The Ghost Files 2 (The Ghost Files - Book 2) (17 page)

How very maudlin I sound tonight. Eli mutters something and I turn my attention back to him. He is quite possibly the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. A guy would never take kindly to being called beautiful, but that’s the only word I have to describe him. He looks very young too, with his face relaxed. There’s a tiny scar on his chin that should mar his looks, but it only makes him appear all the more beautiful for being flawed. He’d said he didn’t believe they carried an angel’s blood in them, but looking at him right now, I do.

My fingertips feather over my lips remembering the kiss he and I shared before the ghost showed up and ruined the moment. I’m not sure if I’m angrier about the interruption or his wanting to eat my soul. Not only am I maudlin, I’m sounding even more fickle than I usually do. This house and yes, even Eli, are doing strange things to me, making me feel things I normally wouldn’t. I’m tired, too. I think the soul sucker ghost is feeding off me already and I don’t have a clue as to how to stop it. Maybe that’s why I’m suddenly in this odd mood.

The light from the bathroom bathes the room in a soft glow. I’d told Mr. Malone to leave the bedroom lights off so that when Eli woke up, he wouldn’t be blinded. Caleb had switched on the bathroom light instead. He didn’t want us in the dark. Who can blame him after everything that’s happened tonight? I know I should be more alarmed at everything, but I just can’t. I feel detached, morose.

“Emma Rose…”

My head snaps up. Where did that come from? It’s not even cold…yes it is, I’m just so cold already I hadn’t noticed it. The light in the bathroom has dimmed and I can hear the water dripping. When did that start?

“Who’s there?” I ask, feeling no fear, just a sense of the inevitable.

All I can hear is the drip, drip, drip of the faucet.

The bathroom door widens, an open invitation to enter. Why not, I think. It’s not like I’m going to survive the night anyway. I’m ghost food one way or another. Why not tempt fate?

Standing up, the first thing I notice is that I’m not really standing. I’m fast asleep in the chair beside Eli’s bed. If I weren’t in such a weird mood, I might actually be freaked, but as it is, it’s a curiosity and nothing more.

The bathroom is the same studio from my dream and the painter is muttering something as he works. The familiar scent of blood wraps around me as I move into the room. His work is still morbid but it’s also beautiful. The art inspires emotions. The haunting look captured in the eyes of the models moves you to feel pain, fear, and grief. He’s grieving, I realize. That’s why his paintings are so dark and full of pain. They’re a reflection of him.

“Hello?” I call out, not wanting to startle him. I know what it feels like to ruin a perfectly good painting or drawing because one brush stroke ran awry.

“There’s something just not right about it,”
he says.
“What do you think, Emma? What’s missing?”

“My name is Mattie,” I tell him, but step closer to look at his work. The woman looks lost, alone, and totally heartbroken. Her face screams pain, but not a physical one. It’s the pain of grief, of loss. He’s right though, something’s missing. It lacks the life of the painting I’d seen before. There is no heart, no soul in this one. It’s dark and terrifying, but you can dismiss that. You couldn’t before. His other work kept your eyes on the painting, your heart racing.

“There’s no life in it,” I tell him. “She’s in pain, but you can’t feel it as deeply when you look at it like you could your others.”

“Oui, cherie!”
he nods.
“I knew you would see what I see. Do you understand why it is so?”

I shake my head no.

He points to the table behind him. The sheet covering his latest victim is sticky and blotched with old blood stains.

“Her life gave out before I could finish it, but it was a little dull even before her soul finally left. Do you remember my last one? It glowed with life, with emotion. Can you guess why?”

“I don’t know.”

“You, Emma Rose. You did that. It was your blood, your soul that gave that painting life. Just a few drops and you can give this one life.”

He has my hand again and his knife is slashing. I flinch at the pain, but stare transfixed as he catches just a bit of the blood and then rushes to the painting. Just a few strokes and the image on the canvas starts to breathe. It becomes vibrant, real, and the emotions so strong, it almost drives me to my knees.

“You see, cherie,”
he coos.
“Look at what your blood did. Come, let me show you more.”
He holds out his hand to me and I’m so tempted to take it but I don’t know why. His eyes are still that dark bloody black of a demon’s, but I want to go to him so badly.

“I…I can’t.”

“Of course you can, Emma Rose,”
he smiles.
“You need my help.”

“What?” I ask, startled. His help?

He crosses the gap between us and takes both my hands.

I scream from the pain. Cold…so cold. It feels as if my bones have turned to ice and the air in my lungs freeze up. The cold is so intense it burns and I look down to see my legs are encased in ice again. I can’t move.

“Shh, poppet,”
he whispers.
“The pain is nothing but a tool. Use it. Use the pain to fight. You have to fight, Emma.”

“Fight?” I force the word out of frozen lips. It hurts so much.

“You’re dying, Emma, right now. If you don’t fight, there is no hope. Your soul is being drained and you’re not fighting.”

“
I don’t want to fight,” I whisper. And I didn’t. What was the point? Nothing good ever happens to me. Why not just die and be done with it?

“What is wrong with you, Emma Rose? This is not who you are. You always fight.”

“That’s the point,” I shout, forgetting the pain for a moment. “All I ever do is fight and what good has it done me? Where has fighting ever gotten me? I have nothing and no one. I can’t even draw anymore.” I lift up my hands. “Why fight when I can’t do what I love? When I can’t trust anyone?”

“Trust me, poppet,”
he says.
“If you die here, you will be trapped with all of them, feeding him for an eternity. You don’t know pain until you’ve felt your soul ripped from you, saw it eaten, and then have to go on with this hollow feeling. Don’t lose yours, Emma Rose, not yet.”

“Who are you?” I ask again, disturbed that this madman is concerned about me.

“
It doesn’t matter,”
he says. His eyes, usually full of madness and evil, shines with something akin to sorrow tonight.
“What matters is that you wake up and fight.”

“But why?” I ask. “Why do you care?”

“Because you’re mine, Emma Rose and I will be the one to kill you. No one else. Do you understand me? Wake up, girl, and fight!”

Hands are shaking me and I struggle against them. The pain is back and it’s all I can do to breathe.

“Mattie, please wake up.”

I can hear Dan, but his voice is faint, like he’s very far away. My entire body is shaking from the cold. I’ve never been this cold before.

“We need to get her warm,” another voice argues. “What the…why is she bleeding?”

“Oh God,” Dan whispers close to my ear. “She’s dreaming again. It has to be the same dream…”

“What are you talking about?” I feel Eli’s warm breath on my face. When did he wake up?

“Right before she came here, she had a dream about a guy who cut her wrist. When she woke up, her wrist was bleeding. Where’s she bleeding?”

“Her wrist,” Eli says, confusion in his voice. “Caleb, get me something to stop this blood.”

My eyes open and all I see is a world of aqua. His beautiful eyes are full of fear and worry.

“Mattie?” he whispers. “Can you hear me?”

“She’s awake?” Dan demands. “Squirt? You okay?”

I’m too tired to answer either of them. Why am I so tired?

Then I see him. He’s standing in the corner, unnoticed by anyone else. He’s grinning, but he looks younger than he did before. He looks alive and his eyes are glowing a rich blue. It’s my soul that’s making those eyes glow. The old man is feasting on my soul.

He’s killing me just like he said he would.

Chapter Twenty

“I can’t leave you alone for even a few days, can I?”

I force my head to turn just slightly. He’s standing in the doorway with an irritated look on his face. Eric.

“Eric?” I whisper. “What are you doing here?”

“Eric?” Dan asks. “Where’s Eric?”

“Who’s Eric?” Eli demands.

“Saving you again.”
He sighs and starts towards the man sitting in the corner.

“No,” I scream, my voice not as loud as it should be. “Don’t go near him!”

Eric stops and looks at the man, really looks at him. His face turns horrified.
“He’s…he’s…he’s consuming your energy, your soul, Mattie.”

“I don’t know how to stop him,” I say.

“It’s more than that.”
Eric walks over to the bed.
“You don’t want to stop him. Why?”

“Because my life is too hard, Eric. I’m tired. I just want to stop.”

“What?” Both Dan and Eli whisper. Even though they can only hear one side of the conversation, both understand what I’m saying. I don’t want to fight, to live like this anymore.

“I can’t believe you’re being this selfish, Mathilda Louise Hathaway,”
Eric rages at me, his blue eyes so full of anger for a moment they pulse with a light I’ve never seen. His face starts to contort, to bleed, to rip, to tear, to shred and I’m staring at Mirror Boy once again. That ragged sound of nails screaming as they are sawed in two hammers at me. I remember in this instant why he terrified me.

Caleb and his dad draw their swords and Eli slides off the bed, drawing his own. Dan sits up and gapes at the image before him. He tries to drag me to the other side of the bed, but I won’t go. Weak as I am, I won’t run from Eric. Never again.

“Don’t you dare touch a hair on his head,” I warn Eli and struggle to sit up.

“Get back, Mattie,” he warns me. “You don’t know what this is…”

“I know perfectly well what he is,” I rebuff and try to stand but end up falling to the floor. I’m too weak. Dan is there, though, yanking me up. “It’s Eric.”

“That is not Eric,” Dan denies. “It can’t be Eric.”

“Dan, meet Mirror Boy,” I say softly. “I’m not selfish, Eric. No matter what you think, I’m not selfish.”

“Yes, Mattie, you are selfish,”
he yells and I flinch at the pain that shoots through my head.
“After everything we did to save you, you’d throw it all away?”

“Eric, please,”
I beg, switching to my internal chat.
“Don’t be mad. You said you’d wait for me and I’m ready to go. If I’m here, we can’t ever be together, but if I die, you and I can go, we can cross over and forget about all the pain we’ve suffered. We can be happy.”

“Even if that’s true, Mattie, I’d never let you do it,”
he tells me.
“You mean too much to me. I want you to live like every day is your last day. You deserve to be happy, to fall in love, to have children and be the mom you wanted yours to be. Live Mattie, please don’t give up.”

I turn away at the raw emotion in his voice, in his eyes, and bury my face in Dan’s chest as I’ve done so often over the last months. No matter what Eric’s face looks like, his eyes are always the same. He did work hard to save me. Am I throwing that gift away? That blessing? I’m just so tired and my heart hurts so much.

“Mattie, you are the only girl I’ll ever love this side of the veil,”
Eric whispers,
“but it can never be. You know this, I know this. You’re hurting right now. I know you feel raw and ragged, like your heart has been shattered into a thousand pieces. You’re angry at everyone and everything. You feel like you’ve lost everything good in your life, but that’s not true.”

“It is true,” I say, tears trailing wet paths down my cheeks. “I lost Dan. He may not know it yet, but we can’t survive what’s coming. He’ll never forgive me.”

“What are you talking about, Mattie?” Dan asks. “You haven’t done anything.”

“I did,” I nod, not looking at any of them. “I asked you to find my family and it cost you yours. I destroyed everything good in your life. If you’d never met me, you and your mom and dad and brother would still be a happy family. You wouldn’t be seeing ghosts or demons. You’d just be the nice guy who always tries to do the right thing.”

Dan forces my chin up so that I’m looking at him. “Mattie, none of this is your fault and I would
never
blame you for any of it. Why would you even think that?”

“Because everything I care about is taken away, destroyed, and it’s always my fault. I always do something to wreck everything good in my life. I just never thought I’d do such a bang up job with you. I never meant to hurt you.”

“Squirt, don’t,” Dan soothes. “Please don’t cry. I swear to you, this isn’t your fault. You just wanted to find out where you came from. No one expected this to happen. If anybody is to blame it’s my mom and your mom. If they’d just thought about the consequences of what they were doing, none of this would be happening.”

“Stop whining, Mattie,”
Eric tells me harshly
. “You’ve been droning on and on about all the bad things for as long as I’ve known you. This pity train of yours is starting to get boring.”

“Boring?” I screech and turn around, intending to launch myself at him. How dare he say that to me? It’s not his life, it’s mine. Dan catches me before I fall. God, I wish I wasn’t so weak.

“Yeah, boring,”
he nods, his face starting to melt back to its cute self.
“Sure, you’ve had a pretty bad life, had terrible things happen to you, but you need to get over it, get over yourself. You’re surrounded by people who love you, who would do anything for you, and you refuse to accept it. You see it, but you won’t reach out and grab it. Instead you focus on the bad stuff and not the good.”