The earthquake rumblings suddenly ceased and the house was completely quiet and still. It was as if nothing had ever happened, as if there hadn’t been an arctic and vindictive wind blowing through the hallway at all. I opened my eyes and took a deep breath, turning my gaze to Christopher, who wore the expression of someone nervous…worried.
“I consecrate this threshold,” Christopher started again, his voice barely a whisper. He lifted up the bowl of salt and flung it in each corner of the kitchen as he fought to catch his breath. “That it shield against malevolence and evil,” he continued. As he spoke each word and then flicked holy water in each corner of the room, the silence in the house was almost more difficult to deal with than the wind and the earthquake had been. “And all creatures that would do us harm from now until forever,” he finished and drew the sign of the pentagram in the air, followed by the sign of the cross.
Then it was eerily quiet for three seconds. As I was about to breach the silence by asking whether or not the entity had been cleared, there was a horrible, high-pitched cracking sound like ice breaking.
“The windows,” Ryan said in awe, as I glanced over at the row of kitchen windows and noticed each one of them had cracked down the middle. I looked back at him and realized his breath was coming out of his mouth in cloudy wisps. I shivered in spite of myself, my heart pounding through my body. I couldn’t remember ever having been so scared.
“Let all things evil an’ impure hear this ringin’ bell,” Lovie spoke as she rang the bell that she’d been carrying in her hand. I couldn’t understand why I hadn’t heard the ringing of her bell in the gusts of wind that attacked us earlier, which just further spoke to the fact that it must have all been in my head.
“Depart from this space at once!” she finished, continuing to ring her bell.
“At my command,” Christopher said suddenly, holding his silver sword up above his head as he made the sign of the cross in the air. “I banish all evil from this place!”
The sudden sound of exploding glass blasted through the air as Ryan shielded my body with his and I heard myself scream. And then there was nothing but silence again. I opened my eyes and noticed there was glass all over the floor. Glancing up at Ryan, I found his attention on me.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his eyes wide with worry.
“I’m fine,” I answered in a mousy voice as I faced Christopher, who stood up stock straight, his mouth held firmly in a tight white line.
“It is complete,” he said simply.
“The windows,” I spoke as I glanced at the windows in the kitchen and noticed the glass from each one had been completely blown out.
“We forced the entity from the house,” Christopher said in his usual tone of indifference. “It is only natural that it blew all the windows to escape.”
“Drake, are you able to detect any residual ghostly energy?” I asked, wondering if maybe he would be able to tell if the house really had been cleansed.
He definitely hadn’t been much of a help during the cleansing ritual itself, so I assumed I was just being hopeful.
“I do not, ma minette,” he answered. “But, of course, that could be due to the fact that I now reside…inside you.”
It was becoming more and more obvious that Drake was thrilled to find as many different nuances as he could regarding the subject of him residing inside me. In fact, he never seemed to get tired of it. As for me, I was still so completely floored, scared, and shocked by what we’d just undergone that I couldn’t think of much else.
“I will leave some of this kosher salt here,” Christopher continued while eyeing Ryan and then me. “You both should cleanse yourselves with a ritual bath of kosher salt, or you can also use it in the shower. It will cleanse you of any residual spiritual dirt.”
“Are you able to tell if you forced the entity out?” I asked expectantly, because I was still scared to death that they hadn’t.
Christopher eyed me with little interest. “I believe we forced the spirit out. Its energy is gone.”
“How sure are you?” Ryan asked, the look of shock resident in his eyes, just as I was sure it was in mine.
“Sure,” Christopher answered with a drawn eyebrow. He started for the door but then eyed me over his shoulder. “I shall send you a bill,” he finished. “Of course, I will have to amend my customary prices given what we experienced.”
I couldn’t say I was at all concerned with money at the moment. Instead, I found myself speechless and just watched Christopher as he stopped short in front of his two bags, which sat on the floor in the foyer. He bent down and loaded all the paraphernalia he and Lovie had used in the ritual into the receptacles and then, standing up, started for the front door. Again.
“Thanks, Lovie,” I said in a soft tone. She turned around and nodded, offering us both a smile.
“You keep yer eyes open fo’ anythin’ that feels wrong,” she said and then eyed me in particular. “If you even get a hint that this thing hasn’t cleared out, you’ll call us?”
“I will,” I answered with a nod as relief started to suffuse me once they were both standing at the mouth of the doorway.
Lovie smiled before she closed her eyes and held her hands out to her sides as if she were checking the air with her psychic abilities. She opened her eyes moments later. “The house feels clean ta me,” she announced. “But one can neva be too careful.”
Christopher opened the door as the wind picked up his cloak and blew it out behind him. He walked into the dark afternoon sky and unlocked an old black Lincoln Town Car, placing his two bags in the trunk. Then he approached the driver’s door and, opening it, took a seat and closed the door without even saying good-bye. Lovie offered us a quick wave before she disappeared into the passenger seat, and the two of them drove off.
Ryan and I watched the car drive away from inside my house, neither of us saying anything. Finally I closed the front door as Ryan exhaled, throwing his arm around me. “Are you alright, Pey?” he asked.
I was beyond exhausted. It was as if the lack of sleep, the worry, and the anxiety that had been culminating for the last three days, and now the intensity of this exorcism, had finally come to a head.
“Incroyable!” Drake sounded inside my head, so I immediately thought the words that would shut him out. I couldn’t deal with him at the moment.
“Peyton, I want you to promise me that you aren’t gonna shut me out again,” Ryan said as we started for the guest bedroom where I wanted nothing more than to relax against his chest and feel his large, powerful arms around me. “If I hadn’t randomly shown up, you would’ve gone through all that yourself,” he said, eyeing me warily. The thought was enough for my heart to suddenly ride into my throat.
“I’m so glad you decided to come over when you did,” I answered honestly.
He tipped my chin up and smiled down at me. “We’re supposed to be in this together from here on out, right?”
I nodded and then sighed. “I promise I won’t shut you out again.”
“Good,” he said and hugged me tightly as he kissed the top of my head. Even though I still hadn’t worked up the cojones to tell him I was possessed with Drake’s spirit, I made myself the promise that I would do so tomorrow. For now, I just wanted to enjoy the fact that for the first time since I’d taken residence in my house, it was spirit-free.
Or so I hoped.
Author’s Note
The story of the Axeman is based on a true crime spree that occurred in New Orleans at the beginning of the twentieth century. Accordingly, I’ve used many of the actual names of those involved in the original crime. As this is a work of fiction, some of the circumstances surrounding those involved are fictionalized.
Acknowledgments
To my husband and son: Thank you for all your support and patience.
To my mother: Thank you for always being the first set of eyes on all my books!
To my editors at Montlake, Kelli Martin and Maria Gomez: Thank you for you
r guidance and your constructive criticism.
To my agent, Jane Dystel: You’re awesome!
To all my readers: Thank you all so very much for your continued support. I wouldn’t be here without you!!
About the Author
A New York Times bestselling author, H.P. Mallory began her writing career as a self-published author. She’s a huge fan of anything paranormal, and anything ghost or vampire related will always attract her attention. Her interests are varied but aside from writing, she’s most excited about traveling. She’s very fortunate to have lived in England and Scotland, both places really having a profound effect on her books. H.P. lives in Southern California, where she is busily working on her next book! Please find H.P. on the web at: www.hpmallory.com
H.P. Mallory, Ghouls Rush In
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