“It was just the two of us…just how I’d always imagined it. I brought my boom box for music. We went upstairs—she was just curious about what was up there, but I was…I was hopeful. Maybe tonight would be the night. Maybe now would be the time…to tell her. How I reallyfelt.”
Leslie was entranced by the story, by the raw emotion in Regina’s face and words…but even so, she felt the house responding. The air shifting, a slight movement…almostsad.
Sad.Sorrowful.
A chill filtered delicately through the room, hardly enough to notice if you weren’t hoping forit.
“We were upstairs and went into one of the bedrooms. There was still furniture here. I was playing ‘Waiting for a Girl Like You’ on the boom box. I was a little drunk, and we were sitting there on the bed, just talking, and I…well, I did it. I grabbed her and—and I kissedher.”
The air kicked up in the room a little more sharply, causing Gilda to look around, startled. “What’s going on? Who’sthere?”
But neither Regina nor Leslieresponded.
“Kristen rejectedyou?”
“It wasn’t just a rejection,” Regina said, her voice tightening. “It was…it was horrible. She pulled away, and started calling me the most filthy, horrible, ugly names you can imagine. It was like she turned into a harpy, a monster. She was going to tell everyone. She would ruin me, tell everyone what a disgusting creature I was.” Her voice was thready with tears. “She turned and stormed out of the bedroom, and I—I went after her. I couldn’t let her tell them. I couldn’t let her leave me. I loved her, and I wanted her to understand that there was nothing wrong with that sort oflove.”
The room was ice cold now. The draperies were fluttering. Gilda was staring with wide eyes, spinning in a slow circle, still with her gun. “What is going on here?” she whispered. “Who’sthere?”
But Leslie paid her no attention, and neither did Regina, who clearly had to finish her story. “I caught her by the arm, but she pulled away and then started hitting me, calling me those terrible names again…all the while that song was playing in the background…‘Waiting for a Girl Like You’…and then I shoved her. Hard. I was so—so filled with anger and shame and revulsion—for myself, for what I felt. I lashed out. I pushed her. And shefell.”
The air whipped up into a sudden, biting frenzy. It roared, the sound filling Leslie’s ears. Her hair was being buffeted about, and she felt the icy breeze scoring her face. Gilda was stumbling along the wall, trying to get away from the melee of wind, dust, and noise. She was making quiet, panting cries as she edged toward the frontdoor.
“Is that you, Kristen?” shouted Regina over the blast. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. “Is thatyou?”
Then she stilled and looked up. Leslie didn’t have to turn to know what caught her attention, but she didanyway.
It was Kristen, glowing more sharply and in more detail than ever before. Her eyes were angry pits of fire, and as she lifted her arm to point at Regina, the wind screamed through the room and the sounds of the old song filled the air. This time, it was so loud and violent that Leslie had to cover her ears andduck.
But she could see Regina—who hadn’t moved. Who just stood there, staring up at the furious spirit. Tears poured down her cheeks as her hair whipped and danced in the midst of the storm. “I’m sorry,” she cried. “I’m sorry, Kristen. I never…meant…to…hurt…you…”
“The door’s locked!” screamed Gilda. “I can’t get out!” Leslie spared a glance at the terrified woman, then turned her attention back to the scene happening beforeher.
Kristen spiraled up into a tall, glowing image of herself—slender and beautiful and furious. The now-familiar music was ear-splitting, dark and ugly andlow.
Then, as Leslie watched with terrified eyes of her own, the ghost roared down the stairs, bringing more icy, biting winds with her, shuffling the half-moored carpet, shaking the old sconces on the walls, the crystal of the unlit chandelier. Debris flew, the walls shook, and Gilda screamed as the glowing specter swept down into the room and shot right throughRegina.
At the impact, Regina cried out, shuddered…and then suddenly, she stilled. Softened, then collapsed. Slid slowly to the ground, landing in an unmoving heapthere.
And then…everything went utterly silent andstill.
“Reggie!” screamed Gilda, moving from the safety of the door for the firsttime.
Leslie noticed she’d dropped her gun, but it didn’t even matter—she knew she wassafe.
It wasdone.
Twenty-Two
By the timeDeclan arrived at Shenstone House—as Leslie knew he would—the police and EMTs had arrived. She’d used Regina’s cell phone to contact both, for Regina appeared to be dead, and of course Leslie’s own phone was at Gilda’sGoodies.
Gilda herself was a wreck and hadn’t even realized she’d dropped her gun. She sat in a corner, her trendy red glasses long gone and her hair in a waxed-up mess, sobbing and shaking as if she’d seen aghost.
Which…
Leslie sighed. She wasn’t sure how she was going to get Helga van Hest—who was the one who answered the emergency call—to actually believe her, so when she saw Declan rush into the foyer from the kitchen, panic on his face, the first thing she did was launch herself into his arms—rift or norift.
“Oh my God, Leslie, two nights in a row—you can’t keepdoingthis to me!” He was shaking as he crushed her against him—and he didn’t even know what happened. “I’ve been trying to call you, and text you, and—you absolutelycan’tkeep doing this or I’m going to have to break up with you. And I’ll take Rufus withme.”
