The Awakening Evil (12 page)

“Yes, I visited the mill. And yes, it is a most awful coincidence,” Jane agreed. She stood up and poured two cups of tea. She placed them on the table and sat back down.

The constable began to ask questions about the Fear family. About Thomas's grandparents, Angelica and Simon. About the rumors that the family practiced the dark arts.

Jane could feel Sarah growing angrier and angrier.

The next thing she knew, she woke up in her own bed.

She had blacked out again. A horrible feeling of dread swept through her.

Oh, no …

Jane tiptoed down to the kitchen, terrified at what she might see inside.

Slowly, she pushed open the door. The smell of cooked meat filled her nose.

Several servants sat at the table, eating their breakfast. Jason was among them. He gave her a worried smile.

She nodded gravely.

There was no sign of the constable.

If only she could remember what had happened. She shuffled wearily to the table and sat down heavily.

The servants appeared surprised to find their mistress sitting at the table with them. “Shall I make you some tea, ma'am?” Jason offered.

Jane's head jerked up.

“Did I say something wrong?” he asked.

She had made tea for the constable. She remembered that, but vaguely. She could see herself and the constable sitting at the table.

And after tea—what happened? She needed to remember.

“Are you all right?” Jason asked.

“Fine, fine. Tea would be lovely. Thank you,” Jane answered.

Perhaps the constable had finally grown tired of asking questions and left.

Now why didn't she believe that?

Jason brought the tea back to the table and set it before her. She slowly stirred the dark liquid, letting the steam warm her face. Jason looked so very worried.

She tried to smile at him. “I'm sorry we weren't able to go to a show together,” she said.

Jason blushed. Jane noticed the other servants exchanging glances.

That was stupid of me, she realized. No one knew he was her stepbrother. She had embarrassed him. The other servants probably thought that some odd and shocking romance was brewing between the recently widowed mistress and her young servant!

Jane pulled a piece of toast from a servant's hand and gobbled it down. She cackled at the startled expression on his face.

“Not bad,” Jane said as she chewed.

Her gaze settled on the large pot of boiling potatoes on the stove. The food seemed to stick in Jane's throat.

She shoved her chair backward so fast it fell over with a crash.

Her hand flew to her forehead.

The pain—so sharp!

And then the memories—

Flying past one after another—

“No! No!” Jane cried, covering her mouth. She shook her head, trying to make the horrifying pictures disappear. The horrifying pictures of what she had done to the constable.

Jason took her by the shoulders and guided her back into a chair.

But she ripped free. Her body bent double. “What have I done?” she screamed.

All the servants gathered around, watching her in horror. Not knowing what was wrong. Not knowing what she was seeing in her head.

“What is going on?” Jason demanded. “You must tell me. Let me help you.”

The lid on the large pot rattled as the contents cooked and bubbled.

Jane stared at it. Little wisps of steam escaped from under the dancing lid.

The delicious smell of meat grew stronger.

She began to gag.

For now she remembered everything.

Now she knew exactly what had become of Constable Childs.

T
he constable is in that pot, Jane realized. I carved him up … like a turkey.

She ran out of the kitchen. She dashed up to her room and locked the door behind her.

“Let me in!” Jason cried. He pounded on the door.

“Go away!” Jane yelled. “Go away! Please, Jason. I'm all right, I promise. I just need to rest.”

A few moments later, Jane heard his footsteps moving away.

There is one more, Jane,
Sarah told her.
You cannot stay locked in your room. There is one more we must take care of.

No more! Jane shouted back.

But Sarah pulled her to the door.

One more, Jane. Just one more little murder and then we're done,
the evil spirit said.

Jane threw herself to the ground. She tried to crawl away from the door, every muscle straining with the terrible effort.

Sarah only laughed.
Have you guessed who we're going to kill next? Jason. Your stepbrother, Jason!

She could not let that happen.

He belonged to her past, her life before the horror.

He was more precious to her than anything in the world.

Jane gathered all her strength. She pulled herself to her feet, clawing the wallpaper with her bare hands. She backed away from the door.

“You won't get me to do that.” She shouted the words out loud. “Never!”

She could feel Sarah pushing her, pushing her toward the door.

Jane grabbed onto her desk.

“No!” she screamed.

Sarah seemed to let go.

Could it be that simple?

Jane's legs began to tremble.

She felt something gathering force inside her body.

She heard a distant hissing sound. Growing louder. Louder.

Jane sank to her knees. The thing that was inside her forced her lips open wide.

Green gas spewed out of her mouth.

It filled the room. The smell was like rotted flesh.

Jane choked and sputtered. The green gas kept pouring out of her.

She fell to her knees, coughing and shaking.

Then it was over.

Jane scrubbed her mouth with the hem of her skirt. Then she stared around the room. The green gas filled it from floor to ceiling, thick as fog.

Jane felt a drop of sweat run down her forehead.

Was it her imagination or was the room growing hot? She blinked as more sweat ran into her eyes, stinging her eyeballs.

And still the room grew hotter.

The green gas began to shimmer, like the air on a hot summer day.

The floor began to burn her knees. She leapt to her feet. But she could feel the floor burning through the soles of her shoes.

I have to get out of here, Jane thought. But she could not move.

The green gas quivered. It gathered in the center of the room, forming into one large cloud.

Dark holes formed in the cloud. Two holes side by side.

Eyes, Jane realized with horror. They began to glow a bright green.

Another hole formed in the cloud, and became a mouth.

The cloud swirled and shifted—forming a face.

The face of Sarah Burns. The face of Jane's best friend.

“Sarah,” Jane breathed.

It was the first time Jane had seen Sarah since she died.

Jane began to cry. “Sarah … Sarah …”

The glowing green eyes flashed with fury.

Jane cried harder. “Even after all that's happened, I love you, Sarah. And I miss you—”

“Silence!” the evil spirit roared.

“Oh, Sarah. We never should have done it,” Jane moaned. “It was madness. Thinking we could switch places. Look what we've done, Sarah! Look at all the pain we caused!”

“There will be more! More pain! And more and more and more!”

“No more,” Jane said, shaking her head and struggling for breath. “Let it end. Let us both die, Sarah. It's enough.”

“More!”

“No, Sarah.”

Jane felt a tiny bit of strength gathering force inside her. “I won't let you hurt anyone else, Sarah. It's over.”

“You can't stop me, Jane.” Tendrils of gas darted forward and licked Jane's face—tearing at her skin with every touch. Burning her. “You can never stop me.”

Hands formed in the gas.

Jane couldn't move. Couldn't get away.

The hands reached out for Jane's throat.

J
ane let out a piercing scream. Her mouth wide open in terror.

The green gas began to shoot back into her.

No!

She had to hold her mouth closed! She could not let Sarah reenter her body!

Jane tried to close her jaws, tried to clench her teeth. But the thick green gas was too powerful. It pushed her teeth apart.

The gas burned Jane's throat. Her stomach. Her lungs. She could feel it filling up every part of her.

Finally, it was over.

The air in the room looked clear, normal. Still.

Jane breathed in slowly.

She could smell the faint scent of the faded rose in
a bud vase on her rolltop desk. Jason had brought her the flower when she was sick.

Jason. Jane had to warn him.

But she was too exhausted. She's won, Jane thought. Sarah has won.

Jane found herself on her feet.

She headed downstairs.

Every time she blinked, she found herself in a different room of the mansion. I'm having tiny little blackouts, she realized.

She was searching for something. What?

Oh, here it was. The box of knives that Thomas had given her. The family heirloom.

She carried them back to the library. She set the box down on the same table they had been on that horrible afternoon.

Jane watched herself run her hand lovingly over the polished wood. Then she lifted the lid and smiled at the ten shiny knives, each knife held in place with a purple velvet sash.

I liked using these so much the last time,
Sarah explained.
When I cut off Aaron West's leg. He deserved it after all those horrible things he said about me.

Jane ran her finger over the handles of the knives.

She stopped at the longest knife.

I am powerless to stop Sarah, Jane thought.

Utterly,
Sarah agreed.

And besides, Sarah was only doing what she herself secretly wanted to do all along. Jason, stern-faced Jason, had always been so shocked by her wild
behavior as a child. He had snitched to Aunt Betsey more than once when they were youngsters. Like the time she switched the salt with the sugar. He had told. And she had been punished.

Now he would pay.

Jane pulled the gold cord that rang in the servant's room. She told the servant who arrived that she needed to speak to Jason at once.

She saw the look on her servant's face. They must have all been whispering about her and Jason. Already spreading their beastly little rumors. Telling everyone in town that she and Jason had planned to go to the theater together.

If only they knew the truth. That Jason was her stepbrother. And that in just a few minutes, he would be dead.

“Jane,” Jason cried. He rushed into the room and slid the door closed behind him. “I've been so worried about you. I—”

Something in her expression made him stop.

Jane stepped forward quickly. “I have something for you,” she told him calmly.

She tightened her grip on the knife she held behind her back.