Dark Paradise (31 page)

His raven-wing eyebrow rises. “Oh, you'd be surprised.”

I giggle.

Landry reaches into the pocket of his robe and pulls out a leather-bound book. “Well, since we're both bored to tears, I've thought of something to help pass the time. Maybe help you get your memory back.”

I lean forward. “What is it?”

“I found this in a box you gave me before you were hurt.” He turns the book over in his hands. “I thought it was
The Color Purple
, but when I opened it, I found the dust jacket concealed the real mystery.”

“Uh-huh, and why would I be interested?”

“Because you like mysteries, and I know you took at least two years of French in school.”

“'Cause we're secret lovers and you know everything about me.”

“That's right.”

I search my feelings for Landry—strong and tightly bound. My mind may not remember the connection between us but my body does. “Okay, I trust you.”

“Good. I need you to read this diary. It belonged to my sister, Lainey.”

I roll my eyes. “What's up with trying to take advantage of the brain damaged, Landry? Ask her about what's in it if it's so important.”

“She's dead, Mala. She wrote these last entries the month before she was killed. It's my last connection to her, and I can't read it because it's in French.” He clenches the book so hard I'm afraid he'll snap the spine.

“And I can decipher it for you?” I rescue the book from his grasp. The leather warms beneath my palms. “How am I supposed to remember how to read French when I can't even remember my name?”

“Open it and try.”

“This is stupid. I shouldn't have this. It's private. Her personal thoughts. It's an invasion—” I sigh. The book opens beneath my hand, and I force my gaze away from the girl with the blue dress who hovers over Landry's shoulder. She wasn't in the room before he showed me the book, but now her presence blazes with a chill so deep it burns.

Landry shivers but doesn't comment on the sudden drop in temperature. “What does she say?”

“That her little brother is a nosy pain in the butt.”

“Seriously?”

I glance at the scowling girl. “Yes, seriously. Geesh.”

It takes a lot of effort to read the first page. The whole time, I feel like a voyeur. “She's talking about how her day went. She and Mommy Dearest argued about her wearing baggy clothing. She goes on for a couple of paragraphs about how angry she feels about being treated like a teenager.”

“Mommy Dearest,” Landry says with a small laugh. “My mom hated when Lainey called her that. What else?”

My head starts pounding again. Part of me wants to call in the nurse and request painkillers. The other part doesn't want to pass out on the first interesting conversation I've had since waking up in the hospital. I lay the book on my lap with a pained sigh.

“Look, is there anything specific you want me to search for?” I ask.

Landry stares hungrily at the book. “Yeah, she had a new boyfriend right before she died. I tried to find a name, but she used some sort of code or something. But maybe there're clues. I need to find out who he is. How they met, and what happened the day she died. That would probably be the last entry. I think she wrote in this every night before bed.”

“Okay, I'll work on it tomorrow.”

“Why not now?”

“I'm tired, Landry. My head hurts, and I want to sleep without having nightmares. I'll work on reading when the words don't make my brain bleed. I promise.”

“This is real important, Mala. Not just to figure out what happened to my sister, but also to help you get your memory back.” He squats beside the bed and lays his head on the blanket. Without thinking about it, I thread my fingers through his hair and brush the tangled strands away from his face in long, soothing strokes. His shoulders shake, and when he finally lifts his head, tears stain his flushed cheeks. He takes my hand.

“You don't remember this, but we went to a psychic named Madame Ruby. Now, don't scrunch up your nose and start arguing with me about there being no such thing as being able to talk to the dead, because there are such things as spirits.”

“Why would I argue?” I whisper, my eyes firmly on his face and not on the shadows that rustle on the edges of the room. Night brings the spirits out in groups, wandering, confused forms that barely hold human shape. Their whispers echo through the room like static on the radio.

“'Cause that's what you did that day. You told me in detail all the reasons why Ruby was a fraud. Looking back on it, I think she knew what she was talking about. She said we'd have to fight to be together, that we'd have to choose between our love for one another and our love for our families. I never thought I'd ever go against my father, but when it mattered, I chose you.”

“I don't understand.” He chose me over his love for his father? Does Landry love me? Is he right that I'm in love with him, but don't remember?

He studies my face then frowns at whatever reflects back. “Don't worry about it now. When it's important, you'll remember.”

“Fine. Whatever.” I blow out a deep breath, sick of the evasions. My brain's too fuzzy to figure out this love business. The energy emanating from what Dr. Rhys had almost convinced me are hallucinations makes my nerves tingle, like I hit my funny bone, but throughout my entire body. If these people are ghosts, then I'm not going crazy. “Tell me about the spirits, Landry. Do you believe they're real?”

“My sister possessed Ruby, and it killed her. I didn't believe that Lainey was powerful enough to do that to a person, but I spoke to the doctor who did the autopsy. Ruby died of a brain hemorrhage.”

“What does this have to do with me?”

“You told me that, if Lainey possessed you, it would blow out your mind. Now you don't remember who you are or what happened to you. I think my sister attacked you.”

“Well, I don't know about that.”

“Did you feel how cold it got when we read the diary? That was Lainey's ghost.” He squeezes my hand. “You've got to believe me.”

I do, and he'll understand when I tell him about the spirits haunting me. Finally, someone who won't think I've lost my ever-lovin' mind. The boy's a blessing and a relief. “Landry, there's something I need to confess—”

The door slams open, and I jump as a man in a uniform bursts into the room. “He's in here!”

George and two other deputies follow him into the room in a determined rush. “Get away from Mala, Prince,” George yells. “Move!”

Landry pushes up from the bed with his hands raised. “What's going on?”

George grabs his upraised arm, spins Landry around, and throws him forward across the bed. I curl my legs up seconds before he lands. “Landry Prince, you're under arrest for attempted murder.”

“Wait! I didn't do anything,” Landry cries, rolling onto his back.

George flips him back over and pulls his arms together so he can clip on handcuffs. “Stop resisting…damn it.”

“You're making a mistake,” Landry says.

“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law—”

“Go to hell!” Landry's voice breaks.

“That's where you're heading, Prince.” George moves until he stands over the bed. A hard smile flits across his lips. “I had enough evidence against you for the judge to sign the arrest warrant. Mala was still holding the bloody knife she used to carve out your eye when I found her bleeding to death. The blood type matches yours, and I bet the DNA will too.”

My mind reels. Betrayal hits hard. My knife…Landry told me he injured his eye in an accident. He lied. Did he shoot me and leave me for dead?

I slide off the bed. “Tell me this isn't true, Landry.”

“I've never lied to you.” He lifts his head and meets my gaze. The tape holding the bandage to his face dangles on his cheek. My stomach clenches at what remains of his eye. Swollen and pus filled, it looks like rotten meat. “I won't start now.”

The deputies drag Landry's unresisting body from the bed. I feel frozen, then realize the chill settling across my skin comes from more than shock. Lainey returns to rescue her brother in vengeance-packed fury. Her rage consumes me and spits me out of my own body.

With a bloodcurdling scream, my body launches through the air at George. My good arm wraps around his waist, and we slam to the ground. I think the reason he lets me bang his head repeatedly on the floor is because he doesn't want to hurt me.

He should've fought back sooner.

P
oor Georgie
, he doesn't look good at all. Blood pours from his broken nose, and his left eye starts to swell shut. That psychotic ghost Lainey possessed me—fucking shoved my soul out of my own body and now uses
me
to wreak havoc on everyone who stands between her and her brother. And I can't stop her!

How can I be suffocating when I don't have a body?
Wheezing, I double over. I reach for George, but my fingers pass right through his bloody face.

“Help me.” I gasp. “Please. Somebody.”

“Mala?” Landry yells, and I jerk upright.

His chest heaves as he jerks his arms, trying to break free of the deputies holding him. He stares, horrified by his sister inhabiting my shell. I look crazed. The whites of my eyes roll, furious. Blood and scratches cover my face, but Lainey doesn't seem to feel pain. She punches and kicks at two gigantic orderlies who try to pin her. Teeth flash as she bites down on one's hand, and blood spurts from the wound when he rips his hand free.

The deputies finally realize where Lainey's headed and drag Landry from the room. He stumbles out but keeps looking over his shoulder at me/Lainey in horror.

“Landry, I'm here!” I push off the ground and run after him. The door closes. I try to stop, but I'm moving too fast. My hands rise to stop myself from running headfirst into the door, and I stumble forward, losing my balance when my hands pass through the frame and wall. I sprawl in the hallway, panting for air that I shouldn't need and trying to figure out if I have any injuries, but I feel no pain.

Once he reaches the hallway, Landry starts fighting. He throws his body sideways, slamming one of the deputies against the wall, then twists to fling the other off. His shoulder slams into the second deputy's jaw. Both of them release their hold, stunned. He breaks free and lurches toward my room. Blood drips from his fingertips where the handcuffs cut into his wrist. His good eye looks puffy, starting to swell. I'm not sure how well he can see, but he remains focused on reaching the door. Reaching me…

I block his path, waving my hand before his face. “I'm here, Landry.” He stumbles to a halt, swaying on unsteady legs. His head dips forward, and his hair falls across his eyes. Blood stains the ebony tips crimson. Only an inch separates us, but I'm not sure it's a distance we can cross.

Vapor condenses in the air between us, and his eye widens. Can he sense me?

A flash of movement comes from behind him. “Watch out.”

The deputies rush Landry from both sides. They use their weight and his distraction to throw him to the ground. He hits hard. One presses his knee into Landry's back, and the other sits on his legs.

I crawl next to him and lay a hand on his back. Landry shivers at my touch, and his good eye closes. The other eye leaks mucus and bloody fluid down his cheek. He begins to shake, and the hairs on his arms stand on end. He feels me!

“Landry, it's me. I'm here.” I run my finger across his back, spelling out my name on his skin.

“Mala?” he whispers.

“Y-E-S, H-E-L-P,” I spell out, then lean back to wrap my arms around myself. The energy that I expended leaves me shaking and dizzy.

“Oh, God,” he whimpers.

“The boy can't help you,” a familiar voice says.

With a yelp, I look up to find the burned soldier standing over me. “Uncle Gaston?”

His scarred lips lift in a half smile. “Ah, you remember me now.”

I take the hand he stretches out to me, and when his fingers close over mine, I cry out, throwing myself into his arms. “You're really here. You can see me. Am I dead?”

“That's the least of your worries.”

I hiccup but force a watery scowl. “Tell me something I don't know.”

Mama steps out of the shadows and whacks me upside the head. Even in spirit form, it stings. “Stupid girl, I thought I warned you not to let Lainey possess you.”

I rub my head ruefully. “Sorry, Mama. I forgot.”

They're back now…my memories. And the reason why I can see Mama and Gaston and why they can communicate with me suddenly hits. I inherited Mama's power when she died. I see and hear the dead. Just like Mama said I would.
Crap!

Mama puts her arms around my waist and pulls me into a hug. “Forgettin's no excuse for lettin' your guard down. Lainey's done stole your body. How are you gonna get her out?”

I sigh. “Hell if I know.”

The door opens to my room, and the bloodied orderlies stagger into the hallway carrying my body. One has Lainey in a bear hug, pinning her arms, and the other holds her thrashing legs.

Uncle Gaston eyes Lainey. “She's a good fighter.”

How dare he be impressed by her?
A surge of anger pushes aside the fear. “Not good enough. The orderlies have her now.”

“Not yet,” Gaston says with another of his ghastly smiles.

Lainey twists her torso and frees a foot, which she jams in the stomach of the guy holding her other leg. Air whooshes out of him, and he falls to a knee. The other orderly loses his grip on her upper body, and she drops to the floor.

“Damn it! Uncle Gaston, do something,” I cry, running forward to grab for Lainey, but I can't touch her. Her eyes meet mine, and she grins savagely and rolls. The orderlies scramble after her. “Make her stop! She's screwing me over. They're gonna lock me in a padded room and throw away the key. Even if I get my body back, I'll be trapped in a psycho ward for the rest of my life.”

“You're not who's important right now, Mala,” Gaston says, reaching his hand out to me. “Are you ready?”

Mama gives me a smile. She takes Gaston's hand then mine, linking us together in a chain. My spirit crackles with the energy flowing between us.

“Why do you keep asking me that?”

Gaston tips his chin in Lainey's direction. “A vengeful spirit can manifest only by tapping into its rage. It's a being lacking in sanity…empathy. Hate consumes Lainey. The more hate she draws on to speak to the living, the less she has to keep her sane. Lainey seeks justice so she can rest. Your job as a spirit guide is to lend her your strength. Are you prepared to send her home?”

Like I have a choice if I want my body back.
“Yes, yes. Whatever I've got to do, I'm ready.”

A commotion draws my attention from Lainey. Dr. Rhys and Dr. Morris run down the hall. Andy, the K-9 deputy, exits the room. Luckily, he hasn't brought Rex, or I'd be getting chunks bitten out of me. He blocks the doctors from passing, and they begin to argue. The two deputies holding Landry pull him to his feet. He sways between them with a dead look on his face, like he's gone catatonic.

George staggers out of my room. He focuses on Lainey and raises his bloody hands toward her in supplication. “Mala, please. We're trying to help—”

Gaston touches Lainey's head. Energy travels into my body. Lainey lurches forward, and her eyes roll up in her eye sockets, like she's touched a live wire. When her eyes pop open again, I stagger. Only Mama's hand keeps me upright. Lainey's blue eyes stare from my face, and I shiver at the fury blazing from the cobalt depths.

“She killed him,” Lainey screeches.

Everyone freezes.

Lainey crouches on the balls of her feet, rocking back and forth like a wild animal. She points a bloody finger toward the middle-age woman who came up behind the doctors. Mrs. Prince, the woman who slapped me silly.

Lainey hisses, but her eyes don't turn from her mother.

“W-what?” Mrs. Prince stammers, backing up. She glances toward the officers holding Landry, and her expression changes. Rage fills her blue eyes, and her back straightens. “What's going on? Why are you arresting my son?”

“We'll explain later, Mrs. Prince.” George tilts his chin at Andy, who blocks Mrs. Prince when she tries to go to Landry, but his eyes never leave my body. “Mala…”

“Mala's gone,” Lainey snaps, then smiles. Blood stains her teeth. “Just me. Only me,” she singsongs in a voice that sends chills across my skin. “Mommy Dearest killed my baby. She buried my son in the roses.”

Mrs. Prince pales beneath her heavy makeup. “What did she say?”

“Mala, you're not making any sense,” George says, keeping his voice calm.

Landry's head lifts, but he holds his body unnaturally still. He glances at Lainey then stares right at me. My hand lifts, and he flinches. “She's Lainey, George. Not Mala but my sister.” He looks back at his mother's bloodless face. “Mom, is Lainey's baby…” He pauses, swallowing hard. “Did you bury the baby in the garden?”

“Shut up, Landry. You're not helping,” George yells.

“She killed my baby,” Lainey sings.

“Don't…” Mrs. Prince stumbles backward. Andy reaches out to take her arm, but she twists free. “How…”

“Why, Mom?” Tears run down his cheek as Landry whispers, “Tell the truth.”

“Tell the truth,” I echo, infusing power from Gaston and Mama into the order.

Mrs. Prince twitches, like she hears me. Her eyes glaze, and her head jerks toward Landry. “Family first, Landry. Lainey's behavior brought shame upon us. I couldn't let her damage your father's reputation by giving birth to a bastard.”

Tears fill Lainey's blue eyes. “She refused to take me to the hospital. She let me bleed to death.”

Uncle Gaston removes his hand from Lainey's head and places it on her shoulder. She shudders, leaning against his knees. “It's done. The truth's out,” Gaston tells her, then looks at me. “Mala, are you ready?”

My hands tingle, and my vision blurs. I'm sucked forward, spinning, then, with a lurch, my position changes. My knees ache. The skin on my face burns. I raise my hands…my hands…my body.

“I'm back!” I yell, so happy I want to jump up and dance. The orderlies get their second wind and start toward me again. I give a Lainey-inspired growl, and they freeze.

Landry's knees buckle, but he's held upright by the two deputies. He looks broken. I want to throw my arms around his neck and squeeze all the sadness out of him. His eye lifts to my face.

“Mala?” he mouths.

I nod, putting a finger to my lips, shushing him.

Lainey appears beside Mrs. Prince, an invisible wraith only I can see.
Lucky me.
She touches her mother's cheek. “Mala, she can't hear me anymore. I begged her to help us, but instead of calling an ambulance, she called James.”

“Who's James?” Lainey grimaces at me like I'd been dropped on my head too many times as a child, and the puzzle pieces finally come together in horrifying detail. “Saints, I'm stupid. James Rathbone. The only doctor your mama would feel comfortable telling her secret to. That's why he faked the autopsy results. To hide the fact that you delivered the baby.”

Mrs. Prince thinks I'm speaking to her. She covers her face with her hands. “I thought James would help her. He promised to keep the birth a secret and help find a home for the baby. But he couldn't stop the bleeding.”

“More likely, he didn't
want
to stop the bleeding,” I say. “It was better for him if his secret got buried. But you could've called an ambulance. You could've saved her.”

“I begged Lainey to stay with me, but she died in my arms. Imagine my pain upon hearing that James tossed my baby girl into the swamp like trash. But I'm glad I decided to keep that tiny piece of her close to me. Every day I see their spirits in the vibrancy of my roses.” Mrs. Prince squeezes her eyes shut, but when they reopen they remain dry. She smiles slightly. “This year my roses will finally beat March Dubois's in the annual garden competition.”

Talk about sane on the outside, but ewwy gooey on the inside. I guess it is true what they say about crazy people not knowing that they're stark raving nuts.

Then the implications of what Mrs. Prince is saying sinks in. “Oh my God! That bastard—” I swallow around the lump in my throat and spit the words out. “Rathbone knew it was only a matter of time before Mama exposed him to the police. His first attempt to get rid of her failed, so he came up with a better plan.” I shake my head. “What I don't get is how. How did he convince two other men to help him murder someone in cold blood?”

Mrs. Prince answers my question with hardly any inflection in her voice, like she stands outside of herself. “James twisted my husband's grief.” She squeezes her own hands together as if in prayer. “I helped too. I begged my husband to avenge our daughter. And he did. I just never thought Landry would help, but he's such an obedient son.”

“Mom, no!” Landry yells. “I didn't help Dad. I saved Mala!”

Mrs. Prince ignores her son the same way she ignored her daughter when Lainey begged her to take her to the hospital. She glances at Andy who started down the hallway at her words. “You're too late. My husband's gone.” Madness tinges her rising voice. “I protected him at the expense of my own child, yet he abandoned me.”

Lainey lets out a little cry, turning toward her brother. The energy powering her dims like a draining light bulb, making her appear less substantial—a ghostly copy of her former self, slowly fading away.

“It's time for us to take Lainey home, Mala,” Gaston says.

He and Mama leave my side and go to Lainey. She takes their outstretched hands and smiles. “Good-bye, Mala. Thank you.”

Mama gives me a little wave and disappears.

The reality of their absence hits hard.
I'm alone.
“Oh God,” I wail, falling onto my backside. “Mama's really dead.”

Images, hard and heavy, rush into my mind. Fire. Death. Mama screaming as I try to break free from the man holding me so I can help her. Stabbing the man—stabbing Landry. The knife sliding through his eye like jelly. Landry in the hospital, telling me he'd been injured in an accident. Oh God, how could I have forgotten?