“Yeah?”

  “In fact, I’m going to want to look further into that later.”

  “Okay?”

  “But, yes, it would be a lot of work for Orla. I just know that Cormac’s in danger.”

  “She’s not the only one.”

  True, we’re the ones stuck.

  “Do you think Cormac’s in danger because she’s hanging out with Oliver?”

  “That’s part of it.”

  “Even though I’ve known the guy for years, I’ve been getting a bad vibe off him lately.”

  Then there’s scratching at the door, which has me on edge until I hear the accompanying bark.

  “Boomer!”

  “Good dog.”

  “That means Orla’s back,” I tell Dave.

  “Maybe she can open the door from the outside.”

  “Orla, help,” I yell. “I don’t know. We haven’t been able to before.”

  Hearing Orla’s voice on the other side of the door almost brings tears of joy to my eyes.

  “Molly? Dave? How’d you guys get in here?”

  “It’s a long story,” I say.

  “We’re stuck,” Dave adds.

  “Hold on.”

  I hear her footsteps walk away. We had searched for how to open this door when we first moved in. We knew there was open space here from the layout of everything. We found the door by knocking on the wall until a hollow sound came back, but it was still concealed.

  “Screw it.”

  “Orla?” I ask.

  The sound of a drill has me smiling. Demolition Orla’s the best.

  “Yes!” Dave concurs.

  She drills holes in the shape of an X and then hammers at it until there’s a hole large enough for her fist to fit through. First, she hands over a pry bar and then another hammer.

  “Dave, you take the west side of the door or frame. Whatever you can get to.”

  “You got the east?”

  “Of course.”

  As I watch them now that there’s some light in here, all I can think is how great of a team they make. They’re obliterating our wall, and I couldn’t be happier. They truly are meant for one another. Though I’m content to be free, a wariness creeps in as I consider the possibilities of this spirit. If it could suck Dave and I into a room, what could it possibly be doing to Cormac right now?

  CHAPTER SEVEN – ORLA

  "Come little children, I'll take thee away, into a land of Enchantment. Come little children, the time's come to play, here in my garden of magic." Sarah Sanderson, Hocus Pocus

  “How in the world did you guys get in there?”

  Dave struggles to climb out of the little entrance while Molly impatiently waits.

  “It’s a long story.” She blows hair out of her eyes.

  “When Molly began telling me what you didn’t want her to, the house sucked us into that place.” He points to the area behind the now broken door.

  “You mean when she foisted information on you.”

  “Hey!” Molly looks insulted as she stretches her way into the hall through the opening.

  “What’s in there anyway?” I lean my head to get a view.

  “It was too dark for us to see.” Dave shrugs his shoulders.

  “I’ll go grab some flashlights.” Molly runs off with Boomer following behind.

  Dave brushes dust from his pants as I peek farther into the room to try to make out the dimensions. The ceiling’s lower than the hallway ceiling. There’s basic floorboard but no carpet or hardwood. The walls are also void of drywall finishing. The studs are viewable all around.

  “Here.” Molly hands us each a flashlight.

  Neither one of them makes a move to enter the place they just escaped. I get it, but my curiosity wins. I start maneuvering my way in. A hint of a whisper seems to bounce along the walls around the room. It’s weird, like nothing I’ve felt before, but I can tell there’s a presence here.

  A cold draft flows, and goosebumps prickle my arm. It’s followed by the smell of rotten eggs. I move the flashlight around, taking in the room. Cobwebs and bits of insulation can be found as well as decades-old dust. There’s a couple of paths along the floor that disrupt the dirt. Torn rope sits in the center. I spot the shape of something in the corner. Tiptoeing toward the small, rectangular object, I see pages within a tattered leather cover. The golden embossed cursive writing on the outside says: Daily Journal.

  The diary looks about a century old. A warm draft blows from the opposite direction. I’d felt the cold draft. Must have to do with the fragile, antique house as well as its equally old heating and cooling system. The air causes the diary to open, pages fluttering in the wind. Then it stops leaving the journal’s spine bent backward. The writing is so eloquent. I know this is probably private, but I’m drawn to it anyway. I read: Don’t worry. I know the signal. I can post it faster than Bob can finish a limerick.

  Before I can read further, a giggle sounds right behind me. I turn around to see what it is, but my flashlight goes out, and I’m suddenly on the ground being pulled by something I cannot see. It feels like someone’s touching me but I’m not possessing their soul. Three things hit me all at once: the pounding of my heart, gasping for air, and nauseousness. What in the hell is happening?

  “Orla?” It sounds like Dave’s not having an easy time reentering this place.

  “Hurry up.” Molly’s impatient as ever, thank goodness.

  Boomer’s barking as if an intruder has entered our home. I tremble. The strange snicker bounces off the walls echoing back to me as my back rubs against the floor. “Dave!”

  He drops to the ground upon entry, with Molly falling on top of him and Boomer not too far behind. They stumble to me while shining their flashlights, trying to find the being in our hidden room to no avail. Then Dave’s holding me, actually holding me. With his arms around me, I grab onto his broad shoulders. His solid chest against me makes me feel safe as he carries me out of the room.

  “Are you okay?”

  The presence I had felt before disappears as quickly as it came. My heartbeat slows down and my breathing returns to normal. There is complete comfort being in his arms. It’s as if he’s pumping warm support to me through my connection to his soul. How is this happening? But I begin to sense worry trickling in, and much too soon, he’s releasing me.

  Boomer’s in my lap next, licking my face, and I can’t help but smile.

  “We should have never let you go in there after what happened to us.” Molly lets out an exasperated breath.

  “Why, what happened to you in there?”

  “It was awful.” Dave runs his hand down his face.

  “Yeah, something pulled us and tied our hands.” Molly’s pacing in our hallway.

  “What was it?”

  “I don’t know.” The way he looks at me is desperation personified.

  I can tell they’re both pretty shaken by the experience. Then Molly looks at me as if an idea just bloomed. “You could see what happened to us since we’re not able to explain.”

  “What?” I ask.

  “Just hold my hand.” She reaches her hand out to me.

  “Molly... you know what that will do...,”

  “I know but I’d rather that than try to explain what we experienced.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “Really,” Dave’s looking down at Molly. “First, you’re considering putting her through that with someone else and now with you?”

  “What are you talking about?” I’m so confused.

  “It’s nothing.” She looks like she could kill him. “Can we please just board this room back up?”

  That does sound good to me. I already have the tool kit here. I look at Dave. “Can you grab a few of the boards from the shed?”

  I turn to my roommate and give her the look after Dave has walked away.

  “What?” she asks.

  “He said you were considering me possessing someone else’s soul before you suggested I possess yours.”

  “Oh, that.”

  “Yeah, that.”

  “Listen. I know something’s going on with Cormac helping Oliver. I don’t believe they’re just communicating with ghosts. There’s got to be more to it.”

  I hesitate. At first, I want to argue and say she’s so wrapped up in the girl she’s not thinking clearly. But then I remember the séance and Molly’s visions. “Fine, I agree with you.”

  “Good...because this is important.”

  “Okay.” I don’t like the look on her face.

  “There is something in that room. Dave and I both witnessed it, not to mention we were attacked by it, and it went after you. There’s nothing else here that could do something like that. We think you can help with this next part because there may be some danger involved. Well, I think it has something to do with the haunting of Oliver's crew and my visions."

  Whatever happened definitely spooked Molly. She doesn’t usually ramble like this.

  "What do you mean? How can I help?"

  "I need to know exactly what Cormac is doing to help the crew."

  "You already said that—so?"

  "I need you to possess her soul."

  "But you know what that will do to me."

  "I wouldn't ask if I didn't believe it was of utmost importance."

  "But how is that going to help you guys?"

  "That's what I need to know. You can see and hear things when you're in someone else’s soul, right?"

  I'm not sure. "I've never tried reaching external sources while possessing a soul. I will be able to see her thoughts and memories, though."

  Dave returns with the requested boards and looks at Molly like she's crazy. Then he points to me with a screwdriver in his hand. "You're actually going to ask her to do this?"

  Molly steps closer to him and puts a hand on his arm. She growls, "Do you have a superior idea? Can you come up with anything better than my suggestion?"

  He shakes his head no, but he doesn't look happy about it either. He throws the hammer down onto the floor. "You know what, fine. Do it. Never mind the years you couldn’t touch me but all of a sudden, you will touch another person just because Molly asks you to."

  The way he's looking at me makes me feel like I'm the one who's done something wrong. I really don't need this. What about our blossoming relationship?

  “Dave, it’s not like that. People are in danger,” I plead, but he turns away. I hold my hand over his shoulder, wondering if it’s safe to touch him, wanting to comfort him so badly. My hand rests on his shoulder for the quickest second. Eventually, he nods in agreement.

  "Okay, but I wish you would have asked earlier, Molly. I was just with Cormac at the graveyard."

  "Desperate times call for desperate measures," Molly says. "Wait, you were with Cormac?"

  First, shock hits her face. Then she recovers and looks back at me with pleading eyes that say do this for me...please?

  "How do you suggest I do this? I'm guessing you don't want her to know that it's happening."

  "Well." Molly has her evil planning look plastered on her face as Dave secures the boards up, closing off the haunted room. "The Ethel Festival of Samhain is coming up."

  "Plenty of distractions and time," Dave finally agrees, seeming to end his bickering.

  "You want to possess her soul at the Celtic Festival?" I ask. Instantly I think of the bonfire and how the Ethel citizens will bring offerings to toss into the pyre. Everyone will be in costume, and the kids will bob for apples. We’ll have every candle lit by midnight when the local musicians walk the streets serenading the town in a tradition thought to cleanse us each year.

  Molly nods. "She's not going to be expecting it."

  I start to speak but then shut my mouth when I realize that I’m standing next to a haunted room while considering doing this. Possess her soul? What if it doesn't work because something goes wrong? If Dave has to resort to punching Oliver, he will. Possessing souls on purpose is punishable by my kind, but I haven’t exactly told anyone else that, not even Molly though I think she knows. And now we're talking about doing it on someone who may or may not know what she's doing and not even telling her how dangerous the consequences could be for us all. Molly swallows hard and stares me down like she can make me comply through sheer force.

  Another downfall to this plan is the Festival of Samhain itself. During this time, my ability is heightened, yes, but that’s because it’s also when dead souls revisit loved ones. Which means I’ll be constantly surrounded by them, making it harder for me to control the possession of another. Possessing the dead is not my favorite part of this gift. Possession of the living isn’t either, but I’ve found workarounds, and I luckily can only do it to one other person at a time. Dave seems to be the best at being able to work with me in tandem during the process. I’m not exactly sure why that is, but I’ve never experienced this kind of control from another soul before.

  Possession is a gift that requires immense concentration to control. Possession of the living is like getting tangled in a web of thoughts and emotions, especially when you’re close to them. Possession of the dead can also be overwhelming, but not having the soul fight against me while I search for answers has lessened my headache. Possessing another person usually leaves me with splitting headaches and dizziness afterward. Sometimes it's worse than others, depending on how much I exert myself and how long I’m able to maintain possession each time I do it. And yet, I can’t think of another way we’re going to get the complete story from Oliver and Cormac.

  I'm done arguing so I cross my arms over my chest and shrug at Molly after she sighs her relief at my submission. "Let's get this over with.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT – MOLLY

  “The new white yacht with tall slender masts restlessly awaited her departure. Above the din of bustle and confusion rose high pitched and excited voices. Groups of people stood on the dock and stared, while others were tangled in last minute embraces.”

  Cruise of the Norther Light, Borden

  I can’t believe Orla has agreed to possess Cormac’s soul. I’ll finally get to know exactly what she’s been up to out at sea. I take a deep breath while watching my roommate, fearing she’ll change her mind. “We have some time to plan out the logistics. Dave and I can be close to ensure nothing bad will happen.”

  Boomer looks at the boarded-up door and whines. His tail’s between his legs, and his hackles are raised.

  “How about we plan somewhere else? This place gives me the creeps now.” Dave’s pacing back and forth stealing glances at the haunted room as if he’s guarding us from it.

  “Yeah, I’m not really sure I could fall asleep knowing that presence is down the hall,” Orla says.

  “You could stay at my place,” Dave offers, and my heart melts watching them. He’s loved Orla for so long.

  “Yeah, you should stay with Dave, Orla.” I nod. “I can stay with Cormac.”

  “Will you be able to refrain from spilling the beans?” Orla knows me too well.

  “For this, I can.”

  “Okay.” She tilts her head to the side, and I can’t tell if she’s impressed or pondering something.

  “I can ensure she’ll be at the festival by inviting her to go with me. That way, I can be privy to important details too.”

  “That’s a great idea.” Dave’s eyes get bigger when he thinks something’s a good idea.

  Orla puts her arm around his shoulders. I’m filled with relief that she’s finally able to touch another person. “Why don’t you help me pack?”

  They leave, and I turn to go to my room to do the same. My skin tingles thinking of the bath Cormac and I might share once I’m at her place. Hers is large enough to fit two easily, one of those jacuzzi things.

  LETTING MYSELF INTO Cormac’s apartment brings back so many memories. When she nursed me after a hangover with electrolytes and greasy food. I look at the double-sided easel in the center of the living room where we’ve spent so many hours. She’s into realism and her portraits are the most life-like that I’ve seen. She helped me find my love of the abstract though she’s never known the reason it called to me, a way to express what the effects of the ringing did to me. Of course, the last time we were here, I told her about my visions, and she ran off. I hope we can just make up. Her being mad at me is the worst.

  When I turn around, she’s there. Cormac steps forward, and my stomach flips like I’m riding a roller coaster. I nod and grin at her, hoping it will win her over.

  “Look what the cat dragged in.”

  “Hey!” I playfully jab her in the arm.

  “You finally come to terms with my independence?”

  “Like I could stop you from hanging out with Oliver if I wanted to?”

  “Exactly, you should know better by now.”

  “Guess I’ll have to distract you for as long as I can instead.”

  I take a deep breath and try to slow my pounding heart as Cormac moves closer toward me across the room, her eyes studying mine for any sign of fear like they used to hold when we first met. She doesn't need to know that fear has become incidental now that I’m used to her presence. No matter what I’ve been through, her energy is calming instead of intimidating or frightening since I know her better than strangers ever would. I feel as if we've been connected for an eternity.

  Cormac’s lips meet mine again, and this time, they’re forceful and demanding. She plunders my mouth hungrily and suddenly, we're kissing like there’s no tomorrow: hot, hard, and fast until Cormac pushes me against the wall so strongly it hurts but feels so good. Her hands are all over me, her mouth covering my neck in kisses that make me shiver. Cormac pulls away from the kiss to murmur, "I can't stop thinking about you" in my ear. She groans and starts kissing me again before I have the chance to respond. Cormac grabs my hips and presses her body against mine so tightly it feels sublime. She's touching me everywhere at once.

  The warmth of Cormac’s breath against my ear makes me gasp with need as she whispers, "I've got something for you." Before I know what’s happened, Cormac grabbed my waist and lifted me up so she can carry me to her room and lay me down on the bed. Cormac’s hovering over me with her lips brushing against mine. Cormac kisses my neck softly as her hands run from my hips to the hem of my shirt, making me gasp as her fingertips brush across my skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake as Cormac slowly pulls my shirt off and tosses it away. I rip her shirt off, too, and groan at how gorgeous she is. As we both become undressed, this feels more right than anything ever has before.

 

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