A Haunting
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Excerpt: "Shh, shhhh, darling. All will be well. Everything's going to be just fine."
Soft lips pressed against Jake's temple.
Something really stunk. His eyelids fluttered open, sight hazy, brain cloudy, until his vision came into focus on the corpse staring back at him.
Jake flinched, rolling onto something brittle that ground beneath his shoulder. Craning his neck to see what it was, Jake found himself on top of another skeleton. Small. Child. Dressed in those old-fashioned shorts and frilly shirt they used to force young boys to wear. Gulping, he turned back to the other corpse, recognizing the fifteen-year-old girl that had gone missing only last week.
Jake frowned. He lay between two murdered children in . . . he took in his surroundings. Small tight dark cramped space. Pointy, like a triangle. Ambient light slashed in from some kind of stained glass window way way up at the point of the triangle. No doors or other windows. Like someone had mortared up their own hidey-hole. No way in or out unless you got dragged in by the poltergeist express.
Jake sat up, grimacing at the sudden bout of dizziness.
"Don't be afraid, sweetheart. It will be over soon." A cool hand rippled across his brow. The ghost flickered beside him like a TV on the fritz, her knees melding through the dead girl's chest like transparent gelatin.
Clover Autrey
“Clover Autrey’s books are perfect for the time-constrained reader. They are a quick read jam-packed with action, adventure and emotion.” ...from a reader in Utah.Clover Autrey writes the kind of stories she loves to read, high fantasy and time travels with Scottish Highlanders or magical mermen and shapeshifters, with powerful elements of romance, where the hero and heroine must each make sacrifices to gain something even stronger. She is the author of the HIGHLAND SORCERY series and the ANOINTED series.Clover serves as the current president of the Keller Writers Association and is the past president for the North Texas Romance Writers of America. She is a frequent speaker at conferences and workshops.Inspired by her love of Louis L'Amour historical romantic heroes, Clover (yeah, that's her real name), packed up and moved to Texas where she found a real live Texan of her own. She's been there ever since where she and Pat (who else would a Clover marry but a Patrick?) listen to the coyotes howl at the trains each evening.Become one of Clover's LuckyCharmers for exclusive content and free books at http://www.subscribepage.com/luckycharmers
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Book preview
A Haunting - Clover Autrey
A Haunting
The Anointed Series Book Three
By Clover Autrey
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2012 Clover Autrey
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Cover art by Damone Nickerson
All Rights Reserved
~~~
Table of Contents
A HAUNTING
You can't keep him from me.
The disembodied voice purred so close to Henry's ear, he shivered at the icy cold breath.
Watch me.
Gripping Jake tighter to his side, Henry tugged the ornate door handle, unsurprised when it wouldn't budge. Ghost had them bottled up tight.
Feminine laughter echoed around the mansion's spacious foyer.
This way, son.
Henry hefted Jake higher, not liking the kid's sluggish movements. Damn ghost had flung him headlong into the iron-wrought banister. Henry headed into the east wing, searching for another way out, one arm supporting a groggy Jake, the opposite hand gripping the kremloc dagger—the one Celalundria gifted him with years ago. Although he loved the feel of a good old American made automatic, the opal blade of the Anointed surpassed any weapon they had when dealing with spirits.
I can walk,
Jake murmured.
I know you can.
Henry pulled them down the wide gloomy hallway. There hadn't been electricity running through the abandoned estate for a decade, yet the fluted wall sconces flickered around them almost as though the spirit herded them. Just concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other. I'll do the rest.
Nudging a door open with his foot, Henry peered inside, spotting a large bay window they could try. Gauzy curtains with moth-bitten holes billowed inward without a breeze to lift them in front of closed panes of old wavery glass.
Dad.
Warning edged Jake's tone.
Henry's gaze followed the darkness toward the end of the hallway where the woman materialized.
A slender finger waggled disapprovingly. You can't keep him from me,
her voice sighed around them, as close and intimately as a lover's, though her lips remained still. Her dark hair and pale pink gown—early 1900s style—floated around her willowy frame like smoke. She didn't look anything like a serial killer, yet Henry Gillant had been at this long enough to know appearances didn't mean jack.
Dorothea Truman had murdered five children when she was alive, two of them her own, though none of their bodies had ever been found, even after Dorothea also disappeared. It was rumored she'd run off out of grief until her journal was found years later inside a nook behind the dumb waiter, confessing to the gruesome murders. After that, the mansion had a long history of children dying of mysterious causes, some simply disappearing until the last owners abandoned the property and whatever evil resided inside went dormant.
None of which would have been noticed by the Gillants. Hundred-year-old murders weren't exactly on their radar until local kids decided daring each other inside the creepy haunted estate would be fun and Henry's squad, the 666 Squad that specialized in extraordinary assignments got wind of it. So far two kids were dead and that was two too many.
Henry's palm tightened around the fire poker. Spirits that specifically targeted children were the sickest kind of monsters out there in Henry's opinion. It's the reason he had kept Cael out of this particular hunt, but apparently at nineteen, Jake was still close enough to a kid for the ghost to go after. Rotting carpet wrinkled beneath Henry's boot, making him slide a little on the wood beneath. It was going to be a personal pleasure to take her down.
Pearly laughter tinkled around them.
He's mine, he's mine.
And abruptly the ghost blinked out of existence and reappeared inches from Henry's face.
Prepared for the move, Henry swung, passing the kremloc dagger through her and nothing… not a damn thing happened. Shocked, Henry swiped out again, but the dagger stopped mid-swing as though it slammed against an invisible wall, vibrating in his fist. Light eyes turned to him just before he flew backwards into a door and Jake was jerked from his grasp.
Dad!
the kid screamed as the woman's arms enveloped him and they vanished within swirling tendrils of smoke and mist.
Two
Jake!
Henry pulled himself up off the floor, ran to where the ghost and Jake had disappeared. His chest tightened. She had taken Jake. She had his son.
What the hell kind of spirit didn't react to the supernatural quality of a kremloc blade? Did that mean a purifying ritual over her bones—when he found them—wouldn't work either? Henry was reeling, everything he knew about getting rid of ghosts shot to hell with this one. The only thing he knew for certain about Dorothea Truman was that her ghost was bound to the house somehow. Cael had pointed that out when one of the kids that made it out said the ghost raged at the doorway, but sizzled from sight when she attempted to follow him. So get Jake out of the mansion, and then find Dorothea's remains. Maybe she was a powerful enough ghost it would take one of the more potent exorcisms. Henry knew several by heart.
Rage and fear for his son threatened to buckle Henry's knees. Slow it down. Think it through. Jake needed him to be calm. Henry took a steadying breath, ran his hands through his hair. Okay, Dorothea couldn't leave the mansion, which meant she'd have to have stashed Jake within the estate somewhere. All Henry had to do was find him before Dorothea . . .
Gorge rose to his throat. Henry's hands curled into fists. He had to find Jake. Now.
~~~
Shh, shhhh, darling. All will be well. Everything's going to be just fine.
Soft lips pressed against Jake's temple. Something really stunk. His eyelids fluttered open, sight hazy, brain cloudy, until his vision came into focus on the corpse