Ghost of a Chance

  I confided to her that I was scared to go see them, considering the power the pendent seemed to have. "I don't want to draw his attention onto them. Please, tell them I love them. Tell them we're trying to clear this up. Tell them—"

  She put her hand on my arm. "Quit worrying. They know you love them, and I'll make sure they know again." She paused, door half open in her hands. "Em, I don't like leaving you here alone, especially after what happened to Harlow. Are you sure you won't come home with me? Or go to a hotel where you might be safer?"

  Safe? I didn't think I'd be safe anywhere. "Harlow was on the road when he got to her. If Mr. B & U wants me, he'll find me no matter where I am. I promise I'll be careful. Now go on, get out of here." As she pulled out onto the slick roads, the phone rang. It was Andrew. I asked how his work was going.

  "I roughed out the outline. The beginnings of a book always scare me—I'm never sure if I can keep the momentum going."

  "Can I read it as you write?" I was still amazed by the fact that he was a romance writer. Somehow it just fit—I would manage to get involved with a gorgeous man who wrote bodice rippers.

  "No, you may not. I never let anybody see my work until I'm at least one draft through the book, even my writing group. So, how was your day? Any more news about Walter?"

  "Not that I know of. Murray came over, and we mapped out our attack for tomorrow night." I roughly went over our plan.

  "That sounds far too dangerous. Is there any other way to handle this? I don't want you to get hurt."

  "There's no other choice, Andrew. Not unless I sell the house and move, and I don't think even that would do it. This thing is after me, after my family. God, I miss the kids; I can hardly wait for them to come home." The sound of splintering glass echoed down the stairway, so loud that it sounded like something had smashed through a window. "Oh, shit! I'll call you back."

  I tossed the receiver on the table and took the stairs as fast as I could. The sound had come from my bedroom. Shards of my vanity mirror glittered all over the dressing table and floor, jagged edges threatening to slice anything that touched them.

  Nothing was out of order except the slivers of mirror that had showered my makeup, perfume, and jewelry box. The closet was open, but no one was inside. The cats were all at Andrew's; they couldn't have been responsible for the damage. I closed the door and bounded down the steps, trying to push thoughts of vengeful spirits out of my mind. They refused to budge. In my gut, I knew this was the work of the entity trailing after Susan.

  I leaned against the arch leading into the living room and tried to steady myself. What was I going to do? My nerves were shot, and I just wanted everything to be normal again. The first thing I had to do was clean up the mess. I couldn't just leave it there. Broken glass was dangerous enough by itself, but with a wayward ghost around, it could too easily turn into ammunition. Steeling my courage, I dug out the vacuum and attempted another assault on the upper story.

  The bedroom was icy cold, even though the rest of the house was warm—a sure sign that a spirit had passed through. After gingerly picking up the bigger shards, I plugged in the vacuum. Propping my bedroom door open as wide as I could to give myself a head start should anything from the nether world show up, I turned on the motor and used the hose to start sucking up the slivers of glass. Thank heavens for the invention of the bagless vacuum.

  I had almost finished when a tap on my shoulder jolted me into a panic. My shriek reverberated through the room as I let go of the vacuum and whirled around, hands flailing to ward off whatever might be attacking me.

  Andrew grabbed me around the shoulders and pulled me into a tight embrace. "It's okay! It's okay! Em, it's just me." I began to shake, hyperventilating until he set me down on the bed and stroked my hair back from my face. "Emerald, it's okay. I'm here now. Everything's all right."

  "Oh, my God, you scared me." After I caught my breath, I filled him in on the broken mirror. A spark fluttered in my heart as I realized how worried he'd been. "I can't believe you drove over here to check on me. Thank you."

  "I'll clean up the rest. You stay put." He finished vacuuming the rest of the glass. Then he took a look at the wall where the mirror had been attached by heavy screws. A pensive shadow covered his face. "I can't figure out how your mirror broke. The fastenings on the wall were fine. It looks like it just jumped off all by itself. I'm not very sensitive to energy like you are. Do you think it's our ugly friend?"

  "I don't know for sure, but I'd bet on it. Come on, let's go downstairs."

  We settled in the kitchen with hot cocoa and cookies. With a quick look at the clock, he sighed. "I hate this. I don't want to leave you alone, but I should go home and take care of some business that I've ignored… contract stuff. My agent is on my back. If I don't get it done tonight, my publisher will be breathing down my neck. Would you like to come back to my place?"

  I looked around. This was my home; all of my things were here. This was a haven where my children could grow up in safety, and nobody was going to run me out. My mother had left her country to follow my father across the ocean. Nanna had made the crossing alone, after Nappa died. My father had set up his own business, risking the chance of failure. But they'd survived and prospered. How could I fly in the face of family courage and leave, my tail between my legs?

  "Thanks, Andrew, but I'll stay here. We McGradys never run away from our problems, even when we marry them." I grinned at him. "As I told Murray, if Mr. B & U wants to get me, it doesn't matter where I am. I'll be careful, so you go home and work. I promise to stay out of my bedroom and keep my eyes open. Tomorrow Murray and I will blast that bad-ass out of here."

  "Are you sure?" I nodded, and he gave me a long kiss. "Okay, then, but you call me if you need anything. Anything." I waved, tensing as the door shut behind him. The broken mirror had spooked me, and the house was quiet. Too quiet. I grabbed the remote and flipped on the TV. Christmas shows. Well, at least they were cheerful. I left the set on for background noise and picked up a copy of Victoria but soon drifted off into a nap.

  Crash.

  I shot straight up, blurry-eyed but most definitely awake. How long had I been asleep? The light from the streetlamps filtering through the window told me it had been at least a couple of hours. The television was going haywire—first with static and then with wild, zigzagging lines. As I rubbed the sleep from my eyes the crash was repeated by a louder one. What the hell?

  The phone—where was the phone? I couldn't remember where I'd left it, and I hadn't turned on the lights before I fell asleep. I had to get to the phone in the kitchen. As I stood, a wave of vertigo raced through me. Could we be having an earthquake? I felt for a rolling under my feet, but the room itself was steady. Just then, a swirl of energy shifted and a vortex sucked me in, a dark and swirling whirlpool of chaos.

  "What the hell…" Even as I spoke, I knew where the movement was coming from. Mr. B & U was on the prowl. I had to get out of this house. Mist had risen, blinding everything around me, and even my thoughts clouded over. Another wave hit and sent me reeling. Too dizzy to stand, I grabbed the arm of the sofa and lowered myself to my hands and knees.

  Get to the kitchen… I had to get to the kitchen. Why? The phone, that's right. I needed to get to the phone.

  More crashing from upstairs. Then, after a lull, other sounds came from my room—scratching noises—fingernails screeching on chalkboards. Footsteps raced across the ceiling as a series of knocks reverberated through the walls. What was up there? So far Mr. B & U had been nebulous, without much form, but this… this sounded solid. Had he managed to manifest? Was there some monster, some hobgoblin, crawling around my house, looking for me? And then, then I knew. The mirror had been a portal, and when he managed to break it, he was free to come through.

  Inch by inch, I forced my way to the kitchen. The bruise on my knee burned brightly as I reeled with every movement. By the time I reached the archway, I was drenched with sweat. As I slid onto the cool kitchen tiles,
something skittered loudly, racing back and forth overhead and I ducked, wondering if it would come crashing through the ceiling onto me.

  Moonlight reflected into the pantry through the curtains over the kitchen sink. I debated. I could either try for the alcove or try to make it to the door. But if I went outside, I'd be barefoot, without my keys or purse. Could I make it over to Horvald's? The ice was so slick and I was so confused that I didn't know if I could manage to reach his house.

  Another crash. Goddamn, couldn't anybody hear this from the street? If I heard crashes coming from a neighbor's house I'd be calling the cops.

  The noises were near the stairs now, and I began to panic. How long before Mr. B & U came downstairs and found me? In the dim light from the window, I caught sight of the phone and grabbed the receiver, praying for a dial tone. I sat on the floor, back pressed against the wall, trying to punch in Andrew's number. I was so nervous that I had to dial twice before I got it right. Meanwhile, I kept my eye on the living room door and one ear trained on the noises coming from upstairs.

  Andrew came on the line, and in hushed whispers I spilled my fear into the receiver. "Can you come over right away? There's something in the house here and I can't get to the door."

  "Call the police—just do it! I don't care if you're afraid of looking psycho—dial 911. I'm out the door." The click of the receiver promised that he was on his way, but could he get here in time?

  Should I call the cops? What could they do? Call in a priest? But maybe, just maybe, their presence would make it stop long enough for me to get out of here. I dialed 911. The emergency operator was so calm that her voice gave me strength. I told her that there was someone in my house. She dispatched a unit and I hung up, praying that they would get here soon.

  Thump, thump, thump. The noise was on the stairs now. Shit, I had to get out of here. I eyeballed the door to the backyard, but I couldn't do it. I couldn't make myself crawl even that short distance to freedom. Confused by the kaleidoscope of energy that assailed my senses, it was all I could do to drag myself into the pantry and curl up in the corner. I wiped my nose and looked around for a weapon, but the only thing I could find were canned goods. I stacked a few cans of peaches in front of me, thinking I could throw them if nothing else.

  What had Nanna taught me about psychic attack? I struggled to remember her words through the cacophony that sounded around me. Oh, yes—build a wall of energy between the attacker and me. I caught my breath, struggling to remain calm.

  "Nanna, if ever I needed your help, I need it now." My whisper was lost in the rush of noise that raced through the walls, through the floor, but it must have gotten through to the other side, because I felt a gentle hand rest on my shoulder as a faint whiff of lilac perfume embraced me. The presence didn't last long—just for a few seconds—but it was enough to steady my nerves and give me the strength I needed to envision a wall of light stretching across the pantry door, a wall I hoped would keep out anything supernatural, anything that meant to harm me.

  The noise was snuffling around in the living room now, coming closer.

  I closed my eyes, pushing myself back into the corner as far as I could go. I had done what I could, set up a warding that might or might not keep Mr. B & U out. Grateful that my children were safe, I swallowed my tears and straightened my shoulders. Murray would take care of them. How had it come to this? How and why? I had tried to help, had tried to do what felt right. Was this going to be it? Here, on the floor of my pantry?

  Damn it, I thought—no! I wasn't going out without a fight.

  I struggled to my feet, leaning heavily on the shelf next to me. Maybe I could make it out, could let adrenaline push me through the haze, but if I moved now, I would draw the attention of whatever was out there in the living room. I was out of time—I couldn't make it outside before the mayhem broke into the kitchen.

  The noises in the living room grew louder. A booming started up, vibrating the walls with thuds and high-pitched squeals of glee as whispers began to cascade amid the thundering. I straightened my shoulders. Mr. B & U would have to drag me screaming into the abyss if he wanted me. As the voices neared the kitchen doorway, I heard something in the background. At first I couldn't make it out through the din around me, but then it was clear and bright—a sound so sweet that I almost cried. Sirens, wailing into my driveway.

  There was a sudden hush from the living room as the energy pulled back, rolling away from the kitchen like an ebb tide, away from me, away from the house. As the police broke through the back door, the lights came on in a dizzying flash and I cried out once.

  * * * *

  I don't faint. In fact, I'd only fainted once in my life. But the sudden release of fear made my blood pressure drop. The moment I saw the officer's face peering into the pantry, I keeled over, deadweight.

  By the time the medics had arrived and I managed to come around, Andrew was standing behind them, pale and drawn. When I opened my eyes and croaked out, "What happened?" he took a deep breath and slumped against the doorway.

  "You'll be all right; your leg looks banged up and you cut your lip. Otherwise, I can't find anything wrong with you. Your blood pressure is a little high but not dangerous."

  "What time is it?" I scooted back against one of the shelves.

  Andrew checked his watch. "About 9:00 p.m."

  One of the policemen knelt down beside me. "Ms. O'Brien—could you tell us what, if anything, you saw and heard?"

  "Is my house completely trashed?" I wanted to help them but couldn't focus until I knew the extent of the damage.

  The cop exchanged glances with Andrew, but I couldn't read what they were thinking. Then he turned back to me. "No; in fact, nothing appears to be out of place."

  Andrew joined him. He reached out to take my hand. "Everything's okay, Em, not a scratch in the house, nothing broken, nothing overturned."

  "That's impossible. I had heard them wrecking my house. It sounded like a freight train was rumbling through the rooms—"

  The cop broke in. "We're not sure what happened, Ms. O'Brien, but we found no signs of any intruder. Maybe it was bad plumbing? That can sound pretty bad. Noises always sound louder at night." He flipped his notebook shut and I could tell that this was going to be his official explanation.

  "If you could just help me into the living room…"

  The medics shrugged and helped me up. Andrew pushed by them and lifted me in his arms, carrying me gently to the sofa. "I rather like rescuing you," he said softly.

  The younger of the two paramedics grinned. "Are you sure you don't want to go to the hospital?" I shook my head. "Then please sign this form stating that we showed up and you feel okay and we're free to go."

  "Don't worry," I grumbled as he handed me the pen. "You aren't going to get sued, and I'm not holding you liable for whatever happens to me because I didn't let you strap me to a stretcher." I scribbled my name across the bottom.

  They gathered up their gear and followed the cops out of the house. I wondered just what the neighbors would be thinking now—cop cars and Medic One units, all with lights flashing in front of my house in the dark winter night.

  Andrew saw them to the door, then returned to the living room, where I was gingerly examining my freshly purpled knee. I'd be okay, but crawling across the floor hadn't helped the bruises any. Definitely no marathons in the near future. I tried to shake off the ringing in my ears and the tingling that jolted every nerve in my body as I looked around the room.

  Everything was in its place; nothing had been upset or tipped over. After what I had heard, I expected every knickknack to be on the floor, broken. But if a tornado had roared through my house, there was no sign of it now. I glanced out the window, but it was so dark that I couldn't see anything. Bad plumbing, my ass.

  "You can't stay here, so don't give me any grief about it, woman. I'm taking you home with me." Andrew snagged my coat from the hallway.

  "He was coming for me." I mutely accepted the coat and sli
d into it. "Mr. B & U was headed straight for me. He would have killed me." Andrew helped me with my boots.

  "Yeah." His voice was thready. "I could hear what was going on when you called me on the phone. I was terrified that I was going to find you dead."

  I couldn't help it, I began to cry, tears boiling up from the anger and fear that the evening had wrought. "I'm sick of it. I don't want to run away, I won't let that creature have control over my house! I just want whatever this is to go away."

  "Ssshh… Murray will come over tomorrow, and then you can take care of it and the kids can come home."

  I called Murray and told her where I'd be and why. Then, leaning heavily on his shoulder, I let him help me out to his car. As we pulled out of the driveway onto the glittering street, I took a last look at my house. Yeah, I was running away tonight, but Murray and I would be back, and we'd kick some ghostly ass.

  Chapter Twenty

  The day was more hectic than I thought possible. The only bright spot was the hour I got to spend with Miranda and Kip at the shop before White Deer picked them up to take them back to Murray's after school let out. Miranda was irritable. She wanted to come home. "Mom, when are things going to get back to normal?"

  "We're doing our best. If things go right, after tonight you'll be able to come home and so will the cats." I promised that Murray and I would be careful. I only hoped that I would be able to keep my word.

  I wasn't sure what to expect when I opened the door, but the house seemed relatively quiet. Murray slipped in behind me and opened her backpack. She piled an assortment of little packages on the kitchen counter. Dried lavender for peace of mind; black peppercorns to drive out evil; cedar for purification; and dragon's blood resin, which boiled like blood when dropped on hot charcoal. She added a small package of gum mastic, a resin that helped open the mind to peer into other realms; a packet of jasmine flowers; and a tiny box containing red sandal-wood powder.