The Sibyl (12 page)

I responded the only way I knew how. I rose
up just enough to kiss him, hoping to recapture the passion I’d
felt the morning before.

I did. This time, as Elliot wrapped me up in
his embrace, it was better. The uncertainty, the fear of losing
him-all of it melted away in that single moment. When I pulled
away, I found him smiling.

“No, I don’t think us being together could
ruin anything.” I tilted my head to the side as he brushed the hair
away from my face. “This has been coming for a long time, Eli. It’s
time we recognize it.”

“So we’re a thing now.” Elliot grinned. “An
item.”

“Yeah.” I returned his grin. “I guess so. I
can see it now. Valentines Day, telling our folks, going from one
family to the other on the holidays. It’ll be great.”

“No it won’t. Your dad hates me.” Elliot
raised a single eyebrow in my direction. “Especially since I helped
you up and move to California.”

“True.” I let Elliot lift me up so I could
sit on his lap. “He wasn’t too happy when I told him we got the
show. I wouldn’t say he hates you though.”

Elliot started to kiss me again, but he was
interrupted by a knock on the door. I shrugged, disentangling
myself from his arms before crossing the room to answer it. I knew
who it was before I turned the knob though because the same sense
of security which had filled me in the darkness last night was
surrounding me now.

“Cyrus is here.” I opened the door to see the
man brooding over the stack of folders he had taken from me. “And
in such a chipper mood! I don’t know if I can stand so much
happiness this early in the morning.”

“Good morning to you too.” Cyrus ignored my
sarcasm as I stepped aside. He crossed over the threshold just
enough for me to shut the door before he started. “You can’t be
serious about going to these hovels.”

“Hovels?” Elliot stood, crossing his arms
over his chest. “Those aren’t hovels. They are locations where
people need our help.”

“Hovels.” Cyrus stressed the word. “Had you
taken the time to actually read the information I did last night,
you will see why I would come to such a conclusion.”

“No, I didn’t get to read them because you
took them from me.” I pointed out the obvious since he wasn’t going
to. “Remember? You insisted on having a say in where we were going
to be filming.”

“Did he now?” Elliot shook his head as he
resumed the packing he had abandoned earlier. “I told you so.”

“Told you what?” Cyrus refused to look at
Elliot, so he focused on me. The tension between those two were so
thick, it covered the room like a blanket. “It is of no matter. You
are too inexperienced to expose yourself to such places.”

“Give me those.” I reached for the folders
but Cyrus was much quicker than I was. He stepped back, flipping
through them as if they were a deck of cards.

“Great Falls Insane Asylum. Fort Smith
Hospital. Green Lawn Mortuary. Abandoned Pennsylvania coal mine.
Ah, this one is my personal favorite.” Cyrus stopped at a folder in
the middle. “The Black Hollow Murder House.”

“Sounds like quite the tourist attraction.” I
snatched the folder away before Cyrus could stop me. “But a murder
house? Really?”

“Would you like to tell her, or should I?”
Cyrus turned towards Elliot who had come up beside me. “I’m afraid
my memory fails me when it comes to all the gory details you have
highlighted.”

“You’re exaggerating.” Elliot rolled his eyes
as he reached over my shoulder to pull out the single photograph
buried in a mound of papers in my hands. “It’s nothing more than an
old farmhouse in Kansas.”

“A haunted old farmhouse in Kansas, I
presume.” I raised a single eyebrow as I took the picture from him.
“That could be anywhere, Elliot. What’s so special about this
one?”

“It wasn’t just a murder. There was a
suicide, too.”

“Oh, ok. That’s much better, Eli.”

“Alright, fine.” Elliot glared at Cyrus as he
pulled me down into the overstuffed chair in the lounge area of his
room. “This house has been kept in pristine condition since the
time of the murder. The family who remained turned it into a shrine
of sorts. As a result, the spirits stayed behind. Joanna Whitaker,
our contact and descendant of the victim, said the ghosts of her
great-great grandparents appear to her or to anyone who will come
to the house.”

“Alright.” I looked down at the photograph in
my hands. It looked simple enough. A two story, middle class home
found anywhere in the United States. The only difference between
this place and a normal home was the history behind it. “It’s just
an old house. How many spirits are supposed to be there?”

“Two.” Elliot shifted through the papers.
“Samuel and Catherine Tillotson.”

“Two ghosts, as opposed to the hundreds
inhabiting a hospital or an asylum.” I nodded. “Let’s go
there.”

“Eva.” Cyrus said my name as if it were a
warning. “You don’t understand.”

“Oh, come on. Its two people, if they are
even there at all. I can handle two spirits. And you can teach me
more on the flight.”

“What do you mean, handle?” Cyrus glowered at
me much like Elliot had done earlier when I told him Cyrus was
sticking around. After a moment of silence, he scoffed. “No. It is
far too dangerous.”

“It is not.” I shook the picture in my hand,
tapping it against my knee. “I think this could work.”

“So are you going to let me in on this
conversation, or do I need to leave the room?” Elliot had stuffed
his hands in his pockets as he stood between the two of us. “I’d
hate to be an interruption.”

“There is no conversation.” Cyrus sat the
other folders down on the small table by my chair. “Eva has decided
she is going to use the powers of the Sibyl to pull in ratings for
your little project. She is putting herself in more danger than you
could ever imagine.”

“You are so dramatic, Cyrus.” I grinned at
the man so obviously a soldier it hurt. “I am simply using the gift
granted to me to get the messages from the dead out into the open.
Isn’t that the point?”

“No, it is most certainly not. The gift of
the Sibyl is not meant to be used in such trivial manners.”

“Yes, it is. That’s exactly what Kathy Carter
did every day.” I shrugged. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure Apollo
gets the credit he is after. I think that was the original point,
was it not? To pull followers into Apollo’s temple?”

My keeper looked stunned for a second before
he quickly recovered the stoic look he wore so well. “You surprise
me, Little One. Apollo will be pleased.”

“I told you I did some of the reading you
gave me last night.” I ignored Elliot’s obvious displeasure at the
nickname Cyrus had assigned to me. I had also decided it was for
the best not to mention my own attempts at contacting the god
himself. “Then it’s settled. Eli, call Connor and have him book us
a flight to Kansas. We’ve got a show to do.”

There was no easy way to get to Black Hollow,
Kansas. We took the first flight out to Wichita, landing well after
midnight then drove another two hours before we passed the town
sign welcoming us to the heartlands of America. Even in the dark, I
could tell this wasn’t much of a heartland. The two lane road
Elliot was driving us down was lined on both sides by flat
pastures, broken up only by the occasional silo or billboard. Most
of the signs were pointing us back to Wichita, where there were
actual things to attract people to the good state of Kansas.

“Turn right in two miles.”

The mechanical voice of the rental car’s GPS
broke the silence that filled the car. Cyrus was in the back seat,
flipping through his phone and muttering to himself. Elliot kept
his eyes on the road, still refusing to speak to me after I
demanded he get Cyrus a ticket on the plane with us. And me? I was
lost in my own thoughts of what Cyrus had taught me. I kept
imagining my door to the otherworld, adding chains to it then
taking them away. The only way I could ever be helpful was to learn
how to open the door and let the spirits speak for themselves. I
had to learn how to call specific ones forward while pushing the
others away.

“Cyrus, I can call forth specific spirits,
right? Isn’t that what the other Sibyls could do?”

“Yes. It took them years of practice to
accomplish such a feat.”

I took his words for what they were; a
deterrence. I ignored them.

“That’s what I want to learn next.” I shifted
in my seat to face him. “If this is going to work, I need to know
how to ask for the specific souls in the underworld.”

“What happened to you, Eva?” Elliot was
making the right turn onto Main Street when he interrupted me.
“Just a few days ago, you were laughing at the very thought of
ghosts. Now you are trying to contact them?”

“I know it sounds ridiculous.” I chose my
words carefully. “I don’t know how to explain what I’ve seen, Eli.
I’ve told you this already. Besides, you’ve told me at least a
hundred times that there are things in this world we can not
explain. I hate to say this, but I believe I am now one of those
things.”

He grabbed my hand then kissed the back of
it. “And I hate to say this, but maybe you should listen to Cyrus.
You are too new at this life.”

“Indeed she is.” Cyrus tucked his phone into
his jacket pocket. “Perhaps you can convince Eva not to put herself
into unnecessary danger as it seems I have failed. She listens to
you.”

“Last time I checked, I am an adult.” I
frowned. “One who capable to making her own decisions.”

“You are.” Elliot squeezed my hand and placed
it on the armrest between us. “Just promise me you’ll be
careful.”

“Hey, I heard what Cyrus said about being
possessed. I happen to like who I am. I’m not looking to become
anyone else.”

I tried to make light of my words. It was
hard to do so. I was determined, yes. But I was also afraid. Images
of the wild woman in my hotel mirror returned to the forefront of
my mind along with how much I wanted to join her on the other side
of the glass. I chased the memory away with a quick shake of my
head. “I’ll be careful, I promise.”

“We’re here.” Elliot pulled into a small
parking spot right in front of the town’s only hotel. It blended in
so well with the other storefronts, I had a hard time figuring out
just which door we were supposed to go into. As we got out of the
car, Elliot spoke up once more.

“The rest of the crew will be flying in
tomorrow. We’ll call Joanna and set up a time to meet with her.
Find out exactly what is going on before we go to the
location.”

“Alright,” I took a breath as Cyrus climbed
out from the backseat. “We have to come up with a back story for
Cyrus, too. I’m not ready to announce to your production team just
why I need a bodyguard.”

“It’s just a good a cover as any.” Cyrus
leaned against the car as he took in the quiet street. “Elliot has
already told them you were attacked at the conference,
correct?”

I nodded.

“Then tell them I was hired on from a
security firm in New York for your protection.”

“You know,” I paused for only a moment as I
snagged my purse out of the floorboard and went to join Elliot on
the sidewalk. “That makes perfect sense.”

“Come on.” Elliot reached for my hand,
intertwining our fingers. “Let’s get inside. It’s been a very long
night and tomorrow isn’t going to be any better.”

I resisted the urge to snuggle closer to
Elliot’s side with Cyrus following so close behind us. As much as
the move to California was a new start for me, tomorrow would be
the start of what we were here to do. I was nervous, but ready to
face whatever came our way.

Spirits and possessions be damned.

***

I couldn’t sleep. Maybe it was because of
jetlag or the fear of making a complete fool out of myself. More
than likely, it was because I couldn’t shut the damn whispers up. I
had left the mirror packed up in my overnight bag and even after I
moved it into the armoire which served as my closet, I could still
here them. I tried to block them out. I tried to imagine my mental
door. Nothing was working. I finally gave up after burying my head
underneath every pillow and blanket I could find. I climbed out of
bed, threw on my clothes from the trip to Kansas before heading
downstairs.

There was a small lounge area by the front
door decked out in big fluffy couches and chairs. Since the nights
were getting colder out here on the plains, someone had been kind
enough to light a fire in the fireplace against the far wall. I
stopped, curling up on one side of the biggest couch with a sigh of
happiness. The whispers were silent down here. There were no
mirrors decorating the walls; only cheap paintings in even cheaper
frames. It was peaceful.

Quiet.

I stared at the flames jumping around in
front of me, willing them to ease my troubled mind. I decided to go
over everything Cyrus had taught me so far. He was so worried about
what could happen when we went to the farmhouse tomorrow. Me? I was
more worried about what had already occurred. I wanted nothing more
than to forget about the past few days which kept haunting me.

“Can’t sleep?” Cyrus stepped out of the
shadows to hand me a silver flask. “This should help.”

“Liquor?” I looked up to him in surprise as I
accepted the container he pressed into my hand. “I would never have
suspected you were a drinker.”

“It’s not just any liquor.” Cyrus gave me a
look of horror that made me laugh. “You are holding the ambrosia of
the gods in your hands.”

I took the top off and sniffed.
“Whiskey?”

Cyrus grinned as he perched on the armrest of
the chair by my head. “Any strong liquor will do. They don’t call
them spirits for nothing. I happen to like whiskey. Go on. Try
it.”