“Do you believe us now?” Shane said.
Dad went to help Cheryl, who jumped when Dad put a hand on her shoulder.
“There’s something here, Scott,” Cheryl said. “They’re not kidding. Whatever it was, it moved me effortlessly. I had no control at all, and whoever—or
whatever
—it was, had a lot of strength, because there was no struggle at all. And it was cold.” She gave a shiver. “Like I was standing in a meat locker.”
Dad watched her closely as she talked. Now that his girlfriend was telling him she believed us, maybe now he would finally believe too.
Shane yanked the candles out of the holders in the adjoining room and lit one for each of us.
“I think I put the torch under the kitchen sink,” Miss Akin said.
Dad glanced at Shane. “Will you get the flashlight, Shane?”
“I’ll go with you,” I said, and we walked together out of the room. I was relieved to get out of there, away from Dad’s stare and Cheryl, who was watching me with a combination of fear and sympathy.
The second we were in the kitchen, Shane turned to me. “What the hell just happened in there?”
“This is getting out of control.” I ran a hand through my hair. “How much worse can it get?”
“Don’t say that.”
Directly overhead we heard heavy footsteps.
Shane looked at me, brows lifted nearly to his hairline. “I bet Dad is thinking that Portland wouldn’t be so bad right about now.”
Portland didn’t have Cheryl, though. If she stuck around after this, I’d have to give her props.
Something in the room moved. We both saw it, because Shane squinted into the darkness. “What the hell was that?”
I lifted the candle and every single cabinet door and drawer in the kitchen was wide open. The refrigerator door slowly swung open, the light casting a hazy glow into the kitchen. “How come the refrigerator light works but we’ve lost power?”
Or maybe spirits were turning lights on and off at will.
Shane grabbed my arm, and moved in front of me. “I don’t know but let’s get that flashlight.”
The flashlight was right where Miss Akin said it would be, and Shane turned it on.
At the same time a hand pressed flat against my back.
“What’s going on in there?” Dad yelled. He sounded furious.
A wave of dizziness washed over me, making me grab Shane. I fisted his T-shirt with one hand, and clenched the candle tight with the other.
Shadows were everywhere, and I felt them pushing closer. I heard my name being repeated over and over again, and it wasn’t just one person, but many people talking over each other.
I started to sweat and experienced what felt like ants running all over my body. In fact, I expected to look down to see bugs crawling on me.
There was nothing.
Laria, Randall, and the others were trying to drive me crazy.
I stopped in mid-step and stared at the wavering candle in my hand, suddenly mesmerized by the golden flame. I brought the wick to my arm, craving the red-hot flame against my skin.
Shane glanced back at me. Eyes wide, he swatted the candle out of my hand. It flew across the kitchen and hit the window, where it extinguished. “What were you doing?”
I blinked a few times. “I don’t know.” But I did know. I had nearly burned myself. I had
wanted
to burn myself. I had wanted to hurt myself and experience that familiar sensation of pain.
My brother was terrified. I could see the concern in his eyes. We had both grown up a lot in the year since our mom had died, but the past months had made us grow up even more. We were different people now from when we had been when we arrived in Braemar.
Suddenly, the lights flickered and then went on.
“Thank God,” Dad said from the dining room.
Miss Akin walked around the kitchen corner at the same time. Her gaze moved from Shane to me and back again. Shane walked over to the window and picked the candle off the sill. Miss A put her hand out. “I’ll take those.” She stopped short seeing the opened cupboards and drawers. “I think I’ll be drinking some lavender tea tonight to settle my nerves. Anyone else care for a cup?”
Shane lifted his hand.
“Everything all right here?” Miss A asked, looking directly at me.
I nodded.
“We need to figure this out once and for all,” Shane said, as he sat on a barstool and pushed the other one out for me.
“There must be a solution. We need peace in this home.” Miss A put on a kettle of water, and Dad and Cheryl walked in a second later.
Cheryl’s body language said it all. Her arms were crossed tightly across her body, and she struggled to make eye contact with me.
I wasn’t about to tell Miss A that Shane and I were going to head into the hills to find Laria’s grave in the hopes of binding her spirit.
Dad kept staring at me and Shane like he expected us to shout “surprise” at any time, and a film crew would walk out and announce he’d been the victim on a hidden camera show.
Miss A poured everyone a cup of tea, and we sat in silence, listening to the ticking of the clock on the wall. I normally didn’t like tea, but Miss A swore by lavender to help calm her nerves.
As the minutes wore on and the lavender tea started kicking in, Dad sat down beside a silent Cheryl.
“Do we know of anyone who could come in and help us?” Dad finally said, breaking the awkward silence.
“You mean like an exorcist?” Shane asked, and Cheryl choked on her tea.
“I may know of someone who can help.” Miss A was vigorously wiping down the counter. “I took the liberty of calling some people this past week. I found a Catholic priest out of Glasgow who comes in and does cleansings, but he’s in London for a few weeks.”
“Tell me he’s discreet,” Dad said under his breath, looking more than a little pissed that Miss Akin hadn’t been forthcoming about what had been happening at the inn while he’d been away.
Shane shook his head, and opened his mouth, but I nudged his foot and he bit his bottom lip.
“He is well respected and comes highly recommended,” Miss A added.
As they talked I knew that Laria and her friends were listening to every word. I would never underestimate the spirit world again. I knew the power they had, that once fear took hold of the victim or victims, that nearly anything was possible.
“Then it’s settled,” Dad said, like all was well. We’ll get this matter cleared up and then hopefully life can get back to normal.”
Get back to normal? What did he consider normal, I wondered.
From the corner of my eye I saw a flash out the window, a light in the distance, and then another and another, like lanterns coming toward us yet again. There were so many, close to a couple dozen, and every single time I blinked it was like they were suddenly ten feet closer, and then another ten feet closer.
“I think it’s best if everyone heads to bed,” Dad said. “It’s been a long day and you have school tomorrow.”
Miss A shifted on her feet. “I need to wash the dishes.”
Cheryl immediately jumped into action and started clearing the dining room table. I met her in there. She watched me pretty closely, and I noticed her hands trembling. Was she actually scared of me? “I’m sorry you’re going through so much.”
“I’m not the only one going through it,” I said, and wished I could take the words back when she blushed.
“Yes, of course.”
When we returned to the kitchen, Dad was rinsing off dishes and handing them to Miss A to put into the dishwasher, and Shane was sweeping the floor.
There was an undercurrent of tension in the room, and I felt so much of it directed at me. I understood the fear. I’d been living with it for weeks now.
Chapter 17
Shane crashed on the floor in my room. He lay on his back, arms folded beneath his head. “Maybe I should just bring my mattress in here.”
“Or we could break through the wall and make it one big bedroom,” I said sarcastically.
He barely cracked a smile. “I’m glad Miss Akin has someone who can help us.”
Honestly, I was up for anything, even if it was a full-on Catholic exorcism. “We still need to bind Laria’s grave, though.”
I needed help…desperately. Tonight, I had wanted to burn myself, and those weren’t my thoughts. Just like my behavior of late. I wasn’t me. I knew that, and I sort of understood now the cases I’d read about for so long about how people had woken up from a dream to find that they’d done some weird, twisted, and sometimes, horrible things. I mean, my brother slept five feet away and I wondered if he was safe doing that. Thank God, I had Anne Marie and my mom, because if I didn’t, I’d feel completely lost.
Shane fell off to sleep almost immediately, his soft snores filling the room.
I read for a while, said a protection prayer, and made an attempt at some relaxation visualization exercises that one of my books talked about, but I still couldn’t sleep.
I rolled over onto my side and faced the door, and in the corner I swore I thought I saw someone standing there.
It wasn’t Laria. It was too tall to be her. Too broad of shoulder.
My thoughts were confirmed when Randall stepped out of the darkness. A scream froze in my throat. There was no color to his eyes. Just the whites of his eyes was all I could see. His hands were out to his sides, facing upward, almost like he was praying to some force.
The sound of footsteps, like someone being dragged across the ceiling caught my attention. I glanced up. I blinked and then Laria was there, directly above me, her arms flung out to her sides, hair hanging down around her, eyes wide open, staring at me.
Shane.
In my mind I had said my brother’s name, but nothing came out.
Laria fell from the ceiling, dropping quickly toward me, and stopped inches from my body. It was like I was paralyzed. I couldn’t move.
A slow smile spread across her face. In her hand she held a razor, and that razor dripped with blood. I glanced down and saw the gashes in my wrists at the same time I heard the cruel laughter. Blood was everywhere, pouring from the wounds onto my comforter, staining it bright red.
I grew more lightheaded by the second.
Laria turned and glanced to my right, and I realized too late that she was looking at Shane, who was still asleep on the floor beside my bed.
I opened my mouth, but when Laria glanced back at me, the scream died in my throat. I hit the headboard, right above where she’d etched the word ‘DIE.’
Shane sat up abruptly. I expected him to see Laria or Randall, but it was obvious from his expression he didn’t see anyone else…or my slashed wrists.
He frowned. “Can’t you sleep?”
I closed my eyes for a few seconds, and when I opened them, Laria and Randall were gone. I glanced down at my wrists. There were no gashes. No blood. My heart thudded against my chest.
I sighed with relief, even as I realized that I was quickly coming undone.
“Riley, what’s wrong?”
“I had a bad dream,” I said, glancing at the clock. It was only just after two a.m., and it would be tough to get back to sleep.
“Maybe you should take one of those pills the doctor prescribed to you. They seemed to work and at least let you sleep.”
As tempting as it was, I didn’t want to be so medicated I couldn’t help myself should the need arise. Plus, I always felt a little groggy the day after taking them. “I’m fine. Go back to sleep.”
“You sure?” he asked, already pulling the comforter tighter around him.
I stayed awake for hours, and the last time I looked at the clock it was after four.
***
I entered the dining room, embarrassed to be late. The food had already been served, the smell reminding me that I had not eaten all day.
The family seemed not to notice my tardiness as they laughed at something Laird MacKinnon had said.
Seeing me, the men stood and waited as I took my seat.
Ian looked incredibly dashing in a white shirt, black breeches and knee-high boots. He had been out riding with his brother most the afternoon and still had a windswept look about him that nearly stole the breath from my lungs.
“Miss Murray, how lovely you look tonight,” he said, his husky voice sending a delightful shiver up my spine.
I felt myself blush and grinned at him. I knew my emotions were there for all to see, and yet I did not care any longer. I loved Ian MacKinnon with all my heart and soul. I wanted to shout my happiness from the rooftops.
From the corner of my eye I saw Laria approach the table. I immediately sobered as she poured ale into Ian’s goblet. Her hand trembled.
Ian took a long drink and set the goblet back down.
Conversation continued, and yet I noticed that something was not right with Ian. He placed a shaky hand on the table and blinked a few times in rapid succession.
Fear raced through me.
“Ian, what’s wrong?” Lady MacKinnon asked, concern on her face as she looked at her son with alarm.
The blood seemed to drain from Ian’s face.
Laird MacKinnon stood slowly. “Son, what is it?”
Duncan shot to his feet, knocking over a chair in his haste to get to his brother. He reached for the goblet, brought it to his nose. “Poison!” he roared, and all eyes turned toward Laria, who ran for the door.
I don’t remember moving, and yet I was running away from the dining room, away from the horrible sight. Away from the panic and the screams that filled my ears.
In my room, I paced, hugging my arms to my body, not sure what to do when a terrible wail filled the castle.
The breath froze in my lungs. I knew what that cry meant.
Lady MacKinnon mourned for her beautiful son.
Chaos ensued.
There was screaming, yelling, and a commotion in the stairwell.
The sounds continued out into the castle courtyard. I watched it all from my bedroom window. Laria was screaming. That bloodcurdling shrill made the hair on my arms stand on end.
The family wanted blood, and they were seeking their own vengeance.