Spirit [New Crescent 2] (BookStrand Publishing Romance) (17 page)

This year, in the spirit of the season, Travis, Sam, and Chase were creating a haunted mansion in the guest house on the Sinclair property. Each new idea topped the last until the project began taking on mammoth proportions. The three men were having so much fun competing with each other over who could create the scariest monster and devising ever more elaborate tricks. It was bound to become an annual thing.

Gillian was a successful graphic designer, so Ruth Sinclair, her future mother-in-law made use of her services. The announcements were beautiful. Gillian showed Reggie the mock-ups and smiled when she guessed which one Ruth had chosen. It wasn’t the most elegant design or the most edgy. It was certainly the most fun, and that spirit fit the event to a tee. Gillian and Reggie both approved Ruth’s decision.

“Have you decided what costume you’re going to wear?” Gillian asked Reggie.

“Yeah. I figured since Chase has resurrected my nickname, Crash, I’d go as a victim of my own driving. Should be easy and comfortable. How about you?”

Gillian grimaced. “Mine’s so lame. I’m going to go as a fortune teller.”

Reggie laughed with delight. “That’s perfect. You’ve been accepted as a Guardian. What better costume. Ernestine always goes as a witch. She says it’s the only day of the year she shows her true self. When we were younger, we believed her.”

Gillian laughed. “Not so far from the truth.”

Time passed too quickly when they were together, and it wasn’t long before Reggie and Pru had to leave. Gillian and Hank walked their guests to the car. Before Reggie opened the car door, Gillian held her hand and said, “Be careful girl. You cannot let your guard down with what’s in that library. Please don’t drink alcohol. Don’t cloud your judgment until this is done.”

Reggie frowned at her friend. “Sure. I don’t drink much anyway. It won’t be tough to resist the demon alcohol. I’ll stick to the crack-cocaine.” She giggled, raised her right hand and put her left on her heart. “Don’t worry, Gillian. I swear to stay absolutely sober until the Voldemort in the library is defeated.”

Pru jumped in the backseat and they were off.

Chase was waiting for her when she got back to Bennett House. They talked briefly about strategy before entering the library.

“At first, let’s keep physical contact with each other. Since we’ve been told repeatedly that we have to face this thing together then I want to make our solidarity a physical thing,” He said.

Reggie nodded. “I agree. I also think we should be as assertive as possible. You know, act strong and you will be.”

“I like that. How do you want to start?”

“Chase, I need you to trust me to speak first. I haven’t figured out exactly what I’m going to say yet. Something tells me that when the time comes, I’ll know.”

He didn’t hesitate. “Okay, but if you get into trouble, don’t expect me to stand by and hope you can handle him on your own.”

“Good, I have no problem with being rescued when necessary.”

They smiled at each other. Chase moved to the hallway, but Reggie stopped him. She put her arms around him and turned her face up for his kiss. He didn’t disappoint her. When he was done, her lips were swollen, and she blinked more than once. Her heart beat wildly, not with fear, but with excitement. They were ready.

* * * *

The rush had been almost sexual. When that man hit the ground with force, he’d felt a sweet ecstasy not unlike what he’d experienced when taking a young innocent. And there were so many delicious ways to take. Fear and pain gave him pleasure. He’d grown strong from the suffering of others in the past, and he would again. He’d learned that it was always more satisfying when the pain was mental and physical, like taking virginity not freely offered. That was a special agony endured only once in a girl’s life…well, almost. With his renewed strength would come memory. For now, he could only vaguely remember what his life had been like. What had pleased him and what had angered him. The other’s soul searing anguish had been exquisite, but merely recalling it wasn’t enough. He had to have more. His craven yearning was a bottomless bowel that had raged impotently when he’d sensed a coming light, a glistening hope that could end him and others of his ilk. For now, he’d not rise to their challenge. Discipline. He didn’t like the word when applied to his own desires, but power needed to be conserved and used when it was most advantageous. And unexpected. He would not underestimate his enemies. Triumph would soon be within his grasp. He would be unstoppable.

.

Chapter 17

Standing at the threshold of the hallway that led to the library, Reggie held onto Chase’s hand and savored the adrenalin. She smiled at him and bravely walked to the double doors. She’d forgotten what the rancid air had felt like as she breathed it in and gasped. It felt infectious. A part of her mind cringed and gagged in reaction, but she pushed it away. She would not let the feeling take hold. It was just a trick, pathetic really. Sharing a glance with Chase, she could tell he felt the same way.

“It’s not so bad. It gets easier. Maybe the Big Bad isn’t nearly so big nor so bad.”

She laughed and Chase joined her. Their laughter gave them a small rush of power. Excitement crackled between them. Everything shared made them stronger, and that knowledge helped them to open both doors with ease

Forcing herself to resist the temptation to turn tail and run, Reggie concentrated on what she could see. At one time, the library must have been the most beautiful room in the house. A majestic curved mahogany staircase led to the second level, and every wall was lined with shelves from floor to ceiling. Most of the books were gone or completely beyond redemption, but the shelves had withstood the harsh test of time. They could be salvaged. The fireplace was made of the same mahogany as the stairs and the shelves. The creative side of Reggie’s nature imagined just how impressive it would look when restored properly. Once she’d filled the shelves with books, Reggie knew she’d have to hire someone who could design a system of sliding ladders. When fully renovated and decorated, this room would be her masterpiece.

Clutching Chase’s hand, Reggie shook her head with sadness. What once must have been glorious was now covered in mold, mildew, and a strange greasy dust. Work on this room would be a mission of mercy.

Surprised that she could think of anything other than what they were about to face, Reggie forced her wayward mind to concentrate on what was to come. Just stepping over the threshold took courage. She heard a strange hissing noise and looked at Chase to see if he’d heard it too. She didn’t have to ask him. His look told her everything. He could hear it, and he didn’t like it.

“Duncan’s guys sure didn’t make much progress in here,” Chase said.

“They were only in here one day. I think they tossed out a truckload of books damaged beyond repair. Anything worth money had been cleared out long ago.”

Feeling chilled to the bone, Reggie shivered. Chase pulled her close and put his arm around her, trying to warm her. She shook her head. “I feel chilled from the inside. Don’t you?”

He nodded. “Strange, it’s like an emotional and physical cold. How can that be?”

“I don’t know, but I’m not giving in to it even if I have to drag out my parka and earmuffs.”

She looked up at him. His jaw was set. He nodded at her.

She took a deep breath and spoke loudly with purpose. “This house belongs to the living. Life will restore it. The past is done. You hold no sway over the future. Vincent Bennett, we will not let you take from us. You will get no more power from the living. You must go.”

The hissing got louder, almost deafening. It felt like it came from inside her head. For a split second, she imagined a snake wrapping itself around her head and sliding into her ears, nose, and mouth. She rejected the vision. She was inviolate. The only warmth she could feel came from where Chase’s body maintained contact with hers, but she didn’t shiver. She wouldn’t give it the satisfaction of seeing her react.

Taking strength from Chase’s solid form, Reggie resisted the depressing weight of hopelessness that settled around her. She wanted to give up, to leave this room to whatever force possessed it. That urge was almost irresistible, but she fought it back. The effort sapped her energy, and she felt weak and dizzy. The room swam before her eyes, and wave after wave of black sorrow struck her like battering rams. She understood that it was an attack, a battle plan. This feeling didn’t come from within her. Clever how the enemy used her own emotions to defeat her, she thought absently. Stalemate? No, she wasn’t alone in this. She had a secret weapon. She looked up at Chase and could see the trust he had in her. He believed in her, and that confidence shone in his eyes.

Her eyes locked with his and she knew she could do it. From deep in her belly, she dragged out a burgeoning power and pushed back hard, throwing the depression off and out. The blood rushed through her veins. She imagined a lightning type force and threw it at the source of the hissing. They heard a deafening crack, then silence.

Chase spoke in a whisper. “Either the air cleared a little or I’m getting used to it because I find it easier to breath now. The smell isn’t quite so strong.” He looked down at Reggie and reacted immediately. She was dead on her feet, using his solid stance like a life preserver.

He swept her up in his arms. In a deep and firm voice, he addressed the entity. “You do not belong here! Go, or be destroyed! You will grow weaker every day, and we will grow stronger. We will never give up. You will never win!” His words were met with silence, but this time, the air cleared completely. Rich with oxygen, it felt sweet and the atmosphere in the room lightened.

Reggie smiled at him as she rested her head on his shoulder. With her spirit down, but never out she said weakly, “Not bad Poindexter, but I could really go for pie right now.” She giggled.

He joined her. Their laughter helped to restore her strength, but Chase still held her in his arms, rooted to the spot. They glanced around. In that moment, the library looked and felt just like any other room in the house. It was filthy and sorely in need of a face lift, but it was just a normal room.

In a voice that was almost her own, Reggie said, “I think we can go. We’ve won this round.” For now, the thing was at bay. She didn’t know why or how, and it gave her no sense of relief, but they’d done what was needed for today.

Chase didn’t put her down until they reached the living room. She smiled when he put her back on her feet instead of on the couch. He knew her so well. Holding her elbows, he stepped back. “Are you okay?”

She nodded, and he said, “Good, I’ll go get the pie.”

* * * *

In the kitchen, Chase grabbed a chair and sat down heavily. He took a deep breath, waiting for his heartbeat to slow. Reggie couldn’t see his weakness. She’d needed his support. She’d been magnificent, a fearless Amazon…no…with her coloring, more like a Valkyrie.

With a rueful grin, he knew that if asked he’d have to admit that when they’d been in that room, he’d played Robin to her Batman. He could live with that as long as she was ok. His grin turned into a full fledged smile. White hats one, black hats zero. They’d beaten that thing back for now. He’d take what he could get. With that realization came satisfaction. He felt better. Now where did he put that pie?

* * * *

Sitting on the couch with Pru at her feet, Reggie put a hand to her stomach. She’d called upon strength from her belly. How odd, she mused. Who would have thought to go there? Then she thought, maybe that’s the best place for her to find strength what with her appetite and all. She took a steadying breath as that same stomach lurched. The nausea hit so fast and so violently, she barely made it to the powder room.

When she came back into the living room, Chase said, “I was just coming to check on you. Are you okay?” He looked at her, puzzled.

Strangely, she felt absolutely fine. Reggie’s face was glowing. This was not the complexion of a weak or ill woman. She looked vibrant and healthy.

With a bemused smile, she said, “You know, if you’d asked me that question five minutes ago I would have said, ‘No, I’m sick. Fix it.’ But at this moment, I feel just great.”

She saw the tray he’d brought in. He’d heated the pie and brought ice cream.
Was there ever a better man?
Reggie mused. “Yummy, pie.”

He waited until they’d both got about halfway through the pie before speaking. “I guess we won that round, huh?”

She nodded, her mouth full. After swallowing, she said, “Yeah, but I don’t feel triumphant. It was too easy.”

“You call that easy?” Incredulous, he pinned her with a blue gaze, “Damn it, Reggie, what you did in there buckled your knees. If truth be told, it almost buckled mine too.”

“He was strong. Yes, but not as strong as he was before. That concerns me. I would have thought that after what he did to Sam, he’d be pretty powerful right now.”

Chase nodded. “You’re right, either he’s using his strength in a way we haven’t discovered yet or he was holding back. I don’t like the sound of either possibility.”

Sipping the peppermint tea he’d been so clever to brew, she agreed with him. “We’d better find out which it is because I don’t think we can afford to let him get the upper hand.” She stood. “I’m going to talk to Constance.”