The Ghost Files 3 (7 page)

“The first one happened before we went to New Orleans,” I begin, aware of the tremor in my voice. “I was at Dan’s and we fell asleep on his living room floor. I thought at first I’d woken up and that a ghost was in his bedroom. I wanted to make it go away before Dan got up and freaked out.” Eli snorts at this and I elbow him sharply. “When I opened the door, I stepped into an artist’s studio and I saw…him…working on a canvas. Silas. But I didn’t know his name.”

I pause, remembering how much I’d needed to see what Silas was painting. It had made me go deeper into the room instead of running like I should have. Maybe none of this would be happening right now if I’d just run away.

“He was painting a portrait of a woman. She looked very familiar to me, but I didn’t know why. I’ve never seen her before. There was just something about his painting that drew me to it, something dark. When I got closer, I realized he was using blood instead of paint. There was a woman under a blood-soaked sheet nearby. He was bleeding her dry.”

Eli’s arms tighten around me and I lean back. Just remembering the dream makes me want to curl up and hide from the way it made me feel, how it still
makes me feel. It fascinated me then, and much to my own horror, it still does.

“He knew I was there,” I whisper. “He asked
me
why he was using blood as paint.”

“Weird question. So…why?” Dan asks, finally curious instead of mad.

“The life of a person resides in the blood. Blood contains pieces of the soul, the life-essence. He used blood to bring life to his work. It was awful, but beautiful, too.” I went on quickly, seeing Dan’s horror. “The woman in the portrait made me feel her pain, her agony. It bled with emotions.”

“Dan said he slit your wrist?” Eli prompts when I don’t say anything else.

I nod. “The painter wanted to show me how powerful
my
blood was. He froze me in place, like my feet were encased in ice. Black goo had oozed out of him, his eyes burned…” My voice trembles again. “It was an onyx fire. Weird, right? He took my hand, slit my wrist, and let the blood drip into a jar. When he used my blood on the canvas…” I take a deep, shuddering breath. “When he did that, the painting came to life. It moved, it breathed.
My
blood did that.”

“She woke up screaming,” Dan finishes. “When I saw her wrist…” his voice trails off.

“
You
thought I’d done that to myself, remember?” I grouch, giving Dan a half-hearted glare.

Dan glares back. “Mattie, I’d just had a long conversation with Nancy about how depressed you were and the self-destructive mode you’d slipped into. What was I supposed to think?”

“You know me better than that,” I tell him softly. “I can’t believe you thought I’d do something that
selfish
.”

“Okay, okay…” Eli gives my shoulders a squeeze. “Back to the story. So the second time it happened was when we
were all in New Orleans?”

He’s trying to change the subject. Smart boy. “Yeah, Eli. He asked me if I knew what was missing from his painting. My answer
—that it wasn’t alive like his last one was. There was a lot of emotion in the painting, but it lacked the life of the previous one. He showed me again what my blood did for his painting.”

“Huh. It sounds like he was trying to teach you something,” Eli muses.

“It’s not something
I want to learn,” I whisper. As if I would ever kill anyone for their blood!

“So, what
did
he want from you?” Eli asks. “What did you promise Silas if he fixed your hands?”

“Nothing,” I tell him. “He didn’t want anything. He told me it was a freebie.”

Eli frowns. “No, Mattie. Demons never do something without expecting payment.”

“Silas has never asked me
for anything all the times he’s helped me.”

“What? He’s helped you more than once?” Dan asks, his face going pale.

“Yeah, big-time. When we were in the house, he helped me beat Jonas.” That makes me shudder again. Jonas was the ghost in the haunted house. He’d been collecting the energy of all the ghosts he’d trapped there, becoming one of the most powerful spirits I’ve ever encountered. “Silas helped me understand how to open the doorway to the other side so the trapped spirits could cross over. Between Dan and Caleb salting his bones,
and
depleting Jonas of his main energy source, it weakened him enough so I could kill him.”

“I’m gonna repeat this. Demons
don’t
do freebies, Mattie.” Eli shakes his head. “Are you sure you never gave him anything?”

“No, aside from the blood he took, I never gave or promised him anything.” I give Eli another elbow-nudge. “I swear.”

“What’s his game?” Eli mutters.

“Well, when he came to see me at the hospital we talked,” I finally admit.

“At the hospital. Right. What did he want?” Dan demands.

“You’re not gonna like it,” I warn him.

“I didn’t figure I would.” Dan sighs and sits across from us. “What did he say?”

“Well, Silas said he wanted to give me a gift because I’d pleased him so much. He told me I had no idea of what he went through to make sure I was born and he was…well, excited with the results.”

“What does
that
mean?” Dan frowns.

“As if
I
would know,” I say, biting back irritation. “Anyway, he healed my hands after that and told me he’d only finished what I’d started.”

Dan’s frown deepened. “What
you’d
started?”

“Yeah, he said that when I killed Jonas, I’d used my soul to do it and the energy from that action had begun healing my hands.” I nod.
“Seriously. He also said I’d eventually learn to do it myself.”

“You can heal yourself?” Eli
asks, surprised.

I shrug, but say nothing. No, I can’t heal myself. Not yet
, anyway.

“Okay, little brother, do you know why Silas would be so interested in her?” Dan asks.

Eli snorts at the ‘little brother’ comment. I want to elbow him, even more sharply than usual. It’s Dan’s way of trying for a relationship, but Eli won’t see it that way. “No, I don’t. I help Dad and Caleb with the ghost stuff, but this goes way beyond simple interest. All I’m getting from this is…basically, Silas said he’d ensured Mattie would be born. Therefore, she’s obviously important to him, but why?”

“Maybe because of her blood?” Dan frowns. “He seemed really interested in that.”

“Maybe.” Eli nods. “But until we know more, let’s keep our options open.”

At that moment, a truck pulls into the driveway. Caleb and Mary. Finally! She bounces out of the truck and up the steps.

“Hey, need this?” She grins and holds up a key. The grin fades at our serious expressions. “What’s wrong?”

“What
isn’t
wrong, Mary?” I laugh bitterly.

“The fact that you’re curled up in the hottie’s lap?” She smirks and I laugh. Leave it to Mary to find something funny in any situation.

“Yeah, there is that,” I say and let Eli pull me to my feet. “Eli Malone, this is Mary Cross, my new foster sister.”

“Just sisters. Skip the foster bit.” Mary makes a face at me. “I told you. You’re my sister and that’s that.”

“I have a feeling Mary gets whatever she wants.” Caleb smiles when Mary turns to enter the house.

“Well, she
is
a force of nature,” I agree and follow her inside. “Let me get my sketchpad and I’ll do those drawings for you, Dan.”

Mary follows me up the stairs and as soon as she shuts my door, she turns on me. “Okay, Hathaway, why didn’t you tell me you’d met the hottest guys ever?”

“What?” I laugh.

“Ohmygod.” She fans herself. “Caleb is so freaking hot, he could melt butter!”

I shake my head and gather art supplies, ready to head downstairs. “Hands off Eli. You can have Caleb.”

“Eli, huh? He is a cutie, but…
wait, did you tell Dan you’d make
sketches
for him?” Her frown deepens when she sees my hands. “What happened? They look better…”

I cringe. Mary walks with a limp after her time with Mrs. Olson in the torture chamber. How is she going to feel about me if I’m not damaged anymore? Will she stop being my friend because I’m better physically and she’s not? My old
insecurities kick in and I want to be anywhere but right here, right now.

“They
are
better,” I tell her, unwilling to look at Mary.

“But how? I can’t even see the pins.”

I take a deep breath. Here goes. “Mary, they were healed while I was in New Orleans.”

“Healed?” She grabs one hand and runs her fingers over it. “Where are the metal pins?”

“I don’t know. They just disappeared.” I
have
to tell her. Mary’s my…sister.

“Mattie, this is…it’s…it’s amazing,” she
whispers reverently. “How?”

“It’s a little scary,” I tell her. “Dan and Eli are freaking over it. I just told them.”

“Why?”

“Because a demon
named Silas healed my hands.” Her eyes snap back to my face. “I’m not kidding. He’s taken a particular interest in me. I’m not sure if you and your mom are safe.”

“We’ll deal with it
.” She shrugs. “I
don’t care how it happened, this is awesome, Mattie!”

“You’re really okay with it?”

“Yeah, did you think I wouldn’t be?”

“Well, yeah, maybe,” I admit. “I thought you’d be upset because of your leg…”

“Mattie, you’d be happy for me if my leg got all better, right?” she asks.

“Sure.”

“Then why think I wouldn’t be happy for you? I’m supposed to get all jealous and stop being your friend just because you’re better and I’m not? Sisters don’t do that.”

This girl means it. I let out a breath. Wow. Mary
isn’t mad. She’s really something special.

“Silly girl,” Mary
laughs. “Let’s go back downstairs and enjoy the eye candy.”

For the first time all day, a real smile flirts with my face. Mary still thinks of me as family. Maybe things won’t turn so badly after all.

Chapter Seven

An hour later, I hand my sketchbook to Dan. My fingers are cramped and tired. It’s been ages since I’ve drawn anything, but it’s a welcome feeling. I’ve missed it so much. My art is what defines me. If I can’t do that, then I feel useless.

“Wow, Mattie, these are…” Caleb’s voice trails off as he looks at the portraits of the dead girls over Dan’s shoulder.

“Gruesome?” Eli asks mildly, just as fascinated.

“Beautiful,” Dan says. “Dark, moody
—
and
gruesome, but beautiful.”

I beam at Dan. He always thinks my stuff is brilliant. It’s one of the reasons I keep him around. The images are pretty good replicas of the girls I’d seen. I can only draw them as I saw them: broken, bloody, and bruised. The images on the paper, even in black and white
, are vibrant, shouting at anyone who looks at them. You can see the pain and anguish in their faces. It reminds me a little of Silas’s portraits. I frown. So not good. I don’t want my work to look like
his
.

“Do you think you can get a hit with the facial recognition software?” I ask Dan, to distract myself from the similarities between mine and the demon’s work.

“Ooh, do we have a case?” Mary asks, coming in with a tray laden with ham and cheese sub sandwiches. Caleb moves to help, but she waves him off and sets the plate on the coffee table.

“No,
we
don’t have a case,” Dan tells her. “
I
have a case.”

“Actually, I believe
Mattie
has the case,” Eli smirks. “You got jack without her.”

“Will both of you stop it?” I ask before an argument can erupt. “If Mary wants to help, then she can. You have enough to worry about right now anyway, Officer Dan. How do you expect to have the time to trudge around looking for clues? Your dad and Cam need you more than I do right now.”

“Because you have Eli?” he snarls.

That does it! “Outside, right now,” I say softly and march out the front door. Dan follows me and closes it behind him.

“You need to stop,” I begin. “You have no right to be jealous!
You’re
going out with Meg or did you forget about your girlfriend? The same girlfriend you threw me to the ground for?”

He winces and has the good grace to look ashamed. “I swear to you, Mattie, I didn’t realize I’d done that. I wouldn’t have done it on purpose. You have to believe that.”