Sisters of Salt and Iron

  “Wren?”

  I whipped my head around. “What?”

  “You stopped moving.” He was right, we were still. “Is everything all right?”

  I laughed. “Daydreaming. Sorry.”

  “What about?” he asked.

  Before I could stop myself, I blurted, “Eyes. I like eyeballs. I have a collection.”

  He didn’t even blink as we started moving again. “I should like to see that—if you would show me.”

  Shouldn’t I feel guilty for thinking about plucking the eyes right out of the sockets of the living? Probably, but I didn’t. I didn’t even care if it was because of Halloween or something else. It didn’t matter. Being with Noah mattered. Feeling like I could be my real self with someone and not be judged for it mattered.

  But...not even Lark knew about my collection. She’d never seen them. “Maybe I’ll bring them with me someday.”

  He didn’t push, and I was glad.

  “I used to collect things,” he said. “For the first thirty or forty years of being a ghost I would tuck away little keepsakes—hair from relatives because it was easy to collect. Once I was strong enough to interact with objects, I’d sometimes stash away handkerchiefs—not that I had any need for them.” He laughed. “In the 1950s I became obsessed with collecting teeth.”

  I smiled. I loved how relaxed I felt with him. Not anxious like I had been with Kevin. I felt like we were two halves of the same whole—sort of like my connection to Lark, but different. More intense.

  We drifted into the cemetery. It was serenely pretty under the moonlight. There was no one here—no teenagers steaming up the windows of parked cars. It was nice.

  “I envy you your freedom,” Noah remarked. He was in the lead now, guiding me toward his place of rest. “You can go anywhere you want. You’re not bound by a place or thing.”

  “I don’t know why I’m that way,” I replied. “I just am.”

  “I didn’t mean any offense, dearest. I think it’s wonderful that you can do all these things. And I’m happy to join you on any journey during which you wish to have my company.”

  “We can go anywhere you want within the town. I haven’t tried to go any farther.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind. It might be nice to visit the house where I grew up.”

  I’d take him there in an instant. “Whenever you want.”

  The McCrae crypt stood a little farther ahead. It was dark stone, bright and shadowed by the morning sun. We passed through the door—most ghosts chose to go through a door even though it was no different than a wall. Habit.

  Inside the crypt was dark—the sun streaming through small stained glass windows, painting squares of red, yellow and blue on the dusty floor.

  Noah moved to the back wall. “Someone’s been here,” he said.

  I peered around him and saw that the compartment door had handprints in the dust.

  Noah stuck his head through the wall. When he came out again he was frowning. “My remains are gone.”

  I went still. “What?”

  He turned to me, anger and shock all over his face. “Someone took my bones, Wren. Who would take my bones?”

  I stuck my own head into the compartment, through the coffin, and looked inside. It was indeed empty, but it was obvious that there had been a body in it at one time.

  I slipped out to find Noah glaring at me. “Had to see for yourself?” he demanded. “You didn’t believe me?”

  “Of course I believe you. I just wanted to see if there was some sort of clue.”

  He pointed at the dirt-covered floor. “There’s your clue.”

  I glanced down. There, near where my own foot hovered, was a clear shoe print. It was a woman’s shoe with a round heel and a wide, rounded front. On its own it wouldn’t be much of a clue, but the stylized F imprinted in the dirt was.

  I went cold. I felt as though someone had reached inside me and ripped out something vital. I knew that F.

  Lark.

  LARK

  How was I going to explain to Wren about her remains being missing? The question haunted me (pardon the pun) when I got home. I’d dug her up and brought the dirty tiny casket home to hide in Nan’s garage, but I’d told Kevin I was going to bury her somewhere—and, no offense, but I wasn’t going to tell him where, just in case Noah took him over again.

  He’d dropped me off with the promise that he’d wear his iron rings all the time. And I’d drawn pujok symbols that Ben’s granny had taught me on his inner arm in Sharpie to help. He promised me he’d look into better ways to protect himself, but I was worried about him. Noah used to be a medium as well, and now he was a powerful ghost. Kevin was going to have to be very strong to resist him.

  “Eat peaches,” I told him.

  He looked at me like I was nuts. “Yeah, sure. Thanks.” Then he backed his car out of the drive and onto the street.

  I had an awful feeling as I went into the house that I might not see him again.

  Lying in my bed, I almost texted Ben, but he’d had me whining on his shoulder enough recently. And Ben would say all the right things, the things I needed to hear, whether I liked them or not.

  I typed out a message and hit the Send key. A couple of minutes later my phone vibrated in my hand. On the screen was just one word: Yes.

  Before I could talk myself out of it, I made the call.

  “So, is this when I get to apologize for being such a tool for climbing in your bedroom window?” Mace asked when he answered. His voice was low. I wondered if his family was in bed.

  “No,” I replied with a slight smile. “This is when you tell me that ghosts are already dead, so it’s not murder if I put one down.”

  “Why would I tell you what you already know?” And then, “Wait. Is this about the guy your sister’s seeing? The ass-hat?”

  “He knows I’m onto him. He’s been possessing Kevin, and he moved his remains from the family crypt. I can’t burn him if I can’t find him.”

  “He possessed Kevin?”

  “Yeah.” I knew where he was going with this. “No, I don’t think it was Noah who swapped spit with Sarah.”

  “You have such a kind and caring way with words, bitch.” There was a trace of a smile in his voice, so I didn’t take offense, and I didn’t apologize.

  I sighed. “Look, it’s none of my business, but I don’t think Kevin meant to hurt you. I heard him tell Sarah it was over. He felt terrible betraying you. He was just messed up, you know?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Neither do I. Stop stealing my thunder.”

  He actually laughed. “Look, you do whatever you need to do to this ghost, okay? I’m with you all the way. We all are.”

  Huh. Maybe Mace knew what I needed to hear, as well. “Hey, Joe Hard told me Olgilvie killed a girl. Her name was Laura.”

  “What?”

  “You remember when you and I got arrested at Haven Crest?” As if he could have forgotten. Mace’s father was the police chief, and I’m pretty sure he’d gotten in a lot of trouble that night. “When Joe showed up at the police station, he mentioned Laura.”

  “I believe you. I didn’t know Laura, but my mom did.”

  Right. He told me that his mother knew Joe—that she used to have a crush on him. They probably grew up together. Joe also had a bit of a thing for my grandmother when he was younger, which I refused to think about.

  “Were they friends?” I asked.

  “Yeah. Olgilvie had a thing for her. She disappeared, though, years ago. Everyone thought she ran off to meet up with Joe on tour, but she never made it. No one heard from her again. You’re saying Olgilvie killed her?”

  “That’s what Joe said. He showed me the spot where our creepy cop friend buried her. Joe t
hinks he’s going to move her the night of the concert.”

  “Why would he do that? Even if someone found her, there probably isn’t much in the way of evidence left.”

  “To prevent an investigation. I bet people had their suspicions about Olgilvie. In a small town like this, everybody knows everyone else. Even if nothing came of it, you can bet there were people who thought he did something to her. People who knew he wanted her for himself.”

  “Damn.” Mace was silent for a second. “I know some of the guys who are working the night of the concert. If we can find out when Olgilvie’s going to do it, I can probably make sure he’s found. It takes time to dig up a corpse.”

  “Yeah,” I said drily. “I know.” I’d dug up more graves than I would ever admit.

  After making as much of a plan as we could—which basically hinged on Joe watching Olgilvie, his being able to contact me and Mace’s credibility with his father’s men—we hung up. I snuggled under the covers and waited for sleep to come.

  I lay awake most of the night, worrying about Ben, my friends, the concert, Halloween, Noah and—most of all—Wren. I hadn’t seen her since she’d gone off to ask Noah about being related to Kevin. I knew she was fine, because I could feel it.

  The next morning I forced myself out of bed. My skin was itchy and tight—like it was stretched over my bones. I was exhausted, and had to use way more under-eye concealer than normal to make myself look half-presentable.

  Ben had Roxi and Gage with him when he came by to pick me up for school. Roxi took one look at me and gave me a hug. I almost cried.

  I was just about to get into the car when I felt my sister’s arrival.

  “Lark,” she said, from behind me.

  Gage’s eyes went wide as he stared over my shoulder. I knew right then and there that this wasn’t going to go well. Wren was manifesting.

  I set my bag aside. “You guys should leave,” I said.

  Ben—who had gotten out of the car—shook his head. “I’m not leaving you.”

  I think I loved him at that moment, the idiot. I gave him a shaky smile before turning to face my sister.

  God, she was scary. I’d seen her angry before, but it had always been directed toward someone else—not me. Her dark red hair stood out all around her head, caught in the static-charged breeze generated by her rage. Her eyes were entirely black, with dark smudges on the surrounding skin. There was darkness around her mouth as well, and her lips were dark gray, her face stark white. She was dressed in what looked to be layers of shadow—moving tendrils of darkness that swirled around her form like gossamer silk. There was nothing even vaguely human about her.

  She was terrifying.

  “Lark?” came Roxi’s voice—high and soft. Scared.

  “It’s okay, Rox,” I said, not taking my eyes off my sister. “Wren, what are you doing?”

  She stood a couple of feet away from me—close enough that her energy nipped at me like tiny electric shocks. “Where are Noah’s bones?”

  Noah’s bones? Not hers? What the hell?

  Wren moved closer. My hair lifted in the breeze she created—like a blast of summer in the cold morning. “I saw your footprint in the dirt at the crypt. You shouldn’t wear Fluevogs when you go looking to burn remains—it gives you away.”

  That fucker.

  He’d known I’d go after him. He’d moved his own freaking bones and then made Wren believe it had been me.

  “I don’t have Noah’s remains,” I told her.

  Wren reared up, stretching a foot above me. “Don’t lie to me!”

  My fists clenched. “You calm the hell down. I’m not lying.”

  “You were in the crypt.”

  “Yes, I was. But his bones were already gone.”

  Her energy came at me like a hot wind now—crackling like the approach of lightning. “Liar! You were going to burn him!”

  “Yes, I was,” I shouted. “And if his bones had been there I would have! But they weren’t there!”

  “Where are they?”

  “I don’t know. Ask your boyfriend. He’s the one who possessed Kevin and used him to move his bones.”

  “What?” Gage asked. Behind me I heard him turn to either Ben or Roxi. “Did she say a ghost possessed Kev?”

  Wren shot him a glare that spoke of torment and everlasting cold. “Shut up.”

  “Hey!” I stepped in front of her. “You don’t talk to him like that. You’re the one going full-on Amityville right now.”

  She turned that glare on me. It didn’t have the same effect—I was surprisingly unmoved. I stared back—she actually flinched. “You don’t want me to be happy. You went behind my back, Lark.”

  I scowled. “Oh, get off it. Of course I want you to be happy. What I don’t want is for you to be involved with a psycho.”

  “You haven’t even given him a chance. He makes me happy.”

  “He’s using you.”

  “For what?”

  I was not going to tell her that I didn’t know. “Emily says he’s the one that imprisoned her.”

  She shook her head. “Emily?”

  “She came to me again. She told me that Noah imprisoned her as revenge for her dusting his sister’s ghost. Wren, he killed himself so he could gain the power to use against her. And now he’s going to take revenge not only on her, but on us.”

  “That’s a lie!”

  The lightbulb above the door exploded. Roxi and Gage cried out. Only Ben was silent. I had to fight the urge to look behind me to make sure he was okay.

  Energy clawed up my spine like a thousand needles. My fingers tingled. “It’s not a lie. He’s using you.”

  “You think all ghosts are evil,” she sneered at me. Even her teeth were black. “You can’t stand that I’ve met someone nice—someone who actually likes me and I can be with.”

  “Now you’re the one lying,” I informed her. My voice didn’t sound right in my ears—it was deeper, rougher. “Think about it, Wren. Isn’t he a little too good to be true? A little too perfect for you? I bet he always says just the thing you want to hear. I bet he’s even been nice about me, as he lists off all the ways I’m a terrible sister who doesn’t understand you.” I had no idea if he’d said such things or not, but if I were in his place, I would. It was classic divide and conquer.

  “You don’t understand me,” she growled. It was a knife to the heart. “You never have. You don’t know me half as well as Noah does. He understands me better than you ever will. You think you’re better than me just because you’re the one lucky enough to be born alive. You’ve always treated me like I was a bother.”

  I stared at her. My friends were silent, but I could feel their stares as I stood there, raw and exposed. I trembled with the strain of containing the emotions raging inside me. I choked on them.

  “I died for you,” I rasped. “I killed myself to prove that you were real. I went to Bell Hill because of you. My entire life you’ve been the most important person in it. I lost my mother because I refused to turn my back on you. Don’t you ever tell me that I’ve treated you as something less! I would never let some guy I’ve only known a few days come between us!”

  “Listen to her, Wren,” came Ben’s voice. “Any guy who truly cares about you would realize how much you and Lark mean to each other.”

  Oh, God. I knew he meant well, but I wished he hadn’t said anything. That he hadn’t caught her attention. Wren’s head jerked so that she could look at him. I blinked and she lunged.

  I whipped around as she tore past me. For a split second I could only watch as she attacked my boyfriend. She bent him over the hood of the car, perched on his chest, her fingers—like talons—going for his eyes. If she scratched him, it would cause a spectral infection like Bent had done.

  Something
inside me snapped. I think it was my humanity. I was not going to allow Wren to hurt someone, especially not Ben.

  I went after her, running and leaping into the air like a cat. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t normal.

  I didn’t care.

  My fingers fisted in her hair, close to her scalp, and yanked. She flew backward, off Ben, into the side of the house. The siding cracked.

  “Fuuuuck,” Gage muttered, awe dragging the word out.

  “Lark?” That was Ben. I didn’t look. He was only going to try to talk me down, and that was not going to happen. Not now.

  “You don’t touch him,” I said to Wren as she stood. “You hear me? You never touch him.”

  “But you can kill Noah?” she demanded.

  “Noah’s a monster,” I told her. I didn’t have much proof—just Emily’s word and my gut. And a sister who was acting like a ghost who needed putting down. That was proof enough. Noah had done this to her.

  When she came at me, I caught a hint of something strange just before she punched me in the face. Her aura wasn’t right. It swirled with darkness and a strange greenish tint, as though she’d been poisoned.

  The same color I’d noticed haloing Noah at Kevin’s party.

  My head jerked back from the force of the blow, but I stood my ground. How, I don’t know. I immediately went into fighting stance and caught her with a kick to the chest. She held her ground, too.

  After that I don’t remember much except the giving and taking of pain. We traded punches and kicks with increasing speed and ferocity, but we were a perfect match for one another. We could do this forever, and neither one of us was ever going to win—not while we fought against each other.

  But neither of us was about to stop trying.

  We’d never fought like this before. All we’d gone through together, all we’d faced, and we were fighting over a freaking boy.

  The door to the house flew open, and there was Nan, dressed in her gym clothes. “What’s going on out here?” she cried.

  Wren and I froze at the sound of her voice. We stood in the driveway, practically toe to toe, both of us battered and bloody.