Page 18 of The Ghost and the Graveyard (Knight Games 1)
The spectral crone gave an exasperated sigh and dissolved into mist.
"Th-thank you," I stuttered.
"You're welcome."
I was about to ask who he was and where he had come from when I noticed smoke. After everything else, was the house on fire? I searched for the source.
Gray tendrils curled up from his feet.
"You're on fire!" I said.
It advanced up his limbs, to his knees, to his hips, until the man was nothing but a mist with two green orbs where his eyes had been.
It was the loudest scream of my life. "Aaaaaahhhhhhhh!"
I don't remember opening the door, and I didn't stop for my shoes. I ran into the cool night air, arms flailing, with an unyielding, high-pitched screech that was sure to wake any soul within a five-mile radius. Across the bridge and up the walkway, I raced to the stone cottage of the only other living person I knew in Red Grove-Rick Ordenes. I don't remember knocking, only that the door opened and there was Rick.
"It was awful," I whimpered. I grabbed his shoulders. My hands slapped bare flesh. My wild eyes roved down his body: bare shoulders, bare chest, bare stomach, and OH! He was ... naked.
But that wasn't the most disturbing thing. His once-gray eyes had turned black as onyx, and he didn't look happy to see me. Then I caught sight of what was behind him.
The entire inside of the stone cottage glowed like a shrine. Candles flickered. Crosses reflected the light. Skulls-human skulls circled the room. A painting of a skeleton woman dressed like the Virgin Mary loomed against the far wall. And that was all I saw because, at that point, my overwhelmed brain decided to turn off.
I'd never been prone to fainting, but the world tilted on its axis, threatening to toss me unfettered into the black universe. I collapsed backward, expecting to crack my head against the stone walkway.
The last thing I remember is Rick catching me in his arms as the darkness closed in around me.
Body and Soul
Between terror and oblivion, I lost track of time. I came to somewhere soft and warm with the sun turning the inside of my eyelids red and the stench of dirty feet curling my nose. I tentatively opened one eye and noticed a new ugly bouquet on what was undeniably the nightstand in my new house. A good sign. I opened the other eye and surveyed my surroundings.
The quilt under my chin was the one from my master bedroom. I was back in my house, in my own room. Had Rick carried me home and put me to bed?
I peeked under the covers. I was still wearing my scrubs. The good news? Rick had not taken advantage of me in my fragile state. The bad news? Rick had returned me to a haunted house and, by the looks of it, was some kind of hoodoo witchdoctor.
If I didn't get my head around what happened last night, I was at serious risk of a mental breakdown. I sat bolt upright. Maybe this was it? Were hallucinations a symptom of a nervous breakdown? I was a nurse. Why couldn't I remember the symptoms of a nervous breakdown? I needed to call Michelle.
My phone vibrated against my cheek, not because of an incoming call but because of my shaking hands. I listened to the ringing on the other end of the line. Pick up, pick up, pick up. Brutal disappointment plowed into me when Michelle's voicemail answered. I left a hasty, probably incomprehensible message and hung up.
Worse, I didn't even have work to distract me. I had the whole day off. A full twenty-four hours in a house where I'd seen (or hallucinated) two ghosts.
A full-blown panic attack rocked my body. My heart started to pound. I rubbed my aching chest as my breath came in ineffective pants. I was hyperventilating. Tangled thoughts jumbled through my mind, truth and dream, reality and fantasy. I cupped my hands over my mouth and nose and tried to slow my breathing. Eventually, the panic seemed to find its way out of me in a parade of fat tears, and I bawled into my hands.
"Shhh... Please don't cry," a man's voice said low and soft, like to calm a skittish animal.
I leaped to my feet, eyes darting around the room. "Who's there?"
No answer.
I moved from the bed and backed toward the hallway. No one by the window or on either side of the walnut highboy. I turned sideways and shuffled toward the cracked-open closet, ready to Tae Bo the crap out of anything that moved. I delivered a roundhouse, using the top of my foot to kick the door the rest of the way open. It slammed against the opposite wall and bounced partially back. Ow. I rubbed the point of contact, hopping backward as I peered inside.
Empty, aside from my underwhelming wardrobe.
Only one place left to look. The door to the room was left open, potentially hiding an assailant between it and the wall. I approached cautiously, knowing I could be in grave danger, slowly, silently, reaching... I yanked the knob and stuck my head behind the door.
Nothing.
That was it. I'd imagined a comforting male voice in my bedroom. I was losing my mind.
