The Possession (16 page)

“That’s not true,” I cried, but it came out a murmur instead of full throated.

“Really?” Zach stood and pulled a piece of paper from his back pocket. He pressed it into my hand. “Then what’s that?”

I unfolded the paper. “First of all, it’s not even my handwriting.” I would not admit the paper looked awfully familiar. As I read along, my stomach sank. I knew the words. I had seen them in a dream of Dorothea writing in her journal.

Something is wrong in the woods. The workers have erred yet they do not respond to my inquiry. I have asked Mother what she knows of it. She remains silent. They will separate Vincent from his child and that will not do.

“Where did you get this?” I leapt to my feet, “Have you found the journal? Zach?”

He crossed his arms. “You gave it to me, Daphne.”

“I did not. Where did you get it?”

“From you. This afternoon.”

I blinked. “But I didn’t see you this afternoon.”

“Yes, you did. I came by because of, you know, what happened at the beach and all. You were sitting on the porch with the journal I gave you, writing like mad. Then you tore out this page and folded it, thanked me for coming, and asked me to give ‘your missive’ to Vincent’s oldest brother.”

Backing up until the swing hit my legs, I sank down onto it, staring at the paper. “No.”

“Yes. You kept looking around like you thought you’d get caught, then went into the house and slammed the door in my face.”

“But I didn’t write this.”

“It may not be your handwriting, Daphne, but you did write it. I saw you.”

“I don’t believe you.” But I did. “This paper is old.”

“No, it’s just not white. That’s why I picked that particular journal. I thought you’d like it because the color of the pages made it look old.”

The paper rattled in my hand as I lifted my gaze to his face. “I’m scared.”

Zach slid onto the swing beside me and pulled me into his arms. “Good. You should be. Now . . . let’s figure out what we’re going to do about it.”

“That’s how you knew about Chantal.”

He nodded without turning from the bookcase he stood before. “She was skulking around four days ago when I buried a tobacco bundle for purification. I figured it was just a matter of time until she went to you. She’d remember it was four days.”

We had come back to the lighthouse, catching a ride with his friend’s older brother who happened to be heading out.

I had dragged him to my room and pulled my journal from its hiding place.

The last page I’d written on was missing, torn out. I smoothed the sheet Zach had given me along the ragged edge.

Perfect fit. I sank onto the bed.

Zach was not comfortable in my room. He glanced around, eyebrows furrowed. His shoulder twitched. Then an elbow.

“I should go.”

I tossed the journal onto the bed and went to him. I grabbed his arms. “No. Aren’t you going to help me look through the ledgers?”

We had decided to go through them together, in case one of us saw something the other did not.

“Of course,” he reassured me and backed toward the door, leading me, “just not in this room.”

I frowned at him, then looked over my shoulder at my haven. “I like this room.”

“It doesn’t like me.”

I swung my gaze back to him. He clasped me by the waist and with a grin tugged me nearer. “You won’t like me much either if you don’t move me out of here and soon.”

He tried to kiss me. I swatted him out into the hallway and hoped my newest shade, crimson, left my face by the time we got downstairs.

It had, mostly, and now I patted the cushion beside me for Zach to take a seat. “So what happened that made Chantal think Aunt Dwill was pregnant and you killed her baby?”

He lifted his eyes from the page briefly and dropped onto the loveseat. “Nothing. Just like today.”

“You mean Chantal saw Ro?”

He nodded. “She really wigged out, too. I’d made the mistake of putting the paint on at the cemetery, so my hands were red and she really believed it was blood. Eddie was sick at the time, gallbladder or something, and taken to the hospital that night.”

I nudged him when he stopped. “What did Chantal do?”

“I had to chase her down, almost all the way back to town. My dad passed us on his way home from the hospital. She started bawling that I killed a baby and was trying to kill her, too. My dad was pissed.”

“At Chantal? Because she was accusing you? And him. She must have figured your dad as the father.”

He screwed up his face, lips pressed together as though thinking it over, then lifted his gaze to mine. “At me, mostly, for messing with stuff I shouldn’t.” He grinned. “It took us over an hour to calm her down.”

I shoved his shoulder and stood. “You should be ashamed of yourself.” Then I hurried to grab another ledger before he saw me smile.

“Maybe. Chantal seemed to understand that she didn’t see Eddie, and there was no baby, but by the time I got back from my Quest, her gang had pretty much spread the word.”

I reclaimed my place on the loveseat. “Where did the other name come from?” I had seen the pictures of his mom at his house. She didn’t look white.

He returned his attention to the ledger in his lap and I thought he was going to ignore the question. He didn’t look at me when he replied, “I guess Chantal was close enough to realize my eyes are blue.”

“How close was she?” but I only half-teased.

He leaned in and murmured near my ear, “I could show you.”

“Uh-uh,” I laughed, “we’ve got lots of work to do.”

Zach pouted until I laughed again then went back to his ledger. “Chantal still likes to threaten me with it. Doesn’t want to admit she’d seen a spirit.”

I thought on this a bit, flipping pages.

“Could be pretty scary, I imagine,” I said and rose, closing my ledger.

“You took it well, all things considered.” Zach had closed his ledger, too, but remained seated, watching me with interest.

I shrugged. “It wasn’t night and I didn’t have a blood-covered warrior in my face.”

Our gazes locked, and I knew he was thinking of the kiss, too. When he grinned, it was written all over him. I continued, “Besides, I didn’t really realize it. By the time I did, I was kind of used to it. And intrigued by it.”

“This was not your first time.”

He’d been so sure. I walked behind the loveseat. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

Zach tilted his head back, following my movements, but didn’t speak. I perched on the arm of the loveseat. “Were you at Vincent’s grave when Chantal saw you?”

“Not yet, but I was near the wall.”

“How do you know where he’s buried? Family story?”

“No.”

I lifted an eyebrow at him, waiting.

Zach stood abruptly and crossed to the bookshelf.

“What, did you spot the stone one day or something while you were messing around out there?”

His face to the row of ledgers, he mumbled, “I see things.”

“I know. You’re very observant.”

He shook his head and said something else, but I couldn’t make out all his words. “In time? What does that mean?”

Zach spun to face me. He looked me dead on. “In dreamtime. I’m shown things.”

My eyes widened; I felt them. “Since when?”

“Always. But it’s been . . . sharper . . . since my Vision Quest. I think it taught me. To be more aware.”

I digested this. “Does your dad know?”

“Yes. And no.”

“What do you mean?”

Zach tilted his head. “I don’t think he wants to know too much, so I don’t usually tell him.”

“Why were you shown Vincent’s grave?”

“He needs help. To get back to his family. It’s time.”

There was more. I could feel it. “What else did you see, Zach?”

His eyes pinned mine, their blue deepening almost to black. “You.”

A zap, as though I’d touched an ungrounded wall socket, hit my chest. I placed a shaking hand on my heart. “Me?”

Zach didn’t answer, but crossed to my side. He slid onto the loveseat and pulled me down from the arm of it, onto his lap. I gripped his shoulders as his hand cupped the back of my head and his lips found mine. Their heat lingered there even after he’d moved them to my ear to whisper, “It’s how I knew you would help us.”

“Us?” The word wobbled out of my mouth, somehow making it through my erratic breathing.

“Me, Vincent, Ro. Sarah. My dad, your aunt. You. So many people are affected by one single act, Daphne. No matter how small. And it stays in the circle until it’s made right.”

I pulled back to see his face, his eyes. I had no words for the way he filled my heart. It felt big, and heavy, light and free all at the same time. I stroked my fingertips across his cheek and along his jaw.

“You’re even prettier in waking,” he said. The low gruff tone of his voice sent a thrill up my back. He kissed my cheek, the edge of my jaw, and then my throat. His lips lingered there and shimmered heat across me in every direction. His hands clenched my hips.

Passion. To be engulfed in a wave of emotion so intense it could temper steel. I pressed closer to him, my lips to his neck. He stilled. I grew brave and moved along his neck to just below his ear. His chest rose and fell, rose and fell beneath my palms. Then I kissed his ear.

Zach’s breath left him in a
whoosh
. He shifted and I found myself on my back with his mouth over mine. He trailed kisses down my throat between the beads of my necklace. I gasped and my arms wrapped around his head. His hand moved upward, thumb brushing my skin and I realized he had crested my ribcage. Tendrils of cooled heat swirled across me and I grabbed his hand. “Zach!”

“I know,” he moaned, “I know.” His hand retreated to my waist, but his mouth remained at my neckline, breath hot and rapid on my skin. The weight of him on me made my body buzz. It was hard not to move, but I didn’t dare.

Zach lifted his head and shifted his weight up onto his elbows. “Good thing this isn’t a couch.”

The thought of us stretched out with him totally on top of me caused a quivering low in my stomach. Thank God he sat up and pulled me up, too. I swung my legs down off his lap and sagged against the back cushions. Zach leaned forward, elbows to knees, and rested his forehead on his fingertips.

“Don’t kiss my neck anymore,” he grumbled, but I saw his smile. I touched my hand to his shoulder.

“Okay. You can kiss my neck but not my ear.”

Smiling, I moved my hand down his back.

“Okay. You can kiss me where you want, but not near furniture.”

I laughed and he stood up. I stood, too, and pushed him toward the bookcase. We both seemed to have someone else’s legs. “Is here okay?” I teased.

He hooked me by the belt loops, tugging me near. “Let’s find out.”

Our lips met. A throat cleared in the doorway. Zach and I released each other and peered toward the sound.

“Hi, Aunt. Mr. P.”

Zach threw a nod to them. “Hey.”

“What are you two doing?”

“Making—” I kicked Zach’s foot, “—a place on the shelf for these books,” he finished and glanced back at me, one corner of his mouth fighting a grin.

Mr. Philbrook’s gaze kept returning to Zach’s hair. “Been here long?” he questioned.

“Kind of.”

“Not really.”

Mr. Philbrook and Aunt exchanged a look. I rolled my eyes at Zach. He shrugged, unconcerned.

Aunt Dwill scanned the books scattered along the edge of the desk. “The ledgers? Oh! That reminds me. I found one in the basement, in an old box. It’s on the shelf near the washer, Daphne. After I brought up the load, I forgot to go back for it.” She waved a finger at both of us. “I’m going to make coffee. You two want anything?”

Zach started to shake his head, but I nodded. “Yeah. Soda would be good. We’ll be right there.” I tapped Zach’s arm. “Come with me to get the ledger?”

“Sure,” he agreed and we followed the adults from the room.

The basement wasn’t so creepy with Zach by my side. I whacked his arm with the back of my fingers as soon as we hit the bottom stair.

“What?”

I hurried him along to the laundry room, out of earshot of the stairway. “You were going to tell them we were making out! Are you insane?”

“You think they didn’t know?”

“You don’t have to clue them in that they’re right.”

Zach leaned against the washer. “I just wanted to rub it in that we got there first.”

“Zach!”

He laughed. “I was teasing you, Daphne. I had no intention of saying it.”

Hands on hips, I sighed but let Zach pull me to him. I nestled my face against his neck. He combed his fingers through my hair and held me close. His heart thumped softly with mine.

“I’m really going to miss you, Daphne.”

I shook my head, careful not to bump his chin. “No, you won’t. You’ll go to college and meet tons of people. All sorts of girls . . .”

“But they won’t be my girl.”

My head came up, eyes fastening on his, heart pounding. “Don’t tease me,” I began to whisper, when—

Whack!

Something flew by my face and glanced off Zach’s head, landing on the washing machine with a clatter. We jumped away.

“Are you okay?” With Zach’s nod, we turned our attention back to the washer.

The ledger rested there, back cover opened to reveal a slit along the inner binding.

A piece of paper protruded from it.

Have you ever had the feeling that someone is watching you?

I stood at the center of the cemetery, facing the north wall, the paper that we’d found hidden in the ledger last night open in my hand. It all looked to be in order, but something wasn’t right.

Again, the feeling. Fingers lightly brushing up the spine making you shiver, giving rise to goosebumps that spread across every inch of skin.

My mom called it ‘someone walking over your grave’. I glanced around me. “Thanks, Mom,” I mumbled.

After placing the paper back into its plastic bag and zipping it carefully, I tucked it into my beach bag and turned to leave. I scanned the area outside the cemetery.

If Chantal were nearby, she had learned how to hide.

The bell
ting’d
lightly when I left.