Sisters of Blood and Spirit Page 7

  I laughed. Maybe these people were my friends after all. At least they hadn’t run away screaming.

  “It’s warming up again,” Sarah remarked.

  Kevin took a small broom and dustpan from one of the lower cupboards I’d opened and started cleaning up the glass from the lightbulb. I closed what drawers and cupboards I could, but the more calm I became, the less strength I had. Gage came over and watched as I closed the cutlery drawer. I could feel the infection that was taking hold of him. It was like a hot, greasy smear over his soul.

  “That is so cool,” he mused. “I wonder if she’d help me clean my room?”

  “No,” Kevin and I chorused. I knew he heard me because he smiled, but his gaze didn’t quite reach me. I guess him seeing me once was all I got. I’d been lucky to get that.

  Gage shrugged. “Whatever.”

  That was when the door flew open and in walked Mace and Lark. I took one look at my sister and froze. I’d been too distracted to feel her near. Her hair was a mess, her clothes were dirty—she had a huge run in her tights—and her hands were bloody. But more concerning than even that was the look on her face. I’d seen that expression before. I’d seen it when she was in that awful place. It was a face that said things were bad, and that she was prepared to fight, quite possibly to the death.

  I didn’t like that face—her ghost-fighting face. I wanted my sister to live a long and happy life, and I wanted to experience it with her every step of the way.

  Sarah hugged Mace. He winced when she pressed against him. Ben clapped him on the shoulder. Out of all of them, I noticed the infection less in Ben. I didn’t know why, but some humans had a stronger resistance to spiritual wounds. It didn’t seem to have to do with religion, but with the strength of their soul.

  “Oh, my God, your hands.” Roxi’s dark eyes were as big as saucers as she stared at Lark’s bloody fingers. “We’ve got to clean those. What happened?”

  “It attacked you, didn’t it?” I asked, following my sister to the sink.

  “Your ghost wanted a little taste of me, too.” Lark turned on the water and stuck her hands beneath the faucet. She hissed when the warm wet struck her skin. “It looks worse than it is.”

  It could have been worse; we both knew that. My sister had experienced worse. She healed from these sorts of wounds quickly, but they could still hurt her.

  “So, did you get rid of it?” Gage asked.

  Patting her hands with paper towel, Lark turned to him with a scowl. She was in more pain than she let on. Pain and uncertainty always made her cranky. “What do you think? Do you feel like it’s gone? Or do you still have a little sweat at the base of your spine?”

  The boy drew back, hiding a little behind his shoulder-length black hair.

  “You don’t have to talk like we’re idiots,” Sarah insisted hotly. “Or like you’re superior because you know something about ghosts. We didn’t ask for this.”

  Lark tossed the rust-stained paper towel in the garbage. “No? So you hadn’t heard stories about Haven Crest before you decided to go for a midnight stroll on its grounds? You don’t really expect me to buy that crap, do you? You all went there looking to have a little scare, maybe find a ghost. Well, congratufuckinglations, you found one.”

  Ben straightened. “Hey...”

  Lark held up her hand. “Look, I get it. I know you didn’t ask for this, but you got it, and you’ve asked me to help fix it. Well, if you want my help, don’t frigging lie to me. Don’t tell me you weren’t hoping for something to happen, and don’t get all defensive when I call you on it.” She walked right up to Sarah and looked down at her. “You want to think I’m a bitch? Fine, but I’m the only thing standing between you and a pretty crap death, so you’ll forgive me if sometimes I get a little superior.”

  I think everyone in the room held their breath for a second while the two of them faced off. I got the distinct impression that Sarah was not accustomed to being “talked back to.”

  “All right,” Sarah said, holding my sister’s gaze. She smiled. “What next, bitch?”

  Lark actually grinned, which seemed to be a surprise to everyone but me. “We need to find out who we’re up against.”

  “A lot of people died in that place,” Kevin reminded them. “That’s not going to be easy.”

  Lark held up her hands. A myriad of tiny cuts stood out against the pale of her skin. “Yeah, but our guy has a thing for razors.”

  The whole bunch of them smiled at each other—as though they’d made some sort of fantastic discovery. As though everything was going to be all right.

  But it wasn’t. I could have told them that.

  LARK

  “It’s an old ghost. Strong. Angry. This isn’t the first time it’s hurt people, but it’s been dormant for a while and now it’s hungry.”

  It was just Wren and me. We were at home, in my—our—bedroom. I was in bed and she lay beside me on top of the covers. Nan had been asleep when we got home so I didn’t disturb her, but in the morning I planned to be up front with her about what was going on. I loved a good lie as much as the next person, but I didn’t want to lie to the one person who wanted me and had put her reputation on the line to support me.

  Plus, Nan had lived here her entire life. She knew about the town and its history. Maybe she knew about its ghosts, too.

  “Why didn’t you tell the others this?” There were things Wren really understood about being mortal, and then there were things that still gave her trouble—like the difference between a lie and bending the truth for someone else’s benefit. She was learning, though.

  “They didn’t need to be any more afraid than they already were.” Sometimes when people were really scared they did really stupid things. “If I want them to help me—us—stop this thing, I need them smart.”

  My sister smiled teasingly. “You want their help? Or Mace’s help?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Please. That’s just too uncomfortable to even joke about. There’s got to be stories around about this thing—it’s too powerful for someone not to have pissed off before this. Hopefully we can narrow it down to one or two ghosts, but then we’re going to have to go inside Haven Crest.”

  Wren’s expression grew serious. “Can you do that?”

  I shrugged. “I have to. I’m the only one who can see the dead and talk to the living.” How poetic that sounded. “Other than Kevin, and I don’t think he’s ready for that.” I wasn’t being snotty, just truthful.

  “I’m going with you.”

  My first thought was to tell her no, but I realized that was stupid. I nodded. “We’re stronger together.”

  Her smile took up most of her face—seriously. It was like the freaking Cheshire cat.

  “That’s really disturbing,” I told her—her teeth were almost the size of dominoes. “Stop it.”

  She laughed, and let her features go back to normal as she snuggled up against me.

  “You didn’t make out with Kevin when you were driving my body, did you?”

  She looked put out. “No!”

  Now I grinned. “Are you mad because I asked, or because you didn’t think of it at the time?”

  “Both.” Yeah, it never occurred to her to lie, either.

  I laughed.

  “It’s not funny!” Wren declared, soundlessly jumping off the bed. “If you like a boy you can see him whenever you want, and he can see you. I have to borrow you or manifest for him to see me!”

  My laughter died. “Manifest? When did you manifest?” She didn’t lie, but she could conveniently not mention things.

  She looked sheepish. “Earlier tonight. It must have been when you got hurt. I felt you were in trouble and I couldn’t stop it.”

  Well, crap. I hadn’t even worried about that. I’d seen her do her crazy-ass ghost th
ing before, but that was just it—I had been there with her. I should have realized it could happen without me present. Hell, it probably happened easier without me around.

  “Are you okay?” I asked first. And then, “Did anyone get hurt?”

  She shook her head, vibrant hair bouncing around her shoulders. It wasn’t fair her having that hair. Maybe I could dye mine. Mom would never let me, but Nan might. “No. A lightbulb blew up. That was it.”

  Okay, that was a relief. When I was in the hospital I once saw her take out a couple of windows. An orderly got pretty cut up. I wasn’t too upset about it—I wasn’t upset at all—but it had been pretty freaky to witness. I’ve never been afraid of Wren, but sometimes I was afraid for her.

  “The glass almost hit Kevin,” she confessed. She looked wrecked over it. “I could have hurt him.”

  “But you didn’t,” I reminded her. Something in her expression bothered me. She looked way more upset about this than I figured she ought to be. Usually she only looked this way when she’d done something that affected me.

  Oh, hell. Someone should really smack me in the head. The guy had been looking after her grave the entire time I was gone. You didn’t do that for a random ghost you met once. That was a caring gesture. That was something you did for someone you cared about.

  God, she was so freaking good about forgetting to mention things. But this was big. This was part of her life she’d purposefully cut me out of. That hurt. A lot.

  “How long have you been seeing him?” My voice was hoarse around the huge lump in my throat.

  She didn’t try to deny it. “As often as I can. Most of the time he doesn’t even know I’m there. But tonight, when I manifested? He saw me then.” Was she about to cry? “He actually saw me.”

  I didn’t know how to feel about this. Oh, I knew how I felt—sad, happy and slightly afraid. Angry, too. I wanted to rant and rave about being locked up in that place while she flirted across dimensions, but how could I do that when flirting was something I could do anytime I wanted and she was the one trapped and unable to reach out? And why was I so afraid that she would abandon me for Kevin, when she couldn’t abandon me?

  So maybe what I was feeling was worry. Nothing good could come of this. They could chat and flirt and do whatever it was they were doing. He might tell himself that he couldn’t hurt her because she was dead. They might even tell themselves nothing could come of it, but someday Kevin was going to meet a living, breathing girl and break my sister’s heart.

  I was still pissed that she hadn’t told me about him. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  She sat back down on the bed, barely disturbing the blankets. “Haven’t you ever wanted something just for yourself?”

  “Not really,” I replied. “I’ve always had you, so I didn’t need another secret.” I’d thought that I was enough for her, too. Just me and Wren against the world, right?

  Wren smiled. “Kevin’s the only person other than you who ever heard me.” Then her smile faded. “Those times when you shut me out, or were too drugged to acknowledge me, I went to him. You’d never left me before—not like that. He made me feel less alone, and he made me believe that you would come back.”

  Great, so now I owed him for that. More important, I owed Wren. I swallowed against the lump in my throat. “I didn’t mean to leave you, I just let them make me forget for a little while.” Lame.

  “And then you wanted to protect me from the ghosts.”

  I nodded. “Then that.” Several of the more malicious ghosts in Bell Hill had decided that they wanted Wren to join them, become one of them. There’d been a time when I’d been terrified they would succeed, and that she would leave me forever to be a vicious, hurtful thing. It wasn’t something I liked to think about. That was why the vision of her with the eyeballs had really freaked me out.

  “Are you mad at me?”

  “No.” I meant it. Maybe I was jealous or whatever, because even my dead sister seemed to be able to get a guy, but I wasn’t mad.

  Cool fingers curled around mine. “How are your hands?”

  I opened them up so she could look. The cuts weren’t so angry anymore and were already scabbing over.

  “You could have gotten hurt.”

  “Nah,” I argued. “Not during the first dance. It just wanted to check me out. I don’t imagine Haven Crest has seen anything like us before.”

  “Do you suppose anyone has seen sisters like us before?”

  “I don’t know. Probably?” I mean we were pretty freaky, but we couldn’t be the first or only ones. Could we? “I mean, there have been twins in dad’s family before.”

  Wren tilted her head. “I wonder...” Apparently that was all she was going to say.

  “Mmm.” I glanced at the clock. It was getting late. “I should do a little research on Haven Crest.”

  “Can I help?”

  “You can rub my feet.”

  She rolled her eyes at me, but that didn’t stop her from schooching down to the bottom of the bed and setting one of my feet in her lap. I sighed. Wren gave the best foot rubs.

  An hour later, my eyelids starting to droop after reading crap account after crap account of “spirit activity” at Haven Crest, I bolted upright. “I found something.”

  Wren looked up from her own reading. She liked to read my textbooks and was already deep into the play we had to read in English class. “What?”

  “It’s from a diary of a girl named Maybelline Scout who was born in 1900. ‘May 2, 1918—Recently I visited my friend Anne at Haven Crest hospital. She’s been in a steady decline since the death of her fiancé, Russell, fighting the Germans.’” I glanced up. “Anne would have been sixteen or seventeen at that time. Can you imagine being engaged at that age?”

  Wren shrugged. “Iloana was fourteen when she married her first husband.”

  Iloana was an old woman Wren sometimes talked to. She’d had several husbands apparently. I often wondered if Iloana hadn’t helped all of her misters into their graves.

  “Keep reading,” my sister commanded.

  “‘My sister Honoria, who was always sensitive to spirits, was with me, which resulted in being a horrible mistake. A few unpleasant spirits haunting the hospital found Honoria and began to make sport of her—and poor Anne, whose mental state was already frail. I had never seen a ghost before that day, but I saw that one as clear as glass—a man with a straight razor...’” I stopped. Swallowed. My tongue was suddenly dry as sand. “‘...hurt my sister badly, and provoked her to the point that she attacked both Anne and myself with a sort of violence uncharacteristic of my dear sister even at her worst. I struck the spirit with a poker from the fireplace, which banished it, but not before it left me with a vicious wound for my trouble. As for Honoria, it took two days for her to return to herself. Anne, I’m afraid, never recovered, her sanity quite undone by the experience.”

  Silence hung between us, thick and tense.

  “That doesn’t mean it will happen to me,” Wren protested.

  “No?” I looked her right in the eye. “Wren, if the ghost did that to someone who was alive but sensitive, what will it do to you?”

  She scowled. “Nothing worse than what it might do to you,” she shot back. “That girl was obviously unprepared for the sort of energy that saturates places like Haven Crest. After Bell Hill, I know to take precautions.”

  “Do you?” I asked. “I don’t mean to be a bitch, but neither of us have gone up against anything like this before. Bell Hill was a relatively new facility, with modern treatments. We’re going to be walking into a place that lobotomized people with a spike through the eye, chained them up like beasts and performed experiments on their patients like they were little more than lab rats. There’s going to be a lot of pain and suffering.”

  My sister looked me dead in the
eye with a gaze that told me not to bother arguing. “We don’t have a choice, Lark.”

  “Sure we do. We don’t go.”

  Wren’s eyes widened. “We can’t do that!”

  “Yeah,” I said with a humorless laugh, “we can.”

  “We promised them we’d help them!”

  “No promise is worth putting you in danger—putting both of us in danger. It’s stupid.”

  “It could kill them.”

  “Only if it gets really bad.” Even as I spoke I cringed. I sounded like such a cow.

  “We can stop it. We’re the only people who can.”

  I looked at her. “Why do you care? It’s not like Kevin was with them. He’ll be fine.”

  “The rest of them won’t be.”

  “It’s their own fault.”

  She bristled. My bed trembled. “I can’t believe you’d be so cruel.”

  “You going to freak out?” I goaded. “This is what I’m worried about, Wren. You can’t even keep your shit together with me. How are you going to stand up against dozens of angry ghosts? We’re not going in.”

  Wren went still—statue still. No human could be so motionless. “Even at my worst I’ll still stand up better against any number of ghosts than they will alone. And you will, too. We’re doing this, Lark. We’re not going to lose the first friends we’ve had in a long time.”

  And that was how she won the argument, because she was right. “We’ll need to make sure we take extra precautions—and teach them how to protect themselves, too. Maybe your boyfriend knows something helpful.”

  She brightened at the mention of him. Silently, I gagged. I was self-aware enough to know I was jealous. Come on, there had to be something wrong if your dead sister got more play than you did.

  “I’m going to bed,” I announced. “It’s late.” I wasn’t really tired, but I didn’t want to talk anymore—argue anymore.

  My sister looked disappointed. After sixteen years I’d think she’d be used to me having to sleep. “I guess I’ll keep reading.” She’d loved books ever since she realized that all she had to do to read them was phase into them. I wasn’t sure how it worked, and I didn’t care so long as it kept her entertained.