"Wow! Kayde! It's—"
"Beautiful," I breathed, pressing my nose against the passenger window. My eyes trailed over the neat, checkered brick that was the driveway, to the trimmed and tightly packed bushes hugging the wide staircase that led to the front doors. In the breeze, they tossed left and right, making it look like a sea of colors.
Holy. Shit.
The place was massive. Rustic. I had only seen it online in a few photos, but seeing it real and up close was a unique thing entirely. The photos did not do it justice... at all.
Sitting three stories tall and like a summer dream, Tales Untold overlooked a sloping hill and a vast forest, appearing inviting and warm.
It likely didn't reflect what was within.
The mansion's two chimneys rose like horns on either side, framing the grand structure. On the east side of the property, a bubbling brook snaked through the trees, lined with reeds that rustled. The lawn held neatly spaced adolescent pecan trees. A small bridge cut across the water in the brook, a trail leading back behind the mansion.
Maybe a garden?
"How much do you think this place is worth?" Darby wondered, pulling in front of the large entrance. My breath whooshed out of my lungs as I took in the intricate architecture. The building was a masterpiece, with every stone carefully carved and placed. Hot damn.
A massive sign hung between marble pillars with the words "Tales Untold" scrawled in bold—the only indication of the location.
My uncle certainly had taste. Not with his wardrobe...
"Maybe twenty million?" I pressed my face harder against the glass, trying to recognize the flowers in the flower beds. Hydrangea. Rose Moss. Wild mint? I rolled down my window, inhaling. Yeah, that's mint.
The crisp aroma made my chest ache for my childhood. It reminded me of summers spent running amuck with Darby in my trailer park as we looked for decent trees to climb. We were always in trouble. The good old days. Things were much simpler then, when we didn't have to worry about bills or credit scores.
As the sun set lower, the shadows in the forest grew longer. More dense. An invisible string, like a lasso, pulled me closer to the mansion. Calling to me.
I got out of the vehicle, unnerved by the sudden tranquility. "Something feels off," I mumbled when Darby got out to stand beside me. I let my eyes flicker across the windows, trying to catch any spirits. There was no movement. Nothing. "It's oddly quiet. Oddly... peaceful. But there's—"
"Look!" Darby pointed to the side of the garage, where a cluster of metallic trinkets hung from a gutter. "Witch Bells."
Witch Bells?
She put on her glasses, and that's when I knew she was in business mode.
She ran over to the bells and poked them, smiling as they chimed softly. "They are to keep evil spirits out. But used haphazardly, it could end up keeping the spirits inside instead." She fingered a blue ribbon tied to the contraption, her perfectly tweezed eyebrows pulling together. "There's got to be more around. I wonder if it has something to do with the peacefulness out here."
"Do those need to be removed for something to be... forcefully removed?" I thought about the Shadow, my gut doing a strange lurch. The feeling of being watched nagged at my psyche, but I ignored it. Ghosts were everywhere, watching me all the time. They knew I could see them, and that always piqued their curiosity.
Knowing something was watching me here, though, made my arm hairs stand on end. Don't let them know you are afraid. Pay no attention. Be brave.
"That would be a start," she mumbled, suddenly looking motivated. Her hazel eyes were thoughtful before she burst into action. She power-walked to the van, opening the side door. "I'll start unpacking. Why don't you get the place unlocked for me? Don't go in alone, though. We don't need you passing out like you did at the Reed's residence."
I flushed, remembering that domestic haunting. A wrathful phantom living in a farmhouse in Louisiana, hugging the Bayou Bartholomew. We expelled the spirit, but not before it revealed its entire tragic life to me, causing me to enter a state of near catatonia for two hours.
I shuddered.
"Catch!" She tossed a plastic bottle over to me. "Holy water."
I caught and eyed the bottle, resisting a snort. It looked like an average bottle of water to me. Then again, we were running on a budget.
"Do you think whatever is in there is demonic?" I studied the water, trying to find something that gave it away other than plain water, but found nothing. When she didn't answer, I asked, "Did you bring your codex?"
I was referring to her book of spells and lists of entities that she always brought with us. Probably a stupid question to ask. She was never under prepared. The pockets in my shorts were rather big, so I stuffed the bottle into one with a crunch.
She climbed out of the van holding a duffle bag full of our equipment. "I don't know about the first question. And of course to the second. Should take me an hour or two to get set up here. Your job will be disabling the alarm system and hanging back until I'm ready."
"Do I really have to hang back?" I made a face. "The sooner I get started getting a psychic map of this place, the better."
"Not without proper protection, you won't."
"That's what she said."
She rolled her eyes. "God damnit, Kayde."
I was trying poorly at humor to get rid of my inner tension, but the antsy feeling under my skin beckoned me to open the front doors and venture inside. If you want to do this correctly, you have to do it with caution.
She was right. We needed protection.
I sighed. "Sorry."
***
It took much longer for Darby to get everything set up in the van. I had already unlocked the front doors with the passcode. I paced back and forth on the porch, my heart racing as I tossed anxious glances through the windows, searching for anything amiss.
That odd tingling at the back of my neck persisted, but everything else seemed normal.
Odd. Really freaking odd. Why is it so quiet?
"Nothing is working!" Darby hissed through the walkie-talkie strapped to my hip. "The cameras. They are just... dead. They won't charge!"
I unclipped my walkie-talkie and responded, "Imagine that."
Irritation made my head throb. How would I get proof if none of our cameras worked? Sighing, I tilted my head back, rolling my shoulders and stretching my neck. Peace. Calm. This will work out. This has to.
I shut my eyes and heard a thump. Finally! Something.
It came from inside the mansion. I cupped my hands on the window, trying to peer inside. "I heard that. Are you messing with our equipment? I know you are here. Show yourself."
I let my eyes trail over the large entryway inside. I frowned, about to step away, but—what was that? A shadow?
I squinted.
A blob of smoke moved from one side of the entryway to the next, twisting and twirling over glossy, white-and-black tiles. I blinked. The strange, ghostly dance held me in awe, even though I could have sworn I'd seen it before. The tendrils of shadows were so thick they blotted out the overhanging chandeliers, curling at the very tips, caressing the paintings on the walls.
What is that?
Probably nothing good, yet I stared, following its movements for what felt like forever. It couldn't have been the Shadow... right? It hadn't attacked me yet. According to Chris, the Shadow was highly territorial and confrontational.
There was something oddly enchanting about this spirit, as if it were completely aloof from the world. Dancing, always moving, with a simple grace that left me breathless. It didn't seem to notice me.
Minutes passed as I watched. My ears prickled at the strangest sound, whimsical and alluring. Music?
No. Humming.
On shaky legs, I reached for the door handle, my palms slick with sweat.
I opened the door and stepped inside.
The atmosphere inside differed completely from the outside. Inside, my ears popped with some kind of unseen pressure, my temples beading with moisture. It was like being in a spiritual pressure cooker, compacted with electrical energy so strong that it vibrated my teeth. This place is certainly haunted.
It was difficult to concentrate. Souls surrounded my psyche like gnats. Sadness. Anger. Tragedy. Hope. I stood in front of the dancing shadow, my breath coming in faster and faster.
The door behind me shut with a soft click and the chandelier lights flickered. A soft buzzing tickled my ears, my awareness kicking in. I should leave.
Yet my feet remained rooted to the tile. Another shadow caught my attention from the corner of my eye and I turned my head. My breath sawed out of my lungs at the sight of... a little girl?
A badly burned little girl.
My eyes stung as she clutched a doll to her chest, the ends of her pink dress fluttering around her stick-like legs. Jesus, she was so tiny. The unmarred side of her face pulled into a tight smile. Mischief glinted in her blue eyes.
She tilted her head and watched me, her blonde ringlets bobbing with the movement. "Want to play?"
I swallowed, recalling my uncle's warning. If you hear a little girl's voice asking you to play, get the hell out of dodge. "Um. No, I can't play."
"Please?"
I almost gave in to her plea, but I changed my mind. "I can't."
I'm not even supposed to be in here right now!
"Whyever not?"
I flinched. That wasn't the little girl's voice. The voice was deep, like a dark ravine, grumbling like a faraway storm. Masculine with just a hint of malice, it made my fingers twitch for the holy water in my pocket.
That odd feeling at the back of my neck turned into a burn. Unwillingly, I turned. It was the dancing black mass from earlier. Seemingly disinterred in me before, it was now... drawing closer.
It was beautiful.
It was terrifying.
The inky blob of tendrils stopped moving, hovering six feet off the ground like it froze. The stillness did something to my chest. Weighing it down. Threatening to steal my breath again. I had seen him before!
My throat was tight. "I don't... I don't trust any of you."
"That's fair. But not very kind." The voice tsked slowly, coming closer yet again. The dark tendrils waved in front of my face, smelling like... incense. Eucalyptus? "Who would dare invade someone's home uninvited, only to refuse such a precious thing of fun? Tilly, my apologies. I didn't think our new guest would be quite so rude."
What the hell?
"I'm not..." I swallowed, a bit of irritation making my voice sharp. "I'm not being rude."
"You don't think so?"
"No."
"Dense, then."
I spluttered, my eyelashes fluttering. "Excuse me?"
"You're right about one thing: trust nothing here. So. Tell me." The Shadow floated to the side, looking almost as if it were studying me. "Which one are you? A reporter? A gawker? Oh, please tell me you are a gawker. I get a kick out of plucking their eyes out. Gelatinous peepers pair well with an apple martini and some toast." It—he—snickered. "You look nothing like a priest. Certainly no witch. But you are something other than a ghost hunter. You can see us, even when we do not want to be seen. Tell me what you are."
It literally just told me not to trust anything here. My psychic senses recoiled from this spirit like it was poison. This soul was corrupt. Dark. Perhaps even evil. Why didn't I notice it before? "No, thank you."
"Stubborn. I like it." The lights flickered and I gritted my teeth. "What is your name? Will tell me that?"
I took a deep breath, gripping my hummingbird necklace. Should I lie?
It would have been smarter for me to give a fake name, but for whatever reason, I told the truth. "Kayde. And who are you?"
I had a feeling I already knew, but I seriously hoped I was wrong.
"Kayde." He hummed. "Beautiful name. Short... but complex. I have a feeling it is much like its owner."
Did he just call me short? I blinked.
I waited for him to continue, feeling more and more like a mouse caught in the eyes of a cat. My heart raced in my chest. Thump-a, thump-a, thump-a.
"So tense." He chuckled. "Fear looks good on you—but, oh! How ashen it makes you." There was a pause. "I am what you ignorant humans deem the Shadow. And this, little hummingbird, is my domain."
Shit.
Shit, shit, shit!
He continued, his musical, deep voice chilling my very bones. "I was expecting a visitor, yes. But one not quite so... helpless. No manners. All alone. You have a lousy spell on that necklace of yours, but that's it. I daresay you are fucked, dear. And not the fun kind."
I should have known! Swallowing, I took a few steps back—I couldn't help it. The menacing energy coming off him was just too much to handle. That, and the stories of maiming, physical harm, and mental torture. Would he burn me? Hurt me? Possess me?
Could I convince it to leave?
I bumped into a side table, nearly tipping over a lamp.
"Going somewhere?"
I shivered, scooting back until my shaky fingers stuttered over wood searching for the front door handle. Something told me that this... spirit... might actually be insane. As if things couldn't possibly get any worse.
I need to get out of here. I need to get to Darby!
I was an idiot to walk in here with no protection, and now this thing was actually prowling towards me. Nerves made my adrenaline spike.
"What makes you think I'm anything?" I shot back, ignoring his most recent question. Christ on a cracker, it was hard to see through so much blackness. He nearly swallowed the entryway. I couldn't even see the little girl anymore. "I'm just looking around. Maybe you should mind your own business!"
Apparently, fear made a fool of the wisest women, because why did I say that?
He gave a slow, wicked snicker that made my spine do the oddest zap. "I like that mouth on you. It makes me wonder about certain other capabilities it may have."
My ears became hot at the tips, an odd warmness spreading low in my gut. "You did not just say that."
"I think I did."
Not only was this spirit unhinged, but it was also arrogant. Wonderful. My chances of reasoning with it were getting smaller and smaller.
Two bright red eyes shimmered into reality and I let out a startled squeak. No freaking way. The eyes were like a cat's, with slitted pupils that watched me intently. Too intently. My fingers brushed against the rough texture of the door as I searched for the handle. I dreamed about this monster!
"Don't tell me you are prudish."
"I'm not prudish!"
"Very well, so you aren't prudish. Noted. But, oh, don't you want to know what your energy tastes like to me? Hmm?"
Tastes like? His words felt like a trap. I faked a smile. "Not really, no."
He inhaled deeply. "A psychic. Utterly delicious! What awful timing for you, because I'm starving."
Fuckity-fuck-fuck!
"I'm nothing. Leave me alone!" I shouted. Where the heck is the door handle? I couldn't turn my back on this thing. Not if I wanted to leave unharmed. I tried a different method. "Look, I just came to talk to you—"
"Talk?"
"Yes!"
"Doubtful. Being rude, I can understand. Being dense is likely not a fault of your own. But being a liar...? Oh, little hummingbird." The front door clicked somewhere. Did it just lock me in? No! "I do so detest liars."