Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
We gathered in the living room, where Sophia was leaning back in a recliner, her eyes closed. I glanced at Orik.
“She’s shielding,” he said, his voice low.
We settled around her, waiting. After a few moments, she opened her eyes and sat up.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Yeah, I am now. I thought I was prepared, but I had no clue how strong these entities would be. And there are definitely more than one of them, but I feel like the one in the attic is the strongest.”
“Can you tell if they’re ghosts or spirits or say…a god?” I asked.
Sophia squinted, then said, “I probably could if I opened myself up more, but I’ll guarantee you that it would be able to jump me. And I don’t want some unknown entity jumping me.”
“I don’t blame you. What were you able to figure out?” Dante asked.
“Well,” she said, “I think there are at least seven entities here, and I believe five of them are spirits. The other three—I’m not sure. They could be astral entities, they could be demonic, they could be something I’m unfamiliar with. I don’t think they’re gods. If they were, they would have been able to jump me.”
“So, spirits, and entities. I wish I could tell which ones are the spirits, but I’m just starting to come into my powers with ghosts.” I frowned. “You’d think I’d be able to sense other demons, but again, at this point, I’m not all that familiar with the energy of most demons, though I think…I might be able to sense someone from the Arosien Clan, now. Though…maybe not. Seton told me that I’ve got a long way to go, and I have to be patient.”
“Seton?” Michael turned to me, a question in his eyes.
“I suppose you have the right to know,” I said, sighing. “I’m half-demon.”
He stared at me for a moment and I expected him to melt down. “I imagine that demons are as varied as humans and shifters, right?”
Grateful for his open mind, I nodded. “That holds true through most races, I think. Demons may be more temperamental and dangerous, but not always, and those of us who are half-blood, well, we could easily take after our human sides. Or shifters, or whatever.”
“So, let’s start setting up our equipment,” Orik said. “We can gather more information this way, and hopefully figure out how to counter them.”
“What kind of equipment are you setting up?” Michael asked.
“Cameras capable of catching images of spirits, EVP recorders—electronic voice phenomenon recorders, CSRs—cold spot recorders. They monitor minute changes in temperatures through the whole room, and capture it on an infrared image. We also have a few other goodies—a magical alarm that goes off when spirits cross its path.” Orik stood. “I’ll start getting things ready. Dante, want to help me?”
Dante followed him out to the car, leaving Sophia and me with Michael.
“How are you doing? Really ?” I asked, catching his gaze and holding it.
After a moment’s silence, he coughed, his shoulders slumping forward. “Honestly? I’ve been better. I saw the kids last night. My wife wants to sell, but we don’t have the money. She says we’ll take the loss and live with her parents. I don’t know if I can face it. They already look at me like a loser.”
A chill ran down my back and I immediately flashed to Jack Farquar, who had lived in this house and killed his entire family for the same reason.
Sophia leaned forward. “Michael, you have to be careful. With your mood, you’re opening yourself up to them. The more depressed you get, the more of an opening they’ll have. Move out. Go stay with your family, go stay in a hotel, it doesn’t matter. Don’t spend another night here.”
He stared at her, unsmiling. “I don’t know if I can do that. I don’t know that I can afford a hotel, but going to stay with my in-laws?”
“Don’t let your ego get in the way. I know it stings, but it’s dangerous for you—and ultimately, your family—for you to be here any longer. Let us figure out what’s going on. You, take care of yourself and your family.” Sophia leaned forward. “I implore you. I’m an oracle. I may not be able to tell you what’s invading your home, but I can see glimpses of the future. If you stay here, you’ll die and join the spirits who are trapped here.”
At that, he straightened, an alarmed look crossing his face. “What?”
“I’m serious,” Sophia said. “I can see parts of your timeline and if you stay in this house, while it’s haunted, you won’t make it out.”
That seemed to spark a fire under him. “I’ll call my wife,” he said, paling.
As he walked over to the corner to call his wife, I turned to Sophia. “Are you serious?” I mouthed.
“Deadly,” she whispered back.
A moment later, Michael returned to where we were sitting. “I’ll pack a bag and go stay with them. Would you like me to leave the keys with you? I suppose I shouldn’t re-enter the house until you tell us it’s clear.”
“Please do. In fact, why don’t you give us the keys now and go. The sooner you leave, the less hold these entities will have on you.” I held out my hand. “I guarantee we’ll lock up and make sure everything’s secure. My company is bonded, by the way.”
“I’m not concerned about that. My kids and my wife need me. I don’t dare stay if this is putting my life in danger.” Michael stood, taking a deep breath. He took his house key off the keychain and handed it to me.
I clipped it onto my keychain and pointed toward the door. “Go on. Take off now. We’ll call you with news as soon as we have any.”
He picked up his bag and waved, heading for the door. As he reached for the doorknob, a loud crash came from upstairs. Michael paused, then left the house. A moment later, the guys returned, Orik pushing a dolly that had a fuckton of equipment on it.
Dante followed, carrying still more. “Michael said he’s leaving?”
“Sophia sensed that if he stays, whatever is here will kill him and he’ll be trapped in the house with the other spirits. We told him to swallow his pride and go stay with his family, because they need him.” I stood. “Okay, let’s get these cameras set up.”
We set up cameras in all three bedrooms, one in the attic, one in the kitchen and one in the living room. Then, Orik set up the EVP recorders and the other equipment. Dante helped him test everything and we were ready to go.
“We can access these remotely?” I asked.
“Yep, we’ll be able to monitor everything from the office,” Orik said. “Now, can we get the hell out of here? This place gives me the creeps.”
“Me too,” I said. “Okay, let me make certain the kitchen door is locked and we’ll leave.” I headed into the kitchen and, as I reached to check the door, there was a loud noise and I turned to see a skillet sailing directly toward my head. I yelped, ducking, as the skillet went over my head with inches to spare. “Dante!”
Another noise and a glass slammed into my arm, shattering as it hit me. A shard lodged in my bicep and I yelped again, trying to pinpoint where my opponent was. But the trouble with spirits was that you couldn’t target them, especially if you couldn’t see them.
Dante and Orik burst into the kitchen. I turned to tell them what happened when Orik tackled me, knocking me down. As we fell to the floor, a fork shot past, right where I had been standing. It would have plunged into my heart if I’d still been standing.
“Crap—out! We need to get out of here.” I scrambled up, motioning toward the living room. “We’ll check the door from the outside.” I didn’t even notice the pain in my arm, so much adrenaline was flowing through my veins.
We grabbed Sophia and then, once outside, made sure both kitchen and front doors were locked. As we headed back to the car, I glanced over my shoulder. We knew now that we were being watched, and that whoever was haunting that house, saw us as the enemy.
The snow was still falling as we reached my car. It wasn’t piling up quickly, but it was sticking and the cold, crisp air cleared my senses.
Once in the car, Sophia drove while Dante and I sat in the back. Dante examined my arm. “I’m going to have to extract this glass once we get back to the office. It’s lodged deeply. In fact, we should stop at the doctor. It may require stitches.”
I impatiently shook my head. “I can yank it out?—”
“You will not ,” Dante said. “You’re not invincible and you know it. Yes, we could probably yank it out, but honestly? You need a new scar like you need another hole in your head, and I’m not talking about a new piercing. Sophia, can you stop at Urgent Care?—”
“We’re near Dr. Lana’s. I think she’s open.” I reached for my phone with my wrong arm and groaned. Dante retrieved it from my purse.
“What’s her name?”
“Dr. Lana Neilstrom.”
“Here it is.” He punched in her number and turned it on speaker phone. He held the phone up for me.
“Dr. Neilstrom’s office. May I help you?”
I recognized Ronette’s voice. She’d been with Dr. Lana for years, and she sounded far younger than she was. She kept things running smoothly for the doctor.
“Hey, Ronette. Kyann Sarasan here. I was wondering if the doctor could see me for a little emergency right now?” I hated taking up her time, but Dante was probably right.
“What’s wrong?” Ronette asked.
“I have a shard of glass lodged deeply in my arm, and we’re near the office right now. I don’t want to sit in Urgent Care when other people are probably?—”
“ Worse off than you . Right. Hold on, let me talk to the doctor.” She put me on hold as we came to a red light. Sophia eased on the brakes, gently bringing the car to a stop. The traffic was light—not many people wanted to drive in the snow.
“Kyann? Dr. Lana said come on in. She’s can see you, if you can get here in twenty minutes.”
“We’re about five minutes away,” I said. “See you in a few.” I gave Sophia instructions to the doctor’s office, and we were on our way.
Dr. Lana was waiting for me. “What did you do?” she asked as I came in the door. My arm was streaked with blood by this point. She escorted me back to an examination room.
“I was on the receiving end of a glass that a ghost threw at me. I didn’t duck in time.” I grimaced. “I wanted to pull it out but Dante convinced me it might be wise if I sought medical attention.”
“Up on the table,” she said.
I hopped up on the table, using my good arm to brace myself. “Anyway, yeah. So, we were near here and I decided to?—”
“Put your arm on this, please,” she said, interrupting. She slid an adjustable table over to where I was sitting and raised it to where my elbow could rest on it.
“I feel like an idiot,” I said. “It sounds ridiculous when?—”
“Hush, let me look at this.” She glanced at me, then grinned. “You don’t have to explain away an injury. You’re hurt, I’m a doctor. It isn’t rocket science.”
I quieted down. I tended to ramble when I was nervous or embarrassed, and I wasn’t sure why, but I was feeling insecure. Maybe it was that I hadn’t noticed the glass before it hit. Maybe it was that I’d been unprepared when I went in the kitchen alone. Or maybe, I was thrown off by the magnitude of the activity in Michael’s house
The doctor carefully washed around the wound, then applied some sort of antiseptic. After she had examined the wound thoroughly, she began easing the glass out of my arm. It had been deeply embedded, and the blood began to flow, but the shard came out in one piece. At least, I thought it did. She set the piece—which was at least two inches in diameter—on the tray next to her, and then—putting on a magnifying headset—began examining the wound. That stung more than the actual glass. But, after a moment, she took off the glasses and began to irrigate the wound.
“I don’t see any residue shards, so that’s good. I’ll clean this, stitch it, and get you on your way.” She paused, retrieving an antibiotic wash, which she began squeezing into the wound. “So, a ghost got you?”
“Yeah. We’re on a case—it’s bad—and either a poltergeist, or ghost, or whatever it is, decided that I wasn’t welcome. It threw a fork at me, which I missed, thanks to Orik. It threw a couple other things at me, but the glass, I didn’t see coming.” I said, frustrated. “I don’t know if we’re going to be able to solve this one. It’s one of the nastiest cases we’ve had, I’m beginning to think.”
And right there, I realized what was bothering me. I didn’t know if we could handle this case. And, if we couldn’t, I suspected that Michael would move back in, which might lead to the destruction of his family. And I’d feel responsible.
Dr. Lana began to stitch the wound shut. “These are self-dissolving stitches. You won’t need to have them removed. I’ll spray on an invisible bandage and you’ll be good to go. It will wear off in about a week and, unless you notice any inflammation or infection, you won’t need it rechecked.” She finished with the stitches, then gave it a spray of the liquid bandage. “I don’t know a lot about ghosts, but I can tell you this: if it’s strong enough to throw and embed a glass that deep in your arm, you’ve got a fight on your hands. Be careful, please.”
I glanced at the wound. Gnarly, but it was stitched up and I was ready to go. “Yeah, I thought about that. I don’t know, doc…You were able to help me with the demonologist—Seton’s been so helpful. You don’t know any good exorcists, do you?”
She laughed, nodding for me to jump off the table. “No, I’m afraid I don’t. Okay, you’re good to go.”
As I left the office, stopping to pay my copay to Ronette, it occurred to me that maybe Penn would be able to tell. She was a witch, after all, and part Fae. She might be able to help us—or find someone who could. One way or another, I wanted to help Michael and his family. They couldn’t afford to lose the house. And I didn’t want to admit defeat.