Saige’s entire body had gone rigid. She sat on the edge of her bed, her eyes tracing the patterns in the carpet. Icy tension crept up her arms.
Did I just free Theodosia’s spirt?
Is she more powerful?
The window is broken. Now she’s… in the house.
It took her a moment to realise that Jasper had bent down in front of her, her fingers snugly gripped in his. His face was frightfully ashen against his dark curls. A sheen of sweat licked his hairline.
She showed him the texts from Harriette.
The reckless half of her brain laughed. “I screwed up, didn’t I?”
Jasper dropped his head. His voice was so soft, it was almost a whisper. “Saige, have you considered that maybe there is no way to end this curse? Sometimes, things are beyond our control, and we have to learn to live with that. What’s happening in this house… it’s beyond our understanding.”
She flinched. “Pay the sins of the father. That’s what I have to do.”
“And we don’t even know what that means.”
Disappointment flooded her. She waited for the ache in her chest to abate. “So we just give up? What about Zoe? We let the curse take her?”
“She’s not married to Xav. If Dr Ahmadi can keep her comfortable, maybe she’ll recover, and we can all leave this place together when the storm ends.”
She tipped her chin up to look at him. Really look at him. “You don’t believe that.”
“I believe in doing what’s best for everyone. Too many people have been hurt. Harriette is dead. Mildred is in hospital. We’ve intervened too many times. Theodosia is probably coming for us next.”
Saige looked at the door. She imagined the handle slowly twisting around, a shadow looming through the crack beneath the entry.
Theodosia could be just beyond the door.
She shivered and looked away.
Jasper tilted his head to study her. “So we’re in agreement. We stay out of it. No more looking for trouble? No more ghost encounters?”
She pulled her hands free from his and wiped away the tear that streaked down her cheek. “I bet you really regret asking my brother if you could sing at his wedding, don’t you?”
He stilled.
Saige knew this wasn’t the appropriate time, but with Jasper locked in her room and too afraid to leave, this might have been the only opportunity for answers. She failed at keeping her voice calm. “Xav told me the truth. Why did you really come to the island, Jasper? It wasn’t to sing.”
He drew away. His stride was fast as he crossed to the other side of the room. He leaned a shoulder on the wall and faced her but didn’t say anything.
Saige’s pulse beat into a crescendo in her temples. “Are you running away again? Because if you are, you need to do the right thing by your girlfriend and end things properly.”
A small smile latched on to his mouth. “So Xav told you that, too, did he?”
“Will you do the right thing… for once?”
“I already have.”
“You did?”
“Don’t look so surprised. I am capable of learning from my mistakes.”
“Right… well, good. Well… I mean not good for her, obviously.”
She might have a broken heart now, but at least she’ll never be left wondering why.
The muscles in Jasper’s neck tightened. “If anything, I think she was relieved. We weren’t a good match.”
“Just like you and I weren’t.”
Saige immediately regretted saying it. She sensed Jasper’s mood darken a shade.
He set his eyes straight ahead, staring at the small clock on the duchess. “We weren’t?”
“Of course we weren’t. You left, remember?”
Without even giving me the courtesy of explaining why.
Maybe it was the heightened fear, the stress of the last several days, or years of built-up resentment, but Saige really wanted an answer. Now.
Don’t do it. It won’t make a difference anymore.
She bit her lip, determined to keep the question inside, but the urge to know was too powerful. “Why did you end things between us?”
The air in the room felt thick and suffocating. Awkward tension sizzled between them. Saige wondered if it outweighed even the intensity of the storm outside.
Jasper’s sigh was a tense, tired sound. “I rushed into things with you. I’m sorry if it causes you pain to hear it, but that’s the truth. I wasn’t ready to get married… and instead of finding the courage to tell you, I chose to be a coward.” He raked his fingers down his face. “I should never have asked you to marry me. I’m sorry.”
She’d wanted answers, but not pain and humiliation all over again. She wished she could drown all her feelings when it came to Jasper. She despised herself for still loving him, for still hoping there might have been a chance. But most of all, she hated the absolute lonely emptiness that haunted her day and night.
And the presence.
She loathed that icy feeling that something was near, always enjoying her misery. Never letting her escape from it.
Saige dug her nails into her palms. She wanted to hide her face in a pillow, cocoon herself in bedsheets, and never see the world again.
Her life with Jasper had been a fairy tale, only she didn’t get the happily ever after.
Damn you, Disney. You have a lot to answer for.
Something inside her gave an unpleasant twitch when she realised Jasper was staring.
The tightness in his face softened. “Saige, I came to the island for—”
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The pounding on the door startled them both. Saige leapt up from the bed. From the corner of her eye, she saw Jasper stiffen.
The door handle moved, making a whiny, creaky noise.
I did lock it, didn’t I?
The handle turned the opposite direction, then back again, rattling faster and louder. Someone was determined to get inside.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The pounding echoed across Saige’s bedroom.
It sounded like someone stood on the other side of the door with a baseball bat.
Jasper gave Saige an anxious glance, his eyes communicating one thought.
Theodosia.
Saige couldn’t think. Couldn’t move.
She’s here to end us.
Another pounding.
“Saige,” a voice called. “Are you in there?”
The tension inside her crumbled apart. “Dad?”
“Yes. Why do you have the door locked?”
Jasper legged it to the bathroom with the speed of an athlete.
Saige rolled her eyes.
It’s like high school all over again.
She slid the latch and opened the door. Derrick Wolvercraft stood in the hallway with a candle, the flame casting harsh shadows across the hard lines in his face. He looked like he’d aged five years in the last several days.
He stepped inside, his eyes keenly sweeping around the room. “Who were you talking to?”
“Myself. It’s a bad habit.”
His lips set in a grim line. “Your mother used to talk to herself too.”
“Talking to yourself is completely normal. Therapeutic, even.”
Please stop trying to pinpoint everything on my fragile mental state.
Derrick stopped examining her room and faced her. “Private counselling sessions or not, don’t lock your door. What if there was a house fire and we couldn’t get you out?”
“I’m sure the rain would put out a fire.”
He grunted, seeming not to appreciate his daughter’s snide comment. “You know what I mean.”
“Yes, okay. I get it. I won’t lock the door.”
She crossed her fingers behind her back.
Derrick breathed in deeply, his nostrils flaring. “Miraculously, somehow Zoe has managed to get out of bed and is wandering the house. She’s in some sort of delirious, sleepwalking state. Dr Ahmadi is stumped by her behaviour. Xav and I are searching for her now. I just wanted you to know in case she comes knocking on your door.”
A tide of fear crushed over Saige. “I should help.”
“No. It’s far too dangerous. One of the windows downstairs has smashed in this storm. Stay in your room. Better still, I think I’ll go get Aunt Prue to stay with you.”
He started to walk away, but Saige stopped him. “Don’t disturb Aunt Prue. It’s late, and she’s had an awful day. I’ll be fine.”
She tried her best to look… normal, like a sane person.
If that even exists.
Her father’s shoulders drooped. “Fine, Saige. I’m not going to argue with you. Just keep your door unlocked.”
She waited until he disappeared down the hall before she firmly shut the door and locked it.
Jasper poked his head out of the bathroom. “Is it safe?”
Saige’s hand remained on the handle, knuckles bulged white from tension. “Did you hear what my dad said? Zoe is wandering around the house again.”
“She’s possessed. It’s not Zoe.”
“I know that. It’s Theodosia.”
It’s my fault.
Jasper sat down, the lines on his forehead creased in a frown. “All the more reason we need to remain here. Harriette’s spooky text message didn’t warn us to stay here for no reason.” His eyes flashed with exhaustion. “I’m tired. I’m sleeping on this very uncomfortable excuse for a sofa lounge.”
“It’s a chaise lounge. It’s designed for sitting.”
“That explains why it’s so uncomfortable.”
She watched him settle onto the furniture piece. He wrapped the blanket from the previous night around his body. “Night, Saige. Get some sleep.”
Get some sleep. Sure. There’s a possessed lunatic running around the house.
Saige crawled into bed and closed her eyes. Exhaustion clouded her mind, her head heavy and spinning. “Jasper?”
“What?”
“Wouldn’t you prefer to sleep in your own bed?”
The room was silent.
Jasper’s voice sounded strained. “I’m not leaving you, Saige. Not this time. Not ever.”
Her thoughts slid deeper into her sleepy subconscious. She couldn’t be certain if Jasper spoke the words or if she imagined them.
* * *
Saige stood in the hall just beyond the doors that opened to the ballroom. She was jittery. Anticipation boiled inside her. She dared a glimpse in the mirror, amazed how her pale skin now looked creamy and flawless, her make-up natural and to perfection. She swept her hands down the waist of her dress, smoothing out any imaginary creases. Her wedding gown was a simple white satin garment with ivory lace and pearl beading. It was comfortable and fit snugly. Happiness flowed through every vein in Saige’s body.
Definitely the right choice.
The only thing that was wrong were the tight nerves in her stomach.
It’s excitement, Saige. Nervous excitement.
But there was something else not right.
She examined the hallway. Colours didn’t seem quite natural, like she was viewing everything through an artist’s impression. There was something else, too, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.
One of her bridesmaids handed Saige a bouquet, a beautiful display of white roses and peonies. Saige raised the flowers to her nose to inhale their scent. She smelt nothing.
That’s strange.
She shook her head.
Excitement, Saige. It’s excitement playing with your senses.
Someone tapped her on the shoulder.
She turned around to find her bridesmaid beaming at her. “Are you ready? There’s no turning back now.”
Saige smiled, but the corners of her lips dropped. She didn’t recognise the woman.
I must know her somehow. She’s my maid of honour.
But Saige couldn’t be certain that was the case.
How do I know her again?
She watched the woman join the other bridesmaids in the wedding procession. The trains of their crimson dresses trailed behind them like a blood-red river as they walked down the aisle.
“Saige?”
Her father appeared. Tears welled in Derrick’s eyes. “You look beautiful, my darling.”
“Thank you.”
There was more she wanted to say, but she couldn’t find the words.
He offered her his arm. “Are you ready?”
“Yes. More than ever.”
Saige and her father stepped through the grand doors into the manor’s impressive ballroom. Bowers of ivy, white flowers, and candles decorated the aisle runner. The guests were seated on either side, watching the bride with cheerful expressions. She saw her brother and Zoe wave at her. Zoe blew her a kiss, which Saige pretended to catch. Aunt Prue had delighted tears running down her cheeks. Aunt Violet was sobbing. She blew loudly into a handkerchief.
Saige swept her eyes over the guests again. She didn’t recognise any of them.
Why are they smiling like that?
Their expressions were stiff and unnatural, and something about their faces almost appeared… waxy.
Saige blinked.
Just nerves.
She was too contented to give it much more thought.
It’s my wedding day.
Walking down the aisle stretched into one long happy blur, but as the seconds ticked by, Saige had trouble holding her smile together.
This is taking a long time.
She looked ahead.
The aisle didn’t end. It went on and on.
Her joyful mood evaporated. “Dad?”
She tugged on her father’s arm, but when she looked up, it wasn’t his eyes she was greeted with.
It was her mother’s.
Elaine Wolvercraft’s pale lips pulled too far back, revealing all the crushed bones in her jaw. She set her cold, dead hand on Saige’s cheek. “My sweet baby girl. All grown up.”
Panic swelled inside Saige. It started in her stomach, traversing all the way into her throat. She couldn’t breathe. The air shook out from her lungs, but oxygen refused to come back in. She pulled her arm away and stumbled backward.
Her mother’s smile faded. “What’s wrong, sweetie? Don’t you want to get married?”
This isn’t real. This isn’t real!
She glanced at the wedding guests. All their heads lolled at the same time, as though attached to their shoulders by broken necks.
Oh my God! They’re dead!
“Saige, my darling?” Her mother offered her arm again. “Don’t be afraid.”
Saige bolted down the aisle back the way she came. But this end of the aisle didn’t finish either. It stretched ahead, never ending. From the corner of her eye, she saw the flowers and bowers of ivory bleed, their petals wilting. Blood flowed in rivers between the chairs, the white runner beneath Saige’s feet soaked red.
Her mother’s voice called to her. “My darling, you’re going the wrong way.”
Saige couldn’t outrun the lingering chill that crept over her body. Her beautiful dress, which had moulded perfectly to her body before, was now tight and constrictive. It was suffocating her. Saige had an image of herself squeezed into an airtight bag.
The gown… it’s possessed!
It’s going to kill me.
She tripped on the long skirt and tumbled forward.
Saige screamed.
There was no floor to catch her.
She plunged into darkness. Wind lashed at her face, tearing her hair out of its beautiful braid.
Something latched on to her arm, spinning her upright. The force jolted her out of the nightmare.
Saige woke up. Freezing-cold rain pelted her body, the icy water streaming down her back and shoulders. Lightning ripped through the sky, illuminating the manor’s limestone façade. It was met with an earth-shattering thunderclap that made her cry out again.
I’m outside?
Outside the manor!
Her teeth sank into her tongue as the hand that latched around her arm heaved, trying to pull her up. A twist of shock zapped through Saige at the realisation that there was nothing beneath her. Her feet kicked wildly through air. She looked down and wished she hadn’t. The ground was a long way below, the fog rising like an ethereal sea to drown her.
She peered up. The person holding her ducked his head. She got a good look at him for the first time. “Jasper?”
His lips pressed tight together as he strained to pull her up.
She saw beyond him, recognising the steeply pitched roof that pierced the sky like a needle.
Oh my God! I’m hanging off the tower!