Page 31 of Possessed By Shadows

Chapter 9

Iwas not sure what to do with the new information. The set of Micah’s shoulders showed tension and betrayal without him saying a word. Lukas had known it was legit, had proof. Had he shared with anyone other than YouTube fans? Sometimes validation helped. Made us feel a little less crazy. Though instead of proving to us that he knew it was real, he’d turned it into a way to make a buck. I wasn’t sure anything could fix this.

Micah dragged us downstairs and outside, where we became the end of the line as everyone unloaded junk from the attic. We stood near the dumpster, throwing things in, barely speaking. My dad hadn’t said much else. But with the slew of people working and crap to throw out, we couldn’t dwell on the mess my brother had started. At least that was my reasoning.

“He’s supposed to check in today,” Sky said softly as we handed things off, throwing broken bits of furniture and moldy boxes of old clothes in the dumpster.

I had thought that meant Lukas would be back today. But the resigned expression on Micah’s face indicated otherwise. Check in did not technically mean he’d physically show up.

“I don’t want to get involved,” I told Micah. “Whatever this ghost thing is. Even if it’s making him rich or something.” I didn’t want to be the puppet he brought out to attract new viewership.

“There’s a class this afternoon,” Sky said. “On shielding. I’m already signed up, but you can come with. Dion won’t mind.”

Micah nodded, not really saying anything. I wasn’t sure all the shielding in the world could help, but was willing to try. I hoped we would get out of here soon. He kept glancing up at the house, though his gaze didn’t linger on any particular window. Had the thing in the attic looked like something he’d seen before? It hadn’t been clear enough for me to tell. Not the black-eyed child, or even theDeathmonster I’d seen a handful of times in my life. But on video, a grainy moving thing that most people wouldn’t have even seen, it was hard to really tell.

The line of junk was beginning to slow. The dumpster heaped full of things, and a handful of people crawling through it looking for something to salvage. We didn’t care, as long as they stayed out of the house, they could take what they wanted.

My dad reappeared, he’d been up close to the attic, while none of us wanted anything to do with the space. Was the disapproval on his face for our cowardness in not wanting to deal with whatever he’d seen, or something else? I tried not to flinch when he stepped in close.

“I’m having a priest come out and bless the house,” he said.

I blinked at him. “You’re not Catholic.”

“Does that matter?”

“A blessing might make it worse,” Micah said. “Agitate whatever is in there. I’d have someone come in and cleanse it first.”

“Isn’t that what a priest would do?” My father asked.

“Christian religions are a bit like a sledgehammer. Provoking things rather than calming things,” Sky added. “I can give you the number for a local coven. They would do some things to calm whatever is there.”

My dad’s gaze fell on her and his look wasn’t friendly. “Pagan rituals?”

I pointed at myself, “Heathen.”

“That’s not how I raised you.”

I gave him a squinted gaze as if to remind him of his constant absence from my life. He worked a lot, bouncing from job to job when we were growing up, and then would come home to spend time in the garage, or watching TV. He had never been the doting father of TV dramas. We’d gone to church some Sundays, but mostly only on holidays. Once we’d hit our teens, we hadn’t even done that. The preaching of fire and brimstone rained down on us from anall-lovinggod, had taught me to recognize hypocrisy at a young age. Any spirituality I had was internal, not drafted by old men seeking to rule the masses.

“Probably best to do a cleanse first,” I added. “Lots of non-Christian religions here in New Orleans,” I mimicked the accent with a heavy Cajun lilt. “From Native American to Voodoo.”

My father stared at me, and I didn’t flinch from his gaze. It made me wonder how he would have reacted if he’d experienced all I had. He had never served in the military. Hadn’t watchedDeathhover over a battlefield strewn with body parts. Or watched fellow soldiers torn apart by something as mundane as gunfire. The shadows that stalked the corners of reality could be brushed away by a lot of people who’d never seen them. But I was also beginning to realize that one single event hadn’t changed me. Not like I had thought at first.

The attack in the deserts of Afghanistan hadn’t opened my eyes to anything other than my own denial. How many things had I written off in my life, explaining it away to make it easier to sleep at night? Too many to count. And now that I knew Lukas had caught the night noise on audio, I suspected he’d found a lot of video evidence in the past, I wondered how much he had explained away. Maybe all of this wasn’t me being different, as much as my entire family having some sort of ability?

“This isn’t the first time you’ve heard or seen something you can’t explain, is it?” I asked my father, expecting instant denial.

But he was silent. Nope, not the first time.

I sighed. “Thanks for the curse. Is the attic clear?” I needed to be done and away from this house and the secrets of my family.

“It is,” my father agreed tightly.

“Good. We have some place to be.” I stripped off my gloves and mask, adding them to a new bag of stuff to be washed. “Lukas is supposed to check in tonight. I’m sure he’s got lots of answers for you. I’m off to meditate or some bullshit.” I expected him to protest, go into some long rant about family, as I’d heard a dozen times as a kid, but he said nothing. He did turn and head back inside, while I had no desire to ever see this house again. Whatever demons lurked in there, whether of Lukas’s making or not, I had no need to dig into them and open up my life to more of this. Lukas could keep his ghost game and secrets.

We cleaned up before going to the class. Sky had called ahead to make sure Dion was okay with us showing up. Both of them stared at me when I stepped out of the bathroom feeling amped up, ready for war, supernatural that it may have been. Maybe I should have gone for the Winchester vibe instead of the superhero one.

“You’re a princess,” Sky smiled.