The Haunting of Blackwood House (19 page)

Neil’s cheek was warm on her forehead. He was silent for a moment then said, “Does it negate what they did to you?”

Don’t cry
. Mara swallowed the emotion as well as she could, but she was ashamed to feel it creep into her voice. “They weren’t bad parents. They did some stuff that hurt me. But not deliberately. Like the rabbit they killed—do you remember me telling you about that?”

Neil nodded.

“It was sick anyway. Dad asked for spiritual guidance and said he was told it was suffering. We couldn’t afford a vet, so he drowned it. I loved that rabbit. At the time, I felt like he was a murderer. But he wasn’t trying to be cruel. He never was.”

“They kept you from having friends.” Neil’s voice was gentle, but there was a hint of bite at the back of it.
Does he actually resent my parents for that?
The thought simultaneously warmed Mara and made the guilt swell. She dropped her head.

“That wasn’t their fault. They tried to organise play dates, but the other parents wouldn’t let their kids visit.”
Don’t cry. Don’t you dare.
“Mum threw me a birthday party once. She invited every kid in the suburb. Not a single one came. B-but she still t-tried to make it fun. J-just Mum, Dad, and me. We p-played all the games and—balloons everywhere—and—had cake—” Mara pressed her palms to her eyelids. The effort of holding her tears in was constricting her throat. “Y-you should have heard the way Mum cried when I left home. And I cut them off for four years b-because I was a narrow-minded, self-righteous, arrogant little—”

“Stop that.” Neil pulled her close. He cradled her against his chest and stroked her hair until she calmed. Once her breathing had steadied, he said, “Maybe they’re not monsters. They’re probably not blameless, either. Mistakes make us human; don’t torture yourself over a choice you made four years ago. If you think you were wrong, make a plan to change what you can. Action is good. Choices are good. But guilt on its own never fixed anyone’s problem.”

“You’re wasted as a carpenter,” Mara mumbled into his shirt. “You need to get yourself a motivational show like Oprah. Fix the world’s problems.”

The attic’s trapdoor slammed. Mara twitched, and Neil tightened his grip on her. “That’ll be the mediums, right?”

“Yeah.” She wiped her eyes with her sleeve. She hoped they weren’t too red. “Where’d you find them, by the way?”

Neil got to his feet and carefully pulled her up with him. “I called my pastor, actually. He said he couldn’t help, but he suggested Spirited Encounters. Though I’m starting to suspect he just did an internet search for ‘mediums for hire.’ I got the feeling haunted houses aren’t something he has to deal with often… or at all.”

Two figures appeared at the top of the stairs. Mara was relieved to see that both Damian and Erica seemed calm. The sage couldn’t have been necessary after all. “Oh, hey, Neil!” Erica clattered down the stairs. “When’d you get here?”

“A few minutes ago.” The serious note had returned to his voice. “And I found my girl hanging from the stairs. Where were you both? She could have died.”

Erica shoved past him, oblivious to his disapproval. “Wait, back up. What happened?”

Mara felt herself turning red. “It looks like you were right—Robert Kant doesn’t want to be dispelled. He, uh, tried to hang me.”

Damian moved closer to Neil. He spoke too quietly for Mara to hear. Before she could join the conversation, Erica clasped her shoulders, eyes wide and voice breathless. “That’s so cool. Did he say anything? What did he look like?”

“Erica, have some tact,” Damian said before turning back to Neil.

“Sorry.” Erica didn’t sound like she meant it. “Did he give you any clues? The ghost in the attic was a bust.”

“He just said ‘surprise, sweetheart’ then told me to scream. Which I couldn’t.” Mara rubbed her neck, which she suspected would be bruised the following morning. “I didn’t see him. What do you mean about the attic ghost? I heard his footsteps. Didn’t he know anything?”

“I couldn’t even talk to him.” Erica deflated like a balloon. “I could hear the footsteps—even see the boards move and little puffs of dust come up—but I couldn’t see anyone. I asked questions, but he either didn’t hear or didn’t answer. We waited for ages after the footsteps stopped, but he didn’t come back. So, we’re back to square one.”

Mara glanced at the rope, which still hung from the bannister.
What’re the chances that’s the same rope Robert hung himself with? Neil cut it easily, which means it’s probably old. I bet that would have amazing spiritual energy.
She cringed.
Crap, I’m even starting to think like them. Goodbye, self-respect.
“Would the rope be any good?”

“Huh.” Erica approached the dangling cord, circled it, then brushed her finger over the noose section. She closed her eyes then pulled back with a shiver. “Yeah, this has a man’s energy all over it. I’m pretty sure it’s the right time period, too. Good work, Mara!”

Mara rubbed her neck again. “Thanks… I guess?” She turned back to Neil and Damian, but they were deep in discussion. Their faces were both stern, and Neil kept shooting looks at her. Damian had his arms crossed and was working his index finger over his thumbnail in what looked like an anxious habit. Mara wished she could hear what they were saying.

“You ready for some ghost busting?” Erica was turning in a circle as she surveyed the room. “It’s a good space for it, too. Nice and airy—” She broke off as Damian, finally finished talking to Neil, approached her and nudged her arm.

“A word?” he asked his partner.

Damian drew Erica away and began talking to her in tones that were a little too quiet to hear. Mara turned back to Neil, who had moved to stand next to her. He looked tense. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine. Erica thinks she can use the rope to summon… unsummon… extract… whatever she plans to do to Robert.”

Neil tugged on her hand to draw her away from the others so they could speak in privacy. “I was just talking to Damascus—”

“His real name’s Damian.”

Neil gave her a tight smile. “Trust you to get the truth out of them. Well, I was talking to Damian. He wants to call it off.”

From across the room, Erica half gasped, half yelled, “
What? No!
” Damian said something quickly, and Erica lowered her voice. They began a hushed but heated debate.

Mara turned back to Neil. “How come?”

“He thinks it’s too dangerous. He said he’s happy to work on passive spirits but the energy here is too high to risk playing with malevolent ones.”

“And Robert’s definitely malevolent.” Mara sucked on her teeth. She tried to repress the panicky sensation that was chewing up her stomach
. I have everything invested in Blackwood. I can’t sell it, but I can’t live in it, either.

Neil’s hands brushed up the sides of her arms, and Mara relaxed into the touch. “I told him how important Blackwood is to you.” Neil’s voice was gentle and warm. Mara stepped closer to absorb more of it. The tangles in her stomach unravelled when he spoke like that. “He’s sympathetic, but he doesn’t think it’s worth the risk. He said maybe if you took a few years away from it and let the energy subside, it might be safe to try again.”

A few years!
Mara pressed her eyes closed.
No, don’t act like a mule. Be grateful for what you have.
“I’ll need a place to stay. I dunno if your offer is still open, or…”

“You’re always welcome in my home.” Neil spoke gently. “I’ll talk to Mum. Maybe we can put the religious stuff into storage…”

“Thanks.” Mara had been creeping closer to him and was near enough to lean her forehead against his chest. His heart—a steady, even tempo—was soothing. He wrapped his arms around her back and rocked her gently.

“I’m sorry. I know how much this house meant to you.”

“I’m not dead,” she said, partly to remind herself. “I’ve got an amazing boyfriend who, against all odds, doesn’t hate me. I have a house to stay in even if it’s not my first choice.” She inhaled his scent and smiled. “And money’s just paper you exchange for stuff. I can get more of it.”

“I love you, Mara,” Neil whispered into her hair.

“Shut up!” Erica shrieked from across the room. Mara turned towards the commotion. Evidently, the mediums’ discussion hadn’t gone as smoothly as hers. “You are such a jerk, Dame. This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance!”

Damian bent low to murmur something then drew back with a hiss as Erica stomped on his foot.

“Years? I’m not waiting years!
Mara
!”

Mara impulsively leaned away from the fuming woman. “…hi?”

Erica stormed forward, grabbed Mara’s wrist, and attempted to drag her away from Neil. “Looks like it’s just you and me tonight. Ready to do this thing?”

“Slow down!” Neil attempted to pry Erica’s hand off Mara’s. “You’ll hurt her!”

“Erica.” Damian, coat whipping behind him, rushed in to block his companion’s path. “You can’t do this alone.”

“I’m not alone,” she spat. “I have my best friend, Mara, who, incidentally, is way cooler than you.”

“… best friend?” Mara blinked and shook her head. “Lady, I wouldn’t even call you an acquaintance.”

“Shut up, I’m trying to do you a solid here.” Erica glowered at Damian. “This is private property, and I’ve been hired to do a seance, so you can either stick around and help or buzz off.”

Damian’s eyebrows rose, but he didn’t speak.

The grip on Mara’s wrist was hard enough to hurt. She tried to worm her hand free. “Calm down, Erica. If it’s dangerous—”

“Nothing important was ever achieved by playing safe,” Erica said. Mara opened her mouth to question that logic but found herself fixated by Erica’s gaze. The woman’s eyes were wide. “C’mon, I
need
Blackwood. Its energy is so high that I’m sure I’d have no trouble dispelling Kant.” She turned back to Damian. “You said I needed real-world practice. This is the best I’m going to get! And after the last place—I don’t want to be zero-for-two. Please.”

He sighed and dropped his head. When he spoke, the tone was low and cautious. “Mara, how important is this building to you?”

“Uh…” Mara turned her eyes towards the ceiling. She felt such a complicated mix of emotions that she couldn’t easily untangle them. There was a sting of betrayal; the house she’d trusted—the house she’d loved—had turned against her. But there was also fondness. She’d repaired its walls. She’d scrubbed its floors. She’d fallen in love with the building, and saying goodbye would feel like ripping a vital part out of her chest.

Then she looked at Neil. His brow was creased, and his beautiful blue eyes anxious. She took a deep breath. “I really, really, really like the house. But I don’t want anything to do with it if it’s going to put the people I love in danger.”

She felt as though she could survive a year on a desert island with nothing except the smile Neil gave her.

“No, come on,” Erica whined. “You’re meant to be on my side!”

Damian looked relieved. “She’s the boss. Come on; let’s pack up.”

“Hang on.” To Mara’s surprise, Neil stepped forward, a hand held up. “Damian, how dangerous would an attempt be?”

Damian glanced at Mara before returning his gaze to Neil. “Mara’s the biggest wild card. If she becomes panicked, the burst of energy could push a malevolent spirit into doing some truly horrific things.”

“Could she leave the house?”

“Ironically, it would help to have her present. A gentle, sustained radiation of her energy would fuel Erica’s work.”

“Okay.” Neil crossed his arms and looked the room over. “If she stayed calm, could we try it?”

Damian let his breath out in a rush but didn’t answer.

“I’ll pay extra,” Neil added, but the other man shook his head.

“Don’t worry about the money. If she can stay calm—and if we take precautions—and if you understand there are no guarantees—”

Neil took Mara’s hand. “Do you think you could stay calm? If I was with you the whole time?”

“Yes.” Mara had never known safety like being close to Neil.

“Yes?” Erica, who had been following the exchange as though she were a starving woman and their words were food, edged closer to Damian. “Yes?”

He sighed. “All right; let’s do it. But—” He held up a hand to quieten Erica’s cheer. “
But
we’re not taking any risks. If things start to fall apart, or if I judge the situation is becoming too risky, we bail immediately. Deal?”

“Deal.” Erica raced towards the living room. “I’ll get my stuff!”

“Hey, don’t split up!” Damian barked as he ran after her.

Mara watched them go then turned back to Neil. “Do you really want to do this?”

“I want you to be happy.” He wrapped a hand around the back of her head and kissed her before she knew what was happening. Mara’s heart did a happy little flop in her chest. “And this house is important to you, so I want you to have it if that’s possible. I think that’s worth a little risk.”

Mara stretched up on her toes to reach Neil’s lips again. He was so tall that he still needed to duck to meet her halfway. She poured all of the love and warmth she felt into that kiss and felt giddy as he shuddered. When she pulled back, she was breathing quickly. “I don’t need this house.” She ran her thumb along Neil’s jaw. “But I do need you. We don’t have to go through with this if—”

“Gangway!” Erica yelled as she barrelled between them, arms full of equipment.

Be calm
, Mara told herself as Neil chuckled. She squeezed her eyes closed, took a deep breath, then stretched and turned towards Erica with renewed enthusiasm. “All right. What’re we doing here? Is it a seance, or…?”

“Think of it like a seance with a twist.” Erica dropped her collection of trinkets into the centre of the foyer. “We’re going to attempt to summon Robert Kant’s ghost and then dissipate him. Remember, he’s nothing but energy. So, we’re going to set stuff up to attract that energy, untether it from the house, and disperse it. If he’s no longer concentrated in one form in one place, he’ll literally cease to exist. Hey, Dame, could you grab that rope?”

Neil passed his pocketknife to Damian, who climbed the stairs to cut the noose free from the bannister.

Erica opened a packet of chalk, took a fresh stick out, and began scrawling symbols onto the floor. “The muk for protection. The aejis to call Robert to us. The vesp to enhance my power. And, most importantly, the quinet to disperse Robert.” She drew each symbol multiple times except for the last, which she created only once, larger than the others and directly ahead of herself. She then drew a circle around the marks. “The muk and vesp will be active constantly,” she said in answer to Mara’s silent question. “We’ll activate the aejis by concentrating on Robert’s rope. The quinet, our ace, will only be used once we have him close and contained.”

“How important is it that the shapes are correct?” Mara asked, glancing between two muks, one of which was slightly distorted.

“Not really at all.” Erica turned pink. “Technically, I should be able to do all of this with just my mind. But I’m, uh, still getting used to real-world application, and the symbols give me something to focus on.”

Still getting used to real-world application. That’s a pretty way of saying you need practice.
Mara bit back the comment as Damian laid the rope on top of the quinet symbol.

“Got the sage?” Erica asked, and he held up a bunch of the herb and a lighter.

Mara could still feel her own bundle of leaves in her jeans pocket. “What’s it for?”

“Burning sage is traditionally used to dispel spirits. It’s not going to be enough to completely purge one as strong as Robert, but it should weaken him if things start getting hairy.” Erica began laying new items around the border of the circle: a locket, the cat’s skull, a black-and-white photograph, an aged, folded letter, and a cracked teacup.

“Mara, sit just outside the circle.” Damian directed her to a space beside Erica. “Neil, stay close to her.”

Mara settled into her indicated place, being careful not to touch the chalk outline. Neil knelt beside her, and she leaned against him. An anxious, jittery sensation was growing in her stomach, and it was proving hard to dampen. “Do you ever do these sorts of rituals yourself?” she asked Damian.

He grinned and shook his head. “No, I’m about as spiritually talented as a rock. I keep an eye on Erica, make sure she’s not in danger, and read all of the books she refuses to because they’re, and I quote, dead boring.”

Mara nodded. “Do I need to do anything—?”

“Not at all. Sit there, stay calm, and Erica will use your energy as she needs it. Remember”—he looked at Erica pointedly—“this is the equivalent of trying to fight fire by pouring a barrel of fuel on it. It could go wrong very quickly. If I give the word, we’re all bolting for the door. I don’t need any heroic ‘I can handle it’ moments tonight. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” they all chimed.

Damian nodded. “All right. When you’re ready, Erica. Take it slow.”