The Ghost Files 4: Part 1

  The Ghost Files

  Volume 4 - Part 1

  By Apryl Baker

  The Ghost Files

  Copyright © 2016 by Apryl Baker.

  All rights reserved.

  First Print Edition: December 2016

  Limitless Publishing, LLC

  Kailua, HI 96734

  www.limitlesspublishing.com

  Formatting: Limitless Publishing

  ISBN-13: 978-1-68058-924-5

  ISBN-10: 1-68058-924-5

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

  Dedication

  For all the foster kids out there who believe they don’t have a voice.

  You do.

  All you have to do is speak up.

  Table Of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

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  Chapter One

  Liar.

  That one word screams over and over into my head as I stare at the picture of me and my mom. Doc is babbling, but I haven’t heard a word of it. All I can focus on is that he lied to me. He knew who I was when he got my email all those months ago. I trusted him, told him everything!

  The only people who have never lied to me are a demon who’s decided I’m his new pet project, and my father, who’s a bad man himself. He admits it, doesn’t apologize for it, but he doesn’t lie. I snort at the stupidity of it. The only people I can trust are the very ones I shouldn’t.

  “Mattie, please listen to me.”

  Because your mother gave it to me…

  Lawrence Olivet, spook doctor extraordinaire, and my friend.

  Or so I thought.

  He knew my mom, knew me. Why would she give him a picture of us? Did she tell him what I could do? Is that why he was so eager to get to know me, worked so hard to make me trust him? What’s his angle?

  “I’m not the enemy, Mattie,” Doc says softly. “I just want to help you.”

  “By lying to me?” I shout the words, but I try to stay calm. “How did you get in the house?”

  He runs a hand through his dark brown hair. “There was a key under the doormat. Not a very good hiding spot.”

  No, it isn’t, but that I can fix.

  Doc takes a step toward me and I automatically take one back. The sink is right behind me, and Mrs. Cross keeps her knives in their block right beside the dish drainer. My hand inches toward it. I have a weapon if I need it.

  “Do you honestly think I would hurt you?” There is no mistaking the wounded sound in his voice.

  “I don’t know.” I remember the crazy look in his eyes when I first got here. He’d reminded me of Silas, the demon who knows way too much about me. Silas scares the bejesus out of me.

  He makes a sound like a growl and the demonic look creeps back in his eyes, and I shiver. It’s hard to describe. His eyes remind me of a frozen lake you are walking on, and then just when you think you’re safe, it cracks and you go under.

  “Mattie, all I’ve ever wanted is to make sure you’re safe. I had planned to tell you everything that first day. It was my intention from the moment you contacted me. Then I met you, and realized you wouldn’t be as receptive as I’d hoped. You have serious trust issues and I needed you to trust me. When you told me about your father, I knew I had to tell you the truth. You needed to know why your mother was scared enough to send you away with Amanda. All I want is to protect you, Mattie. I swear to all that’s holy, it’s the only intention I’ve ever had.”

  My head is pounding and I can’t think. After Meg and Jake dying right in front of me tonight, this is all too much. I need to scream, to cry, to hit something…or someone. All the emotions I’ve been barely holding at bay start to build up—the anger, the fury, and the pain.

  Doc’s eyes go wide and he takes several steps away from me. I’m guessing my own eyes have gone black. They seem to be doing that a lot since Dan almost died. Something snapped in me during those three days I sat by his hospital bed, begging him not to leave me. I can’t seem to stomp down my need to cause others pain anymore. Right now, that need is directed at Doc.

  “Mattie, you need to calm down.” He slides farther away from me. “I’m not going to hurt you. If you’ll just let me explain…”

  “No, I don’t need to calm down. You lied to me, and I don’t trust you anymore. What I’m going to do is walk out the door, and I want you gone before Mary and her mom get back.” My voice is low and calm, but there’s a definite bite to it. “Do you understand?”

  He nods, but I don’t think he understands, not really. “I’m staying at The Hilton, room three-oh-four,” he says. “When you calm down and want to talk, just call or stop by. I’m here when you’re ready.”

  I snort. Not a chance of that happening anytime soon. If I can get out of here without him hurting me or me hurting him, I’ll count it as a blessing. There’s just something about the look in his eyes that puts my senses on red alert. I square my shoulders and stride purposefully toward the doorway, keeping my eyes on Doc the entire time. Once I hit the living room, I grab my bag off the chair and am out the door, pulling it closed behind me.

  Dan meets me halfway, a frown on his face. I shake my head and push him back toward the car. I don’t want him anywhere near Doc, not yet. I have to figure all this out first.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks, confused. “Your eyes…they’re black.”

  I close them and take several deep breaths, concentrating on Dan and how happy I am that he’s alive. Dan always centers me. I open my eyes. “Better?”

  “Yeah, but what…”

  “I’ll explain later.” I don’t want to get into it right now. “Promise.”

  I groan when my father, Ezekiel Crane, gets out of the car, concerned. Great. I so do not need Zeke and Doc meeting just yet.

  “Just a ghost.” A ghost from my past I never even knew was there. “After everything that’s happened tonight, I can’t deal with it.”

  “Of course not.” Zeke steps out of the way so Dan and I can get in. “I had to remove the ghost-proofing from the apartment because of your…er…”

  “Danny Phantom syndrome?” I supply with a weak smile. Seems I have collected so much ghost energy, the things that ward ghosts away also keep me from entering as well.

  Zeke cocks his head and stares at me, his expression full of questions.

  “It’s a cartoon about a boy who had so much ghost energy, he could turn into a ghost when he wanted to.”

  “You have this ability, ma petite?” Zeke’s eyes are wide with shock.

  “No.” I snuggle into Dan, careful to keep my sprained wrist out of the way. “I was just using it as an analogy.”

  Zeke’s eyes narrow, but he doesn’t say anything about me wrapped around Dan. Dan has been through a lot tonight. He lost Meg. She died because my ex-
boyfriend’s brother was obsessed with her and decided to exercise his serial killer tendencies. Everything bad that’s happened to Dan always seems to center around me. He says he doesn’t blame me, but this time is different. Meg died. Once the shock wears off, I have to wonder if he’ll come to hate me. Even now, I think he’s already distancing himself. He’s limp, not pushing me away, but not pulling me closer either, and it worries me.

  “I have a few experts working on ways to adapt the ghost-proofing to your unique situation,” Zeke continues. “This has never happened before, at least not that I can find. We may need some of the experts to test you…”

  “Test me?” I sit up, instantly suspicious after the confrontation with Doc. “Test me for what, exactly?”

  “How your energy interacts with the barriers set up to keep ghosts out,” Zeke explains patiently. “If we don’t know the how and the why, we can’t find a good fix for it. We need to be able to keep the ghosts out so I can keep you safe.”

  Zeke’s blue eyes are open and honest, and I believe him. He only wants to help me. Usually his eyes are full of secrets. Once again, I’m struck by how much he looks like the actor who plays Ichabod Crane on Fox’s Sleepy Hollow. I think it’s the shoulder length hair and the nose. He just looks like the guy.

  Nodding, I sit back, noticing Dan hasn’t moved. I’m worried about him. Maybe he’s in shock. He’s way too pale. The man shouldn’t even be out of the hospital after the brain injury he suffered a few days ago. Which was my fault too. Silas used Dan as a guinea pig for a demonic rune he wanted to use on me. If Dan survived, so would I.

  Dan nearly died, was supposed to die, but I fought with another Reaper to keep him with me. I understood the consequences, knew it would cost people their lives. But at the time, I didn’t care. All that mattered was keeping Dan alive. It ended up costing him Meg. If Dan had died, she’d have been home grieving instead of at the stupid party where we both got nabbed. She’d be alive…but Dan would be dead, and there’s not a scenario where I could ever live with that.

  “I have a doctor meeting us at the penthouse.” Zeke interrupts my thoughts. “I think the boy’s in shock.”

  “I think you’re right,” I agree. Dan doesn’t even blink. I’m not sure he even heard us. “Maybe we should just take him back to the hospital.”

  “It will be fine, ma petite. I will let nothing happen to your friend. I promise. If the doctor recommends taking him to the hospital, then that’s what we’ll do.”

  “I can’t lose him.” Not after everyone else I’ve lost. I can’t lose Dan.

  “You won’t.” Zeke’s voice is confident. “I swear it.”

  I want to believe him, but no one can promise that, not even Dan.

  “Did you collect any clothes, Mattie?”

  I shake my head, glancing down at my bag. It only had my wallet, my sketchpad, and some charcoal pencils. “Ghost, remember?”

  Zeke pulls out his phone and starts texting. Lord only knows what he’s up to. If he can produce a toothbrush, I really don’t care. It’s been a long night.

  When we pull into the private parking garage of Zeke’s high rise, I’m relieved. It only takes a few minutes to ride up to the top floor, but Dan’s just going through the motions. He’s freaking me out, so much that I’m able to forget about Doc for a few minutes. This is not good. Maybe we should take him back to the hospital. Zeke’s butler, Montgomery, opens the door, grim-faced, and ushers us into the massive living room. The promised doctor rises from the chair he’d been sitting in, takes one look at Dan, and has Montgomery help him take Dan down the hall. To one of the guest bedrooms, I’m guessing.

  “He’ll be fine, Mattie,” Zeke says. “Mrs. Banks went shopping and picked a few things up for you and Daniel while we were on our way over. The only place open this early is that Walmart store. I hope everything will be to your satisfaction.”

  “Walmart’s fine. I shop there all the time.” A small smile almost manages to break free at the grimace on Zeke’s face. I doubt he’s ever even been inside a Walmart. I’m going to have to introduce him to the finer things available at 4:00 a.m. that can only be found in Wally World, as I affectionately call Walmart.

  “Are you okay?” he asks softly, coming to stand in front of me. “Everyone’s been focused on Daniel because of Megan’s death, but I haven’t forgotten the fact you almost died yourself tonight. If you hadn’t been able to fight, neither of you would have stood a chance. You’d be dead yourself, Emma Rose.” The name he’d given me at birth slips out, unbidden. His hand trembles as he places it on my shoulder. I can feel his hesitation. He’s not sure how I’ll respond. “I owe Daniel and the Malone boys a great debt. I owe them your life.”

  I do something I’ve wanted to do since I first met Zeke. I wrap my arms around him and bury my face in his shirt. He stills, shocked, but then pulls me into the same kind of bear hug Dan usually does after a near death experience. He and I were only reunited a few weeks ago, haven’t really gotten the chance to spend any time together, but at the same time, we have a connection I can’t define. He’s my dad. Maybe it’s as simple as that.

  “Shhh, ma petite,” he whispers. “You’re safe now.”

  For the first time in almost a year, I believe those words. I’ve never had a dad before, but I always imagined what it would be like to have one. Zeke may not be the best dad in the world, but he’s mine. And he makes me feel safe.

  I pull back and offer him a small smile. “I’m going to get cleaned up and then check on Dan. Where can I take a shower?”

  “Your bathroom, if you’d like. It has that soaker tub…” I’m shaking my head even before he finishes. I just managed to escape several angry ghost girls who had been trying to drown me for a week and almost accomplished it. Eli had to give me CPR to bring me back. Nope, no more tubs for me for a good long while. Zeke understands almost immediately. He’d come to see me in the hospital after the drowning. “Your bathroom has a shower in it as well.”

  I give Zeke another brief hug and then grab my bag and the Walmart bags sitting by the stairwell before heading up to find my room. I do remember where it is. On the way, I pass the guest rooms, but the doors are closed, so I limp down the hall to my own. It’s still barren. Zeke and I haven’t had the chance to go furniture shopping, but my bathroom? Now, that’s decked out as only a bathroom should be with a massive antique soaker tub, shower that has three shower heads, and is bigger than my and Mary’s room put together at the Cross house. I love it.

  I turn on the shower to let the tiles heat up. I hate stepping into a cold shower. My reflection in the mirror catches my attention, and I grimace at what I see staring back. I’m a mess. My face is bruised and I have a cut that’s stitched above my eye, which is already purpling up. My hair is matted with blood, and my left arm is encased in a brace. While I hadn’t broken my arm, I’d done some damage that requires seeing an orthopedic surgeon tomorrow. I could almost laugh if I wasn’t in so much pain. I look like I’ve survived the zombie apocalypse.

  Gingerly, I remove the brace, not wanting to get it wet, and then strip out of the dress in record time. It’s covered in Meg’s blood. I have no desire to ever see it again. I ball it up and stuff it in the trash can, hoping the housekeeping staff will take the hint. My shoulder gives me a bit of a fit. The bullet had only grazed my arm, but I’d wrenched the whole shoulder somehow. I’m still not sure how I managed that one. I wasn’t even aware of how much it hurt until the hospital x-rayed it. They’d started twisting and turning it, and I’d started snarling. I think they like to torture me when it comes to x-rays.

  My poor body is covered in bruises, scrapes, and small cuts. When the hot water hits all the fresh wounds, I hiss at the sting of pain. I watch the stream of red water as it runs over me and pools around the drain. Blood. Meg’s blood, my blood.

  She’s dead. She’s really dead. I bite back a sob. I’ve been mad at her for weeks, and she was trying so hard to make it right, to be my friend again.
I was such a witch to her, and now I can’t make it right. I sit down and just let the hot water wash over me. I don’t have the strength to stand. She’s gone. My best friend is gone, and I can’t bring her back. I try to keep my sobbing quiet as I rock back and forth in the shower, letting the hot water wash away Meg’s blood and my tears.

  I can’t let Dan see me like this. He needs me to be strong. He’s been there for me through everything, and now it’s my turn to do the same thing for him. I have to get it together. Pushing myself up, I grab up the shower gel and scrub the rest of the blood from my battered body. My hair is a little harder because of my arm and my shoulder. I have to sit down to accomplish that one. At least Zeke stocked my favorite scent—strawberries. The soap and the shampoo both smell like strawberries.

  Once I’m as clean as I can get without causing myself any more damage, I towel off as best I can and dig out a pair of clean underwear as well as flannel PJs. Mrs. Banks is a saint. She’d gotten me the warmest material around. Not only that, but there is toothpaste, a toothbrush, and deodorant. After taking care of my sewer mouth, I put my brace back on and grab my bag before padding back out into the hallway.

  The door to one of the guest rooms is cracked. I hurry down and peek in. Dan’s sound asleep. He’s clean too. The doctor must have had him take a hot shower to try to warm him up. People in shock need to stay warm. The curtains are open and the soft light from the moon hits his face. He looks vulnerable and lost, even asleep. How am I going to get him through this?

  I go plop down in the chair over by the window and turn on the table lamp. My first instinct is to crawl into bed with him, but he needs warmth, and my body temperature always runs cold thanks to the ghost energy I’ve collected. I might make him worse if I cuddle up next to him. So, I’ll draw. It’s the one thing that might settle me down.

  My bag feels heavier than usual. Frowning, I open it and see the photo album Zeke gave me the other day. I’d forgotten about it. There are pictures of my family in there. I pull it out and stare at the cover. My family. Proof I had people who’d loved me. Proof of a father, a mother, and grandparents. It’s all right here. I just have to open it and look.