arm and clung to him.

"It's okay," he said, touching the knob. It felt very cool, but not freezing. "Touch it again," he said softly. "Is it still freezing?"

Gingerly, she put one finger on it and drew back quickly.
"Yes!" she hissed. "Let's get out of this awful room!"

"Theo, listen to me. There's nothing to be afraid of. The latch feels colder to you than it does to me because you're frightened."

"That's ridiculous."

She looked ready to bolt, so he grabbed both her upper arms in his hands and made her face him. "No, it's not ridiculous. Your fear is feeding the phenomenon. The reason it's bothering you more than me is because I've seen these things before so I'm not afraid It can't draw energy from me like it can from you because I won't feed it. Don't be afraid. You'll only increase its strength."

"David," she said slowly and sarcastically, "How can I not be afraid?" She flinched as something invisible floated between them. David could feel the coolness feather over his cheeks. It made the hairs on the back of his neck prickle up and he told himself it was cruel to make her stay there any longer.

Still, it was so utterly fascinating...

"All a cold spot is, is an energy drain. It doesn't think, it doesn't feel. It's mindless. It's drawn to humans because we have energy it can feed on. It's also drawn to electrical devices. Wherever you find cold spots, you're going to find problems with light bulbs going out, clocks stopping, and things turning on and off mysteriously. Batteries don't last long in haunted houses. Now, does that sound very spooky to you? To me, it sounds merely annoying and--"

The cloying scent of jasmine suddenly dropped over them. A suffocating cloak, sweet and rich, it swirled within the growing coldness that touched his face and neck, his arms, and body. He could feel spectral
fingers through his clothing, patting him, prying and familiar, touching his lips, hardening his nipples, caressing his buttocks and penis with horrifying intimacy. Adrenalin surged through him, eating away at his courage, filling him with utter panic.

Imprisoned in his hands, Theo stood utterly still, her eyes glazed, the
chocolaty irises nearly eaten by her pupils. She moaned.

"Come on," he said raggedly. "Let's get out of here." He let go of her to open the door, but she had turned to stone. He could hardly breathe. "Theo! Let's go!"

Slowly, her eyes met his, still glazed and slightly unfocused. Her tongue poked out and wet her lips. Her nostrils flared. She tilted her chin up toward him, her mouth slightly open.

He became aware of a putrid odor underlying the jasmine, a foul, rotting-meat smell, sweet and nauseating.

"Theo!" he said harshly. "Snap out of it!" He started to raise his hand to slap her cheek to get her out of her daze, but she caught his wrist in a cold iron grip.

"David," she whispered, her voice throaty with emotion. She pulled him closer, raising her lips to meet his.

The kiss was cold fire and David drew back, not believing she had kissed him, or that he'd responded. She put two fingers under his chin and drew him toward her again. Her other hand snaked around his waist and pushed against the small of his back, pressing his body into hers as they kissed again, her tongue forcing his lips apart, darting and exploring. He responded, sucking her lush lower lip into his mouth, tasting her, smelling her beneath the scent of jasmine and decay. The erection he ground against her body was so hard that it hurt.

Roughly, she pulled her mouth from his, moving down over his chin, to his neck, licking and biting and sucking, raking her hands over his body, pinching, caressing, finally finding his belt buckle.

What’s happening? Dumbly, he stared down at her as she fell to her knees and fumbled the buckle open and unzipped his pants. As her fingers slipped into the waistband of his shorts, she looked up at him and laughed.

And the room filled with the echo of that laughter, a separate laugh, but the same, the same laugh he'd heard just before they had entered Body House.

Theo fell silent, but all around them, the phantom laughter continued as she pulled his erection free, licked her lips, and gave him a vulpine smile. Her teeth glistened sharp and white.

"No!" he cried and slapped her, hard, across the cheek.

Stunned, she fell back, landing on her ass, her legs sprawling out from under her. The laughter faded, but not the scent. Theo watched without comprehension as he hurriedly zipped up.

"Come on!" he gasped. Grabbing her wrist, he pulled her to her feet as, around them, the cold air turned even colder, swirling like an invisible tornado within the room. The atmosphere seemed to charge and air pressure built in his ears, making him
dizzy and nauseated, filling his head with a sound like a jet taking off. He dragged Theo to the door and yanked the obscene latch up and down. It felt like ice in his hands.

The door wouldn't open. "Come on, God damn it! Open!" As he yelled, the pressure in his ears faded and the door flew open so suddenly that it crashed against his forehead. He barely felt it as he pulled Theo from the room and
firmly shut the door.

"What?" she asked breathlessly. "What was--"

"Not now," he ordered. "Come on."

He guided her down the stairs and across the second floor to Amber's room. He knocked and she opened the door, her smile transforming into a circle of surprise when she saw his face.

"Is everything okay here, Amber?"

"Sure, yeah. Dad, what happened?"

Gingerly, he touched the bump growing on his forehead. "A run-in with a door."

"No, you've got lipstick all over
your face." She glared at Theo, who was gripping his arm.

Damn, He hadn't even thought about that. "It's not what you think, kiddo. Listen, I'm going to see Theo out to her car, then I'll come back up and we'll talk. Don't wander around. Wait for me."

Doubtfully, she nodded and shut the door.

"I'm sorry," Theo said as they descended to the first floor.

"I don't know what got into me."

"Do you remember what happened?"

"I'll tell you outside."

He understood her hesitation to speak within the house, and a moment later, they stood leaning against her car. "So tell me what you remember, Theo. From the time we entered the room."

"The paint can was tipped over. You were explaining that those cold spots couldn't hurt us and then that smell started. It was so strong, it made me feel ill."

"What did it smell like to you?"

"Jasmine, only stronger. And something else. It reminded me of a mausoleum I went in once, not too long after the '89 quake. I could smell flowers, and something else, too. It turned out to be a cracked vault. Something was leaking out of it and there were flies... " The memory made her wrinkle her nose.

Okay. We
both smelled the same thing. "Then what happened?"

"I heard a woman laughing. It was like she was inside my head. I kissed you and
--" She dropped her gaze and studied the ground "--and then I--David, I'm so embarrassed. I couldn't control myself."

"You remember everything then?"

She nodded. "I felt like I was watching while someone else borrowed my body. Can you forgive me?"

"There's nothing to forgive. You were merely responding to influences. So was I."

She smiled thinly.

Watching her, he wondered what, if anything, would have happened in that room had he been alone. Very little, he suspected, without Theo present to stir things up. "How do you feel now?"

"Absolutely exhausted," she admitted. "Why?"

"Do you remember what I said about the cold spots feeding on your fear?"

"Yes," she said without enthusiasm.

"Your energy was tapped to help fuel the manifestation. I can show you how to ground yourself so that you won't be so affected, but until then, I don't think it would be a good idea for you to go anywhere near that room."

"The entire third floor has a... a heavy feel to it," Theo said slowly. "Do you know what I mean?"

"Yes," he said, hoping she would elaborate. He was beginning to think that Theo had the makings of a psychic and and, oh boy, are there a lot of ifs--if everything else worked out, her abilities could be very helpful in his research.

"I've only been on the third floor a couple of times," she was saying. "I hated it."

"As I recall, you waited downstairs the
first time I looked at the house."

She nodded. "It wasn't very professional of me, I know."

She hesitated. "David?"

"Yes?"

"I have smelled that odor up there before. Another agent and I came to check the house before you arrived and, when we went up, we both smelled it I didn't recognize the scent earlier- without the rotting odor."

"What happened that day?"

"We left. For some reason, the smell frightened us. Nothing happened except, as I closed the door... " Her voice trailed off, her eyes fixed on the house.

"Except?" David prompted.

"I thought I heard the laughter." She studied her hands, then turned her gaze on him. "I'm sorry. I guess I should have told you about that earlier."

"That's all right," he reassured her. "Did your associate hear it too?"

"No, I don't think so." She paused, studying him. "I don't know what it is about that house. I don't understand why you want it. But I really believe that if there are spirits there, it's our duty to help them go into the light." She looked pained. "But I don't know if I'm strong enough. Perhaps if some of my friends from Beings of Light helped--"

"Have you ever noticed the jasmine scent downstairs before?" David, interrupted quickly.

"No. But one day, there was a horrible dead animal smell. I thought something had crawled inside and died, but Eric didn't find anything. The odor faded as suddenly as it rose."

The smell of decomposition was a well-known facet of the haunting and, though there were several theories concerning its source, David favored one that maintained that the dozen or so people missing after the massacre had been trapped below. But there was no proof since the entrance to the room--assuming it had ever even existed--had never been found "Theo, how do Eric and the Willards feel about the house?"

"Well, I wouldn't push it with them."

"I understand
."

"David?"

"Yes?"

"I was
possessed, wasn't I?"

He'd wondered how long it would take her to ask that. “No. You weren't possessed
. Influenced, perhaps, but not possessed."

"What's the difference?" she asked skeptically.

"Possession implies that an actual spirit or demon, something that thinks and has a will of its own, takes control of your body for its own uses." He smiled. "That just doesn't happen, except in novels."

"You can't know that," Theo countered
.

He cleared his throat patiently. "Possession is a concept that allows people to anthropomorphize an influence, to give it a personality, and human desires and motivations that really belong to the person bestowing them. Usually, the force will merely exhaust the person who feeds it. Sometimes, though, especially if a person has strong psychic gifts, as I think you may have, it can actually influence the person."

Theo appeared interested, so he continued. "A poltergeist appears to have direction, to interact with the living. Sometimes it might speak to people or cause accidents. At that point, it becomes a revenant, which is, basically, a very powerful, very directed, poltergeist." As he spoke, he studied her with the sinking feeling that his definition of poltergeist and hers were miles apart. Her expression was one of sympathetic indulgence; she thought he was as full of shit as he thought she was.

Abruptly, she took a Kleenex from her purse and pressed it into his hand
. "Your daughter must think I'm as wicked as that Baudey woman. I'm so sorry." She extracted a compact, opened it, and gave that to him, too. A tiny light illuminated the mirror and he began wiping the red smudges from his face.

"Don't worry, I'll explain it to her." He gave back her compact and helped her into her car.

She started the engine, then smiled. "I almost forgot. Our church is co-sponsoring a costume party at the Moose Lodge in town. I hope you'll come. As my guest, perhaps? It'll give you a chance to meet at least half the town."

"Costume party?" David asked quizzically.

"It's called the Come As You Were Dance. Everyone dresses as someone they think they were in a previous life."

“
That sounded bizarre but interesting. When is it?"

"August twenty-second
. About six weeks from now."

"Thank you for inviting me. If you can give me a few days to see how things are shaping up, I'll give you a
definite answer. Amber may not want to stay alone in the house," he added.