The Ghosts of Ravencrest (The Ravencrest Saga Book 1) (40 page)

“Well, it did. And there was something else.”

“Go on.”

She wrung her hands together and stared at them. “Something grabbed me. Something cold and bony. Like a hand. It grabbed my ankle, then dragged me underwater.”

Grant gasped.
 

“Eric was there,” she continued. “He pulled me up, but before he got there, I felt something else. It was as if someone grabbed my shoulders and was trying to pull me to the surface. To save me. The hands were ice cold.” She glanced at him. “I think it was Isobel.”

Grant was stunned. “I’ve seen a lot of things in my years at Ravencrest, but this is very serious indeed.”

Belinda nodded.
 

“Did Eric hear the-”

“No. He was underwater. He didn’t see or hear anything.” Her face crumpled. “I feel like I’m losing my mind, Grant.” Tears filled her eyes.

“You’re not. I assure you.” He handed her a napkin. “The skeletal hand you felt. You’re sure of it?”

“Absolutely.” Her eyes blazed, if only for an instant. “Someone -
something -
was trying to drown me.” She lifted her pant leg and showed him. There were four bluish-purple bruises, like fingers, encircling her ankle.
 

Grant’s eyes widened. “That looks pretty serious. Are you all right?”

Belinda lowered her pant leg. “I’m fine. I’m just confused.”

“I’ve heard stories of that hand, but they date back to the 1930s.”

“The hand? What is it?”

“Something tragic, Belinda, but I’ll have to do research to tell you more. You’d best stay out of that pool for now. Everyone must. I’ll speak to Eric about it.”

“He’s already locked the building.”

“Good.”

Belinda dabbed away a tear. “Do you think Isobel was trying to help me?”

“Undoubtedly. She was a dear, wonderful woman, and you should trust your instincts. They’re very good. She’d like you.”

“What do these ghosts - or whatever they are - want with me? I don’t understand.”

“I’m not sure, but you do have the Sight and, may I add, your gift is the most powerful I’ve seen. I think it might be wise, if you agree, for me to begin teaching you about psychic self defense.”

“Yes. I agree.” She sat back as the waitress delivered bacon cheeseburgers and huge mounds of fries.
 

“I’d like to place an order to go,” Grant said. “Six bacon cheeseburgers.”

The waitress jotted it on her pad. “You’ve got it.”

Belinda stared at him with wide eyes. “Riley was serious? I thought that was a joke.”

“That man never jokes about food.”

“Okay ...” Looking uncertain, Belinda tried a fry.

“Eat up,” Grant said, passing the ketchup. “Junk food gives you strength.”

Her smile was timid, but her appetite wasn’t. They ate in silence a few minutes.

“Now tell me the rest, Belinda.”

She finished the last of her burger and picked up a ketchup-stained fry. “I had another dream last night.”

“And by dream, do you mean visitation?”

She nodded.
 

“Thomas?”

“He was there, too.”
 

“Who else?”

“Alice. She showed me what happened.”

“What do you mean?”

“She and Thomas were in love but she chose Edward to marry. While he was away, she and Thomas went on a picnic together.”

Grant leaned forward, the remains of his lunch forgotten. “An assignation?”

Belinda hesitated. “No. Alice wasn’t going to accept but her mother-in-law urged them to go.”

“Johanna?”

“Yes.” She spoke matter of factly.

The poor girl had had so much thrust upon her in the last few days that he was amazed she was able to handle it all. “Go on.”

“Prudence and Parnell were conceived under an oak tree by a stream. They were Thomas’. Alice never told him, but he always suspected. And now, of course, he knows.”

“Belinda, this is wonderful information. Thank you for telling me.” The waitress came, refilled their coffees and dropped off the check and a bulging white bag of burgers.

Belinda waited until she was gone. “They want my help. They said it’s my destiny. That I have the power and am chosen. Do you have any idea what they were talking about?”

He wasn’t sure of the answer. “You do have the Sight, which means they can communicate with you. You’re probably the first friendly person they’ve encountered with the gift in all these years.”

“‘Friendly?’”

He nodded. “I’d imagine the witch is able to see them, but she certainly isn’t friendly.”

“Cordelia Heller.”

He nodded. He wished he’d thought before he’d spoke - he didn’t want to talk about Cordelia if he could avoid it, not now. Belinda didn’t need more to contend with; she had to be nearing the end of her tether. “Yesterday, you said Thomas told you he wanted you to rescue Prudence. That’s the help they’re asking for, correct?”

Belinda nodded.
 

“What do they want you to do?”
 

“They want me to bring her out of the east wing. They said they can’t go in and she can’t come out on her own. They need me to bring her.”

That was the answer he’d feared. “I see.”

“I don’t see,” Belinda said. “Why can’t she come out?”

“They’re telling you the truth. It’s complicated. There are wards set.”

“You mentioned wards before, but I can’t recall what you said.”

“Well, you might think of them as force fields. They repel certain things and beings. There are wards set to keep Prudence in and other spirits out.” He paused. “She’s dangerous to the witch as very few things are.”

“Because of her innocence.”

“Yes. Her purity makes her rather impervious to evil.” He studied her, a new thought dawning. “Belinda, I think part of
your
power is your own purity.”

“Purity? I’m not pure.”

Grant smiled and touched her hand. “Belinda, you exude purity and innocence. You don’t have to be a child or a virgin to have purity. It’s your soul that’s pure.”

Belinda blushed furiously and he realized she really was a virgin. Thomas and Alice were correct - it was truly her destiny. His stomach knotted with the knowledge.

“You said you have some abilities with these things,” Belinda began. “You’re a Knight of the Mandrake.”

“I am, indeed, and I do have knowledge. In fact, I’ve set wards of my own, just as my predecessors have, to keep the three sisters from leaving the east wing. We wouldn’t want that to happen. They’re powerful enough to be seen by most anyone, with or without the Sight.”

Belinda looked annoyed, but hopeful. “But can you break the wards keeping Prudence in? Or keeping her parents out?”

“I’ve tried, but the witch’s wards have always been very potent and I’ve had no luck breaking them.” He paused. “You must understand that Cordelia renews those wards regularly. I caught her at it the other day.”

“Can’t you get her fired?”

He laughed without humor. “It wouldn’t help. She’d find another way in. Remember, we’re here talking because she might ‘tune’ into us at Ravencrest.”

“What about the cemetery? You said-”

“Yes, that’s probably safe, but I need to test it to be sure - and it’s lunch time. I’d rather eat than sit in the heat at the boneyard.” He smiled. “Wouldn’t you?”

She ignored his attempt at levity. “I’m going in.”

“Into the east wing?” His gut twisted again.

“I have to.” Her voice held a firmness he’d never heard before.
 

“You don’t have to, Belinda.”

“It’s my destiny.”
 

The strength in her eyes and the set of her jaw surprised him. There was more to this young woman than he’d suspected. Much more. “Very well. When?”

“Tonight. While the kids are away. It’s time.”

“You’re sure? You know you will probably encounter the bleeding nuns.”

“I do.”

“Very well. You understand I’m going with you.”

Finally, she smiled and looked like a sweet young girl again. “I was hoping you’d say that!”

“Good. After dinner, come to the coach house. We’ll need to make preparations.” His heart thundered as he spoke. Belinda was less afraid of entering the east wing than he was. She was, indeed, very courageous. He would do what he could with his own methods and magick to try to ensure a safe outcome, but he had no idea how much it would help.

Midnight

Ravencrest Manor at midnight. Within the great house, Cordelia Heller was awake, casting spells, amused that Phister and the governess thought she didn’t know what they were up to. And in the carriage house, Grant and Belinda prepared for their rescue attempt, exchanging information, checking flashlight batteries, and repeating simple protection spells to one another.

Outside, the sky was black velvet embroidered with cold silver stars awaiting the moonrise. Greek statues stood silent sentinel over the grounds, and if their eyes moved, no one noticed.
 

The persimmon tree’s leaves flirted and danced with a dark breeze as something moved deep within the earth. New buds formed and green fruit turned red in the dark. A night bird landed on a branch then fell to the ground, dead.
 

The scent of night-blooming jasmine wafted, consuming the wisteria’s sweet perfume, strangling it.
 

Silence. The world held its breath.
 

The East Wing

By half past midnight, the mansion slept. Belinda could feel the presence of Alice and Thomas Manning as she stood at the heavy east wing door, watching Grant whisper spells in Latin, his hands playing over the runes hidden among the leaves and faces. She didn’t know what he was saying, but she felt the power of his words in her solar plexus.
 

At last he brought the brass key from his pocket and slid it into the lock. The heavy
click
echoed in the silence as the bolt unlatched.

The door yawned open on an abyss of darkness. Belinda’s heart rose high in her throat.

Grant gave her a tight smile. “Are you ready?”

She nodded and swallowed, not sure she was ready at all. She touched the round silver amulet that hung from a thin black ribbon around her neck; it held a mix of fragrant herbs Grant had given her to wear - herbs he’d claimed would give her some protection this night.
 

They stepped into the dark corridor and Grant pushed the old-fashioned light switch, then they stared down the long hall. The lights were as dim as she remembered, providing just enough yellowed glow to reveal the cabbage-rose wallpaper and cast tall dark shadows in the doorways. The stale musty air smelled of dust and neglect. There was no evidence of life, yet Belinda knew that something - many things, in fact - dwelled here; and that whatever walked these halls did not abide by the same laws of science as the rest of the world. She shuddered.

“You have your flashlight?” Grant whispered.

“Yes.”  She took it from the back pocket of her jeans.

“Good.” Grant tested his own and the cluster of LED lights caught pigments in the faded carpeting and wallpaper that Belinda hadn’t noticed before. She tried hers. It lit dust motes and a cobweb ready to catch in her hair. She played the light over old dust-clotted paintings lining the walls, their frames grayed with dirt and age. Clouded ancestral eyes watched her.

“Best shut it off, Belinda, until you need it.” Grant put his own light in his pocket.
 

“I hope we don’t need them at all.” She shivered, though the corridor was not cold.

“As do I.” Grant paused. “Where did you first see Prudence?”

“Another hall that led to this one.”

“Will you recognize it?”

“I don’t know, maybe. I was coming back from the chapel and the nuns were after me. The lights had gone out. Prudence appeared and led me to this corridor to hide in one of the rooms when the nuns were catching up. It’s nearby. There was a desk.”

“Yes, I know the room - that’s where I found you, remember? Shall we check it first?”

Belinda nodded.

They began walking and turned up the hallway. “It’s not far. Just a couple more doors. I believe this is it,” he said, retrieving his flashlight. “What do you think?”

“I’m sorry, they all look alike to me.”

Grant opened the door and played his light over the massive desk Belinda had hidden under. She shivered, recalling the hems of the nuns’ habits, seeing and smelling the dripping gore they left behind.
 

“Sense anything?”

“She’s not here. There’s nothing here. This is just a room. We should keep going.”

“Very well.” Grant switched off the light and pulled the door closed.
 

***

The Harlequin had been scavenging in Ravencrest’s kitchen when his own true love and the butler came in the back door together. He’d barely hidden in time and then waited for another twenty minutes while they brewed coffee and talked in hushed tones about ghosts and how dangerous what they were about to do might be. He sat under the big table, only a yard from their feet and listened, growing more concerned by the moment. His love, his -
Belinda! That’s her name! Belinda! Belinda! -
spoke of bloody nuns and little girls and the butler added details, warning her of more dangers they might encounter.

The Harlequin did not want Belinda to go into this east wing they spoke of. He didn’t know what or where it was, but he understood it was dangerous and resolved to watch over his beloved and keep her safe. He wished he could speak up now, show himself to her, but he couldn’t. She wouldn’t recognize him; she would only see a monster, not the man he was certain he’d once been. The man he sometimes briefly recalled.

He rubbed his back, painful with bruises from his encounter with the witch, and smiled to himself. He’d hurt her worse than she’d hurt him. His bite, he hoped, had been poisonous.

At last Belinda and the butler left the kitchen. Afraid he’d lose them, the Harlequin avoided the ventilation system and instead followed them at a distance, keeping to shadows, scuttling silently up the stairs. He’d waited behind a narrow table on the third floor, watching while the butler mumbled and touched the carved door for long minutes. Then he unlocked it and they both went inside. The Harlequin followed.