Jaxson's Song (21 page)

“
God,” she murmured, sickened as she continued to read. “It
was a competition to them. A
…
game.” Page after page detailed the
exploits of the two men. In his notes, Stan referred to himself and
Roger Klein as kindred spirits, like minds, “hunters.” And above
all—competitors. The things they took from the women, from their
“kills,” were the trophies. The orange ribbon. An earring; a
bracelet; a lock of hair. A bone. The souvenirs seemed to escalate
with every kill. Sometimes they would even stalk the same quarry.
Those kills were the most prized—like Mira. Her eyes quickly
scanned the last entry in the journal, and her blood ran
cold.

“
The glass room,” she uttered, forcing the words through lips
that almost refused to work.

Jaxson nodded, his
expression grim. “Was built to contain the ultimate
trophy.”

“
A human soul.”

“
Come on, we’ve got to get out of here.” Jaxson reached down
and snagged her wrist, pulling her to her feet. The journal slid to
the floor, forgotten in Kate’s haste to leave the house, and her
past, far behind. She was in full fight-or-flight mode now; the
only thing on her mind was escape.

She didn’t see it coming.
One second, she and Jaxson were running down the hallway, heading
toward the stairs, and the next, a dark figure collided with them
at the top of the stairs, rushing Jaxson and swinging the hilt of a
knife in a wide arc, sending the heavy bone-colored handle crashing
into Jaxson’s temple. He went down like a stone, without a sound.
Kate’s scream was frozen in her throat as she tripped and fell over
Jaxson’s unmoving, silent form. Quickly she scrambled to her hands
and knees, stumbling backward until she was in the glass room. Her
eyes never left the eerie, unblinking, icy blue stare of the man
who steadily advanced on her.

“
You’re Roger Klein, aren’t you?” she stuttered, hugging her
arms around her midsection and frantically searching for a way out.
There wasn’t one. She was trapped in the glass room. The only way
out was through the large, knife-wielding man who stood between her
and the door.
Why
? She silently berated
herself, fear for Jaxson and for herself making her
light-headed.
Why in the hell had she
just allowed herself to be backed into a
corner
?

In front of her now, Roger
smiled. “Hello, Kate. We finally meet.”

“
Why are you doing this?” she whispered, eyes darting left,
then right. She was going to have to try and trick him somehow, get
around him. And even if she managed to get around him, she would
have to leave Jaxson behind—if he wasn’t already dead. Tears filled
her eyes.

“
Why? To win the game, of course,” he said,
bemused.

“
But my uncle is dead. You’ve already won the damn game,” she
argued, a tear spilling over and tracking a path down the side of
her cheek. Roger extended one arm, and Kate cringed as he followed
the teardrop with the point of his knife. He licked the tip of the
blade and smiled at her, the predator to the prey. He took a step
back, running the blade along the mirrored wall beside the
doorframe.

“
Oh, no. I haven’t won the game,” he told her, regret tinging
his voice. “Not yet. But once I kill you, I will. Didn’t you know,
Kate? You were Stan’s ultimate prize. And now you’re mine,” he
said, his eyes taking on an intense sheen as his gaze roamed over
her body. “Nothing meant as much to him as you. He thought he was
so clever. He never let on about you. Oh, he talked about you, but
he refused to tell me who you were. But I was here. After Viola
died, I was here,” he laughed, gouging his knife into the glass,
then rearing back and slamming the handle of the weapon into the
wall, shattering the mirror. Large chunks of glass hit the floor,
and cracks splintered the floor, arcing beneath her feet. Kate
gasped and took an involuntary step back. “I broke into the house,
and I released Stan’s catch. I was prepared to accept a stalemate,
until I came across a very interesting journal, complete with
pictures of you.” He all but cackled, and moved toward her again.
“Stan won’t win the game. Not this time.”

Kate took a deep breath,
held it. He was going to kill her if she didn’t get out of this
room within the next thirty seconds or so. She would have to rush
him. There was no other way. She already knew she wouldn’t make it.
Silently, she counted down from ten. When she got to three, muscles
tensed and ready to run, she saw her in the mirror beside the door,
the part of the glass that wasn’t broken. In her right hand was a
blade, the same one she’d had before. Kate’s eyes widened in
horrified fascination as she watched Mira Rathe smile and lift the
blade to her own face. Unflinching, she ran the tip of the knife
down one side of her face, then the other, cutting herself,
creating long, bloody streaks all the way down both cheeks. They
looked like crimson tear tracks, and Kate cringed.

Mira stepped up behind
Roger, and again she raised her knife. Wrapping one arm around his
neck, she dragged him out of the glass room and into the hallway.
She plunged the blade in deep, over and over, until Roger lay in a
pool of blood beside Jaxson.

Kate remained frozen,
backed up against the glass wall, afraid to move and half expecting
Mira to turn on her, to come after her next. But in the next
instant, Mira Rathe had vanished.

Epilogue

Two weeks
later
…

“
Turn left here,” Kate instructed, wincing as Jaxson raised a
hand to his temple. “Do you need me to take the wheel while you
take another aspirin?” she offered.

He shook his head,
glancing toward her with a smile that only looked a little pained.
“It’s just a headache.”

“
I can drive, you know.”

“
I think I’m good for at least another hour, babe,” he said,
reaching out to twine his fingers with hers on the seat between
them. “So, how hot do you think it is today?” he asked idly,
setting the cruise control to fifty-five and leaning back with a
sigh.

“
Poor baby,” Kate teased, using her free hand to turn up the
dial on the air-conditioning another couple of notches. “There.
Better?”

“
I guess,” he grumbled.

“
Do you suppose you’ll survive in Georgia for the next twelve
months?” she asked, only half joking.

“
As long as you’re there with me?” He paused, seeming to
consider this for a moment. “Yeah, I think I’ll live,” he finally
murmured, tightening his hold on her.

“
Georgia is a little cooler than Florida. Sort of,” she added,
mumbling that last bit. “Well, it’s better than prison, anyway,”
she was quick to point out. “It was nice of your uncle to get the
judge to agree to let you do your probation at my aunt’s house—and
to make sure I was never for questioned any further in Roger
Klein’s death. I was worried I’d have to answer for that. But I
couldn’t exactly tell the police that a ghost killed
him.”

“
A clear case of legal self-defense,” Jaxson said, quoting the
Crystal Cove sheriff’s office. “I wish you’d have told them I did
it, though. So, what time is your sister expecting us?”

“
In about three hours.” Her cell phone pinged, and she
untangled her hand from Jaxson’s in order to check the display.
“Lindsey’s already there. And she can’t wait to see us,” she said,
grinning. “I miss her so much, Jaxson. I can’t hardly wait. Me,
you, my sister, and Lindsey—and of course, Gollum,” she said,
turning around to wink at the small, gray cat that lay snoozing in
the sun in the back seat of the car. “We’re getting there just in
time for a good old-fashioned Georgia Thanksgiving.” She twisted
back around in her seat, toward Jaxson. “You know what I’m thankful
for?”

“
That Chad wasn’t real?” he guessed.

She laughed.
“
Well, yeah, that too.”

“
Kidding. What are you thankful for?”

The phone rang. “Hold that
thought,” she said. “Hello? Oh, hey there,” she greeted. She placed
one hand over the phone. “It’s Rita Cash.” Putting the phone back
to her ear, she listened for a moment, then grinned. “You’re
kidding. That fast? Well, okay. Yes, absolutely yes. Okay, great.
We’ll swing back by in about a week or so, and sign the papers
then? Oh, you can fax the contract? Terrific. They understand we
can’t fix the glass in the upstairs bedroom, right? Okay, then.
Good.” She nodded. “Yes, thank you. You too. Bye.”

“
The house is sold?”

“
Full asking price,” Kate gushed. “Can you believe it?” She
sighed. “I think our luck has finally changed.”

“
So, who’s the buyer?”

She shrugged. “A single
father from somewhere up in Ohio. You know, I almost feel guilty,
though
…”

“Because of
Mira.”

“Well, yeah. I mean, I’m
basically selling these unsuspecting people a haunted house,
right?”

“In a way.” Jaxson
shrugged. “But we haven’t seen or heard from Mira Rathe since she
killed Roger Klein. Besides, she wasn’t the only thing in that
house, and you never felt unconformable there before,
right?”

Kate nodded slowly. “Not
because of ghosts, anyway.”

“You’d be amazed how many
places are 'haunted,'” he said. “The new owners will be
fine.”

“You think so?”

“Absolutely. And you still
haven’t told me what you’re thankful for.”

“Oh, that.” She grinned,
then became serious. “This year, I’m thankful for family, and good
friends…and for new beginnings.”

* * *

The house looked like
crap. Amber stood on the cracked sidewalk and breathed in the hot,
humid air. Beside her, her brother Logan stood silent and brooding.
Clearly, he wasn’t any happier to be in the so-called “Sunshine
State,” than she was. Why did they even call it that, anyway? So
far, it had done nothing but rain and storm, and there were
mosquitoes
everywhere
.

“
Come on, kids.” Their dad passed them on the sidewalk and
held up a set of keys, jiggling them so they clinked together
merrily. “Let’s get out of this heat.”

“
But it’s a
dry
heat,” she reminded him, rolling her eyes toward the gray,
cloud-filled sky.

“
Bullshit,” Logan coughed beside her.

“
I don’t see why we had to leave Ohio,” she complained loudly,
tucking a section of chocolate-brown hair behind one shoulder and
crossing her arms over her chest.

Logan nudged her and shook
his head, then followed their dad into the house, leaving her
standing on the sidewalk, alone. Overhead, the streetlight
flickered, throwing strange, long shadows on the pavement before
her. A chill crept along her spine, and she had the strangest
sensation of being watched. Quickly she glanced back to the house,
to the second story, where a shadow lingered in the house’s only
brand new window. But when she blinked, the shadow was gone.
Shaking her head, she followed her father and Logan into the
house.

The inside wasn’t as bad
as she’d thought it would be. She wandered up the stairs after
Logan, shaking her head as he called out “Dibs!” from the largest
of the bedrooms. She opened one door after another, pausing in the
hallway over a dark stain in the rug. It was faded, like someone
had tried to wash it out, but the marks were still there, slightly
darker than the droplet type stains on the staircase. These almost
looked like
…

“
Is that blood?” she asked Logan, watching him amble down the
hall toward her.

“
Maybe.” He shrugged, totally unconcerned. “Who knows. This
place is old. What’s in there?” he asked, gesturing to the door
behind her at the end of the hall.

“
My room,” she shot back, turning her back on Logan and
striding forward to twist the knob and shove the door
open.

“
What in God’s name
…
”

“
Woah.”

Inside, the entire room
was one perfectly seamless, spotless, glass box.

Thank you for reading Jaxson’s Song, the
first book in my new Crystal Cove series. If you’ve enjoyed this
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