Death and the Girl Next Door - Page 74/79

Brooklyn spoke as though from a dream. “Is that what happened to me?” She focused on Cameron, who clearly knew more than we did. “Jared said I was taken. Was I possessed?”

Brooklyn’s mother scooped her hands into her own. “Not by a demon, honey,” she said, rushing to reassure her. “You were possessed by a dark spirit.”

“It’s why we moved here in the first place,” her father said. “The Sanctuary knew how to help you when we didn’t.”

“Oh, my god, I remember,” she said, thinking back. “I remember being prayed over and”—her shimmering eyes found Grandpa—“and you freeing me.”

A sad smile slid across Grandpa’s face as Brooke’s parents wrapped her in their arms.

“When you couldn’t recall what happened afterwards,” her dad said, “we didn’t feel the need to tell you, to bring all that up again.”

Brooke sobbed into her mom’s jacket, then stopped suddenly, as though she’d had an epiphany. She glanced at Cameron and socked him on the arm.

He rubbed it, pretending it hurt, then said with a frown, “What’d I do?”

“That’s why my aura’s different, isn’t it?”

“Her aura?” her mom asked.

Cameron shrugged. “Yeah, but it’s not a bad different. It’s just a different.”

“Do you remember what it was like?” Glitch asked in awe.

She shook her head. “I don’t. I can’t remember a thing about it other than having bad dreams and being prayed over.” She turned to my grandparents. “You saved me.”

“No,” Grandma said, “your mom and dad saved you. If they hadn’t brought you here, you wouldn’t have survived much longer. You were barely alive as it was.”

“Unlike demons,” her dad said, “dark spirits don’t have much of an agenda other than causing pain and wreaking havoc.”

She hugged them again as I stewed in a numb, soupy kind of silence. Brooke was possessed when she moved here? I couldn’t help but wonder if she was saved before or after our throw down.

“We have maps,” the sheriff said to Jared. “We think we know where the majority of the dark spirits went. They left quite a trail to follow.”

Jared nodded. “I’ll need them.”

“Wait,” I said, putting a stop to the strategic planning committee. “We can prepare for World War Three later. What happened to Mom and Dad?” I gave my grandparents the once-over, trying very hard not to be bitter. Had they known all this time? And they let me believe they’d just disappeared?

“We’re not absolutely certain, honey,” Betty Jo said when they didn’t answer right away.

Was everyone in Riley’s Switch in on this? I felt like a complete idiot.

“From what we’ve been able to piece together,” she continued, “your father tried to close the gates while your mother tried to protect you from the dark spirits coming through. And then they were just gone.”

“That’s when it stopped,” Grandma said. “Everything stopped. And as far as we can tell, you haven’t had a vision since.”

“Are you kidding?” Glitch scoffed. “She has visions all the time.”

“What?” Grandma’s surprise quickly turned to hope. Her face brightened with it. But she was wrong about me. Everyone was wrong. They had to be.

“I have visions,” I admitted, vowing to stab Glitch later, “but they’re stupid. They don’t make sense.”

Grandma and Grandpa smiled at each other. They were going to be so disappointed.

I took in Jared from underneath my lashes. He still had a death grip on my hand, and I knew this wasn’t over. I sighed aloud and tried to fill in the blanks. “What about me?” I looked up at Grandpa. “I was taken too, wasn’t I?”

His breath hitched, and he hesitated. Then, with his posture wilting, he whispered, “Yes.”

My lids slammed shut. I knew it. Deep down inside, I knew I’d been taken just like Brooke, only I didn’t remember being prayed over like she’d been. I didn’t remember the release of freedom, the purity of being cleansed.

“We tried for a year,” Grandma said, her face despondent, forlorn. “We did everything.”

“It was like you’d absorbed it,” Grandpa said. Then he stabbed me with a look of encouragement. “You were stronger than it, pix. It never controlled you. You always controlled it.”

I took a mental inventory of everything I’d learned, including the gates of Hell opening, the impending battle, the possession. But still Jared clung to me, waiting, anticipating.

And then the truth dawned.

I closed my eyes, took a soft breath, then whispered, “It’s still in me.” When nobody argued, I opened my eyes and let reality sink in. “I’m still possessed.”

Every gaze in the room suddenly had somewhere else to be. I stood and placed my free hand over my heart, fear suddenly gripping me to a blinding degree.

“I want it out,” I said, losing the fragile hold I had on my sanity. “I want it out, now.”

“It’s too strong,” Jared said, speaking at last, his voice airy with regret. “If we exorcise it now, it will kill you. It will fracture your soul and leave you for dead. If your grandparents had succeeded, you would not be here today. And they probably wouldn’t be either.”