The Seekers: Into the Light Page 5

  "I'm not sure.” I shrugged. “She could be afraid. She might not want to let go. She may just want to stay here where she feels safe. With what she knows. She might believe their love will be forbidden on the other side as well.” I bit into a stale donut and sighed. “I just need her to talk to me."

  "Right. Any thoughts?” Trip was eyeing Mikey's cigarette with longing.

  "We'll go outside and have a smoke, and I'll think it over.” I grabbed my coffee cup and topped it off. “Just let me get dressed."

  The porch of the farmhouse was gorgeous. It wrapped around the entire house and overlooked a large chunk of property. The leaves blazed in all their glory—rich shades of red and orange and yellow. Margaret had lined large and small pumpkins along the front and interspersed them with bails of hay and Indian corn. The effect was pure New England Halloween. Something from Martha Stewart Living.

  I crushed my cigarette out on my boot, afraid of igniting the hay. “I think I have to sit in that room and force contact. She wants to talk to me now.” I sighed and allowed Trip to pull me close and wrap his arms around me. “Maybe, once I can get her to open up, I can convince her to go. I can't even imagine how many opportunities she's had to cross over."

  "I don't like when they hijack you like that, Babe. It sucks. I'm always scared..."

  I stayed quiet and waited. He stroked my back and warmed my frozen body.

  "I'm just always afraid that, one of these times, I won't get you back. You won't be you any more."

  To be honest I'd had the same fear once or twice. So, I told Trip what I tell myself: “I'm protected and surrounded, always. I'm guided and watched over. No ghost is a match for guides, deceased loved ones, and about four billion angels. That includes the Archangels, by the way,” I boasted good-naturedly.

  "Yeah, yeah. It's just ... I can't see your help. I believe you that they're around you. I'd just like to really know it. I'm not a psychic, Martee. If I can't see it, I have a hard time accepting it."

  I kissed him on each sleepy eyelid and smiled. “And you call yourself a ghost hunter? I guess you'll just have to trust me on this one."

  In the bedroom, I sat in Kimi's seat and started to rock. I'm ready whenever you are, I called out in my mind. You don't have to be afraid of me. I can help you get back what you lost.

  She came on a breath. One moment not there, the next taking all the energy in the room. The temperature dropped a good twenty degrees. My body went cold, and my mind kind of stuttered. She wasn't just drawing energy from her surroundings—she was siphoning it out of me too. I'd experienced it before, but still wasn't used to it. If anything, it's unsettling to feel your life force wane in an instant.

  "It's about time.” I laughed aloud. “And can you leave me a little juice to run on? You're killing me here."

  I received a graceful nod in reply, and she settled in front of me like a feather. She was spectacularly beautiful. Long, lean, and graceful. Beautiful skin and a curtain of hair the color of coal. Her eyes were large and soulful. And haunted.

  "How did they kill you?” She'd taken so much energy I was reverting to speaking out loud. I didn't have the power to project my thoughts clearly.

  Her lips remained pressed together—not a talker. But I was suddenly barraged with a sea of chaotic images. A heavy burlap sack was forced over my head, and I could feel its abrasive texture. Immediately my heart sped, and my breath froze in my lungs. I was brutally forced forward over rocky, uneven ground I couldn't see. I stumbled, fell, tore open the flesh of my knees, and was righted with a lot of force. Then I was flying into open air. Nothing to grab, no contact with earth. A fast, yet torturously long trip over the edge—and then sudden impact, a flash of pain, and nothingness. For hours. Then the realization that the world was still around me but I was no longer of it. That I could see my lover and speak to him, but he could not hear or answer me.

  I wondered briefly how many times a day she “died.” Relived that horror. Played it like a movie loop.

  She had witnessed his pain, his grief, his rage. She had seen that he suspected the brothers, but they claimed tragedy. She had witnessed his world spiraling out of control and the secret glee of her attackers, but could do nothing to make herself known. She was too weak and too young of a spirit to come through.

  I had enough time to suck in a breath, and then the next wave of pictures hit me. My head throbbed as painfully as an open wound, and I rode out the dizziness that invaded.

  The first brother, Justin—the name came—fell off his horse and was trampled. The horse had been spooked. Kimi had done the spooking. The second oldest, Judd, fell from a ladder doing roof repairs for his father. The ladder had tipped. The force had been Kimi. The stronger she grew, the faster she struck out. The final brother—the eldest, James—was impaled by a weather vane. The storm that caused the tragedy was not nearly as strong as most storms in these parts, but Kimi had given it some help.

  "You got them all.” I was filled with a mixture of horror and a sense of justice. They had deserved it, each of them, but it hadn't fixed a damn thing.

  She nodded, and then sent me the impressions of Jeremiah's death. My chest swelled with an ache that was overwhelming. An invisible raw, empty wound pulled at my breast. To see him take his own life had tortured her soul further. Made her more desperate. Now he was gone from her, or so she thought. He was not here for her to sit by, watch, or touch gently. Not here. He was there and she couldn't go.

  "But you can go,” I muttered. “You could have gone a million times by now."

  She ignored me, and hit me with round four. I closed my eyes and braced myself. My head felt like it would split open, and I could feel my rapid pulse in my temples. I wasn't prepared for the gush of erotic images that came.

  Strong, loving hands snaked up my thighs, parted me, and invaded me. An eager mouth explored each inch of my flesh, paying particular detail to the most sensitive places. Heating the flesh behind my ears with breath, the back of my neck with warm kisses. A shiver passed through me that had nothing to do with how cold I was.

  I felt Jeremiah's thickness slide into me. Felt blissful friction over each inch of the slippery slope he climbed. I heard the murmurs, the sighs, and the tender words. There was so much more than sex. So much love and friendship. My eyes grew moist, and my breath hitched in my lungs. The hands were everywhere, savoring and touching each part of me. Relishing each instant of contact as we moved together in the perfect rhythm of soul mates. A forceful erotic pulse started deep inside of me, rushing me toward a staggering climax.

  "Stop!” I yelled, startling myself at the force of my voice.

  I was trembling and wet between the legs. Residue of psychic orgasm pulsed through me, and I wiped my leaking eyes.

  "I understand,” I said, gaining control.

  I did understand. It was so very close to what I experienced every time I laid down and took Trip into my body. Her images were more intense because they were tainted with years and years of yearning and pain.

  "Where are you? Your body, I mean?"

  She pointed out the bedroom window, and then was gone. I didn't even see her go.

  The door flew open and Trip came rushing in, followed by Mikey. His face was a mask of white fear.

  "What happened?” Before I could answer, he dropped to his knees and gathered me into his arms. His heart was beating so forcefully that it masked the beat of my own. He was scared.

  "I'm fine. Calm down. I just had to exercise a little control.” I pushed him back gently, smoothed his hair, and kissed him. “It's okay. I promise. I know what to do."

  He pushed out a huge breath and slumped. “Great. Next time you figure out what to do, could you let me know without giving me a heart attack?"

  I barely had the energy to laugh, but I did. “I promise to give that a try."

  * * * *

  The five of us tramped through the same rocky, uneven ground in my vision. The woods surrounding the house were dense and silent. N
o bird sounds, no squirrels, nothing to indicate presence of life.

  Mikey smacked his cell phone and muttered a curse. “I can barely get reception out here. Why am I calling Margaret?” He took out a cigarette, and Liz smacked it out of his hand.

  "You trying to start a fire? There's about a bazillion dead leaves on the ground, idiot!"

  He turned nearly purple, but held his tongue. She had a point.

  I held Trip's hand and soaked in the contact. I was still weak and exhausted but, after a Coke and a few aspirins, was up for the trek.

  "I need to know if Jeremiah's buried on the grounds. A lot of times they had private cemeteries on the larger farms."

  Mikey nodded and then plugged his ear. “Yes! Hello?” He waved us ahead while he tried to get Margaret to the phone.

  "It's up ahead?” Trip asked, his eyes searching the thick stand of trees for a break.

  "I think it's just past these trees. She showed me the whole thing.” I shivered. “It was awful. Horrible. I still can't believe what some people are capable of. And for what reason? Because they were in love!” I could feel myself tensing and pushed the anger back.

  "Different times, Babe. It isn't right but, sadly, it was common. I don't get it either but we were raised to be PC."

  "PC, my ass,” I spat. “We were raised to be human."

  Trip shrugged and pulled me against him. “Let's find her and get this over with. It's Halloween. I'm ready to go home and hide under the covers with you and tell you campfire tales. Then I can comfort you with my manly ways."

  I grinned. I was ready for home, too.

  Mikey came running up panting, “Margaret says it's on the east side of the house. All you can see from the house is a grove of trees, but she said it's on the other side."

  We reached the edge of the field and picked our way carefully through the brush. The dead leaves crunched under our feet, and twigs snapped as loud as gunshots. A branch smacked me across the face and drew blood.

  "Shit!” I wiped my face and tried to calm down.

  "It's up here,” Liz called. “I can see where the land drops off."

  The drop-off was steep and led to a shallow river peppered with rocks and boulders. I recognized the spot immediately.

  "That's the spot, but where's the body?” Missy asked.

  I closed my eyes, cleared my mind, and got my answer. “We need to climb down. It should be right under that oak."

  "Who buried her?” Liz sighed.

  "Jeremiah did. Alone. He buried her under this tree because they had picnicked here once."

  "Sad. So sad.” Missy was the first to start picking her way down the incline. If we stayed to the less steep side, we would make it down without injuries.

  It occurred to me that we looked like a funeral procession. Because we were.

  It took a few hours, but when we were sure we had all of her, I laid her bones in a beautiful pillowcase. I had found it in Margaret's linen closet and couldn't even guess what it might cost. It was buttery soft and trimmed with lace—perfect for transporting her remains.

  "Let's go” I groaned. I was starting to waver, my energy completely depleted. I caught Trip studying my face, and forced a smile.

  We trudged up the steep hill back toward the house. Mikey's phone kept bleeping with annoying persistence.

  "It's Margaret,” he said. “Third call in an hour. She's dying to know if we'll be done in time for her big shindig tonight. Persistent little woman."

  "If this works out the way I hope it will, we shouldn't be much longer.” I cradled Kimi's remains in my arms and tried not to think about what I was holding. Holding bones was bad enough, but holding the bones of a murder victim was even worse.

  "I'll call her when we're done,” he said. “I can always blame it on bad reception."

  We were a sad-looking group as we finally staggered into the family cemetery. There they were, six stained and weathered tombstones, crooked as bad teeth. The whole family. I stopped at each one and studied the names. I felt a pulse of rage as I stood before the stones of the murderous brothers but moved on. Finally, I stood before Jeremiah Gentry's grave and spoke aloud.

  "We have her here, Jeremiah. We're finally going to let you be together. On this side and on your side.” I knew intuitively that Kimi was nearby listening. She wasn't showing herself, but was very aware of the proceedings. Her presence registered with the fine hairs along the back of my neck and arms.

  I turned to the team. “Ready to break a couple dozen laws?"

  My question was met with nervous laughter and sad smiles. We were. It was time.

  Trip dug into the hard earth with his collapsible spade. “This is going to take until next Halloween,” he grunted. “This ground is like cinder block."

  Liz took off back toward the house and returned quickly with a sturdy shovel. “Give this a try,” she said, blushing. “I saw it last night when we were poking around."

  "You're the best Girl Friday ever,” I said.

  After what seemed like forever, Trip hit wood. It was spongy and rotten, but still in one piece after all these years. “I'll let you do the honors,” he said with a grin.

  Now that we were nearing the end, I felt a fresh burst of energy. I dropped into the now open grave and gently pried back some wood where Trip's shovel had broken through. “Here we go,” I said to myself. “Let's get you two back together."

  Without letting myself think, I gently placed each bone from the pillowcase into the plain wooden coffin. Each one made a gentle clunk as it fell home. When I was finally done, I closed my eyes and sent Kimi my message.

  The pain is gone now. The evil done to you is gone. Jeremiah is gone. Now you must go. If you go, you can be with him. No one can keep you apart on the other side. I make you this promise, Kimi. It's time to go home to him.

  After a quick prayer and a blessing, I grabbed Trip's offered hand. He hoisted me out and pulled me into a tight embrace. Mikey set to work filling the hole and made a quick job of it with some help from Liz and Missy.

  "Think it worked?” Trip asked, his face wary but hopeful. “I thought that resting of the bones business was myth."

  All eyes were on me. The team was eager to be done with the case and know that it had ended well. Hopeful the right thing had been done for Kimi. I took a deep breath and stayed very still. With a quick nod and a silent prayer of thanks, I started toward the house.

  "When someone peacefully passes over, I don't think they really care where the body is. In this case, I think it's more ceremonial. We're giving her what she was denied—letting them be together on this side. And, thankfully, I think it worked. I think we're done here."

  On the edge of the trees, I turned for one last look at Jeremiah's grave. The one he now shared with Kimi. They appeared like a hologram, and I smiled. Oblivious to us, or their surroundings, they were locked in the kind of an embrace you would expect after countless years of separation.

  Trip was staring, slack jawed, at the site.

  "What?” I asked, but I already knew the answer.

  "Did you see that?” he stammered. “Or am I running on not enough sleep and too much Martee?"

  "I saw it.” I laughed. “Welcome to my world."

  "Shit. I need something to ... what do you call it? Ground me! I need something to ground me."

  Success had me feeling playful. The rest of the team had disappeared through the grove of trees. I reached out and took hold of Trip firmly, hitting below the belt. “I think I can ground you.” I heard the huskiness in my own voice. I suddenly needed to be as close to him as possible.

  "You're screwing with me, right? Messing with my addled brain?” Despite his words, his face lit up with expectation.

  "Not at all. Sometimes you need an expert to help in these situations.” I sank to my knees and pulled down his zipper. In the quiet of the country, it was clearly audible.

  I took his cock in my mouth, and it jumped to meet my tongue. Eager and ready, the skin was smooth
as silk. He smelled like laundry detergent, outdoors, and man. I licked slowly, savoring each second of contact. Joyous at the intimacy we were allowed. The closeness we couldn't be denied.

  I paused to kiss gently the insides of his thighs, his hipbones, the fine line of hair below his belly button. Allowing my hands to continue the rhythm my mouth had started.

  "Dear God, you have to ground me more often,” he said softly, gently playing his hand through my hair. He traced the outline of my jaw and swept his fingertips across my closed eyelids. His touch was so light it felt like butterflies on my skin.

  I didn't answer, but murmured sweet sounds of contentment as I sucked slowly on his cock. The salty taste of the beginning of his end played across my tongue. I speeded up slightly, relaxing my throat and watching his face. The deeper I took him the more beautiful he looked. When he came, I drank him in. My eyes absorbed each flicker and twitch that floated across his face. He's mine in more ways than one. That brought me a smile.

  After I made him presentable again, I kissed him. I took his arm and we started back. “What are you grinning about?” he asked. The house was finally in sight, and I could see the others loading equipment into the van. Mikey was on the cell phone. Most likely telling Margaret all was clear.

  "Just happy, I guess. Happy for them. Happy for us. Happy that the only ghosts Margaret will be able to offer her guests tonight will be those of legend and lore."

  "All that time she wasted here.” He shook his head. “And what those boys did to her. All that pain and violence. Even though it all worked out, it's hard to believe. She died because of love."

  I took his hand and told him the truth: “In the end, it all comes down to love."

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  About the Author

  Sommer Marsden lives in Maryland with her family and her red wiener dog. When she's not writing smut, she can be found walking the fat dog, watching movies, hanging out with her kids, baking, reading, emailing, or in the downward dog position (that would be yoga). She has been published extensively in print anthologies and online. She loves to hear from readers and writers and can be contacted at hot4sommer@yahoo.com. She invites you to visit smutgirl.blogspot.com/ and www.freewebs.com/sommermarsden for updates, blogs, and general chatter. Or if you would like to be her friend, go to www.myspace.com/sommermarsden.