Thirty-three – 03

“Relax,” Seamus’s voice whispered from somewhere close. Thom blinked and realized he could see again—from a vantage that wasn’t on his knees at the warding lines. He and Seamus hovered together somewhere far above the trees of the ravine. He could see himself down near the rim, Seamus gripping his hand. Thom’s heart started to beat a little faster.

“What the hell is this?” he breathed, glancing sidelong at the master of the Wild Hunt.

“Can you still hear it?” Seamus asked quietly. “The laughter? I think I can hear it now, too, but I need your help. You know the lay of this place far better than I. We need to find the source. It’s less dangerous this way.”

“How are you doing this?”

Seamus smiled briefly. “Phelan never learned every trick in the book. Just a little trick I’ve refined. They can’t see us up here and physically we’re down there.”

Thom squinted. He could see faint shadows below, pale and silvery even in the dark. He sucked in a breath. “We’re like ghosts.”

“Something like,” Seamus agreed. “Now focus. It’s a woman laughing.”

“Or a girl,” Thom said, shivering. He twisted slightly, eyes scanning the darkened trees. It wasn’t any good—it was too dark to see.

Then he saw a dark blot against the white of the arboretum, crossing the snow-covered expanse and moving in the direction of the rubble that used to be Au Sable Hall. “There.”

Seamus looked just as the figure twisted, blue-eyes flashing bright even at this distance.  Thom gasped, body stiffening.  Seamus clamped down on his hand even tighter.

“Don’t let go,” the elder man hissed. “Damn you, whatever you do, don’t let go.”

“What happens if I let go?” Thom managed to ask.

“Considering the look we just got?” Seamus grimaced. “Something devours you before your soul makes it back to your body.”

The laughter rose to a shriek and the woman’s words shivered Thom’s bones right to the marrow.

“I see you, Father,” the dark figure in the arboretum shrieked. “The time’s finally here. A reckoning comes, face me if you dare or the blood of your blood, bone of your bone will pay the price for your reluctance.

“I have him already,” she cackled. “If you want him back, come to me.”

She sprinted across the white and disappeared amidst the shattered concrete and broken glass of the building. Seamus sucked in a breath, swearing softly.

“Phelan,” he breathed. “She’s got Phelan.”

“J.T. has Phelan,” Thom said, heart starting to beat faster. His stomach roiled. Something wasn’t right. Was Seamus right?

Of course.

“Frakking—” Thom swallowed bile. “She clawed his soul free, didn’t she? Somehow, she’s got the most important part of him.”

Seamus set his jaw. “Not for long she doesn’t. Not if I have anything to say about it.”

“She called you Father.”

“She’s Albina’s daughter,” he whispered. “Thesan. Blood of my blood, flesh of my flesh, bone of my bone.” Seamus’s expression hardened. “But not soul of my soul.”

They plunged back toward their bodies in the blink of an eye.

Liked it? Take a second to support Erin on Patreon!
Become a patron at Patreon!
This entry was posted in Book 4, Chapter 33, Story, Winter. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Thirty-three – 03

  1. Ewwww, another creepy entity. All these “persons” need to climb back into their graves. (if they ever were in one) Ahh, how I long for the good old days: silver bullets, holy water, heads chopped off, wooden stakes driven through the heart…….. LOL

    Thanks for yet another eerie addition.

Got thoughts?

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.