Angel Manor (Lucifer Falls Book 1) (17 page)

“Are you okay?” Bam’s voice sounded drowsy.

“No, I’m not. This place is making me sick.”

“You just need some more sleep, and you’ll be fine.”

“I’m not kidding, Bam. I need to get out of here. I want to go back home. This place is making me sick.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m feeling ill too. We probably just have a virus or something. But we can sleep it off, feel better in the morning.”

“No.” Freya struggled to get to her feet and staggered towards the small sink. She twisted the silver tap and let the water flow. Cool, clear water streamed between her fingers, and she brought her face to the current, rinsing the rancid substance from her mouth. “No, I can’t stay here. I need to go. You should come with me. You can’t fly if you’re sick, so you might as well stay home with me.”

“That place is not my home, Frey.” Bam put her hands on her hips, and her eyes flashed with anger. “If I can’t fly, I’ll stay here until I feel better. I’m not going back to Angel Manor. And neither should you. Especially not in the state you’re in.” She pointed at Freya. “Look at you. You were just throwing up, and now you want to drive five and a half hours in the dark to get back to that hell house?”

Freya turned to inspect herself in the mirror. Her face was as white as a ghost’s, thick dark circles framed her eyes, and her mouth looked like nothing more than a dark gash in her flesh. Her chin was wet with the water she’d gargled with, and her eyes looked wild and filled with pain. Something pulled at her, some unseen, unknown force. She couldn’t explain it, but she felt she had to go back to the house. It was as if her life depended on it.

“I’m going. I’m sorry, but I can’t stay here.” She pleaded with her eyes, but her friend crossed her arms. “Please come with me.”

“No, I’m staying, and I’m getting a ticket to Los Angeles.”

“Your mobile should work here. I’ll call you tomorrow from Portree or something, okay?” Freya moved her head so she could rub her hand across the back of her neck. She opened her mouth again, planning to say something else… anything… to convince her friend to join her, but then she changed her mind. Bam looked at her with round eyes, sucking in her bottom lip.

“You’re really doing this?”

“Yes.”

“You’re going?”

“I’ll try and call you later today, okay? I want to know what time your flight goes.” Freya opened her arms to hug her friend, but Bam shied away. She fought the tears that were threatening to spill, got up, and walked to the door. “Do you have enough money?”

“Got my credit card. I’ll be fine.” Bam didn’t look her in the eyes when she spoke. “I’m going to phone my mom in the morning, let her know I’m coming.”

“Give your mum my love.” She opened her arms to hug Bam, but her friend took a step back. “Don’t be like that, Bam. Let’s not leave like this. I love you, you know that?”

Bam raised an eyebrow and seemed to mull the words over in her head, then she nodded and stepped forward, arms wide. They embraced in a tight hug that was a little painful, but heartfelt nonetheless.

“Drive safely.” Bam’s voice trembled.

“I will. You be safe too, okay? Don’t do anything crazy.”

“I won’t.”

Freya opened the door to the room and took one last glance at Bam before stepping through and pulling it closed behind her.

Chapter 13

A gust of wind pulled at the tent with such violence that Logan woke instantly. Rain hammered down on the canvas, drumming with a deafening rhythm. The tent jerked again, and Logan imagined an invisible giant trying to lift the whole thing with him inside it. Outside, the storm howled. Another tug. The pole leaned at an unnatural angle, and Logan realised that the tent wouldn’t be able to withstand this storm for much longer. As he struggled to get dressed, the pole snapped and the canvas landed heavily on him. His hands beat against the material, and it took some effort to find the exit. Logan tried to protect his face from the driving rain with his arm, but it was futile. The wind blew the rain in all directions, and there was no protection. Around him voices echoed through the wind.

“Logan.” The voice was hollow and far away. Logan screwed his eyes up, desperately trying to see through the howling maelstrom.

“John,” he shouted into the storm.

“Logan, we need to get the boys inside the house.”

“Let them grab their sleeping bags.”

The world around them was chaos. Tents were ripped from their moorings, flapping in the wind like angry crows. The grass was treacherous and slick underfoot, and Logan fought to keep his balance. He grabbed his own sleeping bag and stuffed it under his shirt in an attempt to keep it dry. He made his way to the next tent over and struggled with the thrashing flap. The edge caught him across the cheek with a sharp snap, stunning him slightly. Logan bent down to look inside and found Terrence and Angus staring back at him, their eyes wide with fright.

“Get dressed, grab your sleeping bags and come on. We’re going to the house.” He had to scream so hard to be heard that his throat felt raw, but they understood. The young men pulled on their clothes and stuffed their sleeping bags under their shirts, following Logan’s example. He bent over, his back catching all the rain, and he wondered how dry any of his clothes were going to be in the next ten seconds. His shirt was already heavy, cold and wet, and it clung to his back like a sickly second skin.

Logan indicated for the guys to follow John and Jim. They ran to the house whooping and screaming, a mixture of excitement and terror. John opened the door for everyone to run through, and the large empty hall of the house was an oasis of calm and quiet compared to the violence outside. The smell of wet fabric mingled with the subtle limey aroma lingering in the air.

“Welcome home.”
The words were little more than a whisper and Logan turned around to see where they came from, but there was nothing behind him. His heart was going like an express train, and he felt a cold lump in his stomach. He looked at the boys, but none of them were paying attention to him. He shook his head and tried to calm his nerves.

It must be the wind… and my imagination playing tricks on me. This place is as quiet as a tomb.

A whistle cut through the stillness, and Logan glanced around to see Jim look out of one of the large windows. “That’s some storm, boys. They can get pretty bad up here.”

“Luckily, we were close to the house.” Logan pulled the sleeping bag from his shirt and inspected it. It had some dry patches, but not enough for a comfortable night’s sleep. “Damn it,” he mouthed under his breath.

A light beam shone from the doorway and Logan saw Oliver dressed in a pair of striped blue pyjamas.

“Are you guys okay?” He took some tentative steps closer. “That’s quite a storm out there.”

“Do you mind if we stay here tonight?” Logan ran a hand through his wet hair.

“Of course not. If you look in some of the old rooms, there are a few mattresses you can use. I might have some blankets still, though I don’t know if I have enough for everyone. The girls won’t mind if we use theirs.” His torch created a trembling oval on the swept floor.

“That would be very kind.”

The light moved to each man, illuminating them one at the time.

“Is that everyone?” Oliver’s eyes met Logan’s, and the blond man rubbed his neck.

“No, we’re missing two guys. But they’ve been gone since last night.”

“Oh.” There was worry on Oliver’s face, and Logan cursed himself that he had to tell him. “You didn’t mention it.”

“We figured they’d be back by now.”

“I hope they’re okay.”

“Yeah, me too.”

An awkward silence hung between them, neither man making eye contact. It was Oliver who spoke first.

“I’ll go get those blankets. The storm has cooled the night down and I don’t want you and your boys to get cold.”

“Thanks.” Logan said gratefully.

Oliver nodded and hurried off.

“John, can you take the guys upstairs to the South Wing, second floor, and grab some things to sleep on?” John acknowledged the request and urged the four young men to follow him. Logan stepped up next to Jim and looked out the window. The rainstorm was so intense it was hard to make out anything outside.

“Worried about Mace and Farrow?”

“Aye, I hope those wee pricks are okay.” Jim sighed heavily, his meaty hand rubbing his bald scalp.

“I’m going to the town tomorrow and calling their parents. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to do that, but they’ve stayed away too long.” Outside, a flash of lightning lit up the falling water and the grass below, and seconds later a deep rumbling sound chased it.

“Like their parents give a shit. Neither of them lives at home anymore.”

“Still, I feel I should notify someone.”

“They could really fuck up this project, you know that?” Jim grunted and turned to Logan. “I can’t believe they just left. I mean, they’ve done crazy shit before, but they’ve never just left without saying a word, you know? And I feel responsible.”

“Well, we
are
responsible.”

“I don’t mean like that. I mean because I convinced you to bring Mace along. I know you were hesitant about him and Jones, but I insisted, and if we hadn’t taken them…”

“That’s bullshit, Jim, and you know it. Could have been any of these guys. Technically they’re all adults, and it’s not like they’re forced to stay here.”

“Yeah but if they’re going to piss off, they should at least say something.”

“You’re not wrong there. But these are some messed up lads. I’ll have a stern word with them when we find them.”

“
If
we find them.” Jim grimaced. Logan shook his head and slapped the older man’s shoulder.

“We will.” Logan grinned, but he wondered if Jim believed him. In fact, he wasn’t at all sure that they would find the boys.

***

Pearls of sweat trailed from her forehead, down past her temples, and onto her neck, tickling her skin as they dropped. Freya wondered if she had a fever. She felt so tired, and yet a strange urge motivated her to drive on. The traffic whizzed past, loud and fast, like roaring metal animals. The drive had been quiet for the first two hours of her journey, but as the world around her woke up to start its working day, the roads became gradually more crowded. All she wanted was to be at home, to be in the calm cool space of Angel Manor.

You’re almost there… almost.
The bridge to Skye was only a twenty minute drive from where she was now, but she felt so tired.
Maybe I should stop and rest.

“Don’t stop.” The voice came from behind her and Freya looked in the rear view mirror. To her horror, she saw a pale elderly woman sitting in the back seat. Freya jerked the steering wheel. The car next to her swerved, honking its horn loud enough for Freya’s heart to beat so fast she believed it was about to jump out of her throat. Her hands tingled with the surge of adrenaline, and she needed to take several deep breaths to regain her focus. She glanced at the mirror again, but the figure was gone. The car felt a lot colder than it had moments ago, so she turned off the air conditioning.

I’m going insane.

From the corner of her eye, she saw a presence beside her. Her mind reacted, but her body was ready for it this time, and she turned her head a little to see the old woman sitting next to her.

“Aunt Miriam?” The figure turned to look at her with soulful eyes set in folds of translucent skin. “Am I hallucinating?” There was no answer, and for a moment, Freya thought about pulling the car over to the side of the road.

“Don’t stop.” The voice didn’t exactly come from Aunt Miriam, more from all around Freya, but she knew it was the old woman who spoke.

“Why are you here?”

“The house. You belong to it now. You mustn’t ever leave again.”

“Oh God, I think I do have a fever. This isn’t happening.” Her hands gripped the steering wheel even tighter until the stitching bit into her palms.

“You mustn’t leave the house again.”

“Well, I can’t just stay inside. Surely you went outside once in a while. To go shopping or go on a holiday?” She glanced at the pale figure again. Aunt Miriam looked so old, much older than her mother.

“You must care for the house, and you mustn’t do so alone.”

“You said that in your letter.”

“Find the journal.”

“What journal?”

“Find the journal.” The image flickered a few times, then faded.

“Aunt Miriam?” But she was gone, and the temperature in the car returned to normal. “This is nuts.” Freya needed time to make sense of what just happened, but she didn’t dare stop.
Another hour and a half tops, then I’ll be back home,
she thought,
back in my haunted house. Oh, fuck… I think Bam might have been right.

Chapter 14