Wraiths of Winter (The Haunting Ruby Series Book 3) (13 page)

I swallowed the last of my cappuccino and tossed my
cup into the garbage. “I love Zach and that’s all that matters.”
I delivered the line with an air of finality
that Rachel
respected.

“Okay,” she said flinging her empty cup as well. “Well,
I guess our next stop is the Bantam.

The Bantam. Just the name alone made me want to
run away screaming in the opposite direction. The only thing
that kept me from doing just that was the hope that we might
still be able to help Crimson. Time spent searching for her
meant less time searching my own heart for the solution to
the Zach/Lucas situation. I knew I couldn’t let it drag on
forever but I seriously needed some time to figure out what
exactly it was that I was feeling.

Rachel drove a little slower than usual across town
and I was grateful for it. I wasn’t sure if we would find Allison
in that creepy old theater but I was pretty sure I would find
something. That building gave off an eerie vibe even from the
outside—how awful would that aura be once we were within
its walls? Speaking of which, exactly what was our plan for
getting inside anyway?
One breaking and entering offense
was enough for me—this time we would have to come up
with a better plan. We talked about it on the way there but
when the theater was in sight, we were no closer to an actual
strategy than when we started out.

Rachel, with her eagle eyes, spotted it first. “Look,”
she pointed to the front door of the theater, “we’re not going
to need a plan after all.” Hanging on the door was a neon pink
flier.
Be a part of Charlotte’s Grove history

with the grand reopening of the Bantam Theater.

 

Coming soon: The Phantom Affair

 

A contemporary non-musical adaptation of

 

The Phantom of the Opera

 

Featuring off Broadway director

 

Jonas Mazzerati

 

Auditions to be held December 17
th
at 6:00 pm

 

Seeking actors ages 16-24

 

“That’s this Friday, too!” Rachel exclaimed. “Clear
your calendar, Ruby, we have ourselves an audition!”

Wait.
Did she actually expect me to get up on that
stage and try to get myself a role in this production? She had
to be insane! Certifiably freakin’ insane.

“Whoa, I’m a ghost hunter not an actress. We can just
come in to watch the auditions while I see if I can pick up on
anything paranormal.”

“But what if you do find something? We can’t just
come back and watch every rehearsal you know. We’ll have
to be involved in the play in some way, shape, or form. If we
got parts, we’d be guaranteed front row seats to the
haunting.”

Just what I always longed for—front row seats to the
scariest show on earth. “Fine—you can get a role and I’ll just
come watch you. There’s no way on earth I’ll ever get on that
stage.”

“You could volunteer to be a stagehand or something,”
Rachel offered.

Why was she so hard to say no to? I backed down and
suggested a compromise. “If I find anything ghostly when
we’re here, I will. If not, you’re on your own. Deal?”

“Deal!” she squealed back at me. “You know how
much I’ve always wanted to be an actress! This will give me
some
experience
before
the
murder
mystery
bed
and
breakfast gets under way.”

Suddenly, Rachel didn’t seem so frightened of the
theater any more. Too bad I couldn’t say the same thing. As
we got back in the car to head home, I thought I noticed
movement in the tower again just like the last time. But the
same as before, it was gone before I was even sure it was
there at all.

10. Snow Business Like Show
Business

Working, ghost hunting and fighting with Zach made
for a long weekend so by the time I got home, I was ready to
climb into bed. I made myself a cup of hot chocolate with tons
of extra
marshmallows
and
propped myself up
with
my
pillows to read until I got sleepy. I knew enough not to read
anything scary before bed so I picked out a romance novel
and
settled
in.
Romance
novels
never
gave
anyone
nightmares before—why would they start now? About fifty
pages in, I drifted off to sleep without even turning out the
lights.

The dream started out harmless enough. I was in a
church walking down the aisle on my father’s arm. White
gown?
Check?
Rachel and Chloe dressed in the most godawful bridesmaid dresses? Check. Zach waiting for me at the
altar?
Double check!
Cut the slow ass wedding march—I
wanted to chuck my bouquet and run to the front to be with
him.

One by one, my father and I passed each pew as the
guests turned to watch our procession. Half of the faces were
unfamiliar but there was one recognizable face in each row.
Lucas seemed to be seated in every one of them staring back
at me through that weird half mask thingy
the Phantom
always wore. How was that possible?
How could he be in so
many places at once?

Never mind. I was marrying the boy of my dreams so
nothing else mattered.
Despite the tempo of the music, I
stepped it up a little bit. The sooner I got to Zach, the sooner
this would be all over and Lucas’s presence would be
meaningless. But with each step closer to Zach, the lights in
the church began to dim. Despite the darkness, things started
to become clearer.

We weren’t in a church after all. We were in the
Bantam Theater. Zach wasn’t standing at the altar—he was
waiting for me on stage. The man walking me down the aisle
wasn’t my father, just a shadowy stranger without a face. I
decided to make a run for it but his grip on my arm became
iron tight. There was no way out. What once felt sacred was
now a mere mockery.

The shadowy man pushed me roughly up the stairs to
the stage and I fell into Zach’s arms. When I steadied myself
enough to stand on my own, I pulled back from him to find
that his white shirt was now stained with fresh blood.
I
looked down to find a gory trail of it dripping down the front
of my dress as well.
My head was spinning, my stomach
churning. I had to grab Zach and get us both out of there.

A pair of large hands yanked me into position across
from
Zach and
a booming
voice cut through the
silence.
Those hands, that voice belonged to Drake Sterling.

“Do you, Zach, take this woman to be your wife?”
Drake shouted enthusiastically.
He was dressed as a priest
only backwards—a white robe with a black collar.

“I do,” Zach replied sarcastically.

“And do you, Ruby, take this man to be your
husband?” Drake’s voice grew louder and more menacing as
he spoke.

I tried to respond but an unintelligible noise came out
instead of my intended words.
And a warm stream of liquid
poured over my lips.
One more time, I tried to answer his
question but with the same results. What was happening to
me?

I reached inside my mouth, fearful of what I would
find in there. Instead, I was horrified by what I
didn’t
find. My
tongue was nothing but a bloody stump protruding from the
bottom of my mouth, blood pouring from the fresh cut.

Oh my!
Who did this to me?
My hands started to
shake violently and when Zach grabbed them I thought he
was trying to calm me.
Instead, he ripped the rose shaped
promise ring off of my finger.

“With this ring, I thee wed,” he whispered to me
threateningly and forced something onto my finger in its
place.

The skin of my finger ripped from the nail all the way
down to my knuckle. The ring now gracing my finger was a
twisted metal replica of a rose with barbed wire thorns. Zach
forced my hand into a fist, driving the metal razors deep into
my palm.

“Forever,” he announced and the throng of guests
seated in the theater chanted back.

 

“Forever.” “Forever.” “Forever.”

The first thing I did when I woke up was check my
finger. Whew. No blood, barbed wire, or shredded flesh—the
promise ring Zach gave me was still in place, gleaming up at
me innocuously. Just to be safe, I stuck my tongue out at my
reflection in the mirror. Perfect working order. It was a just a
dream—disturbing and disgusting—but still just a dream.

Zach was extra quiet on the ride to school. Warm and
friendly, yet unusually subdued. I could see that he wasn’t
still mad at me so I filled him in on my evening of ghost
hunting with Rachel.

“The Bantam Theater, huh? Am I dating a soon to be
actress now?”

“Who? Me? Nah, that’s Rachel’s gig—not mine. No
one on this earth could convince me to get up in front of a
crowd like that—not even you. If we find Allison there, I’ll
sign up to help as a stage hand or something if I have to.”

Zach nodded his head and kept driving. He pulled into
the school lot and took his usual parking space. “Before you
get out, I want to tell you
again
how sorry
I am
about
Saturday night.
Sorry for arguing, sorry for taking you on
such a wretched date, sorry for accusing you of—”

“It’s okay, Zach,” I interrupted. I didn’t want to even
hear him say the words again. “I forgive you—let’s just not
talk about it anymore, okay?”

“Okay, just let me know what time you’re leaving with
Lucas.” His voice caught in his throat as he uttered his name.

“I will—don’t worry about it, about us. I love you,
Zach.” I gave him a kiss but noticed a split
second of
hesitation on his part. No, it had to be my imagination. He
kissed me with the usual enthusiasm so I had to be wrong.

“I love you, too, Ruby,” he replied the same as he
always did.

Just my
imagination.
The
dream
had to
still
be
messing
with
my
head, with
my
perception of reality.
Definitely just my imagination.

Lucas flung his lunch tray onto the table and took the
seat beside me instead of across from me like usual. I looked
around the cafeteria to see if anyone was watching. No one.
He wasn’t sitting close to me but I was still aware that it could
be misconstrued by the wrong people. And by wrong people,
I mean anyone other than me.

“So how did your date go?”

Were there jealous undertones to his question?
It
sure seemed like there were. Why did everything seem so off
kilter today?
Seriously, was one normal day too much to ask
for?

I couldn’t tell Lucas that my date with Zach failed on
an epic scale. Besides, it really wasn’t any of his business. I
put on my brightest smile and lied like I’d never lied before.

“It was great—every date with Zach is.” Usually. I
took a large bite of my pizza so I would have time to formulate
another lie in case he asked for details.

He gave me an odd look but didn’t press the issue. “I
want to leave around noon on Saturday. Are you still coming
with me?”

I swallowed my mouthful and took a drink of juice to
wash it down. “Yes. What time do you think we’ll be back?”

“Why? Do you have plans that night with your
boyfriend?” Lucas tossed his half eaten piece of pizza down
onto his plate. “If you don’t really want to help me find my
parents, just say so now. I’d hate to waste your time.”

God—he was sooo sensitive! And boys said girls were
too emotional! What was he going to do next—stomp his foot
and stick out his bottom lip?
I needed to make Lucas and
Zach each go to separate corners for time out. But I couldn’t
do it here. I simply couldn’t let any of my current drama find
its way into Misty’s ears.

“Of course I still want to help you.
I was
just
wondering how late you thought we’d be out—I do still have
to work on Sunday morning, you know.”

“Oh.” Now that his hissy fit was over, the pizza found
its way back into his mouth. “I don’t know,” he said between
bites, “Not too late I don’t think. Are you sure this is about
work and not your boyfriend? He seems to have some serious
jealousy issues.”

“He does not!” I snapped at him. He
used
to but that
was none of Lucas’s business. “And he has a name, by the
way.
Zach
,” I said, emphasizing his name to prove my point,
“is perfectly okay with me spending time with you. He knows
I love him and he knows that nothing will ever come between
us.”

Lucas stood up and snatched his empty tray from the
table. “He may be certain but are you?” He plucked a potato
chip from my plate, popped it into his mouth and walked
away with a smug smile.

Grrr!
What was
that
supposed to mean? Why was
he
so certain that
I
wasn’t? This trip to Pittsburgh was going to
be disastrous—I could just feel it.

Christmas cheer was in the air everywhere I went. It
made me want to barf. Growing up, Christmas was never a
big deal in our house. It wasn’t like my dad and I didn’t
celebrate the holiday because we did. Just not excessively the
way
Shelly and
every
single person in Charlotte’s Grove
seemed to. Dad and I were content with a small artificial tree
and maybe a wreath or two. The closer we got to that infernal
holiday, the more I longed for such a minimalist approach.
Shelly
kept
it subtle last year
due
to my
overwhelming
depression. This year I wouldn’t be that lucky.

The hallways were draped with garland and lights
twinkled above every classroom door.
Even Misty, the Dark
Lord herself, had taken to wearing a Santa hat and a small
sprig of mistletoe on her belt. It figures that she could take a
family holiday and turn it into something skanky. Of course
all the boys followed her around salivating over what she was
offering. There were only three boys who seemed immune to
her questionably
festive,
definitely
suggestive accessory—
Zach, Boone, and Lucas.

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