House of Whispers Page 9

  She jumped down the last few steps. Gasping, she dashed to the front door.

  Locked. “No!” She panted, tearing at the knob with all her strength. “Oh, no!”

  “You are not thinking of leaving before our party begins, are you?” Amy whirled around. Angelica stood watching her.

  “What evil have you brought into this house? What have you done?” Amy cried.

  “Only what you have forced me to do,” Angelica replied.

  Amy could not make her voice work. She could only stare as Angelica closed her eyes and raised her hands over her head—just as she had in the garden.

  A breeze swirled through the room, setting the chandelier in motion. When Angelica opened her eyes again, Amy’s knees buckled.

  Angelica’s eyes were no longer green. They were black. Pure black.

  The panels of the door dug into Amy’s back as she pressed herself against it. “It cannot be!” she moaned.

  “Ah, but it can,” Angelica said. The black pits of her eyes glistened. There was no mercy in those eyes, no softness in the lovely, sculpted lines of her face.

  She was cold. Pitiless. Evil.

  “I told you that All Hallows’ Eve was my favorite holiday,” Angelica said. “As it is for my guests. They expect a special treat on that day, and I always give them one.”

  She smiled. Her teeth seemed longer than usual, so bright and sharp. “Tonight,” she continued, staring straight at Amy, “I will give them . . . you.”

  Chapter

  18

  Angelica gestured to the top of the staircase.

  Amy’s gaze shot up—and she stifled a scream.

  A column of thick black smoke stretched from the top stair to the ceiling.

  She is going to give me to that hideous thing!

  “That column holds my spirits, my friends, my guides. Some of them have been with me since I was very young. Once, I was like you. Frightened of the power inside me. But not anymore.”

  She is so cold, so calm, Amy thought. She is chatting with me as if we are at a party together. And she is planning to kill me!

  “I am very disappointed in you,” Angelica told Amy, a slight frown marring her beautiful face.

  “W-why?” Amy stuttered. Keep the conversation going, she told herself. It would give her more time to find a way to escape.

  “I was so looking forward to having another powerful Pierce woman in the family,” Angelica explained. “We could have done so much together. You have missed an incredible opportunity by turning against me.”

  “To be evil?” she asked. Amy knew the door behind her was locked. And if she tried to run past Angelica, the spirits could swoop down on her.

  “There is great power in evil,” Angelica replied. “Oh, Amy. You could have had anything you wanted.”

  Amy nodded, pretending she was listening hard to every word.

  Angelica smiled. “Well, anything but David,” she added. “I am saving him for Hannah.”

  “Hannah!” Amy cried, her full attention now on her cousin.

  “When she gets older, of course,” Angelica said. “They are perfect for each other.”

  “How can you say that?” Amy demanded.

  “The Hathaways are very wealthy,” Angelica told her. “David will marry Hannah and bring that fortune to the Fears.”

  “Even if you kill me, David would never marry Hannah,” Amy protested.

  “David will have no say about it. I can easily control him,” Angelica answered. “He will marry Hannah, and I will make sure he does exactly what I want him to do.”

  “It will never work.” Amy knew David better than Angelica did. She knew how strong he truly was. How much death he had seen and survived.

  Angelica stared at Amy with her black eyes—and Amy felt pain shoot through her brain. “Oh yes, Amy. David will do what I tell him.”

  Angelica leaned close. Amy felt waves of coldness coming off her cousin’s body. “You have great potential. But you lack the courage to use it. When my spirits finish with you, your power will belong to me.”

  “I know you killed them all,” Amy whispered. “Nellie, Bernice, Chantal—”

  “Of course,” Angelica replied. “Death pleases my spirits. And it adds to my power.”

  She reached out and ran her fingertip along Amy’s cheek. Amy had to clench her fists to keep from pulling away from that cold touch.

  “Is it such a surprise, my dear?” Angelica asked. “I killed Chantal because you would not listen to me. You kept finding ways to see David. So I had my spirits kill Chantal and give you that vision. Most people would have run screaming from David. But not you. You are too stubborn.”

  Angelica glanced behind her at the column of black smoke waiting at the top of the stairs. “Perhaps it is just as well. Now my spirits can feast on you. They will enjoy you. And then I will have your power for my own.”

  Angelica half-turned, and Amy knew her one chance had come. She darted to the right, heading toward the back of the house.

  But Angelica was too quick. Much too quick. She grabbed Amy’s arm in a grip that numbed it to the elbow.

  Amy struggled, kicking and scratching, as her cousin pulled her to the stairs.

  “Foolish girl,” Angelica taunted. “It is too late for you. Much too late.”

  When they neared the top of the stairs, the pillar moved away from them. Angelica followed it up to her study, pulling Amy behind her.

  Amy’s breath came in ragged pants. “Angelica, do not do this. What . . . what will you tell my parents?”

  “I will tell them you fell ill,” Angelica replied. She forced Amy into the study and shut the door behind them. “Or I will tell them you had an accident. Such things happen to people frequently.”

  Amy could feel the hunger inside the oily black pillar. She knew how much it wanted her.

  Her feet skidded across the smooth wood floor as Angelica pulled her closer to the oily column. “Oh, please, no!”

  Angelica flung Amy onto the floor in front of the twisting column. Cold poured from it in waves. Amy felt her body slow down and begin to freeze.

  The stink of rotting flesh filled her mouth, gagging her. She could taste it on her tongue, in her throat.

  Tendrils of black smoke oozed toward Amy. They slid back and forth along the floor like horrible, blind worms.

  It was coming for her.

  Chapter

  19

  It wanted blood. And not just any blood. Her blood.

  Flesh and bone and blood.

  “Take her!” Angelica cried in triumph.

  A screech of terror escaped Amy.

  “That’s right, Amy,” Angelica said, her voice cool and calm. “Scream. The spirits enjoy that. It will make the end that much sweeter for them.”

  The black pillar swept down on Amy. Covering her completely.

  Amy curled up in a tight little ball. She squeezed her eyes shut.

  “Aaa-mmmm-yyy. . .” a voice called. “Aaa-mmmm-yyy.”

  A woman’s voice. But not her cousin’s.

  “Aaa-mmm-yyy.”

  Amy opened her eyes. All she could see was the black smoke. It was thick and oily. It left a greasy film on her hands and face. What was happening to her?

  “Aaa-mmmm-yyy.”

  A face appeared in the smoke. A face covered with sores. Raw, bone-deep sores that oozed yellow pus.

  A sharp, bitter taste hit the back of Amy’s throat. She swallowed hard.

  More faces appeared around Amy. “No,” Amy moaned. “Please. I can’t bear it.”

  One face was wet with blood. Its eyeballs hung by threads.

  One face had a ragged hole in its forehead. Amy could see a clump of spongy brain tissue inside.

  Another had been skinned, leaving a flayed, bloody mask covered with spidery blue veins.

  Still another face was so bloated that it hardly looked human at all. It opened its mouth to scream, and a white, squirming horde of maggots crawled out.

&nbs
p; I know her, Amy thought, horrified. I know that woman.

  It was the face of Chantal Duvane.

  With a shock, Amy realized what the faces were. Who they were.

  They were the faces of all the people Angelica had killed.

  If Angelica won, Amy would be held prisoner in the twisting column too.

  Amy screamed, screamed until she had to gasp for breath.

  “You brought this on yourself, Amy dear,” Amy heard Angelica call.

  “How could you?” Amy shouted. “How could you do this to me?”

  “But, Amy, I can do anything!” Angelica answered.

  The faces crowded close to Amy, moaning and screeching. Their eyes stared into hers. They licked her with their decaying tongues.

  Then clawed hands appeared in the black smoke. They reached for Amy.

  She forced herself to her feet and whirled one way, then the other. Avoiding the worst of the slashes.

  “That’s it,” Angelica called. Her voice sounded so far away. “Fight, Amy. Or maybe you should beg. They like their victims to beg.”

  The claws tore at Amy’s hair. Her dress. They raked painfully across her arms.

  They could kill me so easily, Amy realized. They are playing with me. Torturing me for pleasure.

  Or they wanted more from her than her life.

  Yes! That was it. They wanted more than her body. They wanted her soul.

  If they took it, she would be trapped in the pillar with the others. Howling and screaming. Reliving her death again and again.

  “Nooooo!” she shrieked.

  The oily black smoke lifted her off her feet and held her suspended in the air.

  Amy expected pain. But she only felt cold. So cold.

  Close your eyes, Amy. The voice slid through her mind. Smooth and soft and inhuman. So different from the voices howling in agony around her.

  This is not the voice of one of her victims, Amy thought. It must be one of her guides. It is evil, Amy told herself. You cannot listen to it.

  Close your eyes, and it will all be over.

  The voice tugged at Amy. She struggled to remember why she should not obey. Her eyelids quivered and began to close.

  It is the end, she thought. The end of everything. She would slide into darkness, and the fear would stop forever. It would be so easy . . .

  And then Amy heard Angelica laughing. Laughing.

  Anger washed through her, burning away the paralyzing cold. She was not going to give up. She could not. Her parents needed her. David needed her. And she was not about to let Angelica win.

  Slowly, Amy forced her eyes open. Something new burst to life within her, something deep and powerful. Sparks blossomed in front of her eyes and liquid fire ran through her body.

  Close your eyes, Amy, and it will all be over.

  “No!” Amy shouted. She felt strong. So strong.

  This is what Angelica wanted to steal from me, Amy realized. This power. My power.

  “You cannot have it,” Amy screamed. She fought against the blackness surrounding her.

  The faces pressed close to Amy, as though afraid they might lose her. Their stench poured into her nose and mouth, suffocating her.

  No, she thought. No!

  Amy’s power burned through her, growing hotter and hotter. Stronger and stronger.

  Then it exploded outward in a flash of light.

  For a moment, Amy was blinded. Then she saw the oily black smoke shriveling away like burning hair.

  Amy dropped to the floor. Free! She was free!

  Then she looked down at herself—and gasped.

  Tiny white flames flickered along her skin. Bright, so bright they hurt her eyes. But they did not burn her.

  Amy caught something moving from the corner of her eye. The oily pillar. As she watched, it began to whirl faster and faster.

  The faces stared at Amy, howling in fury.

  “Stop,” she whispered. But they did not. The howl went up and up, louder and louder.

  Pain shot through Amy. “Stop!” she yelled.

  Balls of white fire flew off her body and into the pillar.

  A crack appeared in the dark column. It spread and widened.

  Then the whole mass split apart. The faces tearing. Screaming in agony.

  A mixture of blood and an oily black liquid spattered across the room.

  Then the horrible howling stopped.

  Amy could not stop shaking. It’s over, she told herself. It’s over.

  But what about Angelica? Amy spun around.

  Her cousin lay on the floor, arms and legs sprawled awkwardly. Her hair spread in a black pool around her.

  Did I kill her? Amy wondered. Did destroying Angelica’s spirits kill her?

  Chapter

  20

  “What have you done?” Angelica cried weakly.

  She wasn’t dead! “Your spirits are gone,” Amy told her cousin.

  “No! It can’t be true!”

  “But it is,” Amy said firmly. “It’s over, Angelica. You failed. You could use your spirits to kill Chantal and Bernice. And poor Nellie. They could not fight you. But I can. And I won.”

  Amy stared down at Angelica. She noticed that her cousin’s eyes had turned green again.

  “Good-bye, Angelica,” Amy said softly. Then she rushed from the room.

  “You cannot get away!” Angelica screamed as Amy pounded down the stairs.

  Her voice spurred Amy to go faster. She had to get out now. Angelica could regain her strength at any moment.

  She had to get to David. She had to warn him!

  She ran to the front door.

  Locked.

  Amy had forgotten it was locked. Maybe the housekeeper kept a set in the kitchen or pantry. She hurried into the kitchen and searched through the drawers and cupboards as quickly as she could.

  Where are they? Where are they?

  Amy didn’t know what Angelica would do to her if she came downstairs. She knew the column of spirits had been destroyed. She felt it. But that did not mean Angelica had no other powers.

  Amy crossed over to the pantry door. As she opened it, she heard something jingle. An apron hung on the doorknob. And in the apron pocket—the keys!

  She ran to the front door. She tried three keys—then found one that worked.

  Then she rushed toward the Hathaways’ home. At the gate, she tried one key after another. Did the housekeeper have the gate key on her ring?

  Amy’s hands shook as she tried another key.

  She heard a twig crack behind her.

  Angelica was coming. Or something else. Something worse.

  “Please,” she whispered, frantically fitting another key into the lock. She twisted it back and forth. “Come on, come on!”

  The lock clicked. Amy shoved the gate open and dashed toward the Hathaway mansion.

  She could see a light through the mist. Good. Someone was home.

  A dark shape appeared in front of Amy. She did not have time to stop. Her breath went out in a grunt as she crashed into it.

  A strong arm came around her and kept her from falling. Amy jerked her head up. “David!” she exclaimed. “Hurry, we have to get back to your house. We are in terrible danger. Angelica is going to—”

  Her words ended in a gasp as he scooped her up with his good arm. “You do not need to carry me, David. I’m fine. Really. And we will be able to go faster if we both run.”

  He did not listen. His arm tightened around her, squeezing her ribs painfully.

  Amy stared at him in rising horror. “David,” she cried. “What’s wrong?”

  He did not answer.

  He started walking.

  Walking straight toward the Fear mansion.

  He was taking her back to Angelica!

  Chapter

  21

  “No,” Amy moaned. “Oh, please, not this!”

  David did not answer her. He did not even glance down at her. He just kept walking—walking toward the Fear mansion.


  Amy struggled to slide out of his grasp, but his arm felt like iron around her waist.

  “David, it is me—Amy,” she cried. “Can’t you hear me?”

  She grabbed his face and forced him to look at her.

  There was no recognition in his face. No expression at all.

  Angelica did this, Amy thought. Angelica is controlling him.

  Now even David could not help her.

  Amy felt tears run down her face. She had barely escaped from Angelica the first time. What could she do against her cousin now?

  Amy shook her head. “No. Angelica cannot have you, David. I will fight for you—and myself. And I will beat her.”

  Amy pounded against David’s chest with her fists, determined to force him to hear her. “David, it’s Amy. You told me you love me. And I love you. Oh, please remember, David!”

  He ignored her. His long strides jolted her as he carried her toward the Fear mansion.

  Amy had to find a way to reach him. If she didn’t, Angelica would destroy them both.

  David had almost reached the back door.

  Angelica knew this was the way to hurt her the most. Anger burned inside Amy. I will not let her take David. I will never let him marry Hannah.

  “David, listen to me,” Amy ordered, her voice sharp. “You have to fight. Do not let her tell you what to do. Fight!”

  David carried her into the house and set Amy down. He kept a tight hold on her arm.

  Amy tried to pull his fingers off her. But David would not release her.

  “Welcome back, Amy,” Angelica said. She walked toward them, regal as a queen.

  “Let him go,” Amy demanded.

  “Ah, but he is mine,” Angelica replied, smiling. “Let me show you.”

  She crooked her finger at him. “David, bring her to me.”

  “No, David,” Amy cried. “Don’t! You told me to trust you and I do. You cannot give me to her.”

  David hesitated.

  I knew he could hear me! Amy thought. I knew he could hear me somehow.

  Then David stepped forward, still clenching her arm. Her shoes scraped on the floor as he dragged her forward.

  “Now it is over,” Angelica said.

  Amy locked her eyes on David’s face. Angelica might have missed that brief hesitation, but Amy had not.