The Deepest Cut (12 page)

“Sorry to bother you two, but I was hoping you could help me out,” Miss Akin said, flashlight in hand. “I keep losing power in the kitchen, and I need to check the fuse box.”

“Where’s the fuse box?” I asked.

“In the basement.”

I thought all basements were eerie, but given the age of the inn, I could only imagine how creepy this basement would be.

“I can check the fuse box while you flip the stove on,” she suggested.

Having seen how antiquated the stove was, I decided I didn’t want to take the

chance of touching the wrong thing and blowing us all sky high.

“We’ll check the fuse box.”

Megan’s eyes widened. “Oh, no way.”

“Come on, Megan. I don’t want to go down there alone.” I wanted to tell her if she could brave a cemetery in the dark, then a musty old basement would be no problem, but I wouldn’t in front of Miss Akin. If Miss A knew what had happened at the mausoleum, she’d probably lock me in my room…or personally visit every parent of each kid that had been involved.

Just like my mom would have done.

The light to the basement was on, for all the good it did. It was a dark, cold, musty area with lots of places to hide behind, and I wondered if my dad had ever been down here. The steps weren’t solid, and I envisioned someone standing behind those stairs, just ready to stick a hand out and trip me up.

“Gross,” Megan said with a shudder, brushing at her arms. “Eew, there are cob-webs everywhere.”

I laughed under my breath, clicking the flashlight on and off beneath my chin. “Wah-hah-hah.”

Megan swatted me. “Stop it, Riley. Not all of us are brave like you, you know.”

I’d never considered myself to be brave, but apparently an hour in the mausoleum had changed that.

“The old caretaker said the fuse box is by the water heater,” Miss Akin said from the top of the stairs. “Give me a minute to get to the kitchen. When I’m there, I’ll call out, and if you could, Megan, tell me when Riley has flipped the switch.”

“Will do, Miss A!” I yelled, listening to her progress by way of the floorboards creak-ing overhead.

Megan hovered near the stairs. “I’m staying right here so Miss A can hear me.”

“Rrrright…”

“Hurry up,” Megan said, looking jumpy.

“This place gives me the creeps.”

“Doesn’t everyone in town live in an old house?”

“Yeah, but not this old…and not this big.”

She gave a shudder. “I wish your brother was here.”

I snickered. “I bet you do.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” I instantly caught the defensive tone of her voice. Despite the fact she and Milo had been together for six months now, I could tell she liked Shane. She got all giggly and red-faced around him.

“Nothing,” I said, walking toward the massive water heater. Sure enough the fuse box was nearby, and talk about antiquated.

The box was large, white and rusty, and let out a loud squeak when I opened it. I found the tag that read ‘kitchen’ and reached for the right switch. “Ask Miss A if she’s ready.”

Megan yelled up the stairs to Miss Akin, who said she was ready.

I flipped the switch.

“Nothin’,” came the reply a second later, from what sounded like the kitchen. “Flip the main switch, but be sure you have your torch on,” Miss Akin called, her voice somewhat muffled. “We’ll lose all the lights.”

I flipped the switch and at the same time I felt hands slip around my neck.

“Very funny, Megan,” I said as I reached up to pull her hands away.

“What did you say?” Megan asked, her voice coming from farther away, by the stairs…which meant it was someone else.

“The stove is on, girls!” Miss A yelled tri-umphantly from upstairs. “Well done!”

The ice cold hands at my neck tightened, and I tried to pull away, but they held me firm, squeezing tighter by the second. Panic ensued. I dropped the flashlight and clawed at the hands around my neck. The more I

struggled, the tighter the hands at my throat.

I stepped backward, and felt a person behind me, and whoever they were, they were stronger than me.

“Riley, what’s wrong?” I heard Megan, her voice full of fear.

I tried to respond, but I couldn’t breathe and was getting dizzy.

“Forget him,” an eerie voice said in my ear. “Forget him…or die.”

“Riley, what’s going on?” Megan said, her footsteps coming closer.

The hands abruptly released me and I gasped for breath. I had come close to nearly passing out.

“Are you alright, Riley?” Megan asked, her voice anxious.

I held up a finger, signaling I needed a second.

“What happened?”

“I felt a shock,” I said, feeling bad for lying, but I couldn’t very well tell her I’d been attacked by a ghost.

“Oh my God, Riley. I’m so sorry. I thought for a minute there you were messing with me. You’re lucky you didn’t get electrocuted.”

I nodded in agreement. “I’m fine now. I just need to catch my breath.”

“Let’s get out of here,” Megan said, grabbing the flashlight, taking me by the hand, and leading me upstairs.

I scanned the basement as we ascended the stairs, and I didn’t see anyone—until I glanced down and nearly screamed when I saw Laria standing beneath the stairs, watching us with a malevolent smile on her face that chilled me to the bone.

“Come on, Riley,” Megan said, and I watched Laria as I continued up the steps. I refused to run…even though I wanted to.

Miss Akin met us at the top of the stairs, a huge smile on her lips that faded the second she saw me. “What’s wrong? You’re as white as paste…and what on earth is around your neck?”

Megan gasped. “Bloody hell, what’s that?”

They were both staring at my neck.

I reached up, touched my throat. “What do you mean?”

Miss Akin pushed my hands out of the way. “You have red marks around your neck, like finger prints.” She looked from me to Megan. “What on earth happened down there?”

“Riley couldn’t breathe for a second and said she felt a shock rush through her.”

Megan stared at my neck in the same way Miss Akin was.

I walked to the large mirror that hung over the fireplace in the parlor and lifted my chin. I could understand why they were so

alarmed. Sure enough, there were purplish imprints from Laria’s fingers around my neck.

“How can that be?” Megan said under her breath. “There was no one near you. It was just the two of us, and I swear to God, Riley, I didn’t touch you. I was standing by the stairs the entire time.”

“I know that, Megan. No one is saying you did.”

Miss Akin gave her a reassuring squeeze.

“My dear, all is well.”

“It’s okay, Megan,” I said, but I could tell she wasn’t buying it. She jumped when her cell rang.

Megan looked at the caller ID, flipped the phone open. “I’ll be right there, Mum.” She closed her cell and rushed toward the door.

“I gotta babysit my brother. I’ll call you later, alright?”

“Sure,” I replied as the door closed behind her.

Miss Akin touched my neck again. “Who did this to you, Riley?”

I didn’t know exactly how much to share with her, especially given how scared she’d been after the séance with Anne Marie. “I think it was Laria.”

“Has she touched or harmed you before?”

“No.”

She shook her head. “I should not have sent you downstairs. I should have just called a contractor.”

“Laria could have done it anywhere, Miss A.”

Miss Akin shook her head. “I do not like this at all. It makes me very uneasy. Even more so since I was supposed to meet with Anne Marie this morning for tea and she called to cancel. She hasn’t cancelled in over twenty years. She’s the healthiest, most active person I know—and now all she does is sit in her house all day.”

“What’s wrong with her?”

“I don’t know. She said she had a cold.

She sounded horrible—tired and worn out, but I sensed something else was bothering her.”

I wondered if that something else had to do with a certain ghost who was making our lives unbearable.

There were at least twenty people surrounding me. All were dressed in black
monk-like robes, standing with hands folded
together before them, their heads bowed.

I was pulled toward them by my captor, who shoved me into the hands of another cloaked figure. My captor rushed away, and the person before me pushed me to my knees.

As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I looked around and recognized this place from Maggie’s vision. The giant fir and oaks surrounded us, enclosing us deep in the woods, far away from prying eyes, which meant I was far away from any help.

My heartbeat was a roar in my ears, and grew even louder as the group began to chant, the words making absolutely no sense to me. Sweat poured off my forehead, and as

the chanting grew louder, I struggled against the binds that held my hands together.

Terror gripped me, making it hard to even breathe. Was this it? Was I about to die at the hands of a cult?

A sacrifice…just like the lamb.

But now I was the lamb.

The person in front of me pulled out a knife, and the blade glimmered in the light from the fire. I felt the anticipation of the crowd around me, the way they came closer, the way their voices became louder, the chanting faster.

“
Please let me go,” I whispered. “I swear
I won’t say anything. No one will know.”

The figure ignored me. He raised a hand to the others and the chanting abruptly stopped.

It was so quiet.

Too quiet.

There wasn’t even a breeze. I was so tense, I jumped when the wood on the fire crackled and popped.

The cloaked figure lifted the knife high in the air.

This was it. I was history. I thought about my dad and my brother, and wondered how they could possibly handle such loss again.

The group resumed their chanting, in a strange language I didn’t understand.

I concentrated on the voices, and I heard male and female voices—and even one or two that sounded young. Who would bring a kid here?

I swallowed past my painfully tight
throat. “Who are you? What do you want
from me?”

Silence met my question.

My stomach coiled as I was pulled to my feet and dragged over to a makeshift altar.

Using all my strength, I jerked away from my captor and ran for the tree line, but with my

hands tied behind my back, I was at a huge disadvantage. I could hear more than one person follow me. Seconds later, I was tackled and yanked over toward the altar.

I went completely limp, hoping to trip them up—but they dragged me back to the shrine.

One figure, slighter than the rest, came forward. He or she carried a goblet, similar to the one from Maggie’s vision where lamb’s blood had been drained into the goblet.

My fear was all-consuming, and I had to bite the inside of my lip to keep from screaming.

Within minutes I would be dead. I knew it with a bone-chilling certainty. These freaks would slit my neck, drink my blood, and life as I knew it would be over.

Finished. No more pain. No more loss.

No more…

I fought against my captors again, which earned me a smack against the head. The

side of my face throbbed, and I felt blood flow from a wound on my forehead.

I struggled against my binds, and the ropes burned my wrists. I kicked the person before me and I was abruptly pushed back.

“
Riley,” he said sternly, and I stopped
cold.

I gasped. Oh my God, I knew that voice.

“
Ian?” I said in disbelief.

He pushed the hood back with both hands. His brilliant eyes were cold, cruel even, as he looked down at me with anger and hatred. “You must die now,” he said matter-of-factly. Lifting the dagger, he fisted it with both hands and brought it down hard.

I came awake with a startled cry.

What the hell?
The comforter was wrapped around my legs, and my T-shirt was soaked with sweat. I ran a trembling hand down my face. What was happening to me?

Was Laria messing with me again? Were my

dreams turning darker by the day because I was getting closer to Ian?

Shane whipped my bedroom door open.

Baseball bat in hand, he looked around wildly. “What the fuck is going on?” He finally turned to look at me, obviously surprised to find me alone. “Are you okay?”

I nodded, too afraid to say anything for fear I’d burst into tears. The dream had seemed so real. As real as the vision of Ian’s death, but this time it had been my death, and Ian, the person I trusted more than anyone, had killed me. I had felt all the emotions a person facing death must go through, and as much as the idea might have held some appeal, ironically, I wasn’t at all ready to go.

I had fought for myself, for my brother, for my dad. I’m not so sure I would have even a month ago, but I was a different person now.

A stronger person, thanks to Ian.

Shane relaxed a little. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I just had a bad dream.”

“You want to talk about it?”

I shook my head. “Not really, but thanks anyway.”

He shut the door behind him, lowered his voice. “You shouldn’t have gone into that mausoleum. Why didn’t you just take a truth question?”

I didn’t tell him why I was afraid of a truth question. I had too many skeletons in my closet, and I didn’t want anyone here knowing anything about me. “Sometimes it’s smart to play your cards close to your chest,”

I said, remembering Mom telling me that very thing shortly before her death. She’d been worried about me getting too friendly with Ashley.

He nodded. “Do you want me to crash out on your floor…at least until you fall asleep?”

I was surprised by the offer. Years ago, when he was about four, he’d come into my room whenever he was scared. Back then

he’d just climb under the covers, a hand reaching out for me. I’d squeeze his hand, just smile to myself, roll over and when I woke in the morning, he’d be gone, usually up and about, and neither of us said a word to our parents. “No, that’s okay. The floor can’t be that comfortable.”