"No, Ryan, her eyes were paler than that. Think pale sky blue."

Micki and Ryan sat at the breakfast table; their small meal spread out in front of them. Ryan's art supplies covered most of the surface, and he chewed a piece of bacon as he worked.

"Micki, you're being really mysterious about this," Ryan commented as he began to fill in the portrait's facial features. "Just who is this girl, anyway."

"Oh ... Just someone I saw around," Micki tried to sound offhand. "Since she looked very pretty, I didn't think you'd mind."

"Since when does he need an excuse?" came a chuckle from the doorway.

"Good morning, Jack," Micki and Ryan said at the same time. But Jack took one look at Ryan's drawing and froze in his tracks.

"Why are you drawing that?" Jack demanded harshly. He strode across the room and loomed over Ryan's drawing.

"Uh, 'cause Micki asked me too?" Ryan said uncertainly.

"It was my idea. What's wrong, Jack?" Micki put in anxiously.

Jack stared at Ryan's drawing while the silence spun out between the three of them.

"Nothing's wrong," he muttered. "I'll be back."

"Okay, just what was that all about?" Ryan asked as Jack almost ran out of the room. They could hear him clumping up the stairs, and a minute later, the door to his room slammed shut.

"I hope this is worth it, Micki," Ryan muttered.

Micki opened her mouth, but Jack rushed back into the room before she could say a word.

"Is this her, "Ryan?" he asked, putting a photograph in an ornate gilded frame down in front of Ryan.

Ryan just shrugged, but Micki gasped, a hand going to her mouth.

"That's her," she said softly. "It's definitely her. May I?"

She reached out and gently lifted the frame from the table and held it close to her own face. She knew the image. This was the girl from her room the other night.

"Who is she, Jack?" Ryan wanted to know.

"Catherine Grace Vendredi," Micki said, reading from the back of the picture frame.

"Grace? But that's not Lewis's wife," Ryan started to object. They had seen a picture of Grace Vendredi a few months ago. The girl looked a little like her.

"Cathy was Lewis and Grace's daughter," Jack answered somberly. He suddenly sounded very tired and older than his years.

Micki and Ryan waited, there expressions concerned as they watched their old friend. But Jack didn't want to offer any more information on his own. Micki was half certain he had even forgotten she and Ryan were there. All his focus was on that photograph.

What happened to her, Jack?" Micki asked gently.

"I'll tell you, Micki, but please answer me this. Tell me why you are suddenly so interested?" Jack countered quietly.

Micki gazed into Jack's face for a long moment, not sure if she should answer him or not. Still, he was living with them, and had a right to know.

"Because ... because I saw her, in my room, last night. That girl, she was the person in my room, Jack."

The blood slowly drained from Jack's face, and Micki jump to her feet and rushed to put an arm around him. Ryan came over as well and put a hand on Jack's shoulder. The older man was trembling violently, tears standing in his eyes.

"Jack, what happened to Cathy?" Micki asked very gently.

"She's dead," Jack said bluntly, his voice hoarse. 'Well, she is presumed dead, there was so much blood. But..."

The others waited patiently. Micki caught Ryan's eye, and they knew what Jack would say next.

"But we never found her body," Jack confirmed their suspicions. "You're sleeping in her old room, Micki."

"Oh God, Jack, please tell me she didn't die there," Micki cried.

"No, most of the blood was found in Ryan's room," Jack replied to Micki's relief, and Ryan's dismay. "The rest was spread through the place. It looked like she fought hard for her life... She would." Jack could not say anymore and broke down again.

While Micki was comforting Jack, Ryan slipped out of the room. He took the framed photograph of Catherine Grace and put it right by his bed. He did not know why he did it, but it was almost a compulsion. He also knew he would be checking Micki's window tonight, making sure it was shut tight. He would be leaving his own window open, instead.

"Come in from the cold and the dark. Come in through my window tonight, pretty cousin Cathy," Ryan whispered soothingly, invitingly as he traced the face beneath the glass. "Come to me, warm yourself, and we'll talk."

"Ryan, where are you?" Micki and Jack's voice sounded from downstairs. Ryan nearly jumped out of his skin. What was he doing, anyway?

"Yeah, alright, I'm coming," he said quickly, tearing his eyes away from the photo to run downstairs. After all, he had several hours to wait for the real thing to show up.

Jack asked where the photograph had gone, and Ryan told him he borrowed it so he could finish his sketch. Of course, now that they had the photo, the sketch was not necessary, but Jack did not grill him kindly did not point that out. In fact, Jack left after breakfast and still had not returned. He seemed to be avoiding the place.

Micki was not so easily avoided, however.

"What are you really doing with that photo, Ryan," she demanded after she came barging into his room just after dark.

"Why Micki, of course you can come in, and do sit down and make yourself at home," Ryan grinned.

"Save it, alright." Micki flopped down on the foot of Ryan's bed. "Why is that photo sitting there."

"What, a guy can't keep a photo of a pretty girl by his bed. Not getting jealous are you, Micki?" Ryan teased her.

"Stop trying to change the subject." Micki reached for the photo, but Ryan snatched her hand away. "Just leave it alone, Micki."

"Ryan, what is wrong with you? What are you trying to do, attract her back here?" Micki's eyes went suddenly wide. "Oh my God! That's what you're wanting to do, lure her back here. Are you crazy?"

"You want her back in your room?" Ryan challenged. 'You were scared to death last night."

"I was not scared to death," Micki flared. "A little frightened, maybe, but ... Why are you doing this, Ryan?"

"Micki, just go to bed, and keep your window closed tight, okay?"

'Ryan—"

"Look, she's been in and out of here for weeks, and has never hurt any of us. How many cursed objects has she left us, up to a dozen now, right? She's obviously trying to help ... or wanting to visit her old home, I don't know. Is it so wrong that I might want to talk to her? She is our cousin, Micki."

"But what else is she, Ryan? What's she become? If she did survive, why hasn't she made any contact with Jack after all these years? He told me a little bit about her, Ryan. They were close. Uncle Jack, she always called him."

"Well maybe she ran from all of Uncle Lewis's crazy satanic stuff," Ryan put forward that idea. "Wouldn't you if you had the chance? Maybe she just wanted out after her ... her attack."

"Oh, Ryan, I don't know. I guess I understand, but can't you at least wait until Jack gets back." Micki pleaded.

"No!" Ryan exclaimed. Then, he softened his tone a bit. "Micki, you saw how he reacted just to this photo this morning. I don't think Jack should see her, not yet. He's obviously still got issues with her disappearance."

Micki threw up her hands with a long groan. "You've had some crazy ideas, Ryan, but this is the worst one yet," Micki complained. "At least keep something close to protect yourself with, a cross or something."

"What do you think I am, stupid? No, don't answer that," Ryan said. "It'll be fine, Micki. Maybe she'll tell me which cursed object she'll bring next, and we won't have to bother with retrieving it."

"Maybe I'll stay her with you," Micki began to sit on the floor by Ryan's bed, but Ryan pulled her back to her feet.

"Oh, I can't believe I'm saying this to another beautiful girl, but get out of my room, Micki." He steered her out the door and closed it firmly behind her.

"Fine, but if you wake up dead or worse, don't come crying to me in the morning," Micki called through his bedroom door. "And I'm leaving my door open," she added. "If I hear anything strange, I'm coming in if I have to break this door down."

Ryan ignored her. He was again fixated on the photograph. He undressed and slipped between his sheets and lay still, waiting, and silently calling out to his lost cousin Catherine.

After what felt like hours, he finally started to doze as a slim pale hand appeared on his window sill, and the girl slipped silently inside his room, and came to stand by the bed.

"Cousin Ryan?" she whispered sweetly, lightly stroking his forehead. "Not nice to invite a girl in then fall asleep.

A/N;

A huge hello and welcome to any and all who might read this fic. Thanks for stopping by. Now that I've recovered a whole bunch of written (or mostly written) chapters that I thought were lost forever, I hope updates will come more quickly.