The book said that when Emily died, she and Alys were finally reunited in death, and they should have moved on, but they didn’t because they didn’t trust Noah. And they were right not to. My great-grandmother came to Haven Crest one day; it didn’t say why, but it was during her pregnancy with Nan. Noah attacked her, and then he told Emily and Alys that the only way to save her was to kill one of her babies. Alys believed him, and she killed the red twin while it was still inside my great-grandmother. Only, it had been a deception, and she’d killed the white twin instead.
How? How had he managed to do that? Not even the book seemed to know. Although, there was talk that Alys was in league with Noah. She attacked Emily when her sister confronted her about the suspicions. Alys was sent to the void for killing her own blood, and for trying to destroy her own sister.
Emily didn’t move on. She wouldn’t while her sister was imprisoned. Because she lingered, Alys could occasionally appear to her family, but only briefly, or in dreams.
So it had been Alys I’d dreamed about.
And then last month, Emily disappeared.
I stared at the page. Disappeared? Emily hadn’t disappeared. She’d been abducted. How could the book not know that Noah had taken her?
That’s where the story of Emily and Alys ended. There was a brief paragraph about Nan and her dead twin, and then there was a chapter about me and Wren. It wasn’t very long, and that was okay, because it was weird reading about myself, my suicide attempt and Bell Hill and seeing it presented in such a dry, emotionless way.
It ended with our fight against Bent. I supposed once Halloween was over, this latest “adventure” would appear on the pages, as well.
I was just about to close the book, when new writing appeared. I watched it spread out across the page:
LOOK OUT. BEHIND YOU.
I turned around just in time to have a fist slammed into my face. It knocked me into the table, but I shook it off and leaped to my feet. The chair went flying.
It was Woodstock.
Son of a bitch.
Of course he hadn’t been dusted. God only knew whose bones I’d burned that night. Noah had tricked me, and I let him. I should have checked the patient number on the grave against Woodstock’s file.
“What happened to your eye?” I asked with a smile when I saw the patch he wore. I was pretty sure it had been on the top of Wren’s little collection.
His cocky grin faded.
“What payment did Noah give you for that eye, huh? Or did he tell you that losing an eye was better than being barbecued?”
“You talk a lot,” he said.
I nodded. “Yes, I do. You’re here for a reason, Age of Aquarius. What is it?”
“I came for you. Noah said I could have you.”
What was that all about? Noah wasn’t going to just hand me over to this nut. I was too valuable. But Woodstock wasn’t. Was Noah using me to tie up loose ends? “Bet he also told you that Wren wouldn’t hurt you.”
There was no trace of smugness now. “Time for you to shut up.” He came at me. I shoved a chair in front of him, but he tossed it aside. I hopped onto the table and rolled off the other side, putting the furniture between us. He vaulted over it with ease. Not bad for a guy who smelled like patchouli and pot.
He hit me again. I was ready for it this time and got him with two good punches and a kick before he punched me hard in the face. I fell over onto the tabletop. Another punch and another. He jumped on top of me and pinned my arms with his knees.
Either he was happy to see me or he had more than fighting in mind. That was not going to happen. I’d had my fill of sexually abusive ghosts for the day—for the rest of my life.
I let the anger fill me until my skin crackled with it. My hair lifted into the air, floating like seaweed on water. Ah...manifestation. I smiled.
I pulled my arms free from his grip like he was as weak as a child. I reached up and grabbed his hair, pulling his head down as I shoved mine up. Our skulls met like two coconuts. I threw him off me as stars danced in front of my eyes.
I started kicking him as he sat on the floor cradling his head. He swept out his leg, taking mine out from underneath me. I fell to the floor with a crash. There was that shushing sound again.
Woodstock’s fingers fumbled with the button on my jeans. I got my left leg up so I could brace the sole of my boot against his throat. I pushed hard before easing up a bit. He relaxed a little, and I took the opportunity to then draw my foot back a bit and slam it into his throat, knocking him off me. He crashed into another table, knocking over two chairs in the process.
Now I was really pissed off. I grabbed his matted hair in my fist and slammed his face into the floor again and again and again...
This time the “shush” was followed by the door to the room opening. The librarian wiggled in like she and her hips owned the place.
“What is going on here?” she demanded. “This sort of noise and commotion is not allowed on these grounds. I’m afraid you’re both going to have to leave.”
“Sorry about this,” I said, rising to my feet. I kicked Woodstock hard in the ribs as I stood. “I thought he was dead.”
She blinked. “He is.”
I almost rolled my eyes, but I’d walked right into that one. “I thought he was someplace where I didn’t have to worry about him.”
“Obviously not.”
“Are you always so rude?”