Girl of Nightmares (21 page)

“Cas,” she says gently, and looks me right in the eyes. “Shut up.”

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY

The train ride feels long. Which doesn’t make sense. It should feel short and too soon, my nerves should be shot, wondering what the fuck I’m going to find on the other end of the track. The cautionary speeches of my mom, and Morfran, and Gideon roll back and forth between my ears. I hear my dad too, telling me the way he always used to, that there’s never an excuse to not be afraid. He said the fear kept you sharp, that it kept you steadfastly holding on to your life. Rapid heartbeats to keep that heartbeat fresh in your mind. It’s maybe the one piece of his advice that I threw away. I had my share of fear in the years after his murder. And besides, when I think of his death, I don’t like to think that he died afraid.

Outside, there’s nothing but stretches of green, lined with trees. The countryside is still pastoral, and if I saw a carriage roll through one of the fields I wouldn’t blink. There’s so much of it that it may as well go on forever. It didn’t take long for the city to fade out behind us after we left the station at King’s Cross.

I’m sitting with Jestine, who has clammed up and is strung tight as a bow. This is what she’s been waiting for her whole life, I suppose. My replacement. The thought of it sticks in my throat. But if that’s what it takes, will I do it? If that’s the price of saving Anna, if we get there and all they ask me to do in exchange is politely hand over my father’s athame, will I do it? I’m not sure. I never thought that I wouldn’t be sure.

Across the compartment, Carmel and Thomas sit side by side. They’re talking a little, but mostly staring out the window. Since Carmel got here, what we’re doing feels mostly like playacting, trying to get our old dynamic back when it’s obviously been altered. But we’ll keep trying, until we get it right.

My mind strays to Anna, and the image of her blooms up so strong in my senses that I can almost see her reflection in the window. It takes everything I’ve got to blink and stop seeing it.

“Why don’t you want to think about her?” Thomas asks, and I jump. He’s sitting behind me now, leaned over the partition of the seats. Stupid train noise. Carmel is stretched out across the seats, and beside me Jestine is out cold too, curled up against her duffel bag.

“She’s the reason for all this,” he says. “So what’s with the guilt?”

I squint at him. He finds his way in my head at the most inopportune times. “Carmel’s going to have a very annoying life.”

“Carmel’s figured out how to block me, for the most part.” He shrugs. “You, not so much. So?”

“I don’t know.” I sigh. “Because when I do, there’s a lot of shit I’m forgetting.”

“Like what?”

He knows that I don’t really want to talk about this. I can barely get it straight in my own head.

“Can I just think the random crap that’s going through my head and you can figure it out?”

“Only if you want me to get an unstoppable nosebleed.” He grins. “Just … talk.”

Like that’s the simplest thing in the world. The words have built up in my throat, and if I open my mouth I’m going to heave for who knows how long.

“Fine. The Obeahman, for one. If I’m right, then he’s there too. And we all remember how well he kicked my ass last time. Now he’s even kicking hers. For two, what kind of Machiavellian shit am I going to step in with the Order? Jestine said there would be a price, and of that I have no doubt. And then there’s this test that we’re all running blindly into.”

“We don’t have a choice,” Thomas says. “The clock ticks. Caution’s become a luxury.”

I snort. If caution is a luxury for me, that’s fine. I know what I’m willing to pay. Thomas and Carmel aren’t a part of it, but they might get pulled in anyway.

“Look,” he says. “The situation is dark. Maybe even pitch black, if you want to get really dramatic.” He smiles. “But don’t feel guilty about being excited to see her again.
I’m
excited to see her again.”

There’s no doubt in his eyes. He’s absolutely certain that the plan will go from A to B, and everything will work out with rainbows and pots of gold. It’s like he’s completely forgotten just how many people I got killed last fall.

*   *   *

We changed trains in Glasgow and finally disembarked at Loch Etive, a sprawling, stretching lake of blue that reflects the sky with eerie stillness. When we crossed it on the ferry to the north bank, I couldn’t shake the awareness of the depth beneath the boat, the idea that the reflection of sky and clouds was masking an entire world of darkness, caves, and swimming things. I’m glad to be across, on solid ground. There’s moss here, and moisture in the air, clearing my lungs. But even now I feel the lake over my shoulder, sitting still and sinister as the yawning jaws of a trap. I much prefer Superior, with her waves and rages. She doesn’t keep her violence a secret.

Jestine’s got her phone out. She’s been periodically checking for texts from Gideon, but isn’t really expecting one. “Mobile service in the north country is spotty,” she said. Now she clicks her phone closed and rolls her neck back and around, stretching after sleeping in what was roughly a
Q
shape for hours on the train. Her hair is down and loose on her shoulders. We’re all dressed comfortably, in layers and athletic shoes, backpacks affixed, looking for all the world like hikers out walking the country, which I guess is fairly common. The only things that set us apart are our pinched, nervous expressions. There is a very strong, stranger-in-a-strange-land vibe passing between us. I’m used to finding my feet fast in new places. God knows I’ve moved around enough. Maybe planting roots in Thunder Bay has made me soft. Having to rely on Jestine for everything doesn’t sit well either, but there’s no other option. At least she’s doing a decent job of keeping Thomas and Carmel’s minds off of what lies ahead by telling colorful local stories. She talks of ancient heroes and loyal hounds, and tells us about the dude from Braveheart and where he held his meetings. By the time she pulls us into a pub for fries and burgers, I realize she’s taken my mind off everything too.

“I’m glad you two have worked things out,” Jestine says, looking across the table at Carmel and Thomas. “You make a very cute couple.”

Carmel smiles and adjusts her hair, pulled into a sporty ponytail. “Nah,” she says, and nudges Thomas with her shoulder. “He’s too pretty for me.” Thomas grins, grabs her hand, and kisses it. Since they just got back together, I’m willing to let this PDA business slide.

Jestine grins and takes a deep breath. “We may as well stay here for the night and start off in the morning. There are rooms for board upstairs and we’ve got a long hike tomorrow.” She raises her brows at Thomas and Carmel. “How do you want to room? The two of you and the two of us? Or boys in one, girls in the other?”

“Boys in one,” I say quickly.

“Right. Back in a minute.” Jestine gets up to make the arrangements, leaving me with my gaping friends.

“Where’d that come from?” Carmel asks.

“Where’d what come from?”

As usual, playing dumb gets me nowhere.

“Is there something going on?” She gestures with her head toward Jestine. “No,” she says, answering her own question. But she’s looking at Jestine, measuring just how attractive she is.

“Of course there isn’t,” I say.

“Of course there isn’t,” Thomas echoes. “Although,” he says, and narrows his eyes. “Cas does have a weakness for girls who can kick his ass.”

I laugh and throw a fry at him. “Jestine did not kick my ass. And besides, like Carmel can’t kick yours?” We smile and go back to eating with the mood shades lighter. But when Jestine returns to the table, I avoid looking at her, just to make a point.

*   *   *

My eyes are open in the dark. There isn’t any real light in the room, only soft, cold blues streaming in from the window. Thomas is snoring in his bed next to mine, but not sawing logs or anything. It wasn’t him that woke me. Not a nightmare, either. There’s no adrenaline in my blood, no twitchy feeling in my back or legs. Whispering. I remember whispering, but I can’t separate it from dream or waking sound. My eyes swivel to the window, out toward the lake. But that’s not it. Of course it isn’t. That lake isn’t going to slither out of its banks and come up here after us, no matter how many things it has pulled under and drowned.

Probably just nerves. But even as I think so, my legs swing out of bed and I pull my jeans on, then slide the athame out from underneath the pillow.
Go with your gut
is the credo that has served me best, and my gut says there’s a reason that I’m suddenly awake in the middle of the night. And I’m wide awake, stark fucking awake. The dry chill of the floor against my bare feet doesn’t even make me flinch.

When I open the door of our room, the hallway is silent. That almost never happens; there’s always a noise of some kind coming from somewhere, the creaking of the building against its foundation, the distant hum of a running refrigerator. But right now there’s nothing, and it feels like a cloak.

There isn’t enough light. No matter how wide I open my eyes, they can’t take enough in to see much of anything, and I only vaguely remember the layout of the hall from walking up to our rooms. We took two left turns. Carmel and Jestine went farther back; the door to their room was around the corner. The athame shifts in my palm; the wood slides against my skin.

Someone screams and I bolt toward the sound. Carmel’s calling me. Then all of a sudden she isn’t. When her voice cuts off, my adrenaline spikes. I’m in their open doorway in two seconds, squinting against the light from Jestine’s bedside lamp.

Carmel’s out of bed, squeezed against the wall. Jestine’s still in bed, but sitting straight up. Her eyes are fixed across the room, and her lips move rapidly in a Gaelic chant, her voice coming even and strong from her throat. There’s a woman standing in the middle of the room in a long, white nightgown. A shock of white-blond hair spirals out over her shoulders and down her back. She’s obviously dead, her skin more purple than white, and there are deep grooves in it, like wrinkles, except that she isn’t old. It’s shriveled, like she was left to rot in a bathtub.

“Carmel,” I say, and hold my hand out. She hears but doesn’t react; maybe she’s too shocked to move. Jestine’s voice gets progressively louder and the ghost rises from the floor. The yellowed teeth are bared; she’s getting more pissed by the second. When she starts to thrash, she sprays putrid water everywhere. Carmel squeaks and covers her face with her arm.

“Cas! I can’t hold her much longer,” Jestine says, and the moment she does, the spell loses its grip and the ghost rushes the bed.

I don’t think; I just throw the knife. It leaves my hand and runs into her chest with a meaty
thock,
like it just connected with the trunk of a tree. It drops her on the spot.

“What’s going on?” Thomas asks, running into me from behind and shoving past to get to Carmel.

“Good question,” I say, and move farther into the room so I can close the door. Jestine leans over the edge of her bed and stares down at the body. Before I can say something soothing, she reaches out and shoves it, turning it face up, the athame’s handle sticking squarely out of the chest.

“Isn’t it supposed to … disintegrate or something?” she asks, cocking her head.

“Well, sometimes they explode,” I say, and she backs off fast. I shrug. “He’d been disemboweled already, but when I put the athame into what was left, his gut sort of … blew up. Not into tiny bits or anything.”

“Eee.” Jestine makes a face.

“Cas,” Carmel says, and when I look at her, she shakes her head at me. I shut up, but really, if she expects delicacy then she probably shouldn’t have come back. I walk to the ghost. The eyes aren’t visible anymore; either they’ve disappeared, or they’ve fallen back into the skull. Despite the inherent grossness of the rotten, purple skin, and the way it shines like she was just lifted from the water, it isn’t any worse than the other things I’ve seen. If this is what the Order calls a test, I’ve been worrying too much. I toe the ghost tentatively. It’s just a corporeal shell now. It’ll degrade in its own way, and if it doesn’t, I suppose we could weigh it down and sink it into the lake.

“What happened?” I ask Jestine.

“It was strange,” she replies. “I was asleep, and then I wasn’t. There was something moving in the room. It was bent over Carmel’s bed.” She nods at Carmel, still standing by the door, with Thomas’s arm around her shoulders. “So I started chanting.”

I look at Carmel to confirm, but she shrugs.

“When I woke up it was by my bed. Jestine was saying something.” She leans into Thomas. “It was all pretty fast.”

“What was that chant?” Thomas asks.

“Just a Gaelic binding spell. I’ve known it since I was little.” She shrugs. “It’s not what I had planned on using. It was the first thing that popped into my head.”

“What do you mean it’s not what you’d planned on using? Why were you planning to use something?” I ask.

“Well I wasn’t; not really. I just knew this place was haunted. I didn’t know for sure if the ghost would show up. Just said a few words as we crossed the threshold, to entice it, and then went to sleep and hoped.”

“Are you fucking nuts?” Thomas shouts. I put my hand out, gesturing to keep his voice down. He presses his lips together and bugs his eyes out at me.

“You did this on purpose?” I ask Jestine.

“I thought it’d be good practice,” she replies. “And I’ll admit, I was curious. I’ve been taught about the athame being used, but of course I’ve never seen it.”

“Well, the next time you get curious, you might think about telling your bunkmate,” Carmel snaps. Thomas kisses the top of her head and squeezes her tighter.

I stare down at the corpse. Wondering who she was. Wondering if she would have been a ghost I would have needed to kill. Jestine sits unaffected at the foot of the bed. I’d like to throttle her, yell until her ears pop about putting people in danger. Instead I reach down to pull the athame loose. When my fingers close around the handle, they hesitate, and my stomach does a small flip when I have to jerk at it to get the blade out of the bone.