Tortured Souls (The Orion Circle) (18 page)

“Call Bowser,” he says, vaulting over the back of the sofa.

“You’re always Bowser,” I say, rolling my eyes. “He’s super slow.”

“Yeah, but he flattens your stupid Yoshi,” he fires back.

“True, but I’m playing Boo this time.”

“He’s a cheat character.”

“No Wario and Waluigi are cheat characters.”

“You’re going down, little sister!”

Game on!

I lose four races in a row, my worst streak ever. Covering my ears with my hands, I block out Gavin’s noisy victory dance. My hands move from my ears to massage my temples. Perhaps playing video games wasn’t such a good idea. The pain has returned with a vengeance.

“Hey, I’ll get your Motrin,” Gavin says, patting the top of my head.

“Thanks,” I reply, leaning my head back against the plush sofa. He returns within moments, and hands me two caplets. “This is it? I think I need more.”

“It’s a prescription,” Gavin says with a chuckle. “Give it a try. Dr. Hayes also prescribed something stronger, but it’ll put you to sleep.”

I swallow both pills at once with a swig of Diet Coke. The doorbell rings, the Westminster chime echoing through the upstairs. My pulse leaps, and I realize how nervous I am about this meeting.

“Looks like your friends are arriving,” Gavin says, rising from the sofa. “Once everyone has arrived, Dad and I will make ourselves scarce.” He stares at me for a few moments in quiet contemplation. “Be careful, Kacie. That doctor has Dad convinced that the Orion Circle only has your best interests at heart. But she doesn’t fool me. You could’ve died Friday night. No one can tell me what you’re doing is safe. I’m not an idiot.”

“But, I need—”

“I know,” he says, cutting me off. “I kept my mouth shut because I know you need these people. You’re different and I suppose that will make your life more dangerous than normal. Just listen to our mother. Be careful.”

“Has she called again?”

“She leaves voicemails on my cell several times a day, every day,” Gavin replies sighing. “She’s really worried, and I think she has reason to be. She seems to think Logan will save you from this danger. And after Friday night, I say stick close to him. He, at least, seems to have your best interests at heart.”

Before I can respond, he disappears out the door. Rolling the red plastic cup between my palms, I wonder about my mother and her sudden interest in me. I’ve been in danger before. The cowboy made my life miserable.

Gritty memories fill my mind—images of a raven-haired girl and two blond boys. Another nightmare? A heavy pressure around my right ankle makes me cry out in pain. Setting the cup on the ottoman, I hike up my leggings to examine my ankle.

I gasp, gaping at the injury as I try to understand what I’m seeing. Four bruises surround my ankle along with several deep scratch marks. Deep, angry purple marks like someone grabbed… my vision returns full force, knocking the breath from my lungs. The sharp, metallic taste of blood fills my mouth, and I realize I punctured my lip with my teeth. That phantom grabbed my ankle in my vision, but how could that affect me in real life?

“Holy hell, Cici,” Daniel says with a low whistle as he plops down on the sofa beside me. “What did that asshole do to you?”

“I-I… who?” I ask, unable to process his words. How did he know about my vision?

“I’ll kill Logan!” Daniel says through gritted teeth. “Rebecca and Carl may be singing his praises, but they obviously haven’t seen this.”

“Logan didn’t d-do this,” I murmur, my voice breaking on the words.

“Hi, Kacie! How’s the head?” Logan asks as he enters the room.

When he sees my ankle, he drops the DVD player he’s carrying onto the ottoman, spilling the cup of soda. I watch it run down the side of the furniture, pooling on the light brown carpet. He sits on the chaise next to my leg and runs a gentle caress over my bruised ankle.

“What happened, Kacie?” Logan asks in a choked whisper.

“That’s what I’d like to know,” Daniel says, glaring at Logan. “I thought you did it.”

“What the… we’ve been friends for five years. How could you… I’d
never
do something like this,” Logan says, his eyes filled with hurt.

“Yeah, well Carl said you were making out with her nonstop Friday night,” Daniel bites back. “Maybe she didn’t like it and you fought.”

“And what? I extended my adamantium claws and scratched her?” Logan yells. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”

It becomes apparent within moments what’s wrong with Logan and Daniel. A frigid cold creeps through the room, settling around me like an icy blanket. He’s here. The phantom in my nightmares, my visions is here. Sharp stabbing pain spears through the skin on my ankle. This faceless specter is feeding off the angry energy between the two guys. It probably instigated the entire argument.

“Stop,” I cry through a hiss of pain. “Can’t you feel it?”

“You’re bleeding,” Logan says, propping my leg on his lap.

As I stare at my leg, three claw marks appear in the skin along my shin just below my leggings. Grisly images fill my head. Pictures of death, human sacrifice, torture. Whimpering, I close my eyes, trying to stop the deluge of horrifying pictures. The cold permeates my pores, soaking into my body.

“Logan, move,” Daniel yells. “Let me touch her leg so I can see what’s wrong.”

I almost forgot he was clairsentient. Daniel’s hand wraps around my ankle, his skin so warm against my chilled body. Shivers course through me all the way from my head to my toes. It feels like something foreign is moving around inside, like insects crawling beneath my skin. When I let out a strangled sob, Logan moves to my side, wrapping his arms around me. I lean against him while Daniel maintains a firm grip on my ankle.

“It’s inside her!” Daniel yells, releasing my ankle as though he’s been burned. “Somehow the spirit is invading her body. We have to drive it out before it can possess her.”

“How?” Logan asks, clutching my shaking body against his chest.

“You could try what you did Friday night,” Rebecca says from somewhere behind us. “When we were at the manor and her visions overwhelmed her.”

“I don’t think a kiss will drive out an evil spirit. I was distracting her to keep this from happening,” Logan says as he brushes the hair from my face. “Kacie, look at me.” He grabs my chin with his fingers, forcing my gaze to meet his. “Fight this thing. You’re stronger than it is.”

I stare into his stricken eyes, wondering how to fight this faceless phantom. “I don’t…” I try to speak, but the words catch in my throat.

Images continue to flash in my brain, horrible pictures of suffering and grief. When gray dots dance in my vision, I welcome them. My hearing becomes hollow as I call to the darkness to take away the mental anguish. Closing my eyes, I allow my mind to separate from the trauma, to drift away to safety.

“Please, Kacie,” Logan whispers in my ear. “Don’t give in. Please.”

His last plea comes out a choked groan. Logan’s in pain. I fight my way back to consciousness, pushing aside the nightmares the demon projects into my mind. Logan needs me. The children need me. I need to be strong in the face of evil. Ugly visions are replaced with fond memories: Logan holding my hand as we walked along the river, opening night of the first musical I starred in, Celia’s excitement when Jake asked her out the first time.

With a sob, I throw my arms around Logan, burying my face in his neck. His scent is soothing—leather and spicy aftershave. I concentrate on his ragged breathing, his scent, the feel of his soft hair curling around my fingers.

“The marks on her ankle and leg are gone,” Daniel says in a relieved murmur.

“It’s going to be okay, baby,” Logan whispers as he strokes my hair. “I think the spirit fled. Her skin is warming up.”

He runs his fingers up my cheek, and smoothes my hair away from my temple. Though my body is still trembling, the frigid cold is gone. I soak up the warmth from Logan’s body, grateful when the tremors begin to die down.

“It was the ghost from Friday night,” I murmur, my lips brushing Logan’s neck as I speak. “The one from Foxblood Manor. He’s been chasing me in my visions these last two weeks. I have to stop him. He’s the one—the one my mother warned us about. She was right.”

Chapter Eighteen — San Antonio’s Dark Past

Chapter Eighteen

San Antonio’s Dark Past

A third slice of meat lover’s pizza plops down on my empty plate courtesy of Daniel. Eyeing the large slice, I wonder how I’ll be able to eat it. Four bites in, I realize I’m still hungry. When Mr. and Mrs. Kincaid arrived right after my near possession, the first thing Mrs. Kincaid told me to do was eat… a lot. Any weakness will be exploited by the spirit, including hunger. Logan hovers at my side, watching for any sign of distress. He hides his worry well as he talks and jokes with the other Circle members. But whenever he glances at me, his smile is weary and his forehead is creased.

I watch Carl set up the DVD player. It should be easy but he’s surrounded by wires, too many to plug into the media center. He brought his own box of supplies.

Who does that?

His face scrunches up in aggravation as he digs through his top secret box. No kidding… he wouldn’t let anyone see his treasures. I’ll never understand techno geeks.

“It’s ready to go, surround sound and everything,” Carl says, dumping the unused cables back into the large cardboard box. “I didn’t need this,” he says, holding up the DVD player. “Your Blu-Ray player will play DVDs.”

“Then what were you doing for so long?” I ask dumbstruck.

“Whoever set up your home theater system did a lousy job,” Carl says shrugging his shoulders. “This baby is too beautiful for a bad wiring job. I fixed it,” he adds, puffed up like a strutting peacock. “Shall I fire it up?”

“Perhaps we should finish eating first,” Mr. Kincaid says, glancing at his wife. She gives a tiny nod. “It’s rather gory.”

“How about some background,” Daniel says before stuffing another bite of pizza into his mouth. “I’m missing a werewolf hunt for this,” he mumbles around a full mouth.

“Michelle and I were up all night doing research,” Devon says from his perch on the arm of the sofa, hovering over Michelle.

“Research? Is that what we call
it
nowadays?” Daniel asks with a snort.

“You weren’t there, dickwad,” Devon bites back, his hands clenched into tight fists. “Mrs. Kincaid, Michelle, and Kacie were all affected by this evil. It’s not something to joke about. Especially after what happened to Kacie earlier.”

“And what did happen to Kacie?” Dr. Hayes asks, entering the room, with Dad following behind like a lost puppy.

Silence fills the room. No one wants to admit what happened with Dad standing there—even if he is under some kind of persuasion spell.

“Adam, we could use some privacy,” Dr. Hayes says to Dad in her sing-song voice. “Would you mind?”

“Actually, yes I do mind,” Dad replies, shaking his head as though to clear it. “Kacie is my daughter. I have a right to know what’s going on.”

“I understand that, Adam,” Dr. Hayes says in her normal voice, her lips curled into a smile. She seems elated that Dad fought her compulsion. “It’s supernatural, though. Logan made it clear that you aren’t exactly a believer.”

“It was there,” Dad mumbles under his breath.

“I’m sorry?” Dr. Hayes tips her head at Dad in confusion.

“The damn treasure was there, under the tree, right where Kacie said it would be,” Dad murmurs, glancing at me with an indiscernible expression on his face. “How can I not believe at least a little after that? Besides, I know my daughter, and I know she’s no liar. Logan was right. I either have to admit she’s insane or accept what she says as true.” His gaze is full of regret. My chest tightens when he gives me a melancholy smile. “I’m sorry I never believed you. It’s so hard, you know. To believe in something you can’t see, something you always thought a myth. What your mother did was a crime. To think, she believed the entire time and just up and left anyway because she couldn’t handle the truth. I’m so sorry, pumpkin. Can you forgive me?”