Page 31 of Savored Sins
You’re thinking too hard about this, Autumn. You’re the opposite of grounded, you’re?—
The planchette jerks to life beneath my fingers, and my eyes fly open. I almost can’t believe it when the planchette slides across the board, dragging my fingers along with it, and comes to rest on theYESspace. Like a complete dummy, I’ve alreadyforgotten what it was exactly I asked, but hey—she’s here. She’s responding.
I mean, I hope it’s her.
It’s got to be, right? Zeke didn’t say anything about sensing other spirits in the house. You’d think he’d have at leastmentionedsomething if there were any creepy old man ghosts hanging around.
“Is this… the girl from last night?” I ask tentatively.
The planchette jumps beneath my fingers, landing back on theYESspace. Okay, then.
“In that case, hi again.” I really feel like I’m talking to myself, but I try to imagine a twenty-something girl sitting across from me, swirling her glass of wine. “I’m Autumn. I live here. Although I guess you know that. What’s your name?”
The planchette is still for a moment, like the ghost is trying to decide how much she wants to divulge. Then, like a motor sputtering to life, it gives this weird little vibration and starts sliding again, taking my fingers along with it.
As the planchette spells out the name, I read aloud. “L - E - N - A.”
The planchette stills, then slides back to the center space. “Lena. Your name’s Lena?”
YES.
Damn, this is cool. I’m sitting here talking with aghost, for god’s sake. I can’t see her, but I’m definitely not the one moving the planchette—which means she must be here.
“Nice to meet you, Lena,” I say, taking a sip of wine while keeping one hand on the planchette. “Listen—last night was fun, but I just wanted to tell you that, like…”
God, so much for cool. I feel suddenly ridiculous again. I don’t even know how to word what I’m trying to say, so I take a gulp of wine. Liquid courage and all.
“Well,” I say, beginning again. “It’s pretty obvious you’ve got a thing for Zeke. And I don’t know how this stuff works—whatever, not my business—but I wanted you to know that I’m not trying to get with him. Okay? So no hard feelings between us. Zeke’s, like… a kid. A hot one. But a kid nonetheless. And my ex was an asshole—you probably witnessed all that, come to think of it—so if I’m going to get involved with a guy again, I’m going to need someone who… takes care of my heart. So Zeke Holloway’s all yours. We’re good, girl.”
I finish my speech, feeling pretty proud of myself for getting it all out there despite the ridiculousness of the situation—but the planchette doesn’t move. It’s completely still beneath my fingers. No sliding, no jumping, no vibrating, no nothing. Then I think—maybe it only moves if I ask a question?
“Is all that okay? You understand?”
No sooner are the words out of my mouth than the planchette jerks to life, skating around the board like it’s going berserk. It’s all I can do to just keep my fingers on it. Suddenly, the planchette stops its looping and makes a beeline to the alphabet arc at the top of the board. It stops atM, then jerks immediately toU.
Maybe she’s going to say something like, “Must be”? As in, “must be okay”?
But no. The planchette slides toRnext, and then immediately toD, and a knot forms in my stomach. By the time it moves toEmy insides have turned to ice.Oh, no.
R.
The lights go out and a clap of thunder shatters the silence. Tearing my fingers off the planchette, I clap my hands over my mouth to keep from yelping. Unless I’m going crazy—and honestly right now I feel like I could be—this ghost just spelled outmurder.
Fuckthat.
The kitchen’s still dark, save for the flashes of lightning from the storm that seems to have started up outside.Just my freaking luck. I sit stock still, my mind whirring. I’m trying to figure out what to do. My brain is flashing through every single ouija board horror story I’ve ever heard in my life. How could I have been sodumb? Play with the ouija board, she said. It’ll be fun, she said. Yeah—no. And who’s to say that whatever showed up is even the same ghost from last night? What if without meaning to I ended up summoning some kind of evil spirit?
Holy shit. That thought is actually paralyzing.
But I’ve got to keep my head. This is myhousefor Christ’s sake. It’s not like I can kick this ghost or demon or whatever the hell it isout. I’d need a priest or something for that. Or at least Zeke. I bet he could?—
Hold up.
The thought hits me like a chorus of angels descending from the heavens on a beam of celestial light. Zeke lives in my cabin. Zeke ishere.
Suddenly, the only thought left in my brain is that I need—need—to be near Zeke. I don’t care if this ghost is playing mind games with me right now, if she thinks this is some kind of hilarious prank to get back at me for last night. I’m taking zero chances. In this moment, with the crash of the thunder and the eerie presence I swear I can still feel around me, all I want is Zeke’s strong arms and gloating smile.
And so I run. Before I even know it, I’m out of the house, the screen door crashing shut behind me, and streaking across the dark, moonlit lawn. The blood is pounding in my ears, the rain pelting my face, as I hurl myself toward the cabin. I make it to the porch just as another clap of thunder booms overhead and a flash of lightning lights up the entire pitch-black sky.
