Ghosts of Coronado Bay (15 page)

Maya turned to Blake. “Will I ever see her again?”

Before Blake could answer, Stuart and Lucy joined them, hugging her, pounding her back, forcing her to wipe away her tears and put her grief on hold. With all the laughing and shouting, it took her a moment to hear Blake’s voice.

“We can’t celebrate yet. There’s still work to do.”

Maya broke away from her friends. “You are so right. I want this over with. How do we do it?”

“Do what?” Stuart asked.

“Kill them,” Blake said.

“Kill who?”

“All of them.” Blake motioned towards the immobilized sailors.

“Hell, yeah.” Lucy flipped her middle finger towards Gavin’s lifeless body. “Send ‘em right back to the bottom of the ocean.”

Blake ignored Lucy and continued talking. Maya gave him mental points for that. He’s learning.

“Maya’s power has them helpless for now. But they are still alive and dangerous. We have to kill them all, starting with Gavin.”

“Gavin? But he’s already dead.” Lucy’s voice was full of surety, which Blake’s next words shot to pieces.

“No, he’s not. The demons took his spirit, his soul, back to wherever they dwell. But his body was human, remember? It still lives, although it is empty. For now.”

“For now?” Stuart asked. “What’s that mean?”

“It means another spirit - any spirit, good or bad - can fill it and bring it back to life. It could even be Gavin himself. We cannot take that chance. The next one could be even worse, and we would be at a disadvantage.”

Maya nodded. Her struggle had weakened her, she could feel it. If they had to go through something like that again, there’d be no chance of winning.

“Dude, they’re ghosts.” Stuart frowned. “You can’t just kill a ghost.”

“They’re not ghosts anymore,” Maya said, and she knew exactly what Stuart was feeling as his eyes went wide.

“You’re talking about--”

“No,” Blake interrupted. “It’s not murder. They’re alive, but they’re also not really human. Maya’s blood...it made them something more. They cannot die of disease or old age. In fact, they could live forever, unless...”

“Jesus.” Stuart bit his lip. “I didn’t know...I don’t think I can...”

“You don’t have to.” Maya put her hands on his shoulders. Although she no longer felt attracted to him, she was proud to have him as a friend. He’d come through in the end when it mattered most. “You and Lucy take care of Curtis and Gary. And think of a story to tell the police when we call them.”

Turning to Blake, she said, “Show me what to do.”

He picked up a jagged piece of wood from the floor. Without saying anything, he walked over to the grizzled old sailor who’d tried to kill her.

And stabbed the wood into the sailor’s chest.

Like a scene from a vampire movie, Anton Child’s body exploded into gray ash.

“Wicked!” Lucy said from where she was kneeling by Gary.

Blake grinned. “That felt good. I always hated him.”

He stabbed the next sailor in line, who also turned to dust.

“My turn,” Maya said. She went over to Gavin and picked up the knife he’d planned on using to kill her as part of his ceremony. Put her face close to his.

“I hope you rot in Hell.” She raised the knife.

And gasped as his eyes opened.

Maya let out a startled cry as his anger reached her through the energy suddenly connecting them again. It was nowhere near as strong as his former power, which was the only thing that saved her. Still, she felt him pushing against her mental defenses, fighting to break through and take over.

“No!” Gripping the knife with both hands, she thrust it into his chest. “This time you die for real!”

Nothing happened.

She pushed harder, but instead of disappearing, he sat up and grabbed her throat with both hands. Dark liquids poured over his lips like a deadly waterfall.

“Stupid bitch. It’s you who will die tonight.” His words bubbled through the fluids and vile-smelling droplets hit Maya’s face.

“Maya!” Blake’s voice sounded far away through the sudden ringing in her ears. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t scream. Black spots formed before her eyes, and she gripped the knife tighter, twisted it around, and pushed again.

“Gaah!” Gavin let go of her and fell back, thick, black goo oozing from around the knife that stuck out of his chest.

He reached for Maya again, and this time she was the one frozen, held immobile by shock.

He’s going to win. I screwed up. I--

Inches from her neck, his arms crumbled into powder.

His screams faded away as the rest of his body disintegrated. Even after he was gone, his cry echoed in Maya’s head.

She wondered if she’d hear it forever.

“Are you all right?” Blake turned her around, his face a mix of worry and relief.

“I’m...I’m fine.” Each raspy word hurt like hell.

“Go sit down,” he said. “I’ll finish them.”

“Are you sure?”

He smiled. “It will be my pleasure.”

Maya nodded her thanks, not wanting to speak anymore. She sat down on the floor and watched as Lucy and Stuart tended to their unconscious friends.

I hope they’re okay. God, I’m so tired. Maybe I should close my eyes...

She let her eyelids droop. It felt good. So good...

She didn’t open them again for two days.

When the doorbell rang, Maya ignored it, sure it was more reporters wanting interviews. She’d already seen her face in the papers more than enough, thank you very much. All she wanted to do was enjoy some alone time now that her parents had finally left the house.

“Open the damn door, you silly biyatch. We come bearing munchies and gossip!”

“Lucy!” Maya ran for the door. How had she known to come over?

“We saw your parents’ car pull out, so we grabbed snacks and hauled ass back here,” Lucy said, as she and Stuart came inside.

“You’ve been watching my house?”

“Hell, yeah! How else could we know when to come over without fear of prying parental ears?”

“How long do we have?” Stuart asked.

“A few hours. God, I can’t believe they’re finally gone.” Maya let herself sink into the thick cushions of the couch and sighed.

Lucy opened a soda and plopped down in a chair. “Ain’t nothing fun about house arrest, that’s for sure.”

House arrest. Leave it to Lucy to find the perfect term for it. The last three days had been agonizingly boring. Although the doctors had assured everyone the only thing Maya suffered from was exhaustion, they’d also suggested she rest for a couple of days after leaving the hospital. Maya’s parents had taken that to mean no leaving the house and no visitors for more than ten minutes at a time. And to make sure she followed the rules, they’d closed the diner and stayed home with her. They’d even taken away computer privileges and monitored her cell phone use, only allowing a few minutes at a time.

By the second day, she’d had enough. Fighting for her life against a century-old ghost and preventing the gates of Hell from opening almost seemed preferable to enduring another round of gin rummy at the kitchen table or listening to her mother ask her if she needed anything.

Not that she’d been totally cut off from outside communication. She’d managed a few clandestine phone calls and emails and tweets with Lucy and some of her other friends. There’d been two visits from the police and at least a half dozen phone calls from different newspapers, which had been kind of cool.

And, of course, the late night visits from Blake although those hadn’t involved much talking.

Just a lot of lip action.

As if on cue, Blake materialized in the kitchen and joined them.

Speak of the Devil.

“Hi, everyone.”

“Hey.” Lucy swiped her hand through his shirt, and chest, as he walked by. “Don’t you ever get tired of wearing the same clothes?”

“I don’t have much choice.” He gave Maya a short but firm kiss and sat down next to her on the couch. She glanced at Stuart, but his face showed no trace of his former jealousy as he dropped into the love seat across from them.

“So, did the doctor give you the all-clear today?”

Maya smiled to herself. It was nice having him and Blake not throwing fists at each other although it was still weird to see them acting chummy.

Who’d have thought?

“Yeah. Clean bill of health, so the parental units decided it was safe for both of them to go back to work for a few hours.”

“That means it’s party time!” Lucy said, doing crazy pumping motions in the air with her fists.

“Whatever.” As much as she wanted to get out of the house, the last thing Maya felt in the mood for was partying.

“What’s wrong?” Blake asked.

“Everything.” One of the worst parts about being trapped in the house was that she’d been unable to avoid thinking about everything that had happened. “Fiona’s dead because of me. And that other girl. And Mary Ellen.”

“No great loss there,” Lucy muttered.

“Yes, it is!” Maya surprised herself with the vehemence of her words. She knew Lucy’s bravado covered up her own guilt; they’d talked about it more than once over the past few nights. Still, it bothered her to think that people - friends and classmates - were dead because of her. “She was a bitch, but she didn’t deserve to die.”

“It’s not your fault,” Blake said, echoing the words Maya had told Lucy the night before. He leaned closer and took her hand. She knew he was right, just like she’d known it the dozen-odd other times he’d told her, lying next to her in the dark of her room the past nights. But knowing something and believing it, feeling it, were totally different things. At least for her.

In the end, it didn’t matter what anyone said. She still felt responsible.

After all, it’d been her blood Gavin needed, not only to become human again but also to do his freaky spell.

“I don’t believe it. You think this all happened because of you?”

Everyone turned and looked at Stuart, whose face had gone red and angry.

“Yes, I do. Without me, none of it would’ve been possible.”

“Really? So it’s your fault the Black Lady sank here a hundred years ago? That a psycho warlock happened to be on board? That the museum decided to put on an exhibit?”

“Uh, no...” Maya struggled to get the words out. “Not those things, but--”

“And was it your fault that somehow Gavin and his crazy sailors came back as ghosts?” Lucy chimed in.

“That’s not--”

Blake spoke over her objection. “Was it your fault you were born with the power to see ghosts?”

Maya shook her head. “No, but it’s my fault Fiona went to the museum. And if I hadn’t been here, had this power, Gavin couldn’t have ever gotten the stupid book in the first place.”

“That’s where you’re totally wrong.” Stuart pointed his finger at her. “In fact, if it wasn’t for you, there’d be a lot more people dead. Right, Blake?”

“Yes, it’s true.”

“Wait a minute.” Maya’s head was spinning. First Stuart and Blake put aside their differences to help her, and now they were actually agreeing on something? “How is that possible?”

Blake continued talking. “Gavin knew the blood of an ordinary virgin could make him human again, even if it was only for a few minutes. Without you, he would have been forced to kill more girls, over and over, so he could keep taking on his solid form to find the book. Nothing was going to stop him.”

Maya started to object again, but Stuart interrupted. “Listen to him, Maya. You know the old saying.”

“What? What saying?”

“Always respect your elders.”

For a moment, everyone stared at Stuart. Then, Lucy burst out laughing.

“Respect your elders! Hoo! Good one, Stu-man!”

Stuart smiled, and even Blake chuckled.

“Okay, fine. I give up.” Maya threw her hands up. Who’d have expected all three of them to join forces against her? “It wasn’t my fault. Happy now?”

“Yes.” Lucy chugged her soda and let out a very Lucy-like belch. “You’re a hero. We all are. So besides mourning those we lost, we should be out enjoying our heroic status.”

“I still can’t believe the police bought your story.” Maya’d been unconscious when the police arrived, and so she hadn’t had the chance to hear Stuart and Lucy spin their tale of a gang who’d ransacked the Black Lady exhibit for a rare medallion hidden in a box, and then taken off when they found it. When asked about the kidnappings and murders, they’d shrugged and said they had no idea why the men did it.

“They were crazy, talking about spells and the Devil and sacrifices.”

When pressed for details, both of them said they’d been hit on the head pretty hard and couldn’t remember anything more about what had happened. And because they’d been unconscious the entire time, neither Gary nor Curtis could provide any information that would refute Lucy and Stuart’s story. When informed of all this, Maya’d thought it was the most ridiculously outrageous tale she’d ever heard.

The police swallowed it hook, line, and impossible sinker.

The next day, every paper up and down the coast carried the news. “Witchcraft Returns to New England!” “Crazed Gunmen Hold High School Students Hostage!” “Heroic Teens Survive Museum Massacre!”

“Hurray for small town police,” Lucy said, digging into a bag of pretzels. Crumbs sprayed out as she spoke. “For once it pays off.”

“How is your grandmother?” Blake asked, not-so-subtly changing the subject. Maya smiled at him, showing her appreciation for his tactics. Besides, it was nice to have some good news.

“Fine, after some much-needed rest. She said she’s gonna have to check up on me more often, to make sure I’m staying out of trouble.”

“It still weirds me out,” Stuart said.

“What? That my dead grandmother talks to me?”

“No, I kind of expect that sort of weirdness from you. Actually, I’d expect it from Lucy first, but you’re a close second.”

Lucy snorted, spraying more pretzel crumbs on Stuart’s arm. “This coming from a guy who gets his rocks off doing long-horn sheep imitations while trying to capture a piece of inflated leather.”

“Eat another pretzel, Lucy,” Maya said. “So what’s bothering you, Stuart?”

“That ghosts exist at all. No offense, Blake, I mean, you seem like a decent guy and all, but if ghosts exist, what other things are real?”

“Well, we know demons are real.” Maya crossed her arms and hugged herself as a shiver ran through her. Just the thought of those creatures...

I’m gonna have nightmares about them for a long time. Thanks a lot, Gavin Hamlin. That’s another one I owe you for.

“From the things Gavin spoke about, I have a feeling there were many more unpleasant surprises in that book.”

Stuart frowned. “Speaking of the book, where is it?”

“Yeah,” Lucy said. “The last thing we need is someone else getting their hands on it. That thing should be put through a shredder and then burned.”

“Gone.” Blake shrugged. “I went back and looked as soon as I knew Maya was alright.”

“It must have exploded when Gavin died,” Stuart said. “Or maybe he took it with him to Hell or wherever he is.”

“Good riddance.” Lucy belched again.

Maya glanced at Blake, saw the same consternation in his gaze that she felt. They’d talked about it already. Both of them remembered seeing Gavin drop the book.

Before the tentacles came and grabbed him.

It was possible the book disintegrated, its magical existence tied to its owner.

Possible, yes. But Maya didn’t believe it.

Somehow, I don’t think we’ve seen the last of that thing.

Blake patted her hand, letting her know his thoughts mirrored hers. Out loud, though, he changed the subject once again.

“Maya, what time are your parents coming home?”

She grimaced. “Tonight? I doubt they’ll work late. Probably rush right home after the dinner crowd to make sure their fragile little flower is still alive. Why?”

“That gives us almost three hours,” he said.

“For what?” Maya’s confusion only grew stronger when Lucy and Stuart started laughing.

“C’mon, Stu-man, that’s our cue. We’re outta here.” Lucy pointed at Maya. “Tomorrow night, oh clueless one. Bowling. Boys. Berry wine coolers. I don’t care if we have to lock your parents in the basement. We’re celebrating. Our legions of admirers expect it of us, and we need to take advantage of it before we’re yesterday’s news.”

She grabbed a still-chuckling Stuart and led him out the door.

Maya turned to Blake. “What are they talking about?”

Two seconds later, Maya’s confusion disappeared as Blake’s lips against hers explained everything.

It was the best celebration she could have asked for.