Twisted Sisters (The Orion Circle Book 2) (13 page)

“It didn’t seem pathetic at the time,” Angela says, peeking around my side to peer at the spirits of her long gone friends. “I was young and in love.”

“You were weak and stupid,” the three say as one.

Creepy with a capital ‘C’. They can obviously communicate telepathically. That can’t be good for us.

“I know you’re upset, and I can’t claim to have even the slightest understanding of the horror you endured,” Kacie says, stepping toward the filmy phantoms. “You were hurt in a horrible way, went through so much pain and suffering.”

“What could you possibly know of our suffering?” One of the spirits separates from the group and towers over Kacie, her form fading from silver to a darker gray. Not good.

“It’s me you’re angry at,” Angela says, reaching out a shaking hand toward them. “Don’t take out your anger on her. She’s just trying to help.”

The spirit moves to tower over Angela. When she doesn’t flinch under the spirit’s intangible pressure, my respect for her rises a notch. She raises her chin, staring at the angry energy with a calm expression.

“I was there…” Angela’s voice hitches and she takes a deep breath. “It was my fault. I can never really tell you how sorry I am. I loved him. I trusted him… and I thought he loved me too.”

“How dare—”

Angela cuts the spirit off midsentence. “No, Tracy, please just listen. I have suffered every single day. In and out of institutions, watching the people around me find love, have children, while I couldn’t recover from the bitter betrayal. Jeffrey made himself my world. In hindsight I know he used his mind control experiments to mold me into the perfect accomplice, but at the time, I thought it was passion and undying love. When he… when he used me to… well…”

A dark gray spirit appears beside Angela. “Well, come on. You can say it.”

Angela’s head whips around to look at the new spirit. “Renee! I‌—‌I never wanted—”

“Wanted what, Angela?” Renee draws out Angela’s name in a mocking tone. “Watch Tracy get hacked to bits? Watch Amy gouge her own cheeks in her terror? But lucky you didn’t get to see me destroyed by two cars. You know I lived for a while after. Felt every broken bone, every gash torn in my skin.”

“I watched,” a third spirit says as she materializes on Angela’s other side. For some reason she is still silvery, like the anger hasn’t consumed her as much as the others. “I died somewhere on the way down the stairs. While my spirit hovered over my dead body, I saw Renee run by. I called to her, but she didn’t hear me, so I chased after her. I don’t think I knew I was dead at the time. All I remember is screaming at her to stop. I watched her run toward the street, saw the cars coming from opposite directions. It was so late at night. Why were there two cars out there? It was almost like fate or something. I remember screeching and banging and screaming… then nothing.”

Angela chokes back a sob. “Oh, Amy, I can still see everything like a bright-colored movie in my mind. I thought I was having a bad trip. Jeffrey told me not to move because I might hurt myself. I believed him. We’d been studying the effects of LSD, so I assumed… the idea that it was really happening… seemed impossible, even in my haze. But even then, I couldn’t just sit by and watch. Jeffrey… he… he tied me up. I tried to fight, but he was so strong.”

“I don’t blame you,” Amy’s wavering spirit says. “You were a victim just like us.”

“How can you say that?” Tracy says as her spirit energy darkens. “She brought him here. She did nothing to stop him. She knew he was giving us drugs and didn’t care!”

“I have to let go of the hate.” Amy’s silvery visage dims a bit. “Look at her. She’s suffered her whole life.”

“At least she had a life!” Tracy says, moving to cower over Amy.

“It doesn’t sound like it was much of one.” Amy floats across the room, her form becoming less tangible. “I forgive you, Angela. Try to forgive yourself… Oh my… the light‌—‌it’s so pretty, so warm.” Her spirit energy floats upwards before fading to nothing.

One down, two to go…

Angela lifts her hand as though to wave, then lowers it. “Goodbye, Amy. Please rest in peace.”

“Pathetic.”

“Sheesh, Amy always was a softie.”

I don’t know who said what, but it’s obvious these two won’t move on quite as peacefully as Amy did. A wave of intense energy batters against the shield formed by my aura merged with Kacie’s‌—‌a penetrating heaviness that makes my teeth ache. I’d hate to feel that without a psychic shield.

“Again… how? How do you keep us out?” Tracy asks, her ghostly eyes filled with curiosity rather than anger.

I decide to indulge her curiosity… I’ll take that over rage any day. “Kacie and I are psychically linked. We can merge our auras and form a barrier of sorts.”

Tracy stares at me for a moment, then a large, feral grin spreads across her face, making her look like an evil Cheshire Cat. “Psychically linked… psychically linked.” She taps a finger on her chin. “I bet you have no idea just how devastating that will end up being.”

“What’s so damn funny?” Renee asks as her spirit darkens further. Not good…

“Think about it. What have we learned about psychic energy?”

Tracy giggles, a sound that belongs in a psych ward rather than a sorority house‌—‌then again, maybe not. Her hysterical laughter echoes around us, deafening, mocking. When Renee joins in, I have to keep myself from covering my ears. I won’t let them know how much they bother me.

“Are you going to share your maniacal thoughts or just laugh?” Kacie snaps, her jaw clenched, but her expression bland.

Tracy stops laughing as though someone threw a switch. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

Renee continues to giggle, covering her mouth with an ethereal hand. Interesting… the more they laugh the lighter their spirits become. Both are now the color of mild storm clouds rather than those that create downpours.

“Enlighten us.” My voice is controlled, but my glare is not.

“Ooh, look at the scary, angry boy,” Renee says before bursting into more giggles.

“You two are psychically connected.” Tracy waves her hand in dismissal, like her words explain everything. I hate feeling slow, but I don’t get where they’re leading me.

Renee’s laughter cuts in an instant. “Love is destined to fail, to die. It never lasts. You two will hate each other someday‌—‌probably sooner rather than later.”

Tracy’s smile turns nasty. “When you can no longer stand the mere thought of the other, you’ll still be psychically connected.”

“Love is fleeting, but psychic powers are forever.” Renee finishes with a big flourish of her arms.

“We aren’t in love.” The moment the words leave my mouth, I regret them. What if Kacie feels something more than… whatever this closeness and attraction is.

Kacie shakes her head. She looks thoughtful, her eyes far away. Her nose scrunches up the way it does when she’s working on a puzzle.

“I really like Logan. But…” She pauses, glancing at me. I nod for her to continue. “But… at this point it’s irrelevant anyway. What you’re talking about may or may not happen. If we must be psychically connected forever, then we’ll have to find a way to deal with it. I can’t imagine ever hating him.”

“Stupid, naïve girl,” Tracy says after a snort of laughter.

“Meh, you’re just pissed that your attempt at deflection failed to work,” Daniel says, smirking at the pair. “We’re here to help you move on or banish you to whatever hell evil spirits go to. One or the other. The choice is yours. But I’m getting bored, and I have a date tonight so let’s get this moving.”

Another wave of shadowy energy washes over us, leaving the air crackling in its wake. Daniel may be my best friend, but sometimes he can be a bit tactless when dealing with the distraught‌—‌people or spirits. Before I can try to smooth things over, the spirit energy darkens along with my vision, dragging me into the depths of their combined memories.

Handsome. Angela is so lucky. I wonder if she’ll share. Whatever this new drug is, it’s making me feel… free. Free of inhibitions, of worry, of self. My mind floats on a cloud as I watch the professor cuddle up to Angela. He’s so hot… yet his eyes are cold. A shiver courses through me when his eyes meet mine. Death. I see death in them. Though I try, I’m unable to break eye contact. Please… I struggle to tear my gaze from his as a horrible sense of foreboding washes over me.

Is it the drugs? Maybe a bad trip? I watch detached as the gorgeous professor’s face morphs into something darker… evil. After rummaging through his duffel bag, he pulls out a small bundle, unrolling it with a flourish. Knives. Lots of knives‌—‌all different kinds. He pulls out a hunting knife with a curved, serrated edge. My body freezes as he runs the blade down Amy’s arm in a quick motion. It’s so sharp; I don’t think she felt the pain. Maybe he didn’t really… no, a deep line of crimson forms on her arm, and she lets out a whimper when she sees the blood.

“Now for a little hide and seek,” the nutty professor says as he wipes the knife on a white rag. The blood stains look so stark against the sea of white. I can’t take my eyes from it. “I’ll count to twenty. Hide or I’ll kill you. Now!”

Amy jumps to her feet, an earsplitting scream pouring from her lips. She races from the room while I lurch and stumble to my feet. My head whips from side to side as I try to think of a good place to hide. I run into the hall, colliding with Amy. My head spins. Before I can recover, the professor strolls from the room, slicing arcs through the air with his hunting knife.

“Too slow!” The professor grabs Amy’s arm and swipes the knife down her other arm, giving her matching red stripes.

She wrenches away and falls to the floor, trying to scramble away but slipping on the blood that dripped to the hardwood floor.

“Your turn, little girl.” He turns to me with a psychotic gleam in his eyes. He drops the hunting knife and pulls a long butcher knife from sheath on his belt. “Better to stab you with.”

His maniacal laughter fills the hallway as he lunges for me. I scamper backward but trip over Amy, falling across her prone form. The knife plunges into my thigh. Odd, no pain. All I feel is immense pressure.

“Come on,” Amy shrieks as she pulls me to my feet. “Run!”

“Yes, yes, run, little mice. I do enjoy the chase.”

Amy drops my hand and races away toward the stairs and potential freedom. I reach the spiral staircase just in time to watch her tumble down, her body crashing on each wooden stair. Screams and loud cracking fill the air around me. Then silence. I lean over the rail to see her body lying in a pool of blood. A broken, discarded ragdoll. My mouth opens to scream. Nothing but a quiet, sobbing mewl emerges.

I wrench myself from the vision, trying to force my focus back to the present while not letting the spirits know they got to me. It’s a losing battle. Sometime during the vision, I collapsed. Now I’m lying on the floor, my head resting on Kacie’s lap. Our psychic shield is still in place, but beads of sweat have formed on Kacie’s forehead from the stress of maintaining it. I feel a firm pressure on my chest, like I dropped the weight bar on myself while doing bench presses. The shadows are larger, looming. I don’t think we can hold the shield much longer. It’s time for some drastic measures.

“Are you okay?” Kacie whispers in my ear, her voice shaky, revealing her fear.

“Yeah, but I need to go back.” Even as the words leave my mouth I realize how crazy they sound. I push up from the floor. For some reason I feel more in control standing. Stupid, I know. I’ll probably just collapse again during the vision. But right now… right now I feel the need to appear strong.

“You can’t.” Kacie grips my shoulder, her fingers digging in. “They’re too powerful. You might get… lost.”

Lost. Caught between worlds, realms, planes, whatever. A fate worse than death. Entering a vision is similar to astral projection in that the mind separates from the body for a brief time‌—‌perhaps merging with the energy of the spirit? It’s an unknown. If my mind is torn from my body a coma would result. My body would be whole minus what makes it me. Craptastic.

“No choice,” I say, steeling my shoulders. “I have to know what happened to Renee. Her emotions were wild, but I felt guilt. I think that may be what holds her here. She needs to let go of the guilt.”

“This is a bad idea,” Daniel says, his eyes never leaving the dark shadows looming. “If you have to go, then go… but hurry back.” He steps between me and the ghosts, as though that could make any difference if they decide to attack.

“I won’t be long.” Closing my eyes, I send my psychic power out toward Renee’s dark energy. It’s like an anti-beacon, and my light zeroes in on the darkness. Electricity thrums in the air, raising the hair on the back of my arms. With a jolt I return to the vision.

I start down the stairs, one timid step at a time, my eyes never leaving Amy’s unmoving form. Her neck is bent at an odd angle, her eyes wide and unblinking. Dead. Gone. I back up a couple steps but am stopped by the most anguished wail I’ve ever heard. Deep, keening, such awful torment. Broken words follow the scream, prayers to God for help. My hand clenches the handrail to the point of pain, my fingernails digging into the cold wood.

Another agonized scream reverberates around me, and I take off running. Ignoring Angela’s desperate cries for help, I race down the stairs, tripping over Amy’s sprawled legs. I scramble back to my feet and run from the house, horrible screams chasing me like a wailing banshee. My heart pounds to the point of pain, my breath coming in ragged pants. Bare feet slapping the cold pavement, I race away.

Bright lights blind me, and I realize a moment too late that they are headlights. Brakes screech, such an awful sound combined with my own screams. White-hot pain sears through my body as I hit the pavement and skid. Shouting fills my ears, but it’s strange‌—‌like they’re moving farther away the closer they get. Sound fades away leaving nothing but a hollow ringing in its wake. People gather around me, all staring, unmoving. Why aren’t they helping me? So tired. I close my eyes and pray for the pain to stop.