Sisters Of Salt And Iron
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“Yeah, thanks.”
We each had two bags as we walked outside. Everything at the party had been disposable to cut down on dishes to wash—and to narrow the margin on dishes that idiots could break.
It was dark out and chilly. It had been a warm fall, but October nights in Connecticut were going to be cold, no matter how warm the day had been. I had my arms wrapped around myself as we hurried back to the house.
There was a guy standing right in front of the door, blocking our path. It took me a moment to realize he was a ghost—they looked as solid as real people to me for the most part, but there was a weird “feel” to them that I couldn’t quite explain.
This guy had been in his late twenties when he died. He had long shaggy hair and was wearing bell-bottoms. I was going to guess he died in the ’70s, and from the smell of patchouli, sweat and vomit that seemed to cling to him, I figured it had been an overdose that did him in. Although, he looked pretty clear-headed now. And angry. And all of that anger was staring at Kevin.
“Hey, Woodstock. What’s up?” I chirped, trying to draw his attention.
His dead gaze flickered to me and then dismissed me, as though I were nothing more threatening than a mote of dust.
“Kevin McCrae?” he asked.
Kevin was still, tense, but his expression was blank. “Yes. Who are you?”
Woodstock grinned, revealing teeth that had seen better days. “Death,” he replied.
And then he lunged.
WREN
“Who was that boy?”
I glanced up at Noah. We were back at his building at Haven Crest, dancing to the music that lingered from many, many years earlier. Spectral energy was like that—it hung around long after it was created, waiting to be discovered. It was like tuning a radio station to the right frequency.
“What boy?” There had been so many at the party.
“The one in the strange green long johns. I swore he looked right at me.”
Oh. Him. “That was Kevin. He’s a medium.”
“Ah. That explains it. This time of year must be difficult for his kind. What is this Kevin’s last name?”
I didn’t want to tell him. I don’t know why, but talking about Kevin with him felt wrong. “McCrae.”
“Irish.”
“American.” Kevin’s family had come over from Ireland so long ago it hardly mattered anymore.
Noah gave me a little smile. “Still Irish, dear girl.”
I arched a brow. Dear girl? “Are you still English?”
“Of course,” he replied. “A man’s country is all he has. It’s what defines him as a man.”
“I thought it was character that defined a man.”
He laughed. “Cheeky girl. You have me there.” He glanced over my shoulder at something I couldn’t see, his gaze narrowing. He nodded once. When I was able to glance in that direction, there was nothing there.
“Beg your pardon,” Noah said. “I was just shooing away another resident who thought they might join us.”
I smiled. I liked that he wanted me all to himself. “I’m sorry that the party wasn’t more fun for you.”
He whirled me around. “I don’t understand most modern social behaviors, but it was pleasurable to me to simply spend the evening in your presence.”
“I could listen to you talk all night,” I told him with a sigh. “Hurray for English boys.”
“Hurrah for the Melinoe.”
“What’s that?”
He smiled, and tucked my hair behind my ear. “Just an old Greek term for beautiful girls. For you.”
I couldn’t hide how that made me feel, so I glanced away. I didn’t know much about boys and dating, and flirting. I couldn’t even tell if he was being sincere.
I wanted him to be sincere.
The tall grandfather clock against the far wall chimed the hour. It was midnight. I felt a frisson of energy race up my legs to swirl in my stomach. In my arms, Noah seemed to glow a little brighter.
“Did you feel that?” he asked. “One day closer to All Hallows’ Eve.”
“I’ve never felt a jolt like that before.” My fingers tingled.
Noah grinned. “It’s because you’re here. You don’t spend much time with the dead, do you?”
I shook my head. “Not really, no. And if I do, it’s in the Shadow Lands.”
His handsome face darkened. “That place. They expect us to skulk about there, while we’ve as much right to this world as the living. Did we ask to perish before our time? To be made monsters in our own home? How is it we ‘haunt’ a place while the living reside there? Or worse, cast it aside like trash to wither and decay?”
He was so angry. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Suddenly, the tension drained from his face, and the Noah I’d come to know was there again. “Forgive me. Sometimes I give into the unjustness of my plight rather than appreciate what I have.” He smiled flirtatiously. “Such as the company of a beautiful young lady.”
I preened under the compliment, lowering my eyes to hide the joy his words inspired. Only Kevin had ever called me beautiful before.
“Let’s go for a walk,” Noah suggested. “I want you to see how the grounds once looked.”
He held my hand as we drifted through the peeling wooden door, out into the night. Outside, the exterior of the Haven Crest campus looked as it always had to me—old and run-down. Its beautiful architecture abandoned and left to rot, feeding the malevolence and despair of all the souls bound to it.
“It doesn’t look any different,” I said, unable to hide my disappointment.
Noah squeezed my hand. “Close your eyes.”
I did as he said.
He kissed me—his lips soft and warm against mine. My soul fluttered. When he pulled away, my first response was to pull him back, but he didn’t go far.
“Open your eyes,” he whispered.
I did, choking back a gasp at the sight that met my eyes. The electric lamps that had flooded the grounds with light had been replaced by flickering lanterns in glass cases on high black poles. The grass was thick and rich green. The trees were shorter, and gravel paths replaced cracked asphalt. But it was the buildings that were truly spectacular. Redbrick with gleaming white trim. Windows lit from within with golden light. Steps unbroken and straight, some with columns that stood straight and smooth rather than pitted and peeling.
“It’s beautiful,” I whispered.
“Horrible things have happened here,” Noah said softly. “But there were good things as well, things that unfortunately have been forgotten by many.”
Other spirits had joined us—ghosts from across the ages. Some were male, some were female. Some were young, some old. There were people of different ethnicities and backgrounds standing together—class didn’t matter to the dead. We were all transfixed by the sight of Haven Crest in its prime.
“You did this?” I asked, turning to Noah.
He shrugged. “I merely made it possible for you to see it in another dimension. The Haven Crest you know still exists, but this is how it sees itself. I think this version is much prettier, don’t you?”
I nodded. The jolt I’d felt and all this beauty only made me more certain that Haven Crest was its own entity. “It’s like something on Masterpiece Theatre.”
“Masterpiece Theatre? Never heard of it.”
I laughed. “No. It’s a little after your time.” I gripped his hand tighter. “Noah, thank you for showing me this.”
He smiled. “It’s important to me that you see this place as I do, that you understand why those of us who choose to be here are reluctant to go.”
My gaze was still busy taking it all in. How different it looked! “I wish Lark could see this.”
“The living are incapable of it. They see only death and decay.” He said it with a sneer.
“Lark isn’t like most of the living,” I informed him—maybe a bit defensively. “She would be able to see this, if it was shown to her.”
“Well, then, maybe we’ll find a way to make her see.”
The thought of the look on my sister’s face when she saw this beautiful place made me grin. “I’d like that.”
“I would do anything to make you smile exactly as you are right now. I’ve never seen anything as lovely in all my days—alive or dead.”
“You’re a flirt,” I accused, practically fluttering my eyelashes.
“You inspire it in me,” he replied with a wink. “Shall I show you about the grounds?”
I hesitated. The last time I’d been in the main buildings Josiah Bent had tried to bend me to his will and badly injured my friends.
“I assure you no harm will come to you,” Noah comforted me. “And the man who once tormented you is gone from this place—forever. Your sister saw to that.”
I believed that. When Lark put her mind to banishing a spirit, she did a pretty good job of it. I did, too, come to think of it. The last time being on these very grounds. “Won’t some of them hate me for getting rid of Bent?”
“Josiah Bent was a terrible man, and we’re glad to be rid of him. He thought of nothing but himself, and had nothing but blatant contempt for this place and those of us who had been here long before he showed up. Come with me, you’ll see.”
I let him lead me up the gravel path toward the main building. The ghosts around us came closer. Some of them reached out as though they wanted to touch me. Others smiled and shied away. But they all looked happy to see me, as though we were old friends. They would never look at Lark like this, not with her belief that most ghosts were evil.
I smiled back at them, and for the first time in my existence, I was happy that my sister wasn’t with me.
LARK
I punched Woodstock in the face. The blow knocked him back.
The second ghost I’d hit in twenty-four hours. That had to be a record, even for me.
“I can see him,” Kevin said dumbly. “Like, really see him.”
I kept my gaze on the ghost, fists clenched, ready. “It’s almost Halloween. Hasn’t this happened to you before?”
“No.” Out of the corner of my eye I saw him slip something on his fingers—iron rings. I’d yet to find a better weapon against ghosts. “But since you and Wren came back to town, my sensitivity to the dead has increased.”
Made sense. Lately I’d been thinking more and more that if I was around people who were in tune to ghosts, I acted as a kind of magnifier for their abilities.
The ghost had shaken off my punch and came back for more. He hit me in the face so hard my vision blurred. I kicked him between the legs. Dead or not, a guy’s still got his junk.
I shook my head and delivered an uppercut to Woodstock’s jaw. “Do you know this guy?” I yelled at Kevin.
He landed a punch on the ghost, as well. “Never seen him before in my life.”
“Well, he knows you.” I managed to get the words out before the hippie slammed his shoulder into my gut. “I thought you guys were peaceful!” I shouted as I hit the ground. My head slammed into the paved drive. Black swarmed my vision, followed by an array of stars that spun so fast I thought I might puke.
“You can’t run from me, little man!” the ghost shouted with a cackle. I heard Kevin’s footsteps pounding against the ground. Through blurry eyes, I saw Woodstock start to follow after him. I reached out and grabbed him by the ankle, pulling hard.
Off balance, the ghost fell, his other foot slamming into my shoulder. I grunted and tried to roll away, but he grabbed me by the hair and yanked me back. My eyes watered at the pain, but I didn’t make a sound.
Woodstock straddled my chest. Swimming in and out of focus, he leered at me. The smell of patchouli and pot filled my nostrils. “You’re not as pretty as your sister,” he told me. “We can still have a little fun, though.”
How did he know Wren? And was that a ghost-boner pressed against my stomach? A little tingle of fear raced down my spine. He could rape me if he overpowered me. I’d heard of people being sexually assaulted by ghosts before. Not something I ever wanted to experience.
“Fuck you,” I growled.
His expression turned angry. He shifted his weight to lean closer. God, the smell of him was all over me. His movement let me pull my arm out from beneath his knee. I moved fast, grabbing him by the throat and squeezing with all my strength.
Not to brag, but I’m strong—especially against ghosts. I can’t explain it and I don’t care. It’s enough for me that I can fight the dead. I’ve been a match for most that I’ve gone up against, and Woodstock was no different. His fingers curled around my arm and hand, trying to pry my fingers loose.
I kept squeezing. Not like I could kill him, but the iron on my finger would hurt him.
Suddenly, I was pelted by a spray of pebbles. No, not pebbles, I realized as one hit my lip with a hard sting. It was salt. The kind you use in winter to melt snow. It hurt as it rained down on my face.
Woodstock howled and exploded into mist, leaving me holding nothing but air. I pushed myself up onto my arm, coughing out pellets that had gotten in my mouth. When I looked up, Kevin stood above me, holding a large bag that was still half-full of the noxious salt. I felt grimy from it—itchy.
“You couldn’t have just thrown handfuls at him?” I asked. “You had to dump the whole damn bag over his head?”
“It wasn’t the whole bag,” Kevin retorted, scowling. “And you’re welcome.”
He offered me his hand, and I took it, letting him help me to my feet. I was going to be sore tomorrow. Hell, I was sore now. “Hey, it wasn’t me he was after.” Then, in seriousness, “You’re sure you’ve never seen him before?”
Kevin nodded. “Never.”
I frowned as something occurred to me. “He said your name like he was asking for confirmation. He didn’t know you, either.”
“Lark, what’s going on?”
I looked around. The salt had scattered the ghost, and usually that was good for a while, but some strong spirits could get it together pretty quickly, and at this time of year all bets were off. I took him by the arm and pulled him toward the house. “Let’s get inside. We need to ghost-proof your house for when he comes back.”
“You think he’ll come back?” Kevin asked as we stepped inside.
“He was sent here to do a job, and he failed. I’m pretty sure he’ll be back, yeah.”
Kevin set the bag of salt against the wall. “What job?”
I met his gaze. He already knew the answer—I could see it. But he wanted to be wrong, and he wanted me to back him up. “I think he was sent to kill you.”
* * *
For someone with a spectral hit out on him, Kevin took the news fairly stoically. Instead of freaking out, he went immediately to work securing his house against ghosts. Roxi, Gage and I helped. Sarah had apparently left immediately after I walked in on her and Kevin in the kitchen, so she didn’t know about our surprise visitor.
I called Ben. He’d want to help, and I knew he’d be upset if I waited until morning to tell him what happened. His family was as comfortable with the existence of ghosts as mine was, so he wasn’t going to get in trouble by staying out half the night helping to protect a friend from a nasty spirit. I gotta say that made life a lot easier for me.
I reached out for Wren, figuring she would want to join the rest of us in determining why the ghost had come for Kevin and who had sent it, but she didn’t answer. That was weird. I waited a few minutes and tried again. This time I opened myself up to her. My connection to my sister has always been more soul than mind. We could pick up on how the other was feeling more than what she was thinking, although there had been times when I could’ve sworn we were telepathic.
I wish I hadn’t opened myself up when I realized what she was feeling. It’s a little uncomfortable realizing your twin is having warm tingly feelings for someone. Especially some ghost wearing a cravat. I mean, come on. A cravat?
Here’s what bothered me more, though. Wren chose to stay with her douchey Mr. Darcy instead of answering my call. Being a ghost, it was way easier for her to simply “pop” to wherever I was than for me to get to her. Still, if she called me, I’d go, because I’d know it was important. Maybe if she felt that I was in a state of panic or in pain she’d come. Of course she would. I was a cow to think anything different.
But she didn’t come. And I didn’t feel her reaching out for me, to gauge my emotional state.
I shook my head. So my sister was being a selfish teenager. Get over it.
“Do we think this had anything to do with Bent?” Mace asked, his voice coming from the speaker of Kevin’s phone. He couldn’t justify going out again to his folks, so he was at home.
“Woodstock didn’t mention Bent,” I said. Ben shot me an amused glance at my nickname for the ghost. I shrugged. “But that doesn’t mean anything.”
“How was he able to come here if he didn’t know Kevin?” Roxi asked, looking around at those of us gathered around the kitchen table. “Isn’t that, like, against the rules or something?”
“Usually,” I replied. “But this close to Halloween, I don’t know. The dead can travel around All Hallows’ Eve. Maybe this ghost came in contact with us at Haven Crest when we took Bent out. Bent was able to follow Gage to the hospital, so maybe this guy could follow Kevin home.”
“And he waited a month and a half to do it?” Kevin asked. He was still in his Kick-Ass costume. I had to admit he looked halfway cute in it. “Does that make sense?”
“It does if he wasn’t strong enough before,” I replied. Then, I shook my head. “No. This guy didn’t just randomly follow you home. He came here for a purpose. He was sent.” I was certain of it. Maybe I was just paranoid, but the explanation felt right.
“Who would do such a thing?” Gage asked, his big brown eyes even wider than normal. He was such a puppy. “And why?”
I glanced at Kevin. “Piss any ghosts off lately?” I asked. Okay, maybe I smirked when I asked.
He met my gaze. “Only your sister.”
Snap. “Wren wouldn’t send someone after you,” I informed him—and the others. “She’d come for you herself.” They didn’t look comforted. Were they still scared of my sister? “It wasn’t her.”
“Of course it wasn’t,” Ben said, holding my hand. But they were all still looking at each other. Suddenly, it all made sense. They didn’t blame Wren for this.
They blamed me.
I looked at each of them. The only one who seemed comfortable meeting my gaze was Ben.
“I know what you’re thinking,” I said. My voice shook a little, and that pissed me off. “You’re thinking that if you’d never met me you wouldn’t have to worry about some crazy-ass ghost coming after you. But you guys came to me, remember? When you’d already poked around in places you had no business poking.” My voice rose. “Bent would have come for each and every one of you if I hadn’t been here, and he probably would have gotten every one of you with the exception of Ben, who at least knew something about ghosts. So don’t you freaking dare blame me for this. You’d still be wandering around thinking I was crazy if you’d stayed away from Haven Crest. You go looking for ghosts, you’re going to find them, and surprise! Now they’ve found you. So, why don’t we shelve the blame and try to figure this out?”
Silence. All of them looking anywhere but at me.
“She’s right.” The voice that made everyone jump was Mace’s, loud and sharp, coming from the phone in Kevin’s hand. Out of all of them he probably had the most reason to resent me—after all, he’d found me bleeding to death after slitting my wrists. He’d saved me, and I’d...
Well, I saved him, too, that night at Haven Crest. So we were even.
Roxi nodded. “Yeah. Sorry, Lark. I know this isn’t your fault. It’s just kind of freaky.”
“And Daria wasn’t?” I asked.
She smiled. “She was just a tiny girl, and she didn’t come looking to kill any of us.”
“Yeah, well, you could have fooled me. You weren’t there when she tried to off me.”
Her eyes widened. “I would have hit her with some salt if I’d been there.”
“I know you would, Rox.” I turned to Kevin. “Are you sure you haven’t made contact with any ghost other than Wren lately?”
He shook his head. “None.”
I stared at him. “You’re sure?”
He frowned. “No, because I channel in my sleep all the time, just like that chick on Medium.”
“Dude, I loved that show,” Gage piped up.
I stared at him, ready to rip him a new one, but he looked so goofy and harmless. He genuinely loved the show, I guess. I laughed. And then, everyone else did, too.
And just like that, it felt like we were good again, and I was glad. It had been a long time since I’d had friends I could just be me with, and I wasn’t in any hurry to lose them.
“Okay,” I began once we’d all stopped chuckling. “So right now, all we have is the Haven Crest connection. Do we know if records from the ’60s and ’70s are available online?”
“They are,” Gage said. “I downloaded all the accessible records after we dealt with Bent.” He saw us all staring at him and shrugged sheepishly. “You know, just in case.”
“I could kiss you,” I said, and I meant it. “Seriously, you’re a rock star.” And so much smarter than he looked, but I didn’t say that.
He blushed as Roxi hugged him. “They’re on my computer at home.”
“There had to be a lot of guys during that time that looked like our ghost,” Kevin said, killing my buzz. “How are we going to narrow it down?”
“Description, photos.” I shrugged. “Homicidal tendencies.”
Kevin actually smiled at me. “A penchant for patchouli.”
I grinned, though how either of us could find the attack funny I had no idea. “The hospital would have started photographing patients by then. There were photos of some of the people we thought the ghost could have been before we discovered it was Bent, right?”
“There are pictures,” Gage confirmed. He wrinkled his nose. “Some are kind of sick. Wounds and stuff.”
Unfortunately, that sort of thing might give us even more information. “Can you email them to each of us when you get home, or in the morning?” I asked.
“Sure. The sooner we figure this out, the smaller the chance that Woodstock comes for the rest of us.” Gage rose to his feet. “I’ll go do it now if we’re done here.”
I looked around. No one protested. “Yeah, let’s go home,” I said. “Everyone, salt your windows and doors, and keep iron nearby.” Not that I thought the rest of them were in danger, unless our hippie ass-hat was going to visit each of them one by one. My gut told me Kevin had been his one and only target.
They all agreed that they would take precautions, and our little group broke up. Mace said goodbye and disconnected, promising to let Sarah know what was going on. Funny that no one had thought to call her. But then, Sarah didn’t feel like part of the group. It was pretty obvious to me that if she wasn’t Mace’s girlfriend, she wouldn’t have anything to do with any of us. He could do so much better.
I made sure Kevin was okay with being left alone before Ben and I walked out to our cars.
“Do you blame me for this?” I heard myself ask.
Ben shook his head. “You were right. We went looking for ghosts, and we found them. Had nothing to do with you. Now stop talking and kiss me.”
I smiled as his lips touched mine. Leaning against Nan’s car, we kissed until my head felt light and the world melted away. If Wren reached out to me at that moment, I don’t know if I’d answer her either.
“I’ll be over at noon,” Ben told me, when he finally let me go. “We’ll look through the records together, okay?”
I nodded, still a little dizzy. “Okay. Good night.”
He grinned and kissed me again. “’Night. You make sure you protect yourself, as well. This guy’s gotten a taste of you, too.”
I didn’t want to think about just how much of a “taste” Woodstock had wanted. “I will.”
“I’ll ask my grandmother if she has any advice,” he added. “An attack by a vengeful spirit is right up her alley.”
“She’s going to want you to break up with me. No one wants their grandson involved in this kind of crap.”