Page 11 of The Unseen

R ACHEL CHECKED THE DOORS AND WINDOWS, THEN CROSSED THE parlor to the hall. Sean had stopped by, around nine, to check on her. They’d shared homemade chocolate chip cookies and milk before he’d gone home to bed. He was such a sweet boy.

Yawning, Rachel climbed the sweeping staircase to the second floor and made her way down the corridor to her bedroom. She locked the door and stripped off the loose-fitting jeans and T-shirt she had been wearing as she watched Ramon working in the garden.

After he’d finished, she’d felt rested enough to spend some time working in the Villard/Belmond family cemetery, determined not to let the weeds grow over the gravestones.

The day had been cooler than expected, with the possibility of a storm.

As she prepared for bed and plaited her long black hair into a single thick braid, she could hear the first patter of rain on the windows.

She’d be glad when Nicole got home. She always worried when her niece was on the road late at night.

Too tired to read, she turned off the lamp next to the bed and curled into her pillow. The wind was just beginning to rattle the branches of the trees against the windowpanes. The faint hoot of an owl was the last thing she remembered as she drifted off to sleep.

She awakened to the last chimes of the clock at midnight. The wind had abated. There was only deep quiet outside. The house had fallen equally silent. When the clock on the mantel stopped ticking, she glanced toward the window, but saw only empty darkness.

Something stirred in the air and a shiver ran down her spine.

She turned her head as a sound in the hallway caught her attention.

Footsteps, she realized, coming toward her bedroom door.

Her heart rate accelerated. She wanted to call out to whoever was there, but instead she remained silent, her instincts warning her to beware.

In the darkness, she heard the door of the armoire creak open, then slowly swing closed. She tilted her head, listening, listening. Something was there. She knew it and a tremor of fear snaked through her.

Lying beneath the satin canopy, she clutched the bedcovers with trembling hands. Around her, the darkness seemed to thicken, to throb with a disturbing rhythm that matched the increasingly frantic beating of her heart.

An invisible something moved in the shadows, stirring the air, shifting it across the bed. She thought she heard footsteps moving toward her in the darkness, heavy, the kind that could only belong to a man.

Her breath caught as the mattress dipped beneath his weight, and she could feel him beside her. She knew who it was, remembered the feel of his body on top of her, moving inside her.

I need you, he said inside her mind, and she felt the brush of his lips against the side of her neck.

Her eyes slid closed at the gentle touch. She was dreaming again. Dreaming of the man who had taken her before.

“Who … are you?” she asked into the darkness. “Why are you here?”

Why did you do it?

Her eyebrows pulled into a frown. “I don’t understand. I didn’t do anything.”

Don’t lie to me!

She’d angered him, she realized, just as she had before.

I’ll make you pay for your betrayal!

Stark fear rose inside her. She tried to open her mouth, tried to speak, but her lips were frozen.

She tried to move, but as before, her limbs were completely immobile.

The covers lifted and flew across the room to hit the wall and land on the floor.

Her nightgown lifted over her head and disappeared, and the fear inside her swelled.

Fear and something more.

She felt his hands on her body, rough at first, then slowly turning gentle, sliding over her skin, touching her breasts, brushing over her nipples with exquisite care.

You want me. Say it!

You’re wrong. The words formed in her mind, but she couldn’t force her lips to move. I don’t want you to touch me! But as his mouth covered her breast and he began to suckle, heat speared into her core, and her breasts turned achy. Moisture gathered between her legs.

Tell me! Say it!

She tried to shake her head, but her body wouldn’t obey.

When she made no reply, he turned her over, lifted her, and she could feel him behind her, feel his arousal, feel him stroking her, then sliding deep inside.

His body was solid and all lean muscle and he felt wonderful everywhere he touched her.

It was impossible, and yet her body was responding with abandon, with a powerful rush of hunger unlike anything she had known.

She felt him thrusting deep, felt a heated rush of desire.

She made a sound of distress in her mind and his touch gentled as if he read her thoughts, understood exactly what she needed.

The pleasure built, scorching through her, so hot and sweet her eyes welled with tears.

It’s only a dream! she silently shouted, the last of her fear fading away as her need continued to build. He knew just how to touch her, how to please her. Her body clenched, and the ecstasy of climax broke over her like a wave. Her eyes were wet, but they were tears of joy.

She knew when he reached fulfillment, felt it in the tightening of the body she couldn’t see. Felt him as he moved to lie beside her, pulled her against him so they were lying spoon fashion on the bed. It was impossible and yet she could feel him all around her.

He moved in the darkness and suddenly her braid came undone. Unseen fingers spread her hair gently around her shoulders.

You aren’t her. In her mind, she could hear the regret in his voice.

No, she said. I’m not her.

I’m sorry I hurt you. I thought you were her.

Who are you?

I’m sorry, he said again. But I know you wanted me and I’m glad because I wanted you so much .

She caught a glimpse of him, just a hazy, ghostly image moving away from her. Then he turned toward her, and she saw his eyes, a brilliant, mesmerizing shade of blue. He moved closer. She felt the brush of his lips over her hair.

And then he was gone.

Her muscles relaxed and she sagged on the bed, her body once more her own. She wanted to call him back, admit to him that he hadn’t hurt her. And though she had feared him in the beginning, he had brought her incredible pleasure.

It was impossible, and yet it was true.

She sank deeper into the mattress, remembering the sadness in his voice, certain he would never return. She reminded herself it was only a dream, and then she started to weep.

She didn’t have much time left in this life. Little time for happiness. Perhaps she could discover a way to summon the dream again.

If she managed to work up her courage, perhaps she would try.

“Hey, Sean, wake up!”

It was Sunday night and he was back at the center. Sean felt someone shaking his shoulder and managed to pry open his eyes.

“Wake up, dude! You gotta come with us.”

Sean yawned behind his hand and swung his legs to the side of the bed.

He was lucky enough to have a room of his own, which you got when one became available and you’d been there long enough to qualify—and had been smart enough to follow the rules.

It hadn’t taken him long to figure out the benefits of behaving himself.

He rubbed his face and stared up at his best friend. Monty was sandy-haired and very tall, taller even than Sean. “Are you crazy? It’s after lights-out. I’m not going anywhere.”

Tim Richards was also there, along with Tim’s friend Curtis Osborne.

“Come on, Sean!” Monty prodded. “Get your clothes on. He’s gonna be gone before we can follow him.”

“What are you talking about? We can’t leave. If they catch us, we’ll all get thrown in juvie.”

“We aren’t gonna get caught,” Tim argued, a little guy with more balls than brains. “Come on, man. Monty’s brother is picking us up down the block. He’s gonna drive.”

“I’ve already had enough trouble,” Sean said. “Whatever you’re gonna do, count me out.”

Monty gripped his shoulder. “Listen, dude, Curtis overheard Coach on the phone. He’s going out to some haunted house in Denham Springs. He’s gonna help them get rid of a ghost.”

“You know he does that stuff, right?” Tim added.

“I guess so.” Sean had heard the rumors. Everyone knew he’d been a priest. But getting busted for leaving the center meant ending up in juvenile detention. He had caused his sister enough trouble already. “You guys go on. I’m staying here.”

“Chicken,” Tim grumbled.

“Loser,” Curtis added, shoving Tim toward the door.

But if Sean didn’t go, his friends would probably come to their senses and stay where they belonged.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Sean said as the three boys stumbled out of his dorm room.

On the other hand, if the guys actually drove out to the haunted house, he might get to hear one heckuva story.

Lucas pulled up in a cul-de-sac at the end of the road in front of a double-wide trailer, his headlights illuminating the front porch. After the half-hour drive to Denham Springs, it was almost eleven p.m.

The screen door swung open as he turned off the engine, climbed out of the Jeep, and started across the front lawn, which badly needed mowing. Grass grew between the cracks in the walkway leading up to the house.

“Thank you so much for coming, Father Luke.”

He was used to the name, though he rarely heard it these days.

He just nodded. Darla Robinson, the owner of the house, stepped back so he could walk in.

She was a tall, bone-thin African-American woman with dark skin and very close-cropped black hair, a single mom whose teenage son had once been a student at the center.

The kid had straightened out his life, started getting good grades, and won a basketball scholarship to Louisiana State.

“How’s Jaden?” Lucas asked as Darla led him into the living room.

“Boy’s stayin’ out of trouble, if that’s what you mean.”

Lucas smiled. “That’s not what I meant, but I’m glad to hear it.”

They sat down on an overstuffed plush brown sofa and chairs. Brown shag carpet covered the floors, and a stack of magazines sat on the coffee table, a copy of People on top.

“Can I get you a cup of coffee or maybe a soda?” Darla asked.

“I’m fine, thanks. When you called, you said you were having problems in the house. You said weird things were happening, some of them very scary.”

“Jaden told me about you. He said that when you was a priest you could get rid of evil spirits. Said you can still do it.”

How the damnable story ever got out, he had no idea, but he couldn’t deny it was true.

“When I was in the Church, I worked with a priest who did exorcisms. As I was learning the rituals from him, I discovered I had an ability most men don’t have.

It doesn’t mean I’ll be able to help you. First I need to know what’s going on.”

Seated on the couch, Darla leaned toward where he sat in one of the overstuffed chairs.

“It’s been goin’ on for a while now, ever since Jaden moved out.

I think it was happenin’ before, but I was too busy trying to raise my boy to pay attention.

His friends were here, people all around. It’s different now I’m alone.”

“So things are happening. What kind of things?”

“They come at night. When I’m in bed, I hear noises. Men talkin’ and walkin’ around outside, but when I look, there’s no one there. Sometimes I hear these loud bangs out behind the house, down by the river.”

“Okay. Anything else?”

“Oh, yeah, sure is. A couple of times, I woke up and there was a man at the foot of my bed. Well, not exactly a man. He was hazy and sort of floating, but I could see his clothes was torn and ragged and there was blood all over him. Another time, I saw a man’s face with a hole where one of his eyes shoulda been.

I let out a scream loud enough to bring down the house, I can tell you.

That’s when the face disappeared.” Darla made the sign of the cross over her heart. “I swear I’m not making this up.”

Lucas nodded. “I believe you. You can’t imagine some of the strange things I’ve seen.”

“I want them gone, Father Luke. Please say you’ll help me.”

“Have any of the spirits been aggressive toward you? Have they attacked you, pushed you, threatened you in any way?”

“They haven’t hurt me, but they sure as all hell …” She stopped herself. “Sorry, Father, but they sure do scare the bejesus out of me.”

He felt the pull of a smile. “I’m sure they do.

From what you’re telling me, I don’t think what’s happening here is the kind of evil I’m able to deal with—and that’s a good thing.

They sound like your everyday ghosts, spirits who somehow got trapped here on earth.

If they are, they need help getting where they’re supposed to be.

Let me do some research, see if I can find out what might have happened that would cause them to get stuck here. ”

“Can you get them to leave?”

“I’m afraid that isn’t what I do, but I know someone who might be able to help.”

“I surely would appreciate anything you could do.”

Lucas nodded as he rose from the chair. There was nothing he could do tonight. He figured just showing up would give Darla some comfort.

“I’ll do some work on this. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can—I promise. In the meantime, just remember, most ghosts are harmless.”

Darla ran a thin hand over her short, curly hair. “Okay, I’ll do my best to remember. But when one of ’em’s standing at the foot of your bed, it ain’t that easy to do.”

Lucas laughed. “No, I don’t suppose it is.”

Darla walked him to the door and waited while he climbed into the Jeep and fired the engine. He needed to do some digging. Look into the history of the area, see what might have happened that could explain events in the house.

He didn’t have the ability to communicate with spirits, but he knew someone who did. With luck, his grandmother would be able to help Darla, as well as the ghosts who needed to find their way home.