Witching Moon Page 7

  There had to be a reason that none of the developers ever managed to carry out their plans. My guess was that it was related to the supernatural activity. Not only was this smack in the middle of the Worchester District, but the buildings reeked with negative energy.

  I stood up and walked toward the door of what had been the hospital proper, surprised to see that it wasn’t boarded over.

  I gazed up at the building. Four stories high, it was made of old brick. The windows had bars on them and I wondered if it was to keep the patients in, or something out. The double doors were weathered, the gray paint peeling off. There were windows in the top half, and I was surprised to see they were unbroken. I glanced at the rest of the windows along the wall and saw that those, too, were unbroken.

  I tried the knob, a worn nickel handle, but it was locked.

  Damn.

  If Trinity were here, he could have opened it up without a problem. But I seldom saw him during the day, and he usually didn’t respond to my phone calls until after four p.m. I wasn’t sure what he did or where he went, but it had been a noticeable pattern.

  I tried to jiggle the knob, testing how sturdy the lock was, but it didn’t budge.

  Licking my lips, I stared at the lock. I had picked a few in my day, and even though I didn’t pride myself on my skill, I wasn’t too bad with a set of picks. For a moment, I considered calling Ember and asking her to come help me, but I wasn’t sure what I was facing and I didn’t want to take up her time. Herne wouldn’t appreciate me pulling her off one of their cases. On the off chance that he had changed his habits, I gave Trinity a phone call, but he didn’t pick up.

  Finally, I decided I’d have to do it myself. I sorted through my bag and found my set of lock picks, which I always carried with me.

  For non-experts, picking a lock took longer than most people thought it should, especially one as sturdy as this one appeared to be.

  I glanced back at the bench, trying to gauge how heavy it was. Finally, I went over to it and dragged it over to the door so I could sit down while I was working. Luckily I was stronger than most humans, and stronger than a good number of the Fae, so I was able to drag the long stone seat over to the front of the door. A glance around showed no one watching me—no one living, at least—and so, unless I made a buttload of noise, no one should notice what I was doing.

  As I went to work picking the lock, I became aware that the hairs on my neck were standing on end. Whenever that happened, I knew there were spirits nearby. And while I was well aware that the buildings were haunted, this meant that the ghosts were also patrolling the grounds. I set down my lock picks and turned around, closing my eyes as I tried to get a read on them.

  A breeze swept past and I knew that it wasn’t natural. I could feel something attached to it—something that hadn’t been human. I probed deeper. A sweeping sense of malevolence slammed into me and I reeled back. Gasping, I steadied myself as I caught my breath.

  Whatever it was, it wasn’t human, which meant the situation was far more difficult than if I were dealing with a regular spirit. I wasn’t sure just what it was, though, and that was another sticking point.

  However, there were several things I could do.

  I could try and talk to it, but given it had body-slammed me with its anger made me less inclined to try that tack. I could leave, but I didn’t want to give into my fear. Or I could ignore it, hoping it would leave me alone.

  I quickly walled off access to my psyche, closing my third eye to unwanted scrutiny, and focused on strengthening my shields. Ever since Pandora had managed to charm me, I had been working on my boundaries and personal wards. A few times I had wondered if it was overkill, but every time I thought of her, it spurred me on even more. I couldn’t permanently erect them—that would be counterproductive to my magic—but I had learned how to slam them up at a moment’s notice.

  Going back to work on the lock, I fumbled around for about five minutes before hearing a click as the lock sprung open. Success!

  I put the lock picks away and slung the straps of my bag over my shoulder. Slipping my hand under my skirt, I slid Venom out of her sheath, holding the dagger firmly in hand. Not that daggers usually worked against ghosts, but if there were any beasties of the mortal sort inside, at least I’d have some protection.

  The door squeaked as I opened it, pushing it back slowly. Although it was bright daylight outside, inside the building the light was gloomy and dark. A good share of the windows had been boarded up, while the ones that were left clear had accumulated decades of grime on them, so the light streaming through cast only a pale glow.

  I was standing in what looked like a front office, facing a built-in counter that covered two-thirds of the back wall. To either side of the counter were doors. From what I could tell, this had been a receptionist’s area and waiting room.

  I slowly stepped inside and shut the door behind me, shivering as I headed over to the counter. I wanted to see if anything had been left behind. It wasn’t likely, given the government had been here, and the owners had probably done their best to hide any indications of wrongdoing, but it was still worth a look.

  The countertop was empty, covered with dust and cobwebs. The spiders had found themselves a home, judging by the multitude of webs. I wasn’t sure what they fed on until I saw a chink here and there in several of the windows. The glass wasn’t fully broken, but the cracks were big enough to let insects inside, and so of course the spiders would follow. As long as they stayed in their webs, I didn’t care. I didn’t especially like spiders, especially after my encounter with Arachana, but they didn’t frighten me.

  I opened the drawers, but they were empty. Any sign of human occupation was long gone. Dusting off the chair behind the counter, I sat down, trying to suss out the energy that was swirling around me.

  As I closed my eyes, I clutched Venom’s hilt, just in case. I kept my boundaries up as I slowly reached out, trying to sort out the various spirits that were walking around me.

  The building was thick with them, full apparitions, everywhere. They wandered the halls, wandered through the waiting room, wandered the grounds of the complex. I was trying to ferret out the one that had shrieked at me the day before, but I couldn’t sense her. Very slowly, I sent out a feeler, asking if anybody there wanted to talk.

  The next moment, I heard the sound of the door opening. I jerked, opening my eyes and looking at the outer door. It was still closed, but the door to my left of the counter had opened on its own. As I watched, it swung open even farther, squeaking on its hinges.

  I held my breath, but nothing more happened. As I slowly exhaled, starting to relax, the door suddenly slammed shut, shaking the walls.

  I jumped and stood up, my pulse racing. I thought about asking who was there, but decided I didn’t want to play that game. I had a feeling whoever was making the racket didn’t want to talk; they wanted to play scare-the-ghosthunter.

  Instead, I headed toward that door, walking steadily with my shoulders back. One hand on Venom, with my other hand, I reached inside my bag and pulled out a spray bottle filled with blessed water. I had gotten it from a priestess of Cerridwen in Annwn. It came from one of the sacred cauldrons that Cerridwen watched over and was good for temporarily stopping a spiritual attack.

  Ghost-Be-Gone, I thought with a nervous giggle.

  I approached the door, and decided the best defense was a good offense. I slid Venom through my belt so I could easily grab her, then took hold of the door handle and yanked it open, slamming the door back against the wall. As I stepped through, the door swung shut behind me. For a moment I panicked, wondering if it had locked on me, but when I tried the handle, it was still unlocked.

  I turned back to the hallway.

  The hall ran what looked like the length of the building—far enough so that I couldn’t see the end. There were doors all along the left side, and windows along the right. The windows were barred, and here, most of them hadn’t been boarded up.

/>   The bars probably had protected them enough so that the owners decided to cut corners. And the windows looked thick, probably double pane. They were most likely strong enough to withstand a brick.

  The hallway had been painted a jarring shade of mint green.

  Staring at the line of doors to my left, I knew I’d never make it through all of them today, unless I did a really quick search. Sighing, I headed over to the first one and opened it. The room was filled with shelves and filing cabinets. I propped the door open using a chair that had been left in the room, and pulled open one of the filing drawers. Empty. I took a quick look through several of the others at random. They were all empty, save for a sheet of paper here or there that had escaped someone’s notice. The shelves were empty as well. This had either been a supply room or a storage room for records. My bets were on the latter. I headed back out into the hall, closing the door behind me.

  The next four rooms looked to be exam rooms, but again, except for the exam tables and built-in cabinets, they were fairly empty. What was left was falling apart or covered in cobwebs and grime.

  I walked back into the hall, noticing that all the ghosts seemed to have vacated the surrounding area. I wasn’t feeling anybody right now, though I knew the building was teeming with them. Frustrated, I headed down the hallway until I came to a stairwell on my left, leading up. I could either stay and explore the rest of the first floor, although I had the feeling it would be more of the same, or I could head upstairs. Pulling out my flashlight, I set foot on the first stair.

  From above, around the corner of the landing, I heard a warning rumble. Bingo. There was something around, though I wasn’t sure whether it was on the physical or spiritual plane. I wasn’t sure which I preferred. I could deal easier with things on the spiritual plane, but creatures that were corporeal usually couldn’t eat your life force away.

  No, but they can stab you, a voice inside warned me.

  Ignoring my alarm bells, I decided to head up to the second floor. My fear was probably more PTSD than anything else, and so far, while the ghosts had put up a nasty front, their bark had been worse than their bite.

  Holding my flashlight in my left hand and slipping the spray bottle back into my bag, I leaned against the wall, holding onto the railing so that nothing could get past me on that side. I edged my way up the stairs, turning at the landing. As I approached the second floor, I saw a door at the top of the stairs. Hoping it wasn’t locked, I eased my way up the final few stairs and tried the doorknob.

  Chapter Seven

  It was unlocked.

  I yanked the door open and slipped inside, finding myself in another hallway similar to the one directly below me. Again, light streamed through the windows, while on my left there were doors running the length of the hallway. But something felt different. For one thing, there were benches along the outside wall, and I could actually see several ghosts here, some sitting on the benches and wistfully looking outside. Others seemed to be aimlessly wandering the halls. None of them seemed to notice me, and I gently reached out to try and touch their consciousness.

  Nothing. I could see them, but there was no substance behind their specters. They were an imprint on time and space, a retelling of things that it happened here, like a faded filmstrip.

  Most likely, the spirits had been so attached to this place—as often happened when confused people died—that they had become connected to this building and would forever wander the halls. But when I reached out, it was like I was viewing a hologram of what had happened.

  I ignored them, leaving them to their peace. Some spirits faded back into the energy pool this way, not moving on to incarnate again. Usually they were either fairly new, unaware of how to manage the transition between life and death, or old—ready to let go of physical life altogether. The young ones would get trapped in their death state, but eventually their consciousnesses would fade and pass. Sometimes they were spawned new again, while other times, they just stayed within the vast universal pool of consciousness.

  As I made my way down the hall, I had a sudden thought. This place was teeming with ghosts. I knew that three hundred people had died here, but it didn’t make sense that they’d all get caught. Yet, if there were this many ghosts in this building, how many were there in the other buildings? I frowned, looking around. Most of the spirits that I could sense had been patients. That much I could tell, and given when the hospital had been built, most of them would be male. Yet I was seeing women here as well.

  Could the fact that the facility was located in the Worchester District make a difference? This area was a magnet for ghosts, after all. But still, it didn’t add up. Even in some of the most haunted areas of the world, not everybody who died ended up trapped. Unless there was something keeping them here.

  Shaking my head, I slowly made my way down the hall. Some of the doors were open, some closed. From what I could tell, they had been patients’ rooms. Wanting more information, I walked over to one of the benches that was unoccupied by a spirit, and sat down. The phantoms here might not notice if I sat on them, but I would feel weird about it.

  I pulled out my phone again. I needed to know more about this place to understand the layout. I brought up the search again, and looked through the links until I found an article on the buildings of the United Coalition’s Home for Wounded Veterans.

  From what I found, two of the three buildings had been residence halls, open to returning soldiers as well as the wounded ones. They had served as transitional housing for veterans coming home from the war who didn’t have a place to go.

  This building had been the hospital proper. So when they had shut down the hospital, they had also shipped out those living in the transitional housing. That had probably dumped a number of veterans on the street, although by then the men would have found their way out of here. Except the majority of men had been severely traumatized—either physically or mentally—and they wouldn’t have been able to heal up and get a job right away.

  I was so busy looking at my phone that I lost track of what was going on around me. The next moment, a shriek to my right made me jump.

  I stuffed my phone in my bag and looked down the hallway. The voice had been familiar—the one I had heard before. And there she was. She looked like an army nurse, only she was covered in blood, and there was a bullet hole on her chest, surrounded by blood. I froze as she made a beeline directly for me.

  Help me, help me! Her voice echoed in my head. It’s after me! Don’t let it get me!

  I reeled as she burst through my body to the other side. A wave of icy frost swept over me, chilling me to the bone. She certainly wasn’t just a phantom, but a full-on spirit.

  I turned but couldn’t see her anymore, so I glanced over my shoulder to see if I could find out what was following her. Toward the end of the hallway, where it turned to the left, I thought I saw movement—a head peeking around the corner, perhaps.

  Heading in that direction, with Venom in one hand and the bottle of blessed water in the other, I was near the bend in the hall when another shout startled me. It came from the room that I had just passed, so I headed in.

  There was no light, so I had to make a decision what to keep hold of. I slid Venom into my belt and pulled out my flashlight to sweep the room. As the light hit the back wall, I saw what looked to be a word scrawled across the wall. My heart in my throat, I moved forward. Sure enough, the words “LEAVE THIS PLACE” had been written in shaky letters across the back wall. The coppery scent—blood?—was cloying and sweet in my nostrils. The blood was fresh, still dripping down the wall, and I backed up quickly, turning to race through the door as it slammed behind me.

  Back in the hall, I leaned against the wall, my heart pounding. What the hell? Things like this happened with hauntings, but usually in a place where people were living, not in some abandoned hospital. I turned back around and hesitantly touched the doorknob. I tried to open the door again, but now it was locked. I backed away, glancing over at the
windows that lined the wall. There, staring back at me, was the reflection of a clown—a terrifying, grotesque jester. He sneered at me, then laughed as his reflection in the window began to grow.

  A series of skittering noises came from around the bend in the hall. I whirled just in time to see a swarm of rats, racing down the hallway at me. Holding out my hand, I summoned my fire.

  Fire to flame, flame to fire,

  build and burn, higher and higher.

  Flare to life, take form in strike,

  attack now, fiery spike.

  A stream of fire came rushing off my hand, forming into a ball that traveled into the center of the rats and exploded. They scattered, singed by the sparks and flame. I took the opportunity to race back to the staircase as maniacal laughter filled the hallway.

  I didn’t look over my shoulder as I clattered down the stairs as fast as I could go. The laughter expanded to fill the hallway. I burst through the door leading into the reception room. Slamming through, I let it swing closed behind me, and kept on going toward the front door.

  As I opened the door, throwing it wide, I thought I could feel bony fingers clutching at my shoulder. I jerked out of its grasp, whatever it was, and pulled the door shut behind me. As I stumbled away, I turned to look at the building. It was lit up with an eerie green glow. The entire building seemed alive, where before it had felt dead.

  Crap, I woke something up.

  My hands shaking, I sat down on the bench and pulled out my lock picks, working to lock the door again. I wasn’t sure what good it would do, and my instinct was to bolt and run, but I had to make certain that none of those things could get out on a physical level.

  As I worked, holding the door shut with one hand and working the locks with the other, I could feel something trying to turn the knob from inside. My stomach lurching, I refocused my attention and finally the deadbolt shifted and turned. I was about to take my hand off the knob when something on the other side grabbed it and turned, twisting, trying to open it up. Stuffing my lock picks in my bag, I let go of the knob and slowly backed away, keeping my eyes on the door as I made my way back through the gate, shutting it behind me.