Chapter Twenty-Four


"This is crazy," Jane hissed. Waiting on the sidelines at the end of the road that led to a psycho's property. She knew all about evil, but this thing was on a whole other level. "We should be there helping them."

"Edward and Bella have good reason for us to stay behind. You heard them, they're scared he'd get control of us. We could hurt them ourselves, or he could use our energy, only making him stronger." James floated nearby, but for a spirit, he looked ready to go out of his mind. "Look what happened to Vicky."

She had suddenly disappeared, and they had heard her screams minutes earlier, even from where they waited. It was killing James all over again, he was already attached to her. Jane didn't know what to think of it. She never felt anything more than a deep friendship with James and Edward, maybe it was fear that James could be hurt. As if he hadn't been through enough. Didn't help that she was the reason their lives turned upside down on that midnight road.

The confession she had avoided for years ate away with her with each passing day. The fear of the truth was what held Edward back, it shrouded him in doubt. It kept him from the rest of his living family, and she was the reason.

"I remember everything from that night, you know." James whispered words surprised her so much, she spun around so fast, everything blurred. "Edward doesn't remember, probably because the concussion, but I do."

How? She didn't understand how James could even look at her. "And you don't hate me?"

James shook his head. "You were scared, Jane. It was a terrible accident. I could never hate you, Jane."

She felt her emotions well up, making her voice crack. Hard to do for a ghost. "You died because of me." Shelly floated over to Jane, likely sensing she needed someone to hold her. The old woman had always been aware what she needed.

"Like I said, you were scared," James reasoned softly, his voice soothing in a way Jane rarely heard. "You had died after being buried alive, probably confused, it would send anyone running scared."

"I'm the reason you died." She was close to spelling it out for him. Didn't he get it? "Not only that, as if that's not enough reason to go to hell, the accident caused Edward to have this... He can hear the dead because of me."

"Honey." Shelly, lovingly curled some of Jane's hair away from her face. It always surprised Jane just how much she felt after death. The love she had for this woman always choked her up, she had to look away. "Edward had always been sensitive. I remember an incident at school when he was a child, not much older than six. He hid in the closet and refused to come out because the janitor scared him. Miles, the janitor, died the week before in a fire and hadn't been replaced yet. Meaning he had seen a ghost."

Jane looked up. "What?"

"It's true." James slipped his hands into the pockets of his worn jeans, looking away. "He thinks my parents don't know how bad it can get for him, but they do. Edward's dad had the same gift, too. But he tried to ignore them, and you know how that can go sometimes. They get angry."

Edward was like his father? Why didn't she know? Did Edward know? The freak accident that claimed his parents, she knew so little of it. Edward refused to discuss it. Was a spirit the cause? So many questions, but they hardly mattered. What did concern her was how Edward would react to her confession.

Jane hadn't been prepared for James to know, it scared her. "Why haven't you said anything?" She screamed, her eyes instantly going dark. "Five fucking years and you tell me now."

"Think about it, Jane." James stood up to her anger, some of it seeping out of her. "You ran out into the road, he saw you, and swerved to avoid hitting you. He thought you were alive. He didn't know any better. It took a while for me to figure it out."

She felt the darkness that threatened to pull her under slowly leak away. "Does he know?" Jane asked softly.

"I think deep down he does, but to him it would only make him feel worse about James. He'd still take the blame, claiming his gift led to all this." Shelly slipped an arm around Jane's tiny waist and tugged her closer. "It's the only reason we haven't said anything."

Jane looked miserable. "Bella knows."

"Of course she does," Shelly said with a laugh. "But she won't tell him, she knows it has to be you."

"He's going to hate me and himself." Jane's shoulders hunched forward, a strange ice cold filling her soul.

"He could never hate you." James joined Shelley and Jane in a hug.

They sprung apart when an unearthly roar seemed to explode toward them from the property. It held the usual scent of decay, but there something darker within the sound, seeping through them until they only remembered were their worst memories. It didn't last long, though to a human it seen like hours had passed. Something put an end to it, instantly warming them.

"They're going to need us." Shelley stated, rolling her shoulders and slipping the sleeves of her housecoat up her arms. "Let's go."

Jane let go of her worries, knowing she'd have to face them soon. For now, Edward and Bella needed them, even if they didn't know it.


The sudden stillness and the silence of the night seemed as supernatural as a wind carrying whispers from the dead. Everyone in the group stood up slowly, wary of the source of their torture. Edward had to yawn a few times for his ears to adjust, soon helping Bella to her feet. She moaned in pain as she stood and had to shake her head to dispel the ache from the strange attack.

"Was that him?" Reya looked toward the burial ground. If she sensed something, she didn't say. Edward was as drawn to the area as she seemed to be. Their gift or curse, depended on who you asked, would be drawn to so much supernatural energy.

"Yes," Bella whispered. She pulled her fingers away from her ear, the blood still wet, which she quickly wiped on her jeans. Her other hand clasped Edward's arm to stay upright. He wanted to put a stop to all of it, but he knew the spirits trapped there would haunt them until they helped or something worse.

Bella looked toward the dilapidated barn, shaking her head. "He's not happy. Marcus may not have had much control on his grandson's victims, but he was able to feed off them."

"Does that mean he's weak?" Jason asked, panning his camera toward the group. "If he is, we need to try to put a stop to him now before he recovers."

"He wasted a lot of energy with that damn scream." It was Jasper who informed them, appearing as hurt as everyone else.

Edward realized it was likely an act. If he had the ability to heal a broken neck in seconds, busted ear drums were nothing to him. Everything Jasper had ever said to him had been lies, the man was dating his cousin. What did that mean for Alice?

Jasper had everyone's attention. "But he still has the others to feed off of and they're his victims. His power comes from their fear."

"He's right." Bella turned away from Jasper and focused on Reya and Jason. "This is a lot to ask, but to lure him far enough away from his victims so I can help them…"

Bella didn't need to say the words, Reya knew exactly what she wanted. "I need to be alone."

Edward jumped in to clarify. "Reya, he's drawn to you, for whatever his reason you remind him of his victims." Jason, along with the rest of the paranormal crew protested, but from the look in Reya's eyes, she had already made her decision to become the bait.

"I can't allow that," Riley stated. For the first time since Edward met the detective, uncertainty and fear put an edge in his voice. "If something happens to her." He shook his head, looking away from Bella. "I can't let that happen."

Edward and Bella were the ones aware Riley had lost his sister years before. Did Reya remind him of her? Was that why he seemed protective of the young investigator? Anything was possible, but whatever was bothering the detective, it was clear he wouldn't back down.

"Then you can go with her," Bella suggested. Jason refused to leave his girlfriend alone, too. "The two of you can go to the house with her, but she needs to go into one of the rooms on her own."

"If something going to happens?" Jason looked nervous and though their team had seen and heard a lot through the years, this was different. They had never experienced such powerful physical attacks. "Where are you going to be?"

"I need Reya to draw him to the main house so that Edward and I can help the other spirits cross to the other side. If I can get even a handful of them to crossover, it'll help when it's my turn to face him."

"We, Bella." Edward slipped his fingers through hers, meeting her eyes. "We're going to face him together."

A silence seemed to come over the group as Edward and Bella silently communicated, but not with words. She had heard his declaration during the attack. Though she hadn't said the words yet, they were there in her dark eyes and the slight lift of her lips.

"What the fuck? Did we die or did you two step into toxic slime? You're glowing." Lawrence, part of the paranormal team, eyes were wide open.

Edward looked at his arm and saw nothing of what Lawrence described. It wasn't until he glanced at his hand intertwined with Bella's that he understood.

"Oh man," Jason whispered, adjusting the camera to focus on the couple. "The camera is picking up this shit."

Centered around Edward and Bella's clasped hands, a low glow seemed to emanate between them.

"The veil between planes is thinning here," Jasper stated. "I wouldn't be surprised if we all temporarily see more than usual." He looked confused, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

Edward had no idea what to say, but there was no time to analyze the strange phenomenon and what they had learned about their past lives. But he felt ready for whatever was coming.

By the look on Bella's face, she agreed. "We're going to bring this asshole down."

A husky laugh started slow, crawled down the spines, like icy fingers of dread and despair. Bella gestured for everyone to come closer to her, whispering under breath as they moved. A small sound similar to wind blowing in a tunnel, seemed to surround them. A few of the others gasped, their voices echoing.

"It's a spell, so he can't hear us." Bella rubbed her hands together and cracked a small smile. "So this is what we're going to do."


Reya held a small flashlight up, illuminating the hallway leading to the living room. It wasn't enough light, and it seemed to cast shadows, she swore reached for her. Riley and Jason remained in the kitchen, but only after clearing it of any possible weapons. If the old man had the ability to manipulate earth as they claimed he had at the burial site, they wouldn't take any chances with rusty knives and utensils left behind. The same went for the room she slowly walked toward.

Bella had prepared her as best she could, but with so little time she hoped it would be enough. Reya stepped through the arched entrance, walking into the center of the room. Her anxiety betrayed her for a second, as she looked up at a recently added drawing on the ceiling.

The temperature was at a cool 62 degrees throughout the first floor, but it felt as if it was dropping. She rubbed her arms as the chill seeped through her hooded sweater, trying her best to ignore the cold. From inside her jacket, she pulled out a digital recorder to record the session and hopefully pick up some EVP. It wasn't the first time she had to venture alone during an investigation. She had to remember she'd done this before, though she had never seen the level of activity and collective apparitions.

She whispered under her breath the chant Bella made her memorize the moment she stepped under the spell drawn into the ceiling's plaster. The room was sparse, but the few shelves once filled with newspapers, books, and a single chair in the center of the room. The Lexington's had apparently been hoarders, it had taken a large crew to process and catalog everything inside the house.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as she waited, and under normal circumstances, she'd provoke a spirit, not always a good thing to do. She would rather not in this case, but she had to if they had any hope of saving the victims trapped there.

In a moment of complete trust in Bella and Edward, she started to hum a song. The same one The Nightingale Killer played as he tortured his victims. Holding absolutely still, she continued into the second versus, falling into the chorus until she was nearly belting out the lyrics at the top of her lungs.

A noise from the right startled her, and her body started to tremble. She kept singing, the room chilling to the point her breath was clear in the air. Fear and the cold threatened to put a stop the song, but she held up her chin, refusing to give into the spirit's silent demands. A huff against her left ear sent her wayward hair in the air. She whimpered, her eyes scanned the room, but found no sign of an apparition or a hint of a moving shadow. Her flashlight swung from left to right, and she twisted enough to check behind her. The chair she stood in front of her, almost felt warm against her calf, but she chose to remain standing as she continued to sing.

Seeing nothing behind her, she turned and came face to face with a killer. She screamed, unable to help it, instinctively leaning away for his presence and the stench of death. Marcus, a mere shadow of the man he used to be, stood in front of her nearly nose to nose. His eyes a blue so pale they almost looked like shards of ice. It chilled her, sending a fresh round of fear through her.

He smirked, sensing her fear, likely feeding off it.

She had no doubt even in life he was an imposing figure. He stood at over six feet tall, his hair a mix of gray and a dark brown, but in death it had been dulled and appeared brittle. His eyebrows were dark gray, bushy slashes, almost meeting in the middle. A scar cut through the right corner of his mouth, adding to its cruel shape of his lips and sharp jaw.

The urge to scream for help churned her stomach. She wanted to run from this thing that gave off such darkness, it nearly choked her. Dread emanated from him, almost cloaking her in a thick blanket of despair and desperation.

Almost.

A tiny twitch the figure's mouth indicated that Bella's spell was working, it was dampening his abilities. His eyes narrowed on Reya's face. It huffed, irritated that he couldn't truly reach her.

It was Reya's her turn to smile, a burst of hysterical laughter escaping.

Marcus gasped at the noise, shaking his head and taking several steps backwards. The spirit's movements were blindly fast, she almost lost the figure when it took refuge in a dark corner. She shined her flashlight toward it, starting up the song once again.

It held up a gnarled hand, his fingers as bony and wiry as the rest of his body, almost fragile. She knew first hand it was deceiving. "You look like her," he hissed, drawing the word until it tried to coil around her. "My wife, his daughter. You look like her."

A revelation was not something Reya was prepared for, her lyrics coming to an abrupt stop. Marcus cackled at his words put some of the pieces together. "You targeted women that looked like your wife. It was her you wished you could kill." Marcus cried out, a sound similar to nails on a chalkboard. "Why?"

Hunched over, he no longer appeared as threatening as before. He turned from the corner, meeting her eyes again no longer pale, but a stark black. "She killed them all, her father, and my twin brother among them."

"The man the police identified as you, was your brother?" Marcus growled, his eyes seemed to overfill with darkness, leaking out of the corners like smoke. Questions popped in quick succession in her mind, seeking answers that she had no doubt the others wanted. "If you didn't love her why run away with her?"

He stood up to his full height, his skin now a dull gray color that made him appear equally ill and grotesque. His black eyes seemed to glow, no, they looked like orbs of black fire. It was as if she lit a match, her words the kerosene.

Reya didn't see it move, Marcus was in the corner one second and in the next roaring in her face. "I loved her!" The ground shook beneath her, the empty shelves rattled against the walls. She was beyond grateful he had nothing to throw at her.

"I don't think so," she mocked, adding more fuel.

Marcus roared again, burning through the energy stored within his dark powers, expelling a sudden black burst toward her. She screamed, expecting it to hit her, but it slammed against the protection spell Bella created. Her hands grabbed hold of the chair to stop from falling, sitting and holding on as Bella instructed.

Stay on the chair, stay on the chair.

She watched in horror as Marcus moved through the room, trying to find something to break through the spell. Bella assured her that even if he found a way to do it, the chair would be another layer of protection. It was a very special chair, created especially for Bella.

No curtains or hardware hung at the four windows, but he glided toward one. He talked to himself, smiling over his shoulder at her.

"Oh no," she whispered. The safe word they agreed on for her to scream was on the tip of her tongue, but watching this thing rage and move about the room was too horrifying to look away. "The glass."

Marcus laughed, the sound of it icing her blood. If he managed to break the windows, he could send the fragments flying. The spell didn't work against physical attacks.

Edward and Bella did their best to prepare the room for such a possibility. "Please work, please work." Strips of sticky fly paper, coated in salt, lined the window. Edward had thought of this, having found a supply of it in the kitchen for when the authorities had gone through the house.

The second Marcus reached a window, his hands seemed to steam, a terrible cry of pain echoed around the room. He held his hands up, as if in agony, but it wasn't long before his pain turned to rage. His eyes snapped toward Reya, a guttural growl escaped his lips and he lunged toward her.

Reya held onto the arms of the chair, remembering what Bella had said. "No matter what he does, stay on the chair. It will protect you even if he breaks through the spell."

She kept her eyes open, refusing to miss a second of what was happening despite her fear. He continued to punch the spell with glowing fists. Every blow marking a change in his appearance, from small cracks in his skin, to his body slowly losing its shape. When he figured out coming at the spell with direct hits wasn't working, he focused his attention on the seal on the ceiling. She screamed as the third burst had bits of the ceiling coming down on her.

The malevolent spirit of Marcus Lexington laughed and continued the assault, soon breaking the seal that put a shield around her. He halted, his lips now a dark, crude slit in his gray skin. His arms fell to his sides, drawing her eyes to the fact that the lower portion of his spiritual body was mostly smoke. For some reason he was panting, as if he exerted himself, even though he didn't need to breathe. He leaned in close, enough that Reya felt the air cool further between them.

"I got you now." Gone were the features that made him appear human, now he was something out of her worst nightmares. Terror paralyzed her, but the warmth of the chair reminded her she wasn't alone. She looked down at her palms curled around the arms of the chair, the markings glowing underneath her. Bella and Edward would save her before it was too late. If not, she'd become another victim for Marcus Lexington.

Their plan would work. She felt it deep down, so she started to sing. His faced transformed to one of pure hate, his mouth now a gaping hole as it screamed again. Something else seemed to overpower his voice, coming from outside the house. Someone else was singing along with her, she didn't have to look to know it was the victims fighting to be released from his hold. Light streamed through the darkened windows, as the voices continued to rise.

Marcus was aware of his impending demise, he felt his strength waning. He couldn't let her live, this woman who dared to stand up against him. His hand rose to strike her, and felt his nails lengthen in preparation for it. He focused what was left of his will to kill the woman that bore a remarkable resemblance to his wife. The woman who forced him from a life he worked so hard to achieve, who gave him a son with no desire for blood. An unworthy heir, and he hated her, for being more formidable and cunning than her tyrant, blood-thirsty father.

Something stopped him from hurting the bitch, his arm frozen in the air. "Not going to happen."

A man with bronze hair, the one the brown-eyed witch was attached to, clenched his transparent hand around his wrist. Confusion furrowed his brow, not understanding what was happening. A human was touching him, physically. It wasn't possible.

Desperate, he searched for another to steal energy from, but his call for the others went unanswered. The man and his wife's doppelganger were too protected to collect from, but he sensed another. Someone hiding in the fireplace, watching with glee at his destruction.

His granddaughter would be of no assistance, the betrayal from his own bloodline angering him further. He tore away from the strange man, and in a desperate attempt to save himself, to salvage whatever souls he could keep under his control, he flew toward the exit.

It was like if he'd been shot the moment he tried to pass through the threshold, falling back with such a force, it effected the two humans in the room. He watched as the man helped lift the enchanted chair still holding the woman up. Something else drew his attention, along the floor of the living room exit was a line of salt.

They had him trapped.


AN: They so got this, and don't worry, we'll see what Edward and Bella were doing while Reya distracted Marcus. Sorry for the late night update, my internet is shit during the day when everyone is awake.