Ghost Huntress Book 6: The Journey (9 page)

“Oh, my God!” Celia shouts.

“Help him!” I add.

“I can’t handle this.” Maddie rushes out of the room, Jessica right on her heels.

Patrick looks over at Jason.  “Help me!”

I stand back as the two of them grab Christian from either side.  Oliver, shaking off the attack, places his hands on Christian’s face.  “Come back, Christian.  Kick him out.  Take your body back.”

Reaching down, I grab the Ouija board and sling it across the room, away from Christian.  Jayne cowers on the floor in front of me, so I stoop to wrap my arms around her.  She whimpers in my ear and I whisper that it’ll be okay.  I hope I’m not lying.

Christian tries to take a swing at Jason, but he holds on tightly.  As does Patrick.  It’s nice to see these two working together instead of against each other.  The three men continue to wrestle around, with Oliver doing his best to bring Christian out of the trance.

And then, just like that, Christian pops back to reality, his breath ragged.

Patrick helps Jason up, and then Jason offers Christian his hand.  The young Scot refuses the assistance and stands up on his own, wiping his hands down the side of his jeans.  He crosses the room and retrieves his precious Ouija board, tucking it back into his bag.  Jayne shivers in my arms as I hug her tightly to me.

“Why don’t you go on out to the bus,” I suggest.  “Taylor, walk Jayne out?”

“Of course,” she says.  She gets her camera and then ushers Jayne out of the room.

Lady Hewitt nearly faints over onto her couch and then begins crying.  “I want you out of here, straight away.”

Oliver tries to catch his own breath.  “I understand.  We’re very sorry, Lady Hewitt.”

I don’t blame her one bit.  This was completely out of hand.

As we’re leaving the castle, Christian and I are the last ones out.  He levels his icy-gray stare at me as a sneer crosses his face.

“That went quite nicely, don’t you think?”

He’s completely out of control.

Back at the hotel, I sit out on my balcony overlooking the city and try to call Father Mass.

“How many hours am I ahead of Georgia?” I ask to no one.  The time change has me completely messed up.  I don’t know if I’m going to wake the father up or interrupt him during a church service.

Neither.  The call goes to his voice mail.

“You’ve reached the voice mail of Father Massimo Castellano.  Please leave a message at the tone and God bless.”

Beep.

I take a deep breath.  “Hi, Father Mass.  It’s me, Kendall, calling from across the pond.  How British of me, huh?” I giggle at my nervousness.  “Listen, things are, like, really weird here.  There’s this kid from Scotland who’s an up-and-coming TV-wannabe psychic and he’s into using a Ouija board during our investigations.  Both times he’s connected with this alleged demon named Dojo that’s been haunting him since he was a little kid.  I don’t know if he’s for real of if this is all a bunch of hooey, but I just wanted to let you know.  Maybe you and Loreen can help us figure out what’s going on.”  I pause and catch my breath.  “Miss you guys.  Call me or e-mail.  Thanks.”

I click the phone off and stare out at the London skyline.

I call out to the sky.  “Anona, I sure wish you’d help me.  I don’t know whether this Christian guy is for real or what.”

I hold my breath a full twenty seconds hoping my spirit guide will appear to me.  But nothing.  Damn ghosts… don’t show up when you really need them.

Although
someone
joins me.

“Hey, Kendall,” I hear a small voice.

I turn to see the young blond push her glasses up higher on her nose.  “Hey, Jayne.  What’s up?”

She sits next to me and fiddles with the hem of her shirt.  “I wanted to thank you for helping me tonight.”

“No worries,” I say.

“I’m still new to all of this and it’s a bit frightening experiencing things.  I’m a bit scattered over my emotions and trying to sort them all out,” she says in her thick Scottish accent.  “I used to watch
Most Haunted
all the time, but I never thought I’d be actually going on ghost hunts myself until I started seeing ghosts.”

Reaching out for her hand, I say, “I’m still getting used to all of this myself.  Unfortunately, there’s really no learner’s manual to tell us how to think, feel, act, or whatever.  We just have to figure it out as we go along.”

“Right-o,” she says.  “You were brilliant tonight.”

I shrug.  “Not exactly.”

“And don’t you think Christian was brilliant, too?”

Not exactly.
  “To be honest with you, Jayne, I’m not sure what I think of Christian.”

Her eyes widen.  “He’s amazing.  He’s so strong and confident.  I want to be poised like him.  I’m so bloody lucky to have won this chance to study with him.  But even more so, I get to know all of you, as well.”

I don’t want to bust this girl’s flavor over my own intuition about Christian.  Instead, I reassure her.  “I’m here for you any time you need me.  We’re going to be together all summer, so whatever I can do to help.”

She smiles brightly.  “That’s fantastic.”  Then she closes her eyes for a second and opens them again.  “I just had a psychic flash.  Patrick is in the Urban Garden meditating.  I think he had a lousy day.”

“We all sort of did.  I think I’ll go see him.”

I stand up to leave and Jayne grabs my hand again.  “You’re the best, Kendall.”

 *~*~*

Patrick’s sitting under the garden tent with his eyes closed, strumming out a Beatles tune on his guitar—appropriately so considering where we are—when I find him.  I unobtrusively tug out a chair and ease down into it beside him.

He must sense my presence because he cracks open his left eye and peers over at me.  A weak smile crosses his face and he stops playing.

“Hey, you,” I say.  “Sounds nice.”

“The boys from Liverpool.”

“And a little alone time for you,” I add.

“Yeah, I needed it,” he says.  “Things aren’t right.”

I sigh.  “I know.  I’ve been all tingly today.  And that experience with Princess Diana tonight.  That was just… wow.  I have no other words.”

He sets the guitar down on the table in front of him and cricks his neck.  “I don’t know, Kendall.  Maybe this trip wasn’t a good idea.  I thought we’d have fun, but this is…
intense.
”

I want to reach out to him, but his body language isn’t exactly open at the moment.

“Do you think that was seriously the Princess of Wales I saw tonight?”

“There’s no telling.  This land is wrought with spirit activity.  And we were near where she used to live.”

Dreamily, I say, “I’ve so admired her and have cried over YouTube videos of her funeral with those two little princes walking behind her casket.  The whole world mourned for her.  What an amazing soul to have affected so many people.  I just don’t want to think of her spirit being restless.”

Patrick turns to me.  “I’m sort of blown away by it, too, even though I didn’t see her.  Maybe it’s another spirit reaching out to you
as
her.”

I cock my head to the side.  “Is that possible?”

Another boy shrug.  “I don’t know.  We’re still sort of learning all of this as we go along.”

“Tell me about it.”

We sit in silence for a moment, listening to the city sounds around us.  A police siren.  Cars passing underneath.  Voices from a nearby balcony.  The smell of Korean Pho from a street food truck.  Somewhere nearby, a television sounds out the BBC’s evening broadcast.  A rumble of thunder overhead signals an oncoming shower.

Relaxing for nearly the first time today, I let my guard down.  Curtain-falling the white light I’ve kept so tightly around me.  So much so that I haven’t even let Patrick in.  I miss my connection with him, though.

I slide my hand up his arm, up onto his shoulder, and slip my fingers into his thick hair.  He turns his dark eyes onto me and smiles.

“I love being here with you,” I say in a whisper.

“Me too,” he agrees.  “I’m sorry I’ve been closed off.  My intuition has me all jittery.  And I’m worried about my dad, too.”

Kneading at his neck, I ask, “He’s doing okay, right?”

Patrick nods.  “Yeah.  He’s good.  I just hate that I’m not there for him.  Especially when he didn’t leave my side after my diving accident.”

Patrick nearly died when he was diving in Barbados with his dad and got his regulator caught.  He panicked and sliced the hose with his dive knife, nearly drowning before he was revived.  That’s when he awakened with his own psychic abilities.  And now, we’re totally connected with each other, so much so, that I can literally feel his heartache right now.

I want to ease his pain and let him know how much I love him, even though neither one of us have voiced the actual words.

“You’re dad’s a great guy,” I say.

“He really likes you,” Patrick says, his eyes glancing down at where our fingers are entwined.

I giggle. “And so do you.”

He laughs and squeezes my hand.  “Yeah.  Whatever.”

I reach up and tug at his hair over that comment and he yelps.

He pulls me into a bear hug and wrestles around with me for a moment as I squeal like the girl that I totally am.  Then he gets still and serious, lifting his hand to cup my face.  He’s got that dreamy look in his eyes that he gets right before he moves in to kiss me.

And I
want
him to kiss me.  I need him to kiss me.

As he moves in slowly, I turn my head and suddenly a memory of another kiss slips into my thoughts.  I try desperately to block the recollection, but it’s too late, and it transfers to my psychic boyfriend’s mind.

He jolts back and pushes away from me.  Horror and disgust cover his face.  “You
kissed
Jason Tillson?  Right here?”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“Patrick, I can explain!  It wasn’t—”

He waves me off.  “You don’t have to explain, Kendall.  I can
see
it.”  Then he wipes at the air between us.  “God, I don’t want to see this.”

I reach out for him.  “It wasn’t me.  It was all him.”

“Right.”

“I pushed away from him, Patrick.”

He glowers at me.  “You know, I was cool with him being on this trip because I know how protective he is of Taylor.  But, I’ve had my doubts about his motives from day one when it comes to you.  I’ve never trusted him.”  Patrick’s eyes sear with mine.  “Apparently, I can’t trust you, either.”

“That’s completely unfair!  I can’t control another person, Patrick.”

“You can control yourself.”

He did
not
just go there.  “I didn’t do anything!  He kissed me.”

It must’ve meant something, Kendall.”  Patrick lightly taps his finger on my head.  “I saw the memory.  It’s in there.  You want it in there.”

I shake my head, hoping it will knock that memory out onto the floor where it’ll roll away into the darkness of the night.

“He does still have feelings for me,” I admit honestly.

“That’s apparent,” Patrick says.

“I don’t still have feelings for
him
,” I stress.

“That is
not
apparent.”

I slam my hand down.  “God, Patrick!  Why are you being so stupid?  Boys can be so stupid.”  I want to tell him I love him.  I want to say those three words.  He can obviously hear them in my mind.  Why won’t he say them?  Why should I have to say them first?  “You have to trust me.  Jason and I are over.”

“I want to believe that.”

“Well, believe it.”

We sit in silence momentarily.  I can almost hear the second hands ticking away on some unseen clock.  My heartbeat picks up to a near in-need-of-medication pace.

Then I think,
I love you…

And nothing.

Patrick slowly stands up and sulks off.

“You can’t walk out on me,” I beg.

“Yeah, I can.”  He sighs and stares at the ground.  “Today was exhausting.  I’m worried about Jayne and her attachment to Christian.  I think Christian’s a dick, and I just don’t feel as bonded and connected to you since Jason Tillson came back to Radisson.”

I stand up and face him.  “You’re the most important thing to me.  None of those things matter, Patrick.  You and I are the only thing that matter.”

Please believe me!

Silence.

Patrick shakes his head and leans over to grab his guitar.  Without speaking another word—verbally or psychically—he leaves me standing there as he heads off to his room.

The thunder booms again and the rain begins to spray down on me.

All I can do is stand here and get soaked.

I’m shaken awake by a loving hand.

“Come on, Kendall.  Time to get up,” Aunt Andi says.

“I don’t want to,” I mumble from underneath the covers.  “I had a crappy night.”

She mercilessly pulls the blanket away from me.  “But you’re going to have a wonderful day.”

I tuck my head under the mountain of pillows and moan.  My head hurts from overthinking everything that’s happened since I touched down here in the United Kingdom.  My eyes ache from crying myself to sleep after Patrick walked out on me.  “London sucks.”

My aunt cracks up laughing at me and then climbs up onto the mattress.  The allegedly mature adult that’s supposed to be my responsible chaperone begins to jump up and down on the bed like a kid away at camp for the first time.

Bounce.

Bounce.

Bounce.

“Get up, Kendall!”

My sensibilities are being jostled around like chicken in a Shake and Bake bag.  I grip the headboard for stability while my aunt continues her attempt to woman-handle me out of bed.

“Andi!  Stop it!”  She lands flat on her bum next to me and rolls over, dog-piling me with her weight.  “How old are you?”

She laughs at me.  “Come on, sweetie.  Oliver’s giving you guys the day off.  You’ve been working too hard and not getting the chance to enjoy this amazing city.  And for that matter, neither have I.  I’ve been scoping out art galleries and talking to artists and photographers.  I need some girl time with my favorite niece.”

I turn into her outstretched arms and accept the warm, inviting hug.  She’s the closest thing I have to my living biological family and I find that I love her deeply.  She pets my unruly mess of sleep-mussed hair and I feel a deep ache in my throat, constricting an emotional lump that threatens to bring on tears.  Okay, so it does bring on tears.  I sniff into the pillow as the hot, salty sobs begin again.