Page 10 of Cordelia Manor
I strode over to the front door, locked it, and waited. “See, nothing is—” I didn’t even get the words out before the lock unlatched. “Magnets?” I questioned, and looked at him with squinted eyes. “Stop messing me around. I’m not sure what’s going on here, but I don’t like being attacked. My head still hurts. I want the damned doors locked, and whatever is going on in that basement best not come back on me.”
I could feel my dander getting up and mumbled under my breath as I walked to the elevator and punched the button, waiting for the doors to open. “I bet you have bodies down there. Fucking ghosts indeed.”
When I stepped inside the elevator and pressed the close button, I noticed Cary watching me from the lobby. He hadn’t moved, but his eyes were trained on me with an intensity I’d never experienced before. I felt too frustrated to think much ofit, though, and continued mumbling to myself until the door finally shut, and the slow ride up to the third floor began.
The caretaker might be sexy in a mysterious and brooding sort of way, but there was something not right here, and I’d be damned if I would let him pull me into it.
8
Cary
Okay, I’d be lyingif I said seeing the twink getting worked up into a state didn’t turn me on. I guessed I would have to be dead myself to miss that.
The ghost revelation went over like a lead balloon, not that I didn’t anticipate it. Skepticism and denial always came before understanding and acceptance. At least he didn’t kick me out or accuse me of attacking him. After contemplating my options, which weren’t many, I turned toward the basement and slowly made my way down the stairs. I had no fear of spirits, but damn, even I was creeped out by the basement in this place.
The natural rock walls were exposed, and since the manor was basically built into a volcanic mountain, I imagined the builders figured they couldn’t get much more secure than to tie the structure into the actual rock it sat on.
Unfortunately, the crystal-rich rock forming the basement caused the nasty entity to hold some power I didn’t think it normally would’ve had in this realm. I immediately caught a whiff of his cologne as I reluctantly descended the stairs. That was his signature.
I’d tried determining what the scent actually was when I first arrived and thought I’d be able to relate to this man somehow. I never figured it out, and even learned it was usually frowned upon for a man to wear cologne in the late Victorian period.
I also learned, very quickly, he was not to be trifled with, and trying to negotiate or communicate with him wasn’t very likely either. From my research, I thought the man had some kind of personality disorder. From all accounts, he didn’t appear to have any friends. Not even his son wanted much to do with him.
Poltergeist was the term I’d give this entity if I had to label him. I didn’t, however, give him a name because that gave him power, and this one already had more than enough. I proceeded toward the back of the basement, where he was strongest. Usually, I wouldn’t have dared come here, except I knew he was still weak from the spells cast the night before.
“You have got to leave,” I said, entering the area behind the huge boiler that heated the entire manor. I heard his laughter, but wasn’t sure if it was in my head. “You can’t stay here any longer. Not after attacking a living being. I’m giving you fair warning because I don’t like to force the spirit world.”
Just then, he materialized in front of me. His body not quite corporeal, as I assumed he’d be able to make it if he still had his full power.
He opened his mouth to say something, then looked over my shoulder. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck prickle and my stomach fall as I realized Evan must’ve come back downstairs and followed me into the basement.
I threw up a quick shield, but not fast enough to stop the attack. The ghost shattered the shield as he collided with it, throwing Evan back against the boiler.
I rushed forward, grabbing him under the arm, pulling him up, and rushing him toward the stairs. “Go, now!” I demanded, and turned around just as the entity was reforming.
“Leave here!” it bellowed, and this time I knew I was hearing him, and not just in my head.
I didn’t try to confront him again, not when he was so angry. Instead, I cast a bubble around myself and forced it toward him hoping that’d give me enough time to escape.
I made it to the top of the stairs when I felt sharp nails swipe the back of my shoulder. “Shit,” I said, and slammed the door behind me. I secured the boundaries I’d set when I first arrived, effectively sealing the nasty thing in the basement for now. Not that they would last long. He was still too damned powerful.
Maybe Al was right. Maybe it was time to exorcise him. Unfortunately, that would do the same for all the spirits here, and they didn’t deserve to be punished just because of him. Besides, they were likely here to keep him contained. More than once, I’d gone with my mom or grandmother to deal with evil spirits only to watch them pull upon the surrounding spirits to help in forcing the nasty one to behave. It didn’t work to punish your allies, even if they were ghosts.
I reached back and felt the tender skin where I’d been attacked. “I sucked air through my teeth as I gingerly touched the scratches. I’d have to get a juniper poultice made up. Damn, this was getting serious.
I ignored the pain and went in search of Evan. I found the front door wide open and him holding himself under one of the giant western live oaks that lined the front driveway.
Of course, I wanted to scream and yell at him for not doing what I’d asked. But he was the owner of the place and an innocent bystander, and he hadn’t believed me about the spirits that occupied the manor. “Are you okay?” I asked instead.
He shook his head. “Wh… what was that?”
“A very nasty deceased man,” I responded. “He threw you pretty hard. Are you sure you aren’t hurt?”
He shook his head. “Um, no, I’m not physically hurt, not this time, but… that thing is dangerous!”
“Yeah, he is. You believe me now?” I asked.
He nodded slowly. “Why…? Why is he attacking me?”
