Sometime Yesterday (27 page)

*

Natalie shot straight up and gasped for breath, holding her chest as she wheezed in an attempt to draw clean air into her lungs. She saw her familiar bedroom furniture and heard the rhythmic ticking of the clock on her nightstand.

She covered her face with her hands and trembled; her nerves and system were shot. She was so done with these nightmares. A small lavender scented breeze washed over her.

“Hurry, love, we have to go.”

“Sarah?” Natalie wanted to cry. Was she really awake or stuck in the past again? She looked at the clothes she put on before she went to bed and looked at the clock. Sun streamed in through the open window, and she knew it had been raining when she came home. Had she really been out for nearly twenty-four hours? She had to go to the bathroom.

Natalie felt sluggish and stiff when she came back out and stretched.

“He’s coming.”

Natalie twitched when she heard Sarah’s whisper but couldn’t see her. The crystal knob turned and her door swung open.

“Hurry!”

*

Van bent over with her hands on her knees and gulped air in an attempt not to throw up. When she felt the nausea pass, she went to the cooler to get another bottle of water and sat on the front porch stairs. Her hands shook, but she managed to call Rory and tell him what she found. He told her to stay away from the cellar; he would come check it out. What should she tell the crew that was due back any minute?

A strange car pulled up the drive and Van stared at the occupants and realized it was Natalie’s mother in the driver’s seat. She felt a rush of relief and rushed to the car to help her out. She assumed that the large man next to her was Natalie’s father.

Colleen paled. “Her car isn’t here. Where’s my daughter?”

“She drove up to the city to deliver some paintings.”

“Brian.” Natalie’s father said and shook Van’s hand.

“Something’s wrong. I can feel it.” Colleen pointed at the house. “I found the connection—”

Van opened her mouth to tell her they had already found it and much more, but noticed the bedroom window was open. She was certain it was closed when she arrived that morning. Her stomach twisted painfully and she sprinted for the door.

Brian fumbled with the key. “It won’t open.”

Colleen snapped impatiently, “Well, jiggle it then.”

“I
am
jiggling it, Colleen. It won’t open.”

Rather than jump into the conversation or do what she knew was worse, asking for a chance to work the key, Van went around the side of the house to the unlocked back door, trying not to think about the skeleton she’d found. She ran through the kitchen on her way to the front entry. She slipped on something and found herself flat on her back staring at the ceiling.

Van attempted to rise, but her legs went out from under her again. She looked at the floor and was shaken to see the puddle of blood. Bile rose to the back of her throat nearly choking her. “Natalie?” She slipped and slid her way to the front door, leaving bloody footprints in her wake. What happened in here? She was almost blind with terror when she reached for the handle and pulled.

“It won’t open!” she yelled through the wood. She felt it shake and Brian told her to step back, he was going to kick it again. The door unlatched and swung open and he landed on the floor.

Van stood in the foyer, looked at Colleen, and began to hyperventilate. “Don’t you see the blood?” It covered her clothes and she could see it dripping off the walls,

Natalie’s father awkwardly gained his feet then patted her shoulder. “There’s no blood here.”

Oh God, she was losing her mind. “I swear there was a huge puddle of blood right there.” Van pointed to where she slipped and fell. She turned a circle; the blood was gone, no traces remained.

The front door slammed and darkness fell around them. Several screams that seemed to come from every direction at once pierced Van’s ears, and she heard Colleen gasp next to her.

She gripped her hand but couldn’t say a word past the fear pounding in her throat.

A small orb appeared in the living room, increasing in size incrementally until Van could see Richard’s image form and float cross-legged two feet above the floor. He opened his mouth and a high-pitched giggling filled the silence. The sound was horrible and Van could only liken it to the sound of fingernails on a chalkboard, grating on her nerves until she wanted to scream.

Colleen started to mumble, though Van couldn’t tell if it were a prayer or an incantation. It was probably a little of both. Her blood turned to ice in her veins and she could only stare in disbelief at the apparition.

Richard looked at each of them, but his horrible gaze stopped at Brian. “You do have the look of Henry,” he said. “He was a bit of a rake, you know. I paid off a few of his whores who claimed they carried his issue. Come here, son. Let me look at you.”

Van looked at Brian. He was a little pale, but he wasn’t cowering. “I’m not your son. I don’t claim any part of you. What do you want?”

A strong wind rushed through the foyer and living room, carrying Richard to the second floor right before a door slammed upstairs.

Brian opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by laughter that shook the window panes. The cold wind continued to whip around them and she shivered.

Van didn’t even pause before she climbed. She took the stairs two at a time. When she got to the landing, the door to the third floor studio opened with a crash. She slowed and cautiously approached the door. The laughter stopped and the quiet was much more disturbing.

Natalie’s parents caught up with Van. She stared into the dark entryway she knew should be streaming with light in the afternoon sun. She wasn’t afraid to admit she was terrified of going any further.

She wanted to run in the opposite direction but climbed the stairs anyway to reach the top first. An old man rocked in a chair in the dim glow of a gaslight burning in the corner. He appeared much smaller; his face was so thin it looked almost skeletal through the paper thin skin stretched over his sharp cheekbones.

Now what was she supposed to do? What do you say to an insane ghost? Go home?

Richard stopped rocking and covered his ears. “Can’t you hear them? They never shut up.” He looked around the room, madness radiating from him. “They’re laughing at me.”

Van tensed when his horrible gaze settled on her. “Why don’t you just go back to hell, Richard?”
she snapped contemptuously. “Your parlor tricks are getting old.”

“When will you learn that I am in charge here and that my word is law?” He began coughing, gasping for breath while he raised his hand weakly to point at Brian. “You are my legacy.”

Brian stepped forward and thrust his face closer to the wheezing old man. “I ain’t your jack. Get out of this house.”

Richard appeared to grow older right before them, shrinking in size and demeanor. “You spawned another bitch that needs to be taught a lesson.” He looked over their shoulders and his dark eyes spit hatred. “No, you can’t make me leave. This is my house.” He rubbed his claw hands together in glee. “But I taught her, didn’t I?” Richard threw his head back and cackled. “I taught them all!”

“I found Sarah, you murderous asshole.”

“What?” Colleen grabbed her arm. “Where?”

Richard’s eyes glowed red and the wind picked up again until it reached gale force in the small room and nearly knocked Van off her feet. She saw Colleen hit her knees and crawl after a small glass vial that rolled across the floor. The windows blew open and over the howling rush, Van could hear shouting outside and remembered the returning crew and their orders to finish digging out the area for the fountain.

“It looks like a coffin!”

“No!” Richard bellowed to the men outside. “You can’t have her. She’s my property and she belongs here.”

She knew in that instant that Beth’s body had been found, but something was still nagging at her.
Think. Think.
The situation was out of control, and Van felt as if she were swimming through molasses.
Demons, skeletons, and what?

The open window.

“Natalie!” she yelled then turned to run down the stairs.

Richard’s head snapped around to look at her. He lifted a bony arm, pointed at her, and screeched.

She froze in mid-step and pain exploded in Van’s head. She covered her ears then fell to the floor. She felt Brian cover her body with his own.

“You’re weak, like my father!” Richard screamed at him. “She is not of your blood, but descended of a fucking servant bastard that my mother tried to pass off. She has no value.”

Richard laughed and made a loose fist. “I can stop your heart. You are nothing,” he said to Van. “Just like her.” He tightened his bony fingers.

Van’s chest constricted and lights danced in her vision then began to dim. Black butterfly wings fluttered frantically at the edge of her consciousness, then slowed.

And stopped.

Van felt a hand brush her cheek and she opened her eyes to the brightest light she had ever seen, pure, clean light that bathed her in warmth. She marveled at the hue of the grass under her and the flowers that bloomed in impossibly vivid colors she’d never come across before.

“Vanessa.”

She turned her head toward the voice and her heart filled with joy.

“Mom?”

*

Natalie was almost to the bedroom door when the house went dark. The door in front of her closed again, and she beat her fists against the wood. “Please let me out.”

Raised voices from outside brought her attention to the window and she rushed over to scream for help. People were milling around a deep hole. Was that a police officer? The men were lifting something out.

“There’s a skeleton in here!”

In the same instant, a boom shook the house and the floor buckled in waves under her feet. Screams sounded from upstairs and Natalie recognized her mother’s voice. Natalie’s adrenaline pumped so hard, she felt as if she flew to the door that opened instantly at her touch. Not stopping to wonder how, she reached the studio in time to see her mother throw something at Richard, who was—
oh God
—solid in the room. Her mother was chanting in Latin; she recognized the language but didn’t know the meaning of the words.

She noticed her father hunched over in the far side of the room. Natalie’s vision narrowed to the jean-clad legs and familiar boots he huddled over. “No!” she screamed and tried to run, but her feet felt nailed to the floor and she couldn’t move.

“You’re too late!” Richard laughed. “Again.” The laughter turned to a shriek when the water her mother was flinging sprayed over him, melting the flesh until it fell away to reveal a black skull. The jaw snapped open and closed with a horrible clicking sound.

A high-pitched keening wail filled the room and stabbed Natalie’s nerve endings before it was abruptly cut off when Richard’s skull fell off his neck and he disappeared.

The force that held her in place vanished, releasing her to run over to where her father was performing CPR on Van’s body. “I’ve called the ambulance.” Her mother said.

“No. No. No,” Natalie cried while she dropped to her knees beside Van and patted her face. “Please come back. You can’t leave me again.” She saw the strain in her father’s face then positioned herself so she could help.

Time stretched into an eternity while her father counted four compressions. He nodded to Natalie and she took a deep breath to give to Van. She felt a static shock where their lips touched.

One. Two. Three. Four. Breathe.

Again.

“Please, Van,” she whispered. Van’s lips softened beneath hers a split second before she opened her eyes. “Oh, thank God.” Natalie was so relieved; she cried and laughed at the same time.

Her father leaned weakly against the wall and patted Van’s shoulder. “Welcome back.”

The turret windows shattered inward and Natalie screamed.

Maniacal laughter shook the walls and vibrated through the floor before Richard appeared again, showing no trace of the old man. Seven feet tall, he towered over them. “Oh, this is priceless. Did you really think it would be that easy? You stupid bitches
never
learn.”

Natalie felt her hope draining away and hung her head. She didn’t know what else to do. A red drop fell from her face onto her knee and then another.

The key.

The air compressed around her, making her sluggish and heavy, but she finally understood. She managed to grip a shard of glass in her numb fingers and slashed the sharp edge across her palm. “My blood.”

Natalie looked at Van who was fumbling to get in her pocket. She handed the locket to Natalie before piercing her own hand.

“My blood,” she said.

Richard stopped laughing.

Natalie’s fingers were slippery, but she managed to open the catch and get the braided lock of hair across her palm before clasping it to Van’s open hand. They raised their joined arms.

“Our blood.”

“No. You can’t do this!” Richard began to shake violently when a mist started to form behind him and quickly took shape. He tried to cringe away from it. “No!” he screamed. “Go away! I killed you both.”