The Departed

The Departed

A MacKinnon Curse novel

Book Three

By

J.A. Templeton

The Departed – J A Templeton

Copyright 2012 @ Julia Templeton

ISBN:
978-0-9837367-5-2

Cover photography by Korie Nicole Photography (male cover model: Blake Williams), and Amanda Johansen (female cover model and photographer).

Cover illustration by Kim Killion of Hot Damn Designs.

This book is a work of fiction. Characters and events portrayed in this book are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental and not intended by the author.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.

Other books by J.A. Templeton

The Deepest Cut (a MacKinnon Curse Novel: Book One)

The Haunted (a MacKinnon Curse Novel: Book Two)

To my wonderful readers—

Thank you for your support…and for loving my characters as much as I do.

I appreciate you SO much!

Chapter 1

The lights in my room were off, and the few candles gave off an eerie glow. For whatever reason, my friends thought it would be a good idea to bring a Ouija board to the slumber party.

As Cait set up the board, warning bells went off in my head, but apparently I was the only one who was concerned. Both Cass and Megan were eating popcorn and laughing, while taking sips off a fifth of rum that Cass had stolen from her stepmother.

Cait, wearing a wife-beater and pajama pants with skulls and crossbones, sat on her knees in front of the board. Hands resting on knees, she was all business. “Lightly touch your fingertips to this white plastic thing here.”

“It’s called a planchette,” Cass blurted.

Cait rolled her eyes. “Place your fingers on the
planchette
. We’ll ask spirits to contact us and they will communicate through the board.”

This was all kinds of wrong; I felt it deep in my bones. Megan glanced at me. Was it my imagination, or was she a little hesitant? Cass obediently placed her fingers on the planchette.

I followed their lead.

We were quite the eclectic group with our pajama selection. Megan wore slightly thready flannel pajamas, Cass wore a silk and lace number that looked like something her stepmum would have worn, while I’d thrown on a white long-sleeved shirt and an old pair of faded sweats.

“We invite any spirits to join us tonight,” Cait said in such a serious tone, Cass and Megan immediately cracked up.

Cait scowled at them. “Be serious, you two.”

Unable to shake my misgivings, I took my fingers off the planchette. “I don’t know about this. I just don’t think—”

“You can watch if you’re uncomfortable,” Cait said, her tone made it seem like she was almost daring me to participate.

I
so
wasn’t comfortable. “Are you sure you don’t mind if I sit this one out?”

Cass did her typical eye roll. “Buzzkill,” she muttered playfully under her breath.

Damn, I was tired of being considered a buzzkill because I didn’t drink or want to play with a Ouija board.

Megan flashed a sympathetic smile my way.

I put my hands in my lap and inched back away from the board.

The seconds ticked away into a minute, and then another. The only thing that I could hear was the sound of my heart pounding in my ears.

Cait shifted a little. “Anyone who wants to communicate with us, please do so now. Use the planchette that we’re all touching—to speak. Let us know that you can hear us.”

It was obvious this wasn’t Cait’s first time with a Ouija board. She was totally into it, even focusing on her breathing, inhaling deeply, and then releasing in a steady rhythm. I was surprised, especially given the fact how sheltered her home life seemed to be. I couldn’t imagine Mrs. MacKinnon allowing her kids to summon spirits.

Again, nothing happened. We all just sat bug-eyed staring at the board. Then, ever so slowly, the air around us turned freezing cold.

Megan’s eyes widened in alarm and she brushed her hands up and down her arms. “Do you feel that?”

“What?” Cass asked, frowning. Apparently she didn’t feel anything.

“Are you female?” Cait asked, excitement in her voice.

The planchette moved toward
NO
.

I breathed a sigh of relief.

“What is your name?” Cass said slowly. “Please spell it out letter by letter.”

P-E-T-E-R.

Cait stole a glance at me, reminding me I had told her about Peter that day at the football game when she’d asked me if I could see spirits.

I sat up straighter and instantly relaxed. If Peter was here, then why didn’t he show himself to me? Aside from the school, he seemed to steer clear of homes and other buildings. Even when he’d walked with me to the castle one day, he had stayed at the property line.

Realizing he might just be a little gun-shy, I took heart that we were dealing with a benevolent spirit and started to relax. Who knew, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all…

Abruptly, the planchette moved to the side of the board, and the arrow pointed directly at me.

“I think he wants to communicate with you, Riley,” Megan said, brown eyes wide.

I wondered if I should tell Cass and Megan that I knew of a boy spirit named Peter…or maybe I needed to just keep quiet for now.

Since Cait didn’t bring the subject up, I decided to not say anything.

Megan cleared her throat. “Peter, how old are you?”

The planchette moved to the number one and then one again.

“Eleven,” the three said in unison, and I smiled inwardly.

Yep, we had my Peter all right.

The planchette moved again. “R-I-L-E-Y,” everyone said together.

Megan smiled. “Um, I think he likes you, Ri.”

I grinned. I liked him, too.

“How did you die, Peter?” Cass asked, her excitement obvious to everyone.

M-U-R-D-E-R-E-D.

I frowned. Okay, the spirit must not be my Peter. He wouldn’t have told me he’d died from tuberculosis if he’d been murdered, right? Unless I’d heard him wrong. Had I gotten the information messed up with someone else he’d been talking about, like a family member? I thought back over our conversation and I could swear he’d said he’d died of the illness.

And what were the chances of there being two ghosts by the name of Peter that were eleven years old?

Cait cleared her throat. “Peter, how were you murdered?”

The planchette didn’t budge.

I glanced up at Cait, whose brows furrowed together. “Maybe he’s afraid to tell us.”

A putrid odor filled my nostrils, making bile rise in my throat. I looked around at my friends, wondering why they weren’t reacting to it. Unless…I was the only one who could smell it.

“Who murdered you?” Cait asked. Our gazes met for a second. Had I told her how Peter had died?

The planchette moved at lightning speed.

M-A-C-K-I-N-N-O-N.

M-A-C-K-I-N-N-O-N.

M-A-C-K-I-N-N-O-N.

Cait jerked her hands away from the planchette. She glanced at me. “Tell me this isn’t some kind of sick joke.”

I shook my head. “I swear.”

She turned to Cass and Megan. Their eyes were huge and they shook their heads adamantly, their hands now in their laps. “We swear.”

“You’re the one who brought the Ouija board here, Cait,” Cass said, stating the obvious, and looking pissed off that Cait would even accuse her of such a thing.

Cait’s throat contracted as she swallowed hard.

Obviously Peter hadn’t been killed by the MacKinnons, but I knew who had been…apparently the same ghost who was pretending to be a sweet, eleven-year-old boy that I had befriended. I thought back on all the things I had said to Peter, how I’d confided in him and how I’d truly believed he was a young boy who had died of an illness before he’d had a chance to grow to adulthood.

What a heinous thing for Laria to do, but what did I expect? We were talking about the same ghost who had masqueraded as my dead mother, possessed my brother and my friend, and made Kade believe he was with me the night of Tom’s party instead of with Dana.

Laria was ruthless. In fact, what else had she done that I wasn’t even aware of?

“Is there a MacKinnon here now?” Cass asked.

Cait’s mouth was wide open. “What are you doing?”

The planchette moved by itself, toward Cait, then slowly spelled out
M-A-C-K-I-N-N-O-N.

“Oh shit,” Cass said under her breath.

“What year did you die?” I asked, my heart pounding hard, but needing to know the answer.

The planchette moved slowly toward the numbers. Stopping at the number one, then at the seven, then eight, then six.

I felt the blood drain from my face.

“1786.” Cait sat back, and I could see her grappling for an answer. “That’s over two hundred years ago.”

“Your name isn’t Peter, is it?” I asked before I could stop myself. I needed to know the truth.

All three of my friends’ heads whipped toward me, and I clearly saw the confusion on their faces.

NO.

It felt like someone had hit me in the gut. “Your name is Laria, isn’t it?”

“Who the fuck is Laria?” Cass asked, her voice mirroring the fear on her face.

I wasn’t surprised, especially since a similar fear consumed me.

“She was a servant who practiced witchcraft and died at the castle a couple hundred years ago,” Cait said solemnly. “She poisoned a descendant of mine, Ian MacKinnon, and his family hung her and buried her on unhallowed ground.”

“Bloody hell,” Cass said, looking horrified. “A witch? But that still doesn’t explain how Riley knew, though.”

“Meg and Cass, do you remember the woman we saw on our way home from Aberdeen?”

Cass and Megan glanced at each other and nodded.

“That woman was Laria, a spirit who has been haunting me since I moved here.”

Cass came slowly to her feet. “This is too twisted for me. I mean, if you came up with this to scare me, props to you, because it worked.”

“I’m not making it up,” I said, sounding as tired as I felt. “I wish I was.”

Megan reached for Cass’s hand and pulled her back down beside her.

“You’re fucking serious, aren’t you?” Cass asked.

Without a word, Megan reached for the fifth and took a long drink. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, her gaze settling on me. “I didn’t say anything to either of you. I was too afraid to, but she touched me that day…and her hands were like ice. Her face was so pale. Like an unearthly white. I felt so many weird thoughts and feelings race through me in that moment.”

I remembered Megan acting a bit off after that encounter. Had Laria been possessing her from that point? I wondered. I wished I could bring up the ride home from the game tonight, the way Laria had taken over Megan and drove the car without even looking at the road…and the creepy way her head had twisted around toward the headrest. But I knew it would be too much for any of my friends to hear right now, especially Megan, so I kept the information to myself.

“What does Peter have to do with Laria? I don’t get it,” Megan said, stealing a concerned glance at Cass, who looked ready to bolt for the door.

“I think that Peter is actually Laria,” I blurted.

“Wait?” Cait said, scrambling to her feet. “What?”

Cass took a swig and handed the bottle to Cait, who didn’t mess around and took three large gulps before handing it to Megan.

Megan took a swallow and handed it to me. I took a sip, and winced as the liquor burned its way down my throat. I handed the fifth to Cass.

“What do we do now?” Megan asked.

“What do you want, Laria?” I asked, and held my breath expectantly, waiting for the response.

D-E-A-T-H.

My heart dropped to my toes.

“Whose death?” Cass asked, before anyone could stop her.

A-L-L-O-F-Y-O-U.

Chapter 2

“Oh, hell no,” Cass said, taking the planchette and throwing it across the room where it hit the wall with a thud. “No fucking way.”

She was looking at me, wanting answers where, unfortunately, I didn’t have any.

Cait, who was the calmest of everyone, slid her hands down her face. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought the board. What a mistake.”

“Ya think?” Cass said, shaking her head. “Tell me this is bullshit because I am ready to walk out the door.”

“It’s not a joke, Cass. I wish it were.” I stood and walked over to the bed, moved the pillow out of the way where they could see the word ‘DIE’ carved into my headboard.