Page 22 of Stronger Than Blood

Chapter twenty

Mick

Madam sighed. “You need to tell me the whole story, and Rory, you need to go get cleaned up. I’m guessing the surprise your uncle had for you will have to wait. If you’re being hunted, like you said, we better get to the bottom of this first.”

Rory hesitated. I knew he wanted to hear the whole story, and I had told him most of it, but…

maybe not all. Mostly because after the incident when he touched me and all the memories came flooding back, I wanted to avoid all of that.

Of course, now that I thought about it, I wondered if maybe that’s what released him.

Maybe Rory was allowing his spirit to seep out of the house where he’d been confined until now.

Luckily, Rory left before I could confront him with that theory. Madam Bellamy made me a cup of coffee with the fancy hotel machine, fixing it how I liked. Despite the heat and humidity, my hands were still cold from earlier, so I let the heat warm them.

“I-I was sitting in my grandmother’s lap when she was shot…

” I began and spent well over half an hour telling her in detail what’d happened with Preston Garrison, the nightmares that started after that, and then the haunting when I returned to the house.

I told her more than I’d ever told anyone.

I was afraid people would think I was crazy.

Hell, the school counselor had wanted to put me in a hospital and get the proper medications and would’ve if Granny Ida hadn’t intervened.

But after the incident with Rory, then feeling the monster in my apartment that morning, I felt that if there was any chance this woman could help me, I needed to put it all on the table.

“When did your great-grandmother go into the hospital?” she asked.

“Two weeks ago today, actually,” I said.

She nodded. “And she’s the one who shot him, the one who saved you?”

The tears slipped out again. “Yes, she’s the one who saved me… and all of us.”

Madam Bellamy took a deep breath then stood up as she released it.

She went to the refrigerator, pulling out a bottle of water.

“Here, you should drink this,” she said.

“I can feel your exhaustion, and part of that is dehydration. You will have to do a better job taking care of yourself if you wish to keep this monster at bay.”

She took my almost full coffee to the sink and poured it out, then tossed the cup before coming back to sit across from me. I knew internally that it was to give me some time.

“This… we’ll just call him an entity because it's important to keep your emotions under control when you’re around him or speaking of him.

This entity has been drawing power from your fear since that day.

Of course, that’s no different from when he was alive.

I can feel his hunger to scare people, to scare you in particular.

Your great-grandmother was likely the only thing keeping him contained, and now that she’s moved out of the house—”

“He’s able to come after me.”

“Yes and no. The dead don’t have that much power over the living.

The truth is, they are misplaced. Our dimension isn’t meant for them, and the longer they stay in it, the weaker they become unless they are able to cause the living to react to them…

give them energy. In your case, your fear feeds the entity.

But your great-grandmother’s will weakened it. ”

“Someone told me once that he’s a demon,” I said, and she nodded.

“What we call demons are often just nasty spirits. Although, there’s something about those who can draw more negative energy to them. But I can feel this entity coming off you, and I don’t think he’s reached that level… at least not yet.”

“Can you help me?” I asked.

She studied me then and nodded. “I can offer you support and suggestions. I can even be physically there when you confront the entity, which, yes, you’ll have to do if you ever hope to have peace. But I can’t do the work for you… I can’t face your fears for you either.”

My stomach tied in knots. “I’ll have to face him?”

She nodded. “Sooner or later, yes. But I would also like to speak with your great-grandmother. She may also be able to offer some insights into how to make that confrontation easier.”

I thought about it. Granny was miserable right now, and the thought of me bringing a stranger in when she was fit to be tied would probably not be a great idea. “Um, well,” I mumbled. “She’s not going to be very graciously accepting of visitors at the moment.”

Madam laughed. “Oh, I’m sure. If she’s been displaced from her home, especially as powerful as she sounds, I’m sure that’s true. However, we need as much information as we can get if we hope to overcome this entity.”

“I’ll call her, but can we go eat lunch first? My stomach is growling, and I could use a little something to calm it.”

She smiled and patted my hand. “Call your great-grandmother and see if she’d be willing to meet us this afternoon. Tell her we’ll sneak her in some of that incredible cobbler your cousin makes. That stuff is so good it should be illegal.”

I laughed for the first time since I began spilling my story. “It is good, and I’ll call her now.”

Of course, I should’ve known Granny Ida would say she’d love to have a distraction. When I told her the woman was a psychic, ’cause throwing surprises at Granny was never a good idea, she hummed, “That’s probably a good person to get involved. Probably should’ve done that ages ago.”

“So you aren’t mad?”

“Mad? Lord, no, son. If someone can help us get that… that thing out of our lives for good and make it so you can move into your home, then I’m all for it.”

“Okay, we’re going to go eat at Brenda’s. Oh, and Madam Bellamy said we needed to sneak you in some cobbler. I think that was some mystical direction, so you know we got to obey.”

Granny laughed. “You bring me two helpings; the food over here is like eating mush. Oh, and I want peach. I know Brenda thinks her blackberry is the best thing since sliced bread, but between you and me, it’d be better if she didn’t strain out all the seeds.

Just ain’t proper to eat blackberry cobbler without the crunchy bites. ”

I chuckled. “Yes’m. Peach cobbler it is.”

Rory joined us shortly after, dressed nicer than I’d seen him in a while.

With Madam Bellamy’s beautiful outfit and perfectly manicured nails and Rory looking like some model fresh off the runway, I felt doughy and ugly.

Oh well, it wasn’t about me winning any prizes for looks; I’d been driven from my home before I could get adequate sleep or even take the time to brush my teeth.

At this point, I was lucky to have put on clean underwear, so I’d just go and hold my hillbilly head high.