Forsake Page 12

  Conor O’Reilly. Age 30. Unless this was a fake license—and she didn’t think it was, given the circumstances—he really had been lying about his age to her. That disappointed Nicole, though she wasn’t sure why, since he’d been lying about so much already.

  She shut the wallet and put it back where she’d found it, then grabbed her backpack, making sure that her money, passport, and ID were in it. The chances of her getting back to the hotel to get the rest of her luggage were slim. She was just grateful she’d thought to put the wad of cash in her pocket before leaving the hotel. She jumped to her feet, putting the backpack on.

  “Can you help me find what I’m looking for?” Nicole asked the ghost. She couldn’t see him anymore, but she still felt him there.

  “Depends on what you’re looking for.”

  “Well, it’s complicated. I’m sure you know about the secret museum here. I need to get an effigy from it so I can protect my best friend. The hounds are hunting her.”

  The ghost didn’t respond for several moments, and Nicole started to worry that he wouldn’t.

  “How could an effigy help your friend?” he finally asked.

  “I’m hiding a prophecy back home that says she’ll be the only creature capable of destroying hounds. The hounds don’t know it’s her. As soon as they do, they’ll begin hunting her. In order to save her from them, I need to find and finish making an effigy. I don’t have enough time to make my own from scratch, so a friend told me I’d be able to get one here.”

  The ghost sighed. “Yes, I know where the entrance is.” He paused for a moment then said, “I can take you to it, but I won’t be able to follow you inside. I’m not permitted there.”

  “Why not?” She knew she needed to hurry and get to the museum before Conor returned, but if there was something keeping the ghost out of that museum, it might want to keep her out as well. The more she knew about the place, the better protected she would be.

  “I created the museum. My friend, St. John, and I robbed graveyards as a hobby. We brought many corpses back and put them in the museum. Most of the ghosts had already left their bodies permanently, but some hadn’t, and they followed us here. They won’t allow me near the room now that I’m a ghost as well.”

  “Will they let me go inside?” Nicole asked.

  “I’m not sure. We’ll have to find out.”

  “So you’ll help me?”

  “Yes, I will. If what you say is true, and I suspect it is, then helping you will help me redeem myself for the things I did during life.”

  “Oh, thank you so much. Okay, we should go then. We have to hurry—Conor might come back at any time.”

  “Yes, he could.”

  Nicole tried to awaken her phone again to check the time—she wanted to know how long it had been since Conor had left, but it wouldn’t turn on. Her battery was completely dead. Hoping she wouldn’t need it later, she tucked it into her backpack and followed the ghost.

  After walking only a few paces, he stopped and glanced at her. “I need you to turn that torch off.”

  “Why?”

  “First, it makes it hard for me to see where I’m going—my sight isn’t the same as it was when I was alive. And second, they won’t allow it in the museum anyway.”

  “I won’t be able to tell where I’m going—I can’t see in the dark.”

  The ghost reached for her. “Then I will guide you.”

  Nicole hesitated a moment before turning off the flashlight and putting it in her backpack. “Okay, ready.”

  She felt when the ghost touched her arm and started pulling her forward. It was like being touched by a rotted corpse. He was tangible, soft, squishy. She tried to hide the revulsion that the crossed over her, but was unsuccessful.

  The ghost chuckled humorlessly. “I’m sorry—if I could help you in any other way, I would.”

  “Didn’t you attempt to destroy the museum before you died?” Nicole wasn’t sure how else to word her question. She couldn’t very well mention suicide to him. Killing himself obviously hadn’t done a whole lot for him if he was still hanging around.

  “I did, but I didn’t do a good enough job. I’m not the only ghost here who can touch physical objects. Many of the others put things back together while I was busy trying to figure out why I couldn’t fully quit this sphere.”

  Nicole’s foot bumped into the bottom step, and she started climbing behind the ghost. “What is your name?” she whispered, realizing they needed to be quieter now—no telling where Conor was.

  “Neville.”

  She followed Neville up the stairs, slowly adjusting to the feel of his hand on her arm. The kitchen was completely black, just like the stairs and cellar had been. Neville led her as best he could through the tables and chairs, but several times, Nicole bumped into something, jumping each time. Her nerves were raw.

  The sounds didn’t seem to bother the ghost, but Nicole suspected that not much did.

  Neville led Nicole straight through the drawing room, front entry, and into the second dining room to the secret passage she and Conor had discovered earlier. He walked her up five steps before pausing, motioning to the wall in front of him. Nicole could finally see—there were windows at the top of the staircase, allowing a little bit of moonlight through.

  “Push this wall,” Neville said.

  Nicole realized with annoyance that she and Conor hadn’t checked the staircase. In their surprise at finding it, they hadn’t thought that it might have a secret passage itself. She pushed the wall, cringing as a loud, grinding noise filled the air.

  “I can only go with you to the entrance. But I’ll tell you what to look for where the effigy is concerned. Hopefully, one is still in place.”

  “What do I do about light?” Nicole asked.

  “At the bottom of the steps, you’ll find several torches and matches. The torches are ready to be lit—I’ll help you find them.”

  “Okay,” Nicole said. “I’m ready.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Neville led Nicole down a new set of stairs that were also made of stone. The light they’d enjoyed briefly from the moon disappeared until it was pitch black again. Her eyes did not adjust, and she trailed one hand on the side of the tunnel, the other clenched into a fist. She wished she could have something to hold on to with that hand, but there’s no way she would reach out and grab Neville’s arm. Having him holding her arm was enough.

  The stairs continued on for so long that Nicole lost count. “How did you dig this?” she whispered.

  “Much of it was already in place—we simply improved upon it. Back in the day, people who lived here frequently needed a place to hide.”

  They finally reached the bottom, but not before Nicole’s legs were turning into jelly. Even after they stopped descending, her body felt like it was still bouncing down those steps. It was disorienting. Neville mumbled to himself, obviously searching for something—Nicole figured a torch. Once he found it, he turned and placed it in Nicole’s hand.

  It was heavy and had a solid grip. She appreciated that.

  Next, Neville handed Nicole what she assumed was a box of matches. She was surprised to find that the box felt modern—like a normal one. She wondered how Neville had gotten his hands on the matches, but decided not to ask.

  She lit the torch, wincing at the brightness of the flames, then glanced around, trying to get her bearings. The steps were steep and stopped just outside a door that was rounded at the top and made of what looked like a reinforced type of metal.

  Nicole glanced at Neville, trying not to stare now that she had better lighting. He looked similar to what he had probably looked like not long after death. His hair was patchy, his skin blotchy and slightly rotted-looking. She did her best not to make him uncomfortable. After all, he’d pretty much saved her bacon.

  “These ghosts . . .” she began. “Are they friendly? Will they hurt me?”

  “They are neither good nor bad. They could help you or stop you, de
pending on their moods.”

  “How many are there?”

  Neville glanced upward as if trying to remember. “Six. Maybe seven. You have to realize, it’s been a very long time since I’ve entered that room.”

  “How should I approach them?”

  “Go inside the museum, then stop and don’t take a step farther. Tell them who you are and what you’re doing. They’ll then decide if they want to help you.”

  Nicole tried to push her fear aside. She realized she was wasting precious time by not continuing while Conor was still gone, but the thought of entering a museum full of dead bodies and being surrounded by that many ghosts was unnerving and unsettling. Especially if these were beings that could move things, as Neville had insinuated they were.

  She turned back to him. “Thank you so much for your help. I really appreciate it.”

  Neville glanced at his feet, acting a little bashful about her gratitude. “I’m just glad that I could finally assist someone. Most everyone who has visited the manor has been here to damage or loot it.”

  “It’s a beautiful place. Thank you again.”

  Nicole gripped the torch tightly in her hand, staring at the heavy door. She wondered if the ghosts already knew she was about to enter. Probably.

  Not waiting a moment longer, she clasped the doorknob, twisting it until the door swung open. She sent one last glance at Neville, then stepped into the room on the other side. The door slammed shut behind her, making her jump.

  Nicole opened her mouth to tell the ghosts who she was and why she was there, but the room before her made her lose all train of thought.

  Massive winged demons carved out of onyx and basalt lined the walls. On the other side of the demons were mummies—so many of them, she couldn’t count. Most weren’t in coffins or anything like that. And then there were dead bodies, not even wrapped, just lying on tables. They looked so perfect, she couldn’t tell if they were made of wax or were real humans. If they were actual dead people, how had they been preserved so well?

  Realizing she was staring with her jaw hanging open, she snapped her mouth shut, remembering why she was there.

  “Hello? My name is Nicole Williams. I’m here to get an effigy that will be used to save my best friend’s life. She’s being hunted by the Hounds of Tindalos, and as one of her protectors, I need to perform a spell on an enchanted object that will draw the hounds away from her.”

  She wished she’d had more time to perfect her purpose for being there. Her argument was weak and stupid.

  At first, nothing happened. Then Nicole heard and felt the sound of rushing water. Her hair stirred around her face, making her wish she’d redone her ponytail before entering the museum. She tucked the strands of hair behind her ears, watching for any sign of ghosts.

  The first one appeared just to her left. It was a man, leaning against one of the stone demons. He stared at her for several moments, then looked across the way from him. Nicole’s eyes followed his gaze, and she saw three women standing there. They returned her stare.

  A fifth person appeared, this one also a man, standing directly in front of her. He smiled at her. “Welcome to our museum,” he said. His voice was lilting and musical—almost a mix between Irish and Italian. It was beautiful.

  All five people were dressed in old-fashioned clothing, though Nicole couldn’t tell from what era—she didn’t know enough about it. The man who was leaning against the carving straightened and took a step toward her. He had an angry expression, but when he noticed her looking at him, he pushed it away. “You seek an effigy?” he asked.

  The three women chuckled. “That’s what she said, isn’t it?” one of them asked. “She’s pretty. And still innocent. I vote we help her.”

  The first man grunted, then looked at the second man. “What do you think, Angelo?” he asked.

  Angelo smiled again at Nicole. “I say we tell the hounds she’s here.”

  Nicole shook her head. “Please, please don’t do that. If they knew, they would kill me.”

  Angelo laughed. “I could use some entertainment.”

  The first man grunted again. “Yes, entertainment would be fun. But we’ve always known she would come.”

  Nicole looked at him. “You did?”

  He continued. “We decided years ago to help her. Or do you not remember?”

  Nicole couldn’t help but feel a little hope at his words. Help her? She liked the sound of that.

  The three women agreed with the man, and the second woman spoke. “I’ll take her there now.”

  Angelo’s smile disappeared from his face. “We all have to agree on the course of action.”

  The first man shook his head. “No, we don’t.”

  Angelo sneered, his glare directed at Nicole. “They need to know she’s here. It’s not fair if they don’t.”

  And with that, he disappeared.

  Nicole nearly dropped the torch and fled. She looked at the three women and the man, her knees wobbly and her heart thumping in her chest. They were all stepping closer to her. “Please, please, help me.”

  “Oh, we will,” the third woman said. She looked at the man. “David—” She said it Dah-veed “—how about you show her the way? We will guard the door.”

  David nodded and turned to Nicole. “Follow me.”

  He started down the center of the museum, not looking in either direction, leading her away from the main door.

  Nicole did her best to keep up with him, unable to take in her surroundings fully because of how much was there. Old headstones from all around the world filled the edges of the room with different languages written on them, all made of different materials. Several long tables lined with human skulls ranging in all shapes and sizes. Many of the heads were still covered in skin and hair, while others were just the skulls.

  Nicole gasped when she saw heads of even babies and small children. She put her free hand to her mouth, unable to stop staring at those heads. The poor little bodies—not resting in their graves, in peace.

  The spirit led her into another room, this one full of paintings and statues, many of which were very amateurish. They all depicted scenes of gore and blood. Several of them featured the demons that lined the museum’s first room. The light from Nicole’s torch licked the edges of the room, showing sarcophagi, coffins, large white crosses, and several other things that had obviously been stolen from graveyards. A large, elaborate pedestal had a leather-bound book on top, protected by glass. Nicole itched to know what was on the pages of that book.

  The next room was full of all sorts of jewelry and precious items. The room after that had only one object in it—a jewelry case that hung from the wall. It was surrounded by a multitude of candles, many of which were burned out completely.

  For the first time since leaving the other ghosts, David spoke. “The shade amulet used to hang there. It was stolen back by its rightful owner.”

  Shade amulet? It was obviously important if it was the only object Neville and his friend had kept in the museum. Nicole opened her mouth to ask more about it, but decided not to. The less she knew, the better.

  Finally, they entered a room that had several tables in it. On top of these tables were what Alexander had sent her here for—small dolls made of what looked like human parts.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  David stopped and motioned to the tables that lined the room. “You’ll find effigies of various completion here. Choose what you want. You may only remove one, and it must be returned when it is no longer needed.”

  Nicole nodded. “How do I know which ones are closer to being finished than the others?”

  He looked at her, an eyebrow raised, then looked back at the little effigies on the tables. “The ones that are in pieces are less finished, obviously. Finished effigies will have hair, skin, and clippings from the person they represent. Choose one that is whole, but does not have hair or clippings attached to it.”

  Nicole stepped closer to the tables, revulsion and di
sgust welling up inside her. She couldn’t understand what Neville had seen in these awful things. She scanned the effigies, her eyes landing on one that looked to be what she needed. It was made of a very well-preserved forearm of a small adult. The skin was too old-looking to have been a young person, and that relieved Nicole greatly.

  Fingers were attached to the bottom with twine, and at the top was a kidney, representing the head. Nicole closed her eyes, wishing she didn’t have to be there, wishing she didn’t have to touch the thing. She couldn’t believe how horrible this place was, how satanic. It made her want to throw up, to turn and run from the room. Instead, she pointed at the effigy.

  “This one looks like what I need,” she said.

  “Very well. You may take it.”

  Nicole wondered how she would do that and how intact the forearm was. No blood was visible, no gore. She was grateful for that. She refused to look at the fingers that were at the bottom of it.

  “How do I remove it without damaging it?” she asked.

  David pointed back to the door they’d come through. Burlap sacks were tacked to the wall on the left side of it.

  Realizing she didn’t have much time, Nicole rushed to the wall, grabbed a burlap bag that looked to be about the right size, then stepped back to the table.

  She was about to pick up the effigy when David grabbed her arm. “The hounds are on their way,” he said. “You have mere minutes. You’d better hurry.”

  Not letting herself think about what she was doing, Nicole grabbed the forearm and put it inside the bag. She tied the top, then rushed and grabbed another burlap bag and then another and another. She triple and quadruple bagged the effigy, then grabbed her torch from where she’d placed it in a sconce on the wall. She motioned for David to lead the way.