Page 19 of Mea Culpa

I really hoped the voice recorder was picking up her responses because while I could see her in my mind, I couldn’t hear her. That was sometimes the case with me and daytime investigations. Before three p.m., I was slightly removed from those across the veil.

“Mary, if that’s you, it’s good to see you. It’s lovely that you’re still here in your beloved home that your husband built. We hope to see and speak with him, too, if he’s still around.” I waited a beat to let her answer if she wanted to and could.

“None of the other homeowners have tried to make you leave, have they?” I waited again.

In my mind, I saw her pointing out, down, and to the left, in the direction of the damaged area of the other house and near where the walkway was that led to the attached building.

“I know there was some damage there. I’m sorry that anything happened to your beautiful home.” I felt sadness creep in and wasn’t sure if it was just me feeling sad or if it was her.

She shook her head and donned a look of frustration as if she were trying to tell me something that I just wasn’t getting. She jabbed her finger again, shook her head once more, and then said something that I still couldn’t hear. I hoped that the recorder could, and we’d find out more during playback.

Just as fast as she’d popped into my head, Mary disappeared. I imagined maybe she’d used up all her energy. It was harder for spirits to manifest in any capacity during the day. They could do it, of course, and did so more regularly than most people thought, but itwasharder.

I shut off the recorder and made a note in my small notebook of what the start and end timestamps were so I could go back and review whatever I’d caught later. It was too loud right now, and I wanted to use headphones anyway.

I walked back downstairs, waving to Sky and Padre, who were in the living room, and then opened my senses in the hall to the back rooms to see if I could pick anything else up. I suddenly picked up the presence of children and felt hands on mine and on my legs. I closed my eyes, trying to tap into the energy. I didn’t get any images or sense words this time, just presences. And some emotions. There was trepidation and curiosity. Something I would expect from spirits who may not yet realize they were dead.

There were at least three. Perhaps more. I jotted down a few impressions in my notebook and tiptoed past Aaron and James doing some pre-shoot camera work, getting glamour shots of the details of the house and some generic footage of everybody working.

I quietly headed outside and walked across the street to the sister house on the other corner. Dev was in the back section of the lot with his rattle, likely calling to the lwas and the spirits and setting more protections. I didn’t want to interrupt or bother him, so I just slipped in. Lennie and Van were in the entryway with a floorplan of the house, talking about where to set static cameras and microphones. Without Turner here today, a lot of that work fell to them.

“Hey, guys.”

Lennie looked up. “Hey, Birdie. All done across the street?”

I nodded. “For now, I think. Made contact with the lady of the house.” Van raised his eyebrow. “And a couple of kids. Other than that, it was pretty quiet.”

“I think Dakota’s upstairs,” Lennie said. “Besides her, and Kholt out back fixing some shit, you have the place to yourself. We’ll stay out of your hair. Van and I need to talk about the new laser grid device we created and decide where to place it.”

“Ooh, new tech? I love it. I can’t wait to see.”

Van smiled. “It’s pretty damn cool. I can’t wait to show everybody and give it a test run.”

I gave Van a fist bump and walked down the hall. The Arnot twins were some of the best engineers I had ever met. Van could create just about anything. He was an absolute hardware and inventive wizard. And Lennie was way, way too smart for her own good. She created and manipulated software and circuitry like nobody’s business. It was like her own special brand of magic. We were damn lucky to have them. Plus, they made it way more fun.

When I got closer to the area where Kholt and I had found the most damage the other day, a wave of energy hit me, almost taking me to my knees. I grunted, all the air rushing out of me as if I’d been punched in the gut.What the hell?

I sucked in as much oxygen as I could and looked around, trying to see if I could get a better feel for what was going on. I didn’t see anything, nor could I order my thoughts or gather my magic enough to home in on what had just nailed me. And then I felt it, like being smothered by a too-heavy weighted blanket. Urgency. Panic. Fear. So, so much fear. And then anger. Bitterness. Sadness. Followed by despair, and finally . . . acceptance.

It wasn’t new. Nothing happening right now was the result of an intelligent spirit. This was residual energy—an echo of something that’d happened in the past. Sometimes these kinds of hauntings could create poltergeist-like phenomena. But as fast and as hard as it hit me, once I felt that capitulation, it was just . . . gone.

I sucked in another breath. Something had happened here. Something bad. I was beginning to think that maybe the fire hadn’t been an accident—and perhaps did way more damage than just to the house. That brought back some horrible and tragic memories from my past, and those almost took me down again. Screams. Smoke. Pleading, crying. Hands holding me back. The inability to reconcile what I was being told with what I’d seen and heard. I felt my throat closing and my eyes burning, my veins fizzing with electric adrenaline.

I didn’t even realize I’d doubled over and was retching. Suddenly, I felt arms around me and heard a panicked voice.

“Lark. Lark! Are you okay? Talk to me. What’s wrong? What happened? Are you hurt?”

Kholt.

He pulled me against him and smoothed my hair. I raised my gaze from his chest to his eyes and took in those bluebell orbs from behind his glasses. He held me so tenderly, so carefully, as if I were spun glass, and didn’t take his eyes off me. Just kept whispering to me and asking me if I was okay. Despite the horror that had sent me into his arms, I felt . . . cherished.

I finally found my ability to speak. “I—” My voice cracked. “I’m okay. The energy in here is just really strong today. Lots and lots of residual haunting stuff, and I was just super open and a bit unprepared so it kind of flattened me.” I swallowed, trying to wet my suddenly dry mouth. “I’m okay, really. I blocked it now.”

He didn’t let me go. Instead, he moved his hand to cup my face, his thumb on my cheek, his fingers under the fall of my hair at my nape, and looked at me even harder.

My breaths came quicker. Despite what’d just happened and the fact that I still hadn’t worked through the mountain of things that having Kholt back in my life had resurrected, being in his arms right now, surrounded by his bergamot and pepper scent, his hand cradling me like a lover, I just wanted to get lost in the moment for a beat. So, I did.

For a minute, a brief, anticipatory shiver of time, I thought he might kiss me. And I didn’t think I’d stop him. But then he seemed to come to his senses and took a step back, not letting me go entirely but not letting himself get lost anymore as I had been.


Tags: Rayvn Salvador Paranormal