A branch swung down, capturing me around the waist in a hard, unforgiving grip. It shouldn’t be able to do that. I wasn’t real! The simple fact didn’t seem to matter as it swept me off my feet and into the air. The rough bark cut into my skin, and I gave up trying to figure out how it was possible. All around me, the leaves rustled, and the wood creaked. A muffled laugh joined in, the sinister chuckle echoing through my head.
I was lifted high into the upper branches, any view of the ground obscured, then whipped about and slammed into the hard trunk. It stunned me, rattling my bones and jarring my spine. Another branch came at me, slinking around my ankles. More leaves shot forward, slapping me across the face. My skin split open, producing a dribble of warm liquid that meant I was bleeding. Amazed, I touched the wound. Sure enough, my fingers came away sticky and red.
Try all you want. You will never leave dis place.
The feminine voice slithered through my conscious, filling me with frigid cold. My bindings tightened, and I cried out in pain. Every single part of me hurt and, amidst all the agony, I realized it was the most sensation I felt since becoming a ghost. Here, being squeezed by a vindictive tree, I was more alive than I had been in days—apart from being in my body last night. All part of this nasty woman’s plan, I bet.
Something hard and unyielding snaked around my chest, then again, encircling my neck. Panic hit me full force as my air supply cut off. Even that shouldn’t have happened. I hadn’t drawn a real breath in weeks. Instead, my lungs cried out for release. As I fought, pulling and scratching at the heavy wood, my fingernails tore, and tears streamed down my cheeks.
You must learn your life is over. Your family is over. They will not hurt anyone again.
“H-how?” I intended to ask her how the Roberts hurt her, but speaking was impossible.
My only reply was her continuing laugher. The branches squeezed, tighter. I couldn’t move, the pain too great, as the agony of slow suffocation consumed me. Black dots filled my vision, and my head grew lighter and lighter. Could I die if I was nothing more than a spirit?
Then, from the darkness, I sensed another presence. The man.
Leave the girl alone, he ordered.
The spirit-infested tree hesitated. Suddenly, all the suffering and lack of air vanished as a blast of energy exploded around us. I heard the woman cry, and the tree’s grip loosened. Emptiness overwhelmed me, as well as the realization I was falling. I prepared for the bone shattering impact, but it never came. Just the slightest sensation of touching soft grass. A lingering trace of pressure remained on my chest, and I instinctively sucked in air. Jackson was at my side, helping me to my feet. Tenderly, I touched my cheek and startled when I felt a scab. I had already begun healing.
“Did that really happen?” he asked.
I saved you as a reminder not to listen to what everyone says. I do not want to harm you. Quite the contrary. Helping you is my only intention. We’ll talk again, Miss Roberts.
“Is someone there?” The question caused Jackson and me to flinch.
Spinning, I came face-to-face with Abby, her wide eyes filled with a mixture of fright and awe, staring at a spot past my shoulder. A large pack was slung over her shoulder, and I recognized it as the one we always brought on our paranormal investigations. Relief hit me hard, harder than the now silent tree did, and I rushed toward her.
Boone stood behind her, staring at the tree with a slack jaw. He wore a black t-shirt tonight, and part of a tattoo peeked from under the sleeve. My fingers itched to lift the material and see what it was. It looked like wings of some kind, maybe a skull. He caught my gaze, his eyes concerned behind his glasses, and pushed past Abby.
“The tree?”
His voice trembled in shock, but I got the gist of his question. “Yeah, it came alive. Ow.”
I flexed my neck, and he gaped at me.
“Jesus, how can it hurt you?” Even though the marks had almost faded, I imagined they were nasty.
“Is she okay?” Abby’s shrill tone interrupted us. “How did the tree move?”
“Quinn is fine. Well, her neck is all scratched up, like it tried to strangle her.” He fixed me with a dark glare. “Why didn’t you tell us it had gotten this bad?”
“It wasn’t, not really. I, uh, might have ticked her off.”
“Her? This Catherine person or something else? I’m lost.”
“Well, if you would have shown up sooner, I might have been able to fill you in,” I grumbled.
“Sorry if we had problems finding mention of anything remotely close to what’s happened to you.”
“Stop! Both of you. I can’t follow a one-sided conversation.” Abby’s shout drew a smirk from Boone. “She’s my best friend. Is there any way to include me, or am I destined to be a decoration?”
“I’m sure you know of a way,” I said sarcastically to Boone.
He considered this for a minute then reached into his messenger bag. He brought out a fancy digital recorder and a pair of headphones. Switching it on, he handed it to her.
“Listen to this as we talk. I’ve done it before, a live EVP session. Quinn is stronger than most ghosts, so you should hear her pretty well.” He glanced at the eerily quiet yard. “Can we go inside? We watched your doppelganger leave a while ago, so it should be all clear. But I’m not too keen on staying back here.”
“Big bad Boone Ravenwood is scared?” I teased as I followed him into the house.
Behind us, Abby giggled. “This is going to be fun.”
“Obviously that’s working,” Boone grumbled before stopping and staring. “Nice crib.”
“I’m glad you approve. So, what did you find out?”
He flopped down on the couch, putting his feet up on an antique apothecary coffee table. “Nothing.”
I waited expectantly, glancing between the two.
“He’s right,” Abby confirmed. “This is Invasion of the Body Snatchers territory. Science Fiction. All we found were mentions of possessions where the possessor is stronger and overpowers the body’s actual inhabitant, pushing them into the background. Pretty much as we expected.”
“You are one of a kind. Which means we’ll have to figure this out on our own. Lucky you found me when you did,” Boone said from the sofa.
“Really? You’re going to be that guy? Are you always such an ass?”
“I hope you’re more fun as a living person, otherwise I’m not sure this is worth the headache.”
“Play nice, you two,” Abby warned, but I noticed her trying not to laugh. “Let’s get back to the tree. Was it Catherine?”
I sighed, leaning against the fireplace mantel. “I doubt it. There’s something else here. Two somethings, actually. Supposedly, Catherine made a deal with an entity, a man. I’ve gotten that much. I think he gives Catherine the power to do what she does. But, of course, Catherine isn’t talking.” I took a breath, making a spontaneous decision to not tell them as much about him—not until I knew more about what he wanted. “Then, there’s the woman. She’s crazy, at least in my opinion. She wants to hurt me more than the man. He’s not violent. He’s been kind of helpful, definitely the more powerful of the two, the one with influence and answers.”
“Slow down,” Abby pleaded. “Just repeat that last bit, please. You keep fading in and out.”
I obliged, taking my time and grinning when she flashed me a thumbs up.
“Makes sense,” Boone interjected. “A normal ghost can’t do the things Catherine has done. This other spirit, the male one, might be connected to another plane, drawing the power from it and channeling it into Catherine. The million dollar question is why?”
“Which is what we have to find out,” Abby said.
“Double the fun,” Boone joked. “What ticked it off and turned the tree homicidal?”
“That was the female spirit. I don’t know if she cares, and maybe it’s unrelated, but...” I glanced at Boone, uneasy because I figured he’d think I was stupid. “Last night I tried to get my body back. I kind of put myself in a position that matched Catherine’s sleeping form. It worked, for a few seconds, but I got pushed out pretty quickly.”
“Rookie move.” Point proven.
“At least I tried. I’m sick of sitting around and letting my life pass me by. And I’m going to try again, tomorrow night.”
Boone groaned as Abby asked, “What happens tomorrow?”
“There’s a wrap party Jason is taking Catherine to. She’ll be distracted, mingling and trying to impress. It’s the perfect opportunity.”
“I really can’t picture you and Mr. Movie Star together.”
I spun on Boone. “Did I ask your opinion?”
“No, but maybe you should.”
“What does this have to do with anything?” I growled.
“It tells me a lot about your intentions, what motivates you.”
“Do you really think you can do it?”
I sent Abby a grateful smile for interrupting us, trying to shake off Boone’s remark, then remembered she couldn’t see it.
“I have to try, and since you guys didn’t find much else, what do I have to lose?”
“Um, everything?” Abby tossed out.
“Yeah, what she says.” Boone stood and stalked over to me. “Look, I’m not saying it’s the worst idea in the history of man, but you need to be careful. Don’t forget about this.”
He reached out and grazed my neck, where the welts from the tree branch continued to throb. Sure, his finger passed through me, but I felt it, and a spark of electricity jolted through me.
Instead of lingering on how pleasant it was, I said, “Hands to yourself, bucko.”
“Fine.” Boone spread his palms in front of him. “About this party. You’re not going alone. I’ll be there in case this wacko tries to hurt you.”
“With a camera, right?”
“I’m hurt, I really am. I went against my instincts and promised. I won’t use any of this for Ravenwood Hauntings.”
“I’m going, too.”
“No,” I said to Abby.
“Casper’s right. This Catherine person will recognize you. If she sees you, her guard will go up. She doesn’t know me. It’s a date,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows and flashing the dimple.
“Casper?” I glared at him. “Casper was a boy.”
He ignored me, pacing past Abby, gazing around the living room and foyer. “There’s darkness in this house, death and sadness. I can feel the history, a living breathing force. God, I’d love to live here.”
Some of my animosity toward him softened. It was exactly what I experienced. Anyone who understood the joy of living with such rich history couldn’t be all bad.
Loud grunts captured my attention, and I turned to Abby, who had a pencil inside her cast, digging for an out of reach itch. A smile formed on my lips. Having her near made everything right.
Abby paused and smirked in my general direction. “Hey, Quinn, what ya gonna wear to the party?”
“You’re not funny,” I drawled. “I’d literally kill for a new outfit right now. I’ve been in the same jeans and tank top since the night at the cemetery. It’s getting old.”
Boone looked me up and down. “It’s a good thing ghosts don’t smell. I bet you’re pretty rank.”
“Ha ha.” But I couldn’t stop the smile from stretching my lips. Once I had my body back, I planned on spending hours in the shower, scrubbing the Catherine stink away.
Abby and Boone left, wanting to avoid Catherine when she returned from wherever she disappeared to. Once they were gone, I wandered through the house. Even knowing Jackson and George were somewhere, the place felt too empty.