Chapter Eight
They walked out to her car, and once again, Edward whistled at the beauty of it. It couldn't have been more than a year or two old. The color suited Bella, and he hoped he'd get her to trust him enough to drive it one day. He didn't want to be rude, but how could she afford it?
"What's your day job?" he wondered out loud, hoping they were still playing twenty questions.
"Yoga instructor by day, ghostbuster by night," she said playfully, but shook her head. Looking over her shoulder, she saw the question on the tip of his tongue. "My grandma made me the beneficiary of a sizeable life insurance policy. One that I recently found out the premium was paid by an anonymous benefactor."
By the fury in her voice, she wasn't happy the "anonymous" part, not that he could blame her. It would immediately bring up many questions. Before he could ask something else, she popped open the trunk of her car. It had seemed like any other trunk, clean and new when they had to get her spare tire out. That was until she started to open up secret compartments around the perimeter of it. Each one held a variety of weapons; most were for battling the supernatural or any human threat.
"What the hell is this?" Edward asked, pulling out a vicious sawed-off shotgun.
"It's a lollipop. What does it look like? You're acting like you've never seen one."
"Seen one, sure," he stated roughly. His uncle had a cabin and he had a few shotguns and rifles in case of bears or mountain lions. "Touch or use one, no." There was no use in denying it; it was important she knew the truth. A gun was dangerous in an untrained hand, or any hand, for that matter.
She looked at him, her head tilted a bit, as if she was trying to figure him out. "One of these isn't the only way to protect yourself, but it's the most useful with powerful spirits that attack. How else do you protect yourself from really aggressive ghosts?"
"My friends do."
She cursed under her breath, pulling some type of strap out. "Have you ever noticed the spirit you're dealing with get more powerful when they help?"
Edward cycled through memories of the last few cases and found that she was right. "Yes, why is that?"
Bella continued going through her things as she answered. "Angry spirits can gather energy from those like them easier than anything else. So, when your friends joined you, they gave the spirit more power."
"But that would go both ways, right?"
She stood up fully and smiled. "Now you're getting it. Yes, I can probably teach them how to do that, if they don't know already."
Edward cocked an eyebrow. "I have a feeling you're going to teach me a thing or two." She only grinned in response and suddenly wrapped her arms around his waist to pull him closer. "What are you doing?"
Besides driving me crazy, he thought. Damn, she smells good.
Her hands slipped from his back and over his sides, leaving a wake of heat he needed. A belt snapped into place, right over the waistband of his jeans. He swallowed hard, as due to their height, he could see down her sweater. The dry spell had to end soon, because they were about to hunt down a dead, angry wife, and he was thinking about what Bella's nipples would taste like.
"Stop looking at me like that," she said softly, adjusting the belt. "We'll do more talking later. Right now, I need you to keep Irina away from me until I'm ready to get rid of her. It'll take me several minutes to gain the strength I need to do my thing."
"And your thing is?"
Bella shrugged. "Reasoning with Irina is no longer an option," she said, her words proven right when an unearthly cry came from within the Williams' home. "I'm forcing her to crossover."
Edward winced, because it didn't sound pleasant, but if it was the only answer, they had little choice. "Is that what you do every time?"
"No, I usually help those that have unfinished business. Once they're ready, I can lead them to the veil."
Did she mean the veil between Earth and the spiritual world?
She pulled out a holster and vest of some sort and hooked it around his shoulders so it sat across his chest. The black strap was equipped with bottles of holy water and small pouches of something that looked like salt and herbs.
"What is all this?" Edward asked, poking at one of the pouches.
"You really are new to this," she said, pointing at a bottle. "Holy water on an angry spirit with the will to kill can stop it for a few seconds, buying precious time." He handed the shotgun over when she asked for it and went through a five-minute tutorial on how to load the rock salt shells. "Always aim for the center, and the salt will force them to dissipate, again buying time. It also helps with herding one to where you want it to go." She continued to instruct him for another few minutes. "Edward, if I tell you to run, you run out of the house. She only has powers within it."
He wasn't stupid enough to promise anything. "Alec said a painting in the hallway was hers."
"That's one way to get rid of them—burning something they may have formed an attachment to. Did he say which one? From what I remember, there was a lot of art on the walls."
"He said the red painting in the hallway."
She grinned. "That's fucking perfect. That means I'll barely get my hands dirty." She handed him a Zippo and small bottle of lighter fluid. "We'll try the easy way first, but she'll probably put up a fight." She grabbed a small torch, similar to one he'd seen in his uncle's kitchen, to burn the painting, and closed the trunk. "If it doesn't work, which is possible if she's attached to the house and not the art, we'll have to go to Plan B."
A scream from the house started to rattle the windows. Irina was getting stronger. Edward listened to the rest of Bella's instructions, not at all bothered with the fact that she was in charge.
She was the veteran, not him.
Edward followed Bella as they made their way up the Williams' driveway. They stopped beside his truck, and she asked if he managed to set up any cameras before Irina pitched her fit. "I didn't have time."
She looked up at him. "I can help with that, but you'll have to blur my face out of any video, and I must approve of it. Call me B from now on, got it."
"Whatever you say," he said, not that it meant much if he couldn't set up anything. She opened a flap on the strap across his chest, and he noticed a small camera lens—very high tech. She circled around him and did something to the heaviest part of the vest at the small of his back. "Are you serious? If I put this on my site and channel, it'll pay the bills for at least six months."
"Yup, this one will automatically switch to night vision on its own," she said as she faced him again, giving the lens one last buff. "I sometimes have to do this to pay the bills, too. I fucking love October. Even old videos get a shitload of hits from people looking for a scare."
The fact she understood his reasons made him feel better about charging Alec and Tanya later. After what he'd seen, it was at least something they could do.
He had so many questions, but one stood out. "Do you know what happened with Jane and Irina?"
Some of the strength in her dark eyes bled out as her breathing turned harsher. The impression she'd gotten from Jane must have been awful. "I do, but please, let's wait until we're done and can talk with Alec."
He wasn't happy about it, but agreed. Whatever she learned, it hurt for her to know the truth. "Just answer one thing, did she kill Jane?"
"She's responsible, yes."
Edward rested the shotgun against his shoulder, making his way toward the house without another word. The doors slowly swung open as they stepped in front of them, but there was nothing inviting about the darkness within the house. They shared a look, before she switched on the flashlight she held.
"Damn," she whispered, her brow furrowing when the light wouldn't penetrate the dark. "We're going in blind."
"You know where to go?" There were two hallways in the house, which meant they had to go in two directions.
"Yes, I'm heading straight up the stairs."
"You know this is the part in a horror movie where the hot, dumb jock and the scream queen fuck, right?" Edward wanted to slap himself, but he had a tendency to blurt out the most inappropriate things at the wrong time, especially when he was nervous or scared.
Bella's lips twitched, trying to fight a smile. "You're not a dumb jock and my tits are nowhere near the size suitable for a scream queen."
He looked at her chest and cocked his head a little, earning a glare. "They're all right."
She lifted up her sleeves, the tattoos glowing brighter. "Watch yourself, Masen."
"Ditto, B." Edward walked in first, immediately feeling his way along a wall toward the hallway. It was pitch black; not even the LED light he was using made much of a dent into the darkness. He switched on a small light on the strap on his chest anyway and kept his senses open to his surroundings. Nearby, he heard Bella's feet climb up the stairs. He hated that they separated, but he knew she could take care of herself…him, on the other hand—
"Edward." The whisper was too soft, and he couldn't be sure if it was human or other. Another came from behind him, he turned toward the sound. There was no one there. He'd been in perpetual state of awareness all night, so his hair already stood up. He'd feel a lot better if James and the others were with him, but he had to keep Jane safe. The house was eerily quiet, almost as if he'd plugged his ears with something. He called out to Bella, just in case, but she didn't answer.
He battled with the urge to find her, ultimately choosing to move on. She was capable of handling spirits at a level he'd never even seen before. He told himself that she'd be okay. It wouldn't be the first time a spirit would attempt to lure him away from his true goal; in this case, Irina's painting.
Another whisper drew his attention to the foyer he had already passed. He turned in time to see Bella walk by, her face blank of emotion. She went straight for the front door. He called out to her, but her only response was to close the door behind her.
"It's not real," he said to himself. "She wouldn't just leave me." His doubts nearly choked him with fear, as tension seemed to close around him. Trying to focus, he found the first painting in the hallway. It had no fucking red in it, sending him running toward the next one. He cursed when the second one looked almost exactly like the first.
"Burn them all," Bella screamed from up above. There was no mistaking her voice. The doppelgänger he'd seen earlier was only an illusion. "She's manipulating what they look like. She's attached to one of them."
"There's fuck load in this hallway," he yelled back, tugging off the second painting from the wall. He turned when it came loose and fell back as he came face to face with Irina. She stood and swayed in front of him, a trickle of blood falling from one nostril and a white foam like substance on a corner of her mouth. Her eyes were completely black, and skin pale white. "She's here!"
Feeling completely out of his depth, he removed the safety on the gun and shot at the figure with a load full of salt. She screamed as she dissipated into wisps of gray and black, only to reappear behind him before he could get to his feet. He crawled backward and grabbed one of the pouches on the belt, throwing it at her. Irina screamed, as smoke seemed to come from everywhere, her head thrashing so fast that it soon became a blur, until it snapped to a stop. Gone were the black eyes, leaving only dark, empty sockets in their place. Her lips appeared like a crudely drawn mouth with a razor. The slash parted as she silently screamed, and even though he heard nothing, something had a hold of his head.
"Edward!" The voice seemed a thousand feet away. He turned toward it, knowing he had to get to it, but the hallway appeared to be the length of a football field. "You have it! Bring it to me!"
Under the strain of the grip on his head, he managed to load the shotgun again. He shot toward the direction he'd last seen Irina, breathing in deeply when it finally released him. He ignored the pain and tried to get up. The sharp corner of the painting in his hand reminded him of what he had to do. Unable to load the gun again, he ran for the light at the end of the hall. His salvation was in the form of a woman at the end, her skin glowing brighter as he approached.
He held the painting to his chest as the creature crawled up the wall and onto the ceiling overhead. It dropped in front of him, the temperature falling to dangerous levels as his vision darkened around the edges.
"Not happening, bitch!" A glowing arm shot out from the center of the creature's chest, making it writhe and scream in place, until it burst into a cloud of smoke. "Fuck, I couldn't get a good grip on her." He heard the voice, but couldn't see her. "Edward? Come back to me, listen to my voice." He felt the tight grip of hands on his face and he tried to fight them, but they held firm. "It's B, Edward. Fuck it." The moment her lips touched his, all his senses returned in a snap. They were soft, but hard in their delivery. It still warmed him up in a matter of seconds. "We don't have time for this, she'll be back."
He nodded, rubbing away the tingle her kiss left behind. It didn't work, but he had to ignore it. They helped each other off the floor, and she led the way to the foyer, armed with the shotgun. In the middle of the room burned a small fire she'd started from the torn painting he saw in the living room earlier.
"Toss it in," Bella said, grabbing a few shells from the belt around his waist. She pressed her back against his, and kept watch for Irina. Edward held up the painting just as a figure appeared at the foot of the stairs. Bella shot it, making it disappear and reappear a few stairs up. "It's too late, Irina."
"For Jane." Edward threw the painting into the fire, watching it light up. The creature started to scream as it caught fire, thrashing from side to side. It tried in vain to put out the flames, losing the ability to hold its form. They watched the painting burn until there was nothing left but ash a few minutes later. "And another one bites the dust," he sang under his breath as the grandfather clock in the living room struck, telling of the late hour.
Bella bumped his shoulder as they stood over the dwindling fire. "We're going to get along just fine."
Edward couldn't help but smile, but first, it was time for answers.
