I had a home, and friends, and I’d managed to fall in love. Even if he came with some serious baggage, I still loved him. With each thought of what I had, and not what I didn’t have, I became myself again. The gravity of my thoughts didn’t weigh me down.
“You have a choice. You are not a tree. You are not stuck. You always have a choice,” I reprimanded myself, remembering that I could choose to let my depressing thoughts win, or I could get up. Focus on one heartbeat at a time. Get up.
“Get up,” I told myself and rolled out of bed. My fingers twitched toward the sheets, to go back to the warm safe zone I’d created and lay there until darkness claimed me.
“Take a step.” I shook my head and took a step, then another, then another.
“I need a shower.”
If someone watched me fight against myself just to move and do simple things, I’m sure I’d be committed to the hospital again. It was hard to understand unless you’d been there, where simple acts of life were near impossible. Your body, your mind, and your soul tried to pull you so deep into hopelessness, that you could barely breathe.
I don’t know what it is about a shower that brings out emotions, but the tears I’d held back since leaving the mansion descended. The spray of water blended with the salty tears of my pain being released, and my sobs stayed within the glass wall. My trembling body ached with every slick movement of the soap against my skin, but I didn’t stop. I kept concentrating on doing the next step. Get clean, let the tears flow, then dry off.
Efforts to dress normally where tossing on a sweater, leggings, and boots became tiresome. I’d probably resembled a bridge troll more than a person but I had no one to impress right now. I had to eat and write down my jumbled thoughts. I became a journalist for the paper because I had a gift that could help. I loved writing, and I sought the truth. I’d become so good at my job that work didn’t bother me, which in times like this I was grateful for.
Coffee warmed my hands as I made some oatmeal and sat at my table. Half of my notes were useless now. I knew who the killer was and knew his motives behind the murders. What I didn’t know was what could be done about it. I couldn’t have him arrested or use public outrage from the paper to take him down.
I was still on a dangerous deadline, with the people I cared about hanging in the balance.
“You cannot do this. You will fail,” a voice whispered in my mind, like a snake hissing as it curled around me, suffocating me with the outcome of my failure.
“No!” I shouted. I closed my eyes. I couldn’t listen to any voice that wanted me to give in. I wouldn’t fail. There was no other option. I fail, I lose everyone, and the world will be run by the dead.
I grabbed my notes on Rudy and began reading, looking for anything that would give me more insight into his mind and motives other than jealousy. From the research on him, I switched to my laptop and investigated ghost lore, consisting of articles people had published about the dead in the past, no matter how obtuse they might seem. I figured in all the years of history, the dead tried to rise before. One hour after another, I delved deeper into the next step, the next research until I found what I looked for and prepared for tomorrow, where I would fight against a curse for love.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Jude
“Quite the party happening out there. I cannot wait to mingle and soak up every bit of this night.” Rudy shivered with barely contained excitement next to me, basking in my anger. He was dressed in a dapper suit, with an intricate devil’s mask that stopped just above his nose.
“Don’t look too sour, Jude. You’re getting everything you wanted. To go out with a bang of a show, and I have a little surprise for you later.” He patted me on the shoulder and I dreamed of breaking his fingers in half. I didn’t care what he had planned, I would stop him before he got too far. After talking with the originator of the curse, I felt stronger and dived down deep into my power, stewing, waiting for the right time to unleash myself upon the dead.
“Let’s just get this over with.” I stepped into the ballroom where dozens of people gathered in ball gowns and masks. I imagined the scene before me matched the history of this mansion, when they used to have parties nearly every night. People danced, and they ate the food created in the magnificent kitchen by world-renowned chefs. Liquors and wines were used in toasts to the greatest party in Seahill’s history. People celebrated life, and the mystery of Halloween.
“Happy Birthday, Jude Mallory!” the crowd shouted as I stood at the top of the stairs to the room, hating that so many people were here, and none of them cared for me or knew my story. They wanted fun and leisure with a show. The live orchestra that had been hired to play for the night silenced their instruments with a wave of my hand.
“Thank you all.” I nodded at the people with a fake smile on my face, while my gaze searched for one person. Selene wasn’t here yet, although she had been instructed to show by our unfortunate stringmaster, pulling us how he deemed fit toward fates we did not wish for.
“Thank you for coming to my home and lighting up the place. I hope you have enjoyedMysticaland will stay as long as you like on this haunted night. The show will start thirty minutes before midnight.” I closed my welcome statement and walked down the stairs to mingle. My deathly power crept from my skin and wafted off me like smoke. It was Halloween, of course, so the people weren’t bothered with death caressing them as I walked. It was easier this way, instead of keeping it bottled up.
The orchestra began playing again, and people danced and laughed carefree. I hoped Rudy hadn’t poisoned the food so he could kill them and have more dead people at his disposal. The thought partially alarmed me, so I waved Joslyn over and asked her to please check it for me. She nodded and walked away with her tiger, everyone giving them a wide berth as they walked toward the buffet tables.
All the ghosts in the house were nearly alive. Only a faint blue shimmer could be seen signaling them as dead if you knew how to look. To a normal person, it looked like stage makeup had been applied to their bodies.
“You look nice, as always.” Lucy walked over to me, wearing a short ball gown and a tight pink corset. Her hair was piled high on her head, and a pink lacy mask covered the skin around her shocking blue gaze that roamed down my black ringleader’s suit, then back up to my hat.
“Thanks. You ready for tonight?” I asked softly. She nodded.
“Thank you.” I don’t think the two words would ever be enough, but they would have to do. Lucy was going to be putting herself on the line tonight for me and for this world. She was the only one who could do what needed to be done.
“He didn’t do a shitty job getting this together. If it wasn’t for the murders and lives at stake, I’d say he did a good job with the timeframe,” Lucy said, while looking around at the crowd. Indeed Rudy had put an insane amount of effort into this night, but it wasn’t without cost.
“Excuse me. May I have the next dance?” a familiar voice called from behind me, and my heart picked up its pace. Lucy grinned, then walked away with a knowing look in her eyes.
“I’m not sure the love of my life would appreciate me dancing with another woman.” I smirked, as I turned around slowly.
Selene was beautiful. She wore a Bohemian black dress with loose long sleeves and a slit that showed some of her creamy thigh. Desire slammed into my chest as the need to take her consumed me. Her hair was braided to the side and the black Venetian mask accentuated her look as a reaper. She was my deathly match in every way.
