Chapter 12
"How's Shawn doing?"
Daija smiled wanly, popping a chip in her mouth and crunched down on it. She was having lunch with Hunter at the local diner, sitting side by side with him at the counter. A half finished plate sat before her, hamburger and plain chips, the dill pickle on the side. She pulled her Coca Cola towards her, taking a long pull from the straw. "He's alright, he doesn't remember anything that happened, thank God. He thinks I blew up the furnace, which is why the floor caved in... in that spot."
"It could happen." Hunter said with a derisive snort, having finished his plate awhile ago and reached for a handful of her chips. "How bout you? Have I told you, by the way, that you are looking a LOT better?"
Shaking her head, she pulled a lock of hair away from her head; studying it. Mixed in with the deep brown were now streaks of gray, she had told her husband it was a new look she was trying out. But for the most part, she felt like herself again. She looked like herself, minus the hair issue... it was almost like she could pretend none of that had ever happened. "You've only said it about three times since I walked in, but go ahead and say it again."
"You're looking better."
She fell into silence again, struggling to remember what had happened. She had woken to Hunter carrying her out of the basement; sweat and blood pouring off of him. He had deposited her on the couch before going for Shawn, somewhere between then, Joanie had gotten up of her own accord and fled the house.
So far, neither she nor Hunter had seen Joanie and Daija was just fine with that. In fact, she never wanted to see Joanie ever again, unless she was allowed to shoot the other woman.
"How... how did you know something was wrong?" She asked after awhile.
He finished scraping chips off his teeth, considering that. "I didn't know something was immediately wrong, but I had found out Joanie was invested into some interesting... activities and I wanted to warn you."
"What kind of activities?"
He smiled dryly. "You know, the kind where you resurrect dead people, dabbling in the occult, that kind of thing."
Daija just shook her head. "So you came charging down into the basement..."
"Because I heard you screaming something about Shawn."
"And then through that odd doorway."
"That door was small, I scraped the hell out of my shoulders getting through."
"And knocked into... Joanie..."
"Or Calaway, whichever one it was."
"Made it spill that... shit."
"All over the place, it STANK." He grimaced at the recollection and stared down at his plate, wishing now he hadn't eaten it all, it wasn't settling very well."Then I got you out of there because it honestly looked like you were dead or something. You started coming around once we were out of the basement so I set you on your couch, went back down and got your hubby out of there."
"Then-"
"Then I went for Joanie but she was already gone."
"And-"
"And I got the hell out of there because the stench was making me dizzy and it's a good thing too because I just got to the steps and the floor caved in, thanks to your shitty furnace."
"So besides you and me, nobody knows just how damn close this town was to having a sick ghost walking around in an actual body?"
Hunter began laughing. "Something like that."
Shaking her head, Daija slid off her stool and patted him on the back. "I'll catch you later, Hunt, I'm going to go home and spend some time with my husband."
"Sure, give him a kiss for me."
"Will do."
***
"Shawn?"
Shawn was holding his beautiful albeit a little gray, wife in his arms, they were lying in bed, just enjoying being with each other. She had been... quiet, the past few days and he couldn't understand why nor wrangle an answer out of her when he would ask if anything was wrong. He had figured she'd come to him when she was ready. "Yeah, darlin'?"
"I was thinking," Daija rolled so she was laying on him, running her fingers up and down his chest and noted with sadness that his tan was all but gone; he was becoming pale, just like everyone else around here. "That maybe we should Texas another try."
Shawn was quiet for a long time, finally touching her hair to get her to raise her head off his shoulder and to look at him. "I thought you liked it here."
"I... do..." She had, even though she could no longer feel the strange vibes in the house, it was still unsettling to be in it, maybe because of everything that she had seen. "But I miss Texas, our friends... The damn sun. I know you do too."
"Yeah... but... we got all this money invested in this house, Daij. I don't think we can just walk away from it." He replied quietly, running his hand down the small of her back. "Not to mention we have to get the downstairs fixed."
"I know."
When she lapsed back into silence, Shawn closed his eyes, wondering what had brought this on. Things were... different. She wasn't obsessed with the house like she had been, she no longer felt the burning desire to have it finished. But different in a good way, he supposed. She was there, with him again, no longer distracted by whatever it was that had for so long held her attention elsewhere.
It was like he had his Daija back again.
He did not and would not ever understand why she had felt the need to streak her hair, she had told him it was supposed to come out a silvery, shimmery color but... He still loved her, grey streaks and all.
"Daij, why don't we wait until Spring and then we'll talk about it again." He said finally. "Everything that needs fixed downstairs will be fixed and if we're lucky, we'll even have some of the tax money leftover."
Sensing he was giving serious thought about Texas, Daija smiled and kissed his collarbone. "We still have the ranch, and I bet Steve would love to have you back working with him."
"True."
"And I could go back to work at Millie's."
"Are you sure you'd be able too, too handle being in the ranch?"
She knew what he meant, her thoughts straying to the unfinished nursery and nodded; smiling somewhat. "Maybe we could try again." She whispered slowly, watching the confusion on his face fade into a smile.
Texas, they were coming home.
***
"Who pissed in your breakfast?"
Jas Coleman glared at Hunter before stabbing his eggs viciously. "The Michaels put Morle Manor on the market, they left for Texas this morning."
Hunter arched an eyebrow, swallowing the remains of his coffee and shook his head when the waitress went to refill it. Daija hadn't said anything to him, but then again, with spring finally here, he hadn't exactly been an easy man to find. He had been out and about, enjoying the fresh air and the lack of snow on the ground. "Well, good for them, I didn't think they were cut out for New England to begin with."
Jas sighed, shaking his head.
"So... you have to sell it again, huh? Shouldn't be too hard, they did fix it up, right?"
"Restored it completely, the damn house is worth more than what they paid for it." Jas actually sounded pained, grimacing. "IF I can find a buyer, they'll make quite a tidy profit from the difference between what they paid and what they can get for it."
"Mmm." Hunter stood up, clapping Jas on the back. "Good luck with that."
Jas just kept muttering to himself.
***
"Goddamn son, you are pale!"
Shawn whirled around, damn near dropping the box he was carrying when he heard the very familiar, very welcomed voice; grinning broadly. "I know, I'm hoping a summer outdoors will fix that."
"Shit, I think we can work somethin' out." Steve bounded up the steps, a broad grin on his face. "Need some help?"
Daija walked out of the ranch, having just opened every door and window to start airing the place out; laughing when she was picked up off the porch and twirled around. "Nice to see you too, Steve."
"Honey, you two have no idea how borin' it gets around here." Steve laughed, setting her down. "Heard you were back... So I wrangled up some neighbors and..."
Shawn and Daija both looked towards the open gate, neither too surprised to find their neighbors, they're friends, driving through, horns honking loudly.
Steve's grin broadened if that were possible. "Daij, you best go get the coffee and food on, I have a feelin' getting you two moved back in is going to be hungry work."
"I brought stew!" Larissa shouted as she slid from the passenger side of her truck; holding the seat forward while her three kids scrambled out, her husband ambling towards Shawn and Steve. Balancing a crockpot in her arms, she hurried up into the house, leaving the children to play in the yard while the rest of the neighbors got to work. "I'm so glad you came back."
Daija waited until Larrisa had set down the stew before hugging her best friend tightly. "I missed you too."
"Alright, enough blubberin', let's get some biscuits and gravy made up, some coffee too I reckon. And you can tell me all about New England..."
Where did she even begin....?
***
It was pitch black behind the bookstore, which was nice as she wasn't keen on being spotted. For a moment, Joanie fumbled over the top of the door, her fingers finally stumbling onto a cold bit of metal. Smiling eagerly, she unlocked the door; keeping a firm hold on the papers in her hand. '
After she had let herself in, she hurriedly locked the door and turned around; throwing out her free hand to feel along the wall, flicking on the lights. "Hello."
Hunter had been sitting at his desk in the dark, hands laced behind his head; feet propped up on the desk. He nodded, eyeing the papers she carried.
"I have them." Quickly, she crossed the room to set the papers down. "It's all there, family trees of everyone in town. I also put in the bid for Morle Manor." She met his gaze, her smile wavering. "Did, did I do alright?"
Hunter's hazel eyes flashed fern green, slightly venomous color before nodding. "You did perfectly, my dear." He rumbled, his voice much different than the usual. It was deeper, a dark baritone. He reached one lazy hand for the papers, examining them, a slow smile of wicked glee crossing his face. "Beautiful, dearest, beautiful."
Mark Calaway had been murdered by the very townspeople who had come to him for years with their dirty, sordid affairs; paying him to rid themselves or some young woman of the burden of shame she carried.
Of course, he had probably signed his own death warrant the night he had performed a late term abortion on some runaway young woman, needing the near fully finished child inside of her for an experiment. He hadn't known at the time that she was the daughter of one of the states's most prominent citizens.
To hide their shame, to hide the evidence of what they had allowed to go on... the people from town had murdered him and destroyed his office, leaving nothing but four dirt walls and a dirt floor behind.
It had been Joanie who had uncovered the secret door to his alter chamber, it was Joanie who had snuck inside the Manor over ten years ago to dig beneath the dirt and uncover the canning jars, his babies, and put them on a shelf.
And it was Joanie who had gathered the necessary ingredients for his resurrection and started the ritual, then allowed him to share her body to finish it.
Originally, he had wanted Shawn Michaels body... then he would have been able to keep Daija who he had almost loved, she had been so easy to entice, to lure... so eager to help him with his work, at least until she realized the price that would have to be paid.
But this would do...
Hunter, the idiotic fool who had rushed in to save the day... who had made Mark spill the contents of his alter bowl over them both... He had sealed his own doom.
This wasn't the body he had wanted, but it was HIS body now and it would do.
If he had too, he could always find a suitable replacement, which... now that he thought of it, he was going to have to do. Especially since by the time he was finished painting this town in the blood of it's own residents, Hunter Helmsley was about to become a very, VERY wanted man.
Joanie whimpered in delight when he stood up, closing her eyes as he caressed her face with a small sigh of ecstasy. "Master..."
Scientists had spent years trying to prolong human's lives, make them stronger, faster... He didn't want that. He just wanted to be able to come back after death, he did not want to live out one life in the same body, not when there was so many wicked, murderous things he wanted to do. He had succeeded where they had failed, he had found the way to bring himself back, to defy death.
One body however, was not going to be enough for what he had in mind, for all the murderous things he had planned, he was going to need several...
"Joanie... we have so much work to do..."
THE END
