Dead Spots (29 page)

“C'mon. Let's go get cleaned up.”

“I don't want to see the shark!”

“If the TV is on, just close your eyes and I'll guide you, okay?”

Mackenzie was touched by Dawn's sweetness, but it also made her a little anxious. Mackenzie could see her own need to help others reflected in Dawn. She wondered if Dawn would end up witnessing Grace's death just as Mackenzie had watched Tildy die.

Worry wrinkled Grace's forehead and she chewed on her bottom lip, but she nodded. “Okay.”

Dawn planted a cheery, but not very convincing smile on her face. “A nice shower will make you feel better. I promise. Grant, the bathroom is at the top of the stairs, right?”

“Yes, it is. Let me show you where it is.” Grant joined them near the hallway entrance. Grace reached out and grabbed his hand, smiling up at him rapturously. Mackenzie felt a small spark of jealousy, but mostly was amused by Grace's blatant, but childish flirtatious smile.

“I'll be just a moment,” Grant said to Mackenzie before leading the two women out of the kitchen.

Leaning back against the counter, Mackenzie rubbed her throbbing temple. Exhaustion and pain were keeping her anxiety in check, but she could feel it pooling in the depths of her mind. The arguing voices were getting louder and it wasn't helping her headache at all. She considered walking into the living room to turn off the television and tell them all to shut up, but she didn't really want to see any piece of the famous shark movie. She scurried up the hall to the base of the stairs, averting her eyes from the television as she grabbed the newel post, swung about, and hurried up the steps. The haunting, terrifying music from John Williams's score followed in her wake.

“I like this movie! I can't just ignore what I like because this fucking place might do something twisted with it!” Brian's voice sounded from below.

“We can't take risks, Brian! Especially with Grace around!” Ted sounded desperate and afraid.

“Grace isn't doing it!”

“Turn the damn TV off!” Jared shouted. “Give me the remote!”

Mackenzie reached the second floor and scooted past Dawn and Grace, who were watching Grant explain where everything was located for their showers. She glanced into the bathroom long enough to see Grant gazing after her worriedly.

“Are you sure sharks can't get through the pipes?” Grace asked doubtfully.

Mackenzie just wanted to lie down and sort out her thoughts. The dream had shaken her and the new arrivals had brought a fresh set of problems. Retiring to the bedroom, Mackenzie sprawled across the bed. She could still hear the men downstairs arguing and Grace plying Grant with questions. Laying her hand over her eyes, she tried to block out the voices. She needed to think and the noise was distracting her.

Then she heard something that made her heart stutter and her body tense.

“Do you think the Clown will come in and do tricks for us tonight?” Grace's voice asked loudly from the hallway. “I really like his blue hair.”

 

CHAPTER 19

The Clown stood silent and still in the open field, a cloud of balloons hovering, stationary, around him. The flowing iridescent ribbons dangling from the balloons danced in the breeze, the only movement other than the swaying grass. It was difficult to catch her breath. Her chest felt like it was being gradually squeezed by a vice. The sensation dramatically increased when Tildy strode around the corner of the house and tilted her head to gaze up at the window. The emaciated woman's cold, dead eyes glinted and her lips spread into a feral smile. As she lifted one hand, her long, clawlike fingers waved.

Gasping, Mackenzie swiveled away from the window, crashing into Grant. She hadn't heard him enter the room and when his hands closed around her upper arms, she attempted to shove him away. “Don't touch me!”

“It's me, Mackenzie,” Grant said, managing to hold on to her despite her attempts to wrench free.

“The Clown! Tildy!” Mackenzie pointed toward the window. “They're out there!”

“Mackenzie, they can't get in,” Grant said in a fierce voice, slightly shaking her. “You have control!”

“What if she lets them in? What if Ted and Jared are right? What if Grace lets them in and they—” The edges of her vision were blurring. Breathless, she sagged against Grant.

“Mackenzie, you need to stop being hysterical,” he whispered in her ear. “Calm down.”

“You don't understand … I'm not sure I'm strong enough to keep them out,” Mackenzie whispered in a raspy voice. If she couldn't even protect the child that had been growing inside of her, how could she keep out the monsters and protect the people taking refuge in the house? “Grant, I don't want to be the reason other people die. I already lost Tildy today.” Finding it difficult to stand, she took a step toward the bed, but her knees buckled. Grant caught her, lifted her up into his arms, and carried her to the bed.

Tucking a pillow under her head, Grant leaned over her. His voice was firm, but calming. “You're in control. They can't get in unless you let them in.”

His face shrouded in shadows, Grant pressed his lips to her forehead. The intimacy of the gesture sent shivers through her body, and she closed her eyes. The gentle touch of his fingers stroking her hair gradually diminished the chaos in her mind. Tanner had often comforted her in the exact same way in the past. He'd always known how to calm her and make her feel protected from the troubles of the world. It was too easy to imagine he was here with her, holding her, keeping her safe.

Like her earlier dream, Tanner's ghostly presence dissolved into Grant. His body was sturdier, heavier, and more muscular than Tanner's. His fingers were soft, not roughened by hard labor. He smelled like lavender and soap, not the open air and fresh earth. It felt terribly wrong to feel another man touching her, comforting her, and arousing her.

Opening her eyes, she saw desire in Grant's gaze. His fingertips glided over the edge of her chin and his lips hovered close to hers. Though her rational mind screamed for her not to give in to her body's growing arousal and her need to be comforted, she didn't move to resist him. In fact, it was as if she couldn't muster the energy to refuse him.

An eerie stillness filled her as he caressed her face and laid gentle kisses on her lips. She didn't respond, but she didn't deny his touch. The seductive languor of the earlier dream ate at her defenses. Was it so terrible to give in? To crave a moment of comfort? Grant's hand on her hip sent tremors of desire mixed with anxiety through her. Could she let someone touch her like Tanner had? Could she let Grant in to her body and possibly her heart? She felt split in half. One piece was dying to surrender to the man that found her desirable, while another part of her mind remained unmoved and separate from the growing passion between them, rummaging worriedly through all that had transpired in the last day. It was difficult to let go of her fears.

“What about the Clown? Grace liked the Clown,” Mackenzie whispered against Grant's kiss.

“Mackenzie, if the monsters enter it's because you let them in.” Covering her mouth with his as if to silence her, he deepened the kiss as his tongue seductively flicked hers.

A comment one of the newcomers had said swirled up from the dying embers of the raging fire of anxiety that was slowly being replaced by the cool, calming waves of Grant's touch. Struggling to grasp it, she turned her face away from Grant, and his lips slid downward to nip the curve of her throat. A surge of panic ripped through her the second her mind ascertained what was bothering her.

“She never dies!” Pushing him off, she stared at Grant in horror. “Grace never dies because she's not one of us!”

“Mackenzie, you're panicking. Just relax.”

“No!” Mackenzie pushed his hands away, struggling to escape the covers of the bed that suddenly seemed determined to wrap around her ankles and keep her trapped.

“You're not making sense, Mackenzie!”

“Yes, I am! It all makes sense! She doesn't die because she's a wraith! She's the one in control. Don't you see? The group let her in and that's why they're never safe. We're not safe!” Mackenzie finally broke free of the sheets and comforter and launched herself out of the bed. Pounding across the room to the bedroom door, ignoring the pain throbbing in her swollen feet, she felt anger and fear washing away the vestiges of desire. Twisting the doorknob, she jerked the door open and startled Brian. He'd been walking past the doorway.

“Where's Grace?” Mackenzie demanded.

“Downstairs with Dawn. They're putting their clothes in the washer,” Brian answered a tad warily. He studied her flushed face. “What's up with you?”

“Grace! It's Grace,” Mackenzie said in a low voice.

“Oh, shit. Not you, too!” Rolling his eyes, Brian shook his head and took a step away from her.

Mackenzie grabbed his arm and yanked him about. His annoyance only made her angrier. “She's a wraith, Brian. That's why she never dies. That's why you can't form safe havens. You're letting in the thing you want to keep out!” Mackenzie stared into the boy's eyes, trying to communicate the truth of her statement. She knew without a doubt she was right.

“No, she's not.” Anger sparked in his eyes, but his tone lacked conviction. “You're wrong. That's … that's … stupid.”

“You know!” Mackenzie gaped at him in disbelief, yet she could see it clearly stamped on his features. “You know she's a wraith.”

The young man's jaw tightened, his mouth twisting nervously. His gaze darted toward Grant, who lingered just behind Mackenzie in the bedroom. “Grant, tell her she doesn't understand.”

Grant remained silent, his hand gently coming to rest on Mackenzie's shoulder. She wasn't sure if he meant it as a sign of solidarity or to possibly hold her in place.

“No, Brian, I don't understand! Why didn't you tell the others? Why have you been defending her?” Mackenzie grabbed his wrist tightly, but he jerked away.

“Let go of me, bitch!”

“Brian, she's killing you and the others over and over again,” Mackenzie said.

“She doesn't hurt Dawn! The other things do sometimes, but Grace leaves Dawn alone,” Brian hissed.

“But you and the others die because of Grace!”

“Brian, you've been feeding a wraith.” Grant's voice was clipped and hushed, obviously trying to keep the conversation from the people below.

“I didn't know at first, but I figured it out, okay? A few weeks ago, I figured it out. We have a deal now. She doesn't hurt Dawn.” Brian's eyes glimmered with tears. “As long as I feed her, she won't hurt Dawn.”

“You're feeding her yourself and the others.” The horror that filled Mackenzie was overwhelming. The atmosphere altered around her, becoming more ominous and foreboding. “And us. You're feeding her us!”

Brian's face darkened. “You had to fuck it up, didn't you? Maybe she would have gone easy on you since she was glutted earlier, but you had to go and fuck it up.” The fury in his lowered voice was terrifying. “What happens next is your fault!”

“You're doing this so Dawn will stay with you. You're using Grace to keep her with you! Don't you realize what will happen if you keep sacrificing yourself? You'll turn into a wraith!” It all made terrible sense to Mackenzie's broken heart. She understood the terrible things a person would do to try to keep the person they loved with them. How many times had she begged Tanner to stay? How many times had she tried to bargain with God to work a miracle and restore her baby and Tanner?

“At least then I can control this world. I can protect Dawn even better if I'm a wraith. I'll guard her and protect her when I finally become one.” Brian shifted his gaze to Grant. “You know how it is. How it is to want to protect the one you love at all costs.”

“We need to get Grace out of here!” Mackenzie exclaimed. “Now.”

Shaking free of Grant's grip, Mackenzie rushed through the hallway to the top of the stairs. Thumping footsteps in her wake made her scurry down the stairs faster than she should have. Her battered foot slipped on the steps and she fell hard on her right hip. The pain was jarring and she let out an agonized cry.

At the top of the stairs Grant and Brian struggled, their voices rising. The argument was background noise to Mackenzie's wildly beating heart. The front door was shrouded in shadows and the barricade appeared horribly flimsy in the light of the revelation about Grace's nature.

“Mac?” Ted's voice sounded below. She peered through the slats of the banister to see him standing in the hallway below staring at her with concern. “Did you fall?”

“It's Grace,” Mackenzie said through teeth gritted with pain. She rubbed her hip with trembling fingers, trying to work out the painful knot. “She's a wraith.”

“What?” Ted's eyes widened.

“She's a wraith. Brian has a deal with her—”

“Telling stories isn't nice.” Grace stepped out of the living room, an icy glass of chocolate milk grasped in her small hand. She was dressed in pink sweats that she had borrowed from the former homeowner's closet.

“I know what you are,” Mackenzie said boldly. Holding on to the banister, she heaved herself upward, balancing herself carefully on her good leg.

Behind Grace, Dawn appeared, her brow crinkled with distaste. “Don't you start, too.”

“She's a wraith, Dawn. Brian made a deal with her to spare you.”

“That's bullshit. I've died, too!”

Ted nodded reluctantly in agreement. “That's true. Dawn has died a few times. I know because I tried to save her.”

“How about in the last few weeks? Has she been dying less? Maybe Brian more? Because he wants to be what Grace is so he can keep Dawn.”

“He can't have her! She's mine,” Grace said, licking her milk mustache. “Dawn belongs to me.”