Chapter Thirteen
Autumn has set up a circle in the grass just outside the fence line. It’s almost dark, and there’s a soft wind blowing down from the mountains. She shivers just a tad, then pours what looks like salt around the perimeter before getting out her sage sticks.
I haven’t been outside like this in a while, so I’m taking it all in, staring over at my Blake with nothing but adoration. It’s because of him and Drac that I get to stretch my legs, my boundaries limitless at the moment.
“Here,” Phantom whispers, taking off his cut so she can wear it. “You look cold.”
Did he? Oh, hell no! Not the cut. Not the one thing I was after for most of my living days. “Take it off, Autumn, take it off right now before I rip it off you.”
She ignores me, her eyes determined and focused on the task at hand. “Thanks, Blake.”
“Oh, now you think you can call him Blake too? I swear, if I were within throwing distance of something, you’d be pelted in that perfect little forehead right now.”
She takes his cut, clutching it like a prize before slipping it on over her worn sweatshirt.
Memories of what that cut smelled like roam through my mind.
The leather mixing with motor oil and the faint smell of smoke.
The musky cologne he only wore on special occasions, the one that reminded me of the woods at night and sunsets working overtime.
It’s bigger than her, but it looks right, like it was always meant to be on her.
I haven’t been able to cry since passing, but now, staring at her wearing the cut I tried so desperately for him to give me, I can’t help but feel a strange sadness, one so overwhelming I must turn away for a few seconds to compose myself.
When I turn back, Blake slides into the grass beside her, pressing his palm against the small of her back.
Warmth blooms where skin meets skin, a touch I long for and will never feel again.
The night stretches out like a ribbon just for them, showing promise of a future I once believed in.
Now I just bitterly stand in the field away from them, the wind from the mountain rolling over my shoulders, as his soft hand gently moves her hair out of the cut and off her neck.
She lights a stick of sage, and the smoke curls up into the fading sunlight, the smell swirling around them like a tornado of protection. It’s the one smell that somehow teeters between worlds, and I’ve suddenly become allergic to its existence.
Drac, Drac’s wife Amber, Voorhees, Krampus, and a few others sit just outside the circle of salt, all of them looking around like they’re either skeptic or afraid.
Autumn’s knees dig into the earth as she leans over the board, and she closes her eyes, praying silently to herself.
She meets Phantom’s gaze and smiles, setting off a chain of events where he’s smiling back, they hold each other’s gazes for far too long, and then their hands link for a few seconds before dropping them.
The only thing separating them is the Ouija board set on top of an old empty trunk, and me, because I honestly don’t know how much more I can take.
After the other night on her stoop, watching them through the window as they shared that first kiss, I’ve been more protective of him, doing my best to keep them apart.
This is the first day since that night that they’ve seen each other, and she keeps blushing and batting her eyes like a whore in heat.
“Alright, sister, that’s enough of the googly eyes. Keep that shit up, and I’ll stick this planchette through your eye.”
She must’ve shut herself off, because she doesn’t move, just stares at the board in front of her, taking a few deep breaths as she whips the sage around and over the board, blessing it before she makes another move.
“Can we move this along? I don’t have all damn day!”
Damien appears behind Drac, but he doesn’t say anything. Just watches, his eyes flicking from me to the board and back, almost like he’s afraid.
She finally sets the planchette on top. It’s not like the normal ones you see in party favor games made of cheap plastic or silly cardboard.
The planchette, like the board itself, is made of worn wood, with a clear glass eye in the middle.
There are scribblings along the wood, incantations of protection you don’t normally see on a spirit board.
“Okay,” she whispers. “I call upon any spirits to come forward. If anyone wishes to speak with us—those without hostility and malice, I implore you to come forward.”
A door opens, allowing any spirit to pass through and have the floor.
I’m guessing it’s the one she uses to shut spirits out, because I can feel her now, her presence jarring and unwelcome.
Part of me wants to rush towards it, especially when Phantom’s hand brushes hers, and a warm blush creeps through her cheeks.
Phantom and the others place their fingers on the planchette, their touch feather light and purposeful. It’s a silent vow that they’re in this together, no matter what the outcome.
Autumn takes a deep breath, the air thickening around us. Even the wind seems to be holding its breath for her.
“What now?” I shout, trying to take over their little telephone party. But my voice is lost in the void. They didn’t come here to talk to me; they came to talk to her, the girl hovering just outside the fence line, waiting for permission to step forward.
Ghosts are like vampires; we like invites.
“Pippa,” Autumn says in a deep, low voice. “Pippa Kippingler, I know you’re out there. You’ve been trying to get my attention; now’s your chance to speak. We invite you to come forward. Speak to us.”
Someone pushes me from behind, almost knocking me down onto one of the candles. “Move, bitch!” She barks, trying to march past me.
“And who the fuck do you think you are?”
The girl turns, her neck half broken, staring at me with eyes so helplessly lost that it almost makes me feel bad for her. I bet in her previous life she was beautiful as fuck, but that doesn’t really matter now. Especially when her eyes narrow, making me feel smaller than what I am.
“I’m the only ghost who matters,” she growls. “Now get the fuck out of my way.”
“You could’ve asked nicely,” I grump, folding my arms in annoyance.
She blinks a few times before she smirks. “Now where’s the fun in that?”
She suddenly appears inside the circle, switching off her bitch mode as she stares down at the board with a solemn look in her eyes. There’s that lost look again, the one that looks like she’s spent years searching for a peace she’ll never find.
Her eyes lift for a few seconds, lingering on Drac, her entire spirit melting at his presence.
She tries to caress his face, but Autumn’s barrier protects him, and the woman he’s holding with all his might. I can see why. The second her eyes dart to Drac’s wife Amber, she changes, the features of her face arcing menacingly into a scowl as she bends down and attempts to connect with them.
Then the planchette jerks beneath their fingers, causing them all to gasp.
Phantom’s mouth moves, but no sound comes out. He looks over at Autumn, studying her face, gauging her reaction. But she’s in a trance, a voice filling her head.
“Pippa’s here,” Autumn whispers. “I think she’s just afraid.”
She closes her eyes again, her breath quickening. “I feel you here with us, Pippa. Your soul speaks to me. Let me be your voice. Speak to us.”
The planchette moves slowly, crawling to each letter before moving on to the next. The letters spell: HELLO
“That’s it? Hello? Come on, Pippa, you can do better than that.”
Her eyes snap my way, and I don’t like how she looks at me. Almost like she’s searing through my soul with her burning gaze.
Autumn’s voice is deeper now, hollow. Like she’s standing in a tunnel and shouting from the farthest side. Then her eyes darken, her voice strangled and possessed by another.
“Hello, Eddie,” she mumbles.
“Pippa?” Drac questions, looking nervously at Autumn who’s doing some weird rocking thing where her whole body swivels in place.
The planchette settles over the word YES, then stops moving again.
“Hello, Eddie,” Autumn repeats, her eyes pinched shut like she’s in pain.
“Hello, Pippa,” he copies, only to swallow nervously. “Pippa, why are you here? What do you want?”
“You,” Autumn whispers. “Always you.”
Drac frowns, as does Amber. “Pippa, I’ve told you before, I love Amber, not—”
Autumn suddenly rips up to her feet. “YOU THINK I DON’T FUCKING KNOW THAT!” Her eyes are still closed, but she’s completely possessed by Pippa’s spirit.
Phantom’s brow etches into one of concern. “I’m gonna call this shit off if this fucking ghost doesn’t stop her shit.”
Then Autumn sits back down, returning to that strange rocking motion she was doing before.
“If you already knew that, then why did you want to talk?” Amber asks nervously.
Autumn smirks. “Isn’t it obvious, Amber? I wanted to talk to him, but he had to bring you.”
She settles down a bit, that depressing sag to her shoulders a dead giveaway. Pippa’s presence is smaller than I expected—quieter. She’s not as badass as everyone made her out to be. She honestly looks sad, like she’s incomplete and lost in the afterlife.
“I’m sorry,” Amber squeaks. “I—I can go.”
“No!” Drac demands. “You’re not going to let her come between us again. Whatever she has to say, she’ll say to both of us.”
Pippa doesn’t seem to like his answer, but instead of fighting them on it, she turns back to Autumn, focusing on getting in her head until that strange voice takes over, and she’s clutching her stomach like she’s getting sick.
“I didn’t come here to fight,” Autumn informs them. “I came for something else…”
“For what?” Drac asks, clutching Amber’s hand so tight, I’m surprised he’s not breaking it.
Autumn blinks, her head slightly rolling to the side, mirroring Pippa’s broken stance. “For closure. To say sorry for everything. For hurting you. For hurting her. For breaking you two up over jealousy.”