Page 83 of The Curse of Redwood
Taylor’s throat worked as he swallowed noisily.
Callum snickered and filled a kettle with water. I got the sense he liked teasing my friend.
I took the opportunity to look around. The flat wasn’t too big, though it was spacious enough to have a full kitchen and living room, along with two closed doors. Plants of all types hung around the place and even more were outside on the balcony. The walls were a deep red, and I observed the weird décor. It reminded me of what you’d find in a gothic mansion: small statues of gargoyles and other strange creatures, as well as ornate picture frames with black and white photos of creepy looking places inside them.
“Who’s doing the readings downstairs?” Taylor asked, leaning against the counter as he watched Callum put the kettle on the stove and set out teacups.
“My mother,” he answered. “She is much better at it than me. I only do the readings during the week.”
“You were pretty awesome when you did mine,” Taylor said, flashing a flirty smile.
“I struggle with the theatrics and commercialism of it,” Callum responded, turning to us. He motioned to the four-seater table. “Please, sit.” After we were all seated, he added, “Fortune telling is more than having the gift of sight. At least when it comes to customers who seek the magic of the experience. My mother plays into their wishes and puts on a show. I’m much too serious. An omen of doom is what Mother calls me. It scares the customers away. She believes they should leave with hope in their heart, as opposed to fear.”
“So, she wants you to lie?” Ben asked. “That doesn’t seem right.”
“Not lie, exactly.” Callum rested a hand on the arm of his chair. It was one of those fancy dinner sets with high cushioned backs. “Just… focus more on the good rather than the bad. It’s where we differ, I suppose. And speaking of bad,” he looked at me, “you are surrounded in negative energy. It’s suffocating.”
“Is that why you brought us up here?”
“Yes. The sooner we begin, the better. Where is the necklace I gave you?”
“I, uh, threw it off me last night because it burned my skin.”
Callum rested a hand at the corner of his mouth. It was really hard not to stare at him. He was inhumanly beautiful—not as attractive as Zeke, but he was close. “When we first met, I sensed a dark presence attached to you. I hoped the stone would offer you protection against it, but it seems you were farther in its grasp than I realized.”
So that explained the fear in his eyes when he’d touched me.
“Is it possible for a ghost to possess someone?” I asked in a voice so quiet I hoped he could hear me. Because I didn’t know if I could say it any louder. I was too afraid of his answer.
“Yes,” he said automatically, confirming my fears. “There are many forms of possession. Demon is the most common, and the most horrifying, yet a spirit can attach to someone as well. It might take longer, but it’s possible and can be just as intense. Give me your hand.”
Shaking like a leaf about to fall from a branch, I reached a hand toward him.
He took it in his and closed his eyes as his fingers traced the lines on my palm. That strange poking and prodding returned as I got the sense I wasn’t alone in my mind—or body—anymore. My arm muscle spasmed uncontrollably, as if trying to jerk out of Callum’s hold, but he held on tighter.
When his eyes opened, I saw the worry he failed to mask. “Just as I feared,” he said. “You’re in the final stage of possession.”
“What does that mean?” Ben asked.
“It means that the entity has hold of him, but the claim over his body isn’t complete,” Callum explained. “Not yet.”
“Over my body?” My voice shook like crazy.
“What most spirits want more than anything is to live again,” Callum said. “By possessing a human vessel, they can eventually take complete control. Your body then belongs to them, and they can do with it what they please.”
“So, I’ll die?”
“In a manner of speaking. Your resolve will weaken. Eventually, you will be subdued in your own body as the entity completes the possession. If that happens, there is nothing I can do. You will be lost. You will not die, but you’ll wish you could as you become a prisoner in your own flesh.”
My vision blurred with frightened tears as his words registered. It was a lot more serious than I had thought. Philip and I weren’t just linked; he was trying to seize control of my body.
The kettle whistled on the stove, the sound piercing the silence in the room. Callum stood and removed it from the burner before dropping teabags into it.
“We’re here for you, C,” Taylor said, placing his hand on my forearm.
Ben gripped my shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. “You’ll get through this.”
How could they be so sure? I sure as hell wasn’t. My mind conjured up nothing but the worst-case scenario. One of the biggest questions bouncing around in my head waswhy.Why was Philip doing this? Callum had described him as a dark entity. But Zeke had said he and Philip had been in love.
