Read Twisted Sisters (The Orion Circle Book 2) Online

Authors: Kimber Leigh Wheaton

Tags: #Romance, #Paranormal, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Paranormal & Urban, #Ghosts, #Psychics, #Teen & Young Adult

Twisted Sisters (The Orion Circle Book 2) (10 page)

“Wow, just wow,” Raven says, her eyes wide. “Are you sure this isn’t just a conspiracy theory? It seems absurd that the government could use us as test subjects without our consent.”

“The fifties were a different time,” Mr. Kincaid adds. “The cold war, the threat of nuclear annihilation, and the red scare created an air of desperation. The US was anxious to stay one step ahead of the Soviets any way possible. Things were sanctioned that should never have been considered in the first place.”

“Okay, so this professor used a combination of the MKUltra techniques to seduce the girl, then decided to use her to help him run some sick experiment at the sorority house?” Kacie’s body stiffens beside me as she speaks. Her hand clutches my arm. “How could someone be so… so…” Her voice trembles, and I pull her tight enough to send a sharp pain shooting through my side.

Raven finishes Kacie’s sentence. “Despicable? Contemptible?”

“You know, I originally managed to get by on the assumption that the girl he seduced was weak.” Rebecca’s voice is soft, forlorn. “But she was just like me. I-I figured out who she was based on sorority photos, school records, and court records‌—‌illegally obtained.” She glances at Mr. Kincaid. “Sorry.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear it,” he replies, his mouth set in a grim line.

“Anyway, her name was, or rather is, Angela Baxter. She was an honor student, top in her class, pre-med, active in both high school and college. When she met Professor Rosenthal, she was a sophomore…” Rebecca trails off, staring at her laptop like it might hold the answer she seeks. “It makes no sense. Why would a smart girl like that fall for tricks and seduction? We‌—‌I mean she‌—‌should have known better.”

“Wait a minute,” Raven says, a look of shock on her face. “This woman is still alive?”

“Yeah, she was placed in a psych ward for ten years after she testified at the trial,” Rebecca says, twirling a strand of brown hair around her finger. “When she was released, she never married, had kids or a career. Just a string of odd jobs. Her life was ruined… she was destroyed.”

“What happened to the loony professor?” Blake asks, poking at Rebecca with his foot.

Her head snaps up, and she glares at him. At least that’s better than her earlier despair. “He was found guilty on three counts of murder one, along with drug charges and kidnapping. He was executed by lethal injection in 1983.”

“That answers one question,” I say, breaking a long silence. “We know why the spirits are so angry. But why are they so powerful?”

“I have a theory on that as well,” Rebecca replies, snapping her laptop closed. “In 1998 the Orion Circle did a cleansing of the place. According to the file, they were unable to convince the spirits to move on and had to force them out. After three blessings and several smudgings, the activity ceased. But that was just your ordinary sentient haunting: footsteps, voices, things moving around. They did manifest at times and scare the crap out of the residents, but nothing like what they’re doing now.”

Kacie clears her throat. “The spirit board brought them back. But from where?”

“Purgatory? Limbo?” Rebecca pauses, her forehead furrowed in thought. “Like I said before, I think they go somewhere in between. Someplace where they have nothing to do but plot their return.”

“So, Logan was right. We can’t force them out or they could return again even stronger,” Raven says with a visible shiver.

“We need to cross them somehow,” Kacie says in a small voice. “Cross three nasty, powerful spirits.”

“That’s your specialty, Cici.” Daniel glances at her with a sympathetic look. “Any ideas?”

“Actually, yes, I have a good one.”

Chapter Thirteen — Lesser of Evils

Chapter Thirteen

Lesser of Evils

Kacie

Snaking my hand across the backseat, I grab Logan’s hand, lacing our fingers together. He squeezes my hand, and I glance up at him, losing myself in his eyes. But the moment passes quickly. His grin fades at my grim expression. When he opens his mouth to speak, I shake my head. I don’t want to talk about this madness now. After all, this field trip was my idea. How can I possibly walk up to a sixty-year-old woman and ask her to relive the event that ruined her life.

It’s not fair.

Life isn’t fair.
I can hear Dad’s words in my mind clear as day. It was his answer to my preteen-angst tantrums. It didn’t take long for me to stop saying those words. As if sensing my thoughts, my phone vibrates. A text from Dad.

Have you decided?

I pull my hand from Logan’s with a pang of regret.
No.
I text back, hoping he’ll let it go. No such luck.

It’s only a few days. Try.

Damn. I can’t deal with this right now… not with three angry ghosts who relish using our inner turmoil against us.

“What is it?” Logan asks, resting his hand on my thigh. His fingers play with the new hole formed from my skid across the pavement this morning.

“He wants me to make a decision about
her
.”

I don’t elaborate. Logan knows my estranged mother wants to come visit for a weekend. She bolted, left me behind without a word or a glance, unable to deal with my abilities. It’s only been two months since I discovered she had powers of her own. Sure her vision gave Logan the info he needed to save us from the Foxblood Demon. And, yeah, she apologized for leaving. But still…

“I don’t know if I want to see her… you know, let her in again.” My tone is soft, timid, the hurt plain in each syllable.

My phone vibrates again, this time a call. Logan gently takes the phone from my tight grasp.

“Hi, Mr. Ramsey,” he says. It’s so quiet in the car, I can hear my dad’s voice but can’t make out the words. “We’re on our way to interview a client in a rather emotionally-charged case. Would it be okay to discuss this issue with Kacie tonight?”

I glance over at Logan, a smile tugging at my lips despite my foul mood. He always sounds so formal when dealing with my father. It’s rather amusing. Dad talks for a minute or two‌—‌a long time for a yes.

“I’ll talk to her, sir,” Logan says, nodding his head. “Thanks.” He hands the phone back, and I lay it down on the seat between us.

“Talk to me about what?” I ask, already aware of the answer.

“What else? Your mother of course.” He takes my hand, squeezing it tight. “I’ll be there with you, so will my mom. I think you might regret it if you don’t at least try.”

“Maybe,” I reply, cringing at my lost, pathetic tone. The fact that my mother makes me feel like this is reason enough to avoid her. And yet… “Maybe you’re right. I’ll talk to Dad tonight. But, I need to put my problems aside right now and focus on the case.”

“Good idea,” Rebecca says from the front seat. So that’s why she and Daniel were so quiet. They were listening to every word. “The whole Circle will be there for you, Kacie. We’ll be your support when you deal with your deadbeat mom. Ms. Baxter will have no one but us… at least according to my research. Her parents are dead, she was an only child… she never married or had any kids of her own. How lonely…”

“Do you have a plan, Cici?” Daniel asks. Our eyes meet in the rearview mirror.

I shake my head. “Time is short. I’m going all in with the truth.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Rebecca asks, glancing over her shoulder. She and Logan exchange a look I can’t decipher. “She might not believe in ghosts. And even if she does, this story is… well… rather fantastic.”

“We’ll have to make her believe,” I say, refusing to back down. “Logan has a way of convincing people. We’ll let him take the lead. After all, he did convince my dad to open his mind.”

“I don’t know whether to thank you or not.” Logan caresses the back of my hand with his thumb. “This isn’t something I’m looking forward to.”

“All we can do is try.” Raising our joined hands, I place a tender kiss on his fingers.

“Yeah, let’s hope for the best,” Rebecca agrees. Her head flops against the headrest. “Okay, quick brief before we arrive. Ms. Baxter is sixty-three. She’s been in and out of psych hospitals since the event. When her parents died, she came into a ton of money and moved into a retirement community. It’s been over ten years since her last hospitalization. I’m afraid we’re going to send her right back to the loony bin.”

“Or we could provide the closure she needs to move on with life,” Logan says. “I think she’s been lonely and confused… not to mention scared her entire life. Maybe confronting these spirits will help her find peace.”

“See, I told you he’s good,” I say, unable to contain my grin.

Rebecca laughs. “Yeah, yeah, he could sell brimstone to a demon.”

“I’m fuzzy on the details,” Daniel says over Rebecca’s laughter. “I don’t want foot in mouth disease, so give me the quick version of events.”

“Foot in mouth disease?” Rebecca asks, biting her lip. “Where did you pick that up?”

“From Mr. Kincaid.” Daniel glares at Rebecca. “He says I have a tendency to suffer from it.”

“True.” I pat Daniel’s shoulder. “But we love you anyway.”

“I don’t know how much Ms. Baxter actually remembers from that night. Hopefully not much…” Rebecca trails off and stares out the passenger window. “It must have been awful, terrifying, surreal.” She leans her forehead against the glass. “Ever since Logan called me, and I started researching this… this… hell, I don’t even know what to call it.”

“Massacre,” Daniel murmurs.

“Yeah, basically. From what I gathered, Ms. Baxter was dosed with LSD that night, so it was probably more of a nightmare than reality.” She releases a heavy sigh. “No, more like a nightmare come to life. It would be bad enough to witness the torture and murder of your three best friends, but to be under the effects of LSD… I just can’t imagine. She was at the trial, even called as a witness, but she didn’t make it through the entire trial.”

“Why?” Logan asks.

“She broke down, complete mental disassociation. I guess hearing what actually happened from the prosecution was just too much for her. Didn’t matter though, it was basically an open and shut case.”

“So how do we keep her from breaking again?” Logan asks as he drums nervous fingers on the armrest.

“We can’t,” I say in a whisper. “All we can do is hope she wants to help her friends enough that it keeps her from falling apart.”

Daniel bangs his hand on the steering wheel. “This sucks!”

“No shit,” Rebecca agrees.

Chapter Fourteen — Angela

Chapter Fourteen

Angela

Logan

My finger hovers over the doorbell, refusing to move the extra inch or so needed to push the button. This poor woman has probably spent her whole life recovering from that one traumatic time. Where the hell do I get off coming here to dredge it all back up? Kacie’s fingers close around mine, and she leans into my back.

“Ms. Baxter needs closure too,” she whispers. “I know this will be hard for her, but what choice do we have. She is part of this whether she wants to be or not.”

Kacie’s words firm my resolve, and I poke the doorbell‌—‌probably a bit harder than necessary. Seconds pass. It’s a small apartment in a retirement community… it shouldn’t take this long for the woman to answer the door. Just as I’m hoping she isn’t home, I hear shuffling on the other side of the door. It flies open, revealing a woman who looks as though she wears every one of her sixty-three years on her face. Deep lines surround dark, hardened eyes that glare at us. Her hair falls to her shoulders in a mass of messy, out of control, silver curls. Twin gray-and-black spotted cats swirl around her bare legs sticking out from beneath a garish floral muumuu. I blink a few times. She looks like the epitome of the crazy cat lady.

“I’m not buying whatever it is you’re selling,” she says before closing the door.

“Wait, please,” Rebecca says, placing her hand on the door to stop it mid-swing. “Are you Ms. Baxter?”

“What’s it to you?” the woman asks, her eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“Please, ma’am, we need to talk to you,” I say in a soft, gentle tone, like I’m talking to a skittish dog. Before I can continue, both cats cross the threshold to wind their tails around my legs, while brushing their faces against my jeans.

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