The Ghost Host: Episode 1 (The Ghost Host Series) Page 23

  “Can I really help you?” I finally ask.

  Archer’s nod is calm, sure. I already knew the answer, but I had to ask. I had to know that he believes I can free him from the awful prison he’s been stuck in for the last five years. I don’t ask how I can save him. He couldn’t tell me even if I did ask. That’s not why, though. I don’t ask, because I already know the answer. At least, I think I know the first step.

  First, I have to remember what happened. Remember Archer and how much we meant to each other. I have to remember who did this to him, too. Then, when I know the truth, I have to set things right. I think everyone else thinks that means simply releasing my hold on Archer. They’re wrong. I don’t know how I know that, but I do. Saying goodbye to my first teenage love won’t break the tether that’s holding him here. Archer latched on to me, but I’m almost positive I’m not the only reason he can’t move on. Whoever killed him is just as responsible.

  I keep away from researching ghosts and other paranormal phenomena because I simply don’t want to know any more than what I already do. I know that needs to change with Holden leaving soon. Facing that reality isn’t easy. He’s always learned enough to keep me safe, but let me stay blissfully ignorant of the dangers I’m really facing. It’s time to stop hiding behind him and his research and start trusting my own abilities and knowledge. It terrifies me to think of stumbling onto something even worse.

  That same feeling of dread is cinched around me now. I don’t want to see what he wants to show me. I don’t want to find out I’m responsible for his death. Blocking out what happened doesn’t change the fact that he accepted me when almost no one else would and he died because of his kindness. Because of me. Whether I was directly responsible or not, he’s dead because he had the misfortune of meeting me.

  I don’t want to know.

  I want to keep hurting him even less.

  Trembling uncontrollably, I fumble with the leather ties to remove the headband and bracelets Kyran’s aunt made me. No matter how much I want to hide from all of this, I can’t. Slowly, I reach my hand forward. He doesn’t jump at the chance to connect. He waits, giving me the option of changing my mind. I want to so badly, but I shove my hand toward him and close my eyes. I take a deep breath in…and reality shatters.

  Images slam into my mind, and with them comes pain that slices through me with each new scene. Holding it all in feels like trying to contain a bomb, but I can’t let the others know what I’m doing. Focusing, I try to see everything Archer is trying to show me. Woods slam into place only to vanish a second later. Trees zip past me, scraping against my mind like rough bark against tender skin. Fallen pine needles prick every inch of me. Rocks crop up unexpectedly, tripping me, forcing me to fall.

  Minute details assault me relentlessly, but I can’t see anything bigger. I’m not there. Archer is nowhere to be seen. Pleading for this to be over, I beg Archer to show me what happened. Frustration pours through his touch as he tries to focus the images he’s sending. Blinding pain shoots through my head as he wrenches away scenes of the forest and thrusts snapshots of us together into my consciousness fast and hard. Each one knocks the breath out of me like I’m being pelted by baseballs. It’s all I can do to keep from passing out.

  Holding hands. Touching my hair. Smiling. Running. Laughing. Spinning with the twins. Marshmallows. Fire. Rocks. The cliff. Feet swinging over the edge. Sitting. Talking. Screaming. Darkness. Pain. Fighting. Screaming. Pleading. Trying to save him. Failing. Screaming. Falling. Blackness.

  One after another, they stab into me, too fast, too painful to truly understand. Archer knows I’m not getting it, but he can’t control his message. He pushes harder. The pain swells, builds up, and finally bursts out of me in an agonizing scream.

  28: The Last Thought

  (Malachi)

  Her screaming sends a jolt through everyone in the apartment. We’re all stumbling up to our feet before the first awful sound fades. Another one starts right away, shrill and filled with terrible pain. Holden and I crash through the door first, stumbling over the top of each other before coming to a terrified halt. Neither one of us is capable of reacting.

  Sitting on her mattress, Echo’s frost covered arm is stretched out, gripping something so hard her hand is blanched white. Her eyes are squeezed tight, but the expression on her face is like nothing I’ve ever seen before. I can’t even move, the shock is so strong. All I can do is stare at her as she screams, frost creeping up her arms to envelope her trembling body.

  “Move!” Kyran shouts as he shoves me out of the way.

  Finally jerked out of my shock-induced stupor, I lunge forward, but Holden grabs the back of my shirt and yanks me away. Rounding on him, I’m ready to take a swing if I have to, but he yanks my face next to his and says, “It’s Archer. Rushing in there could hurt her! Let Kyran help.”

  Kyran? What is he…? Turning back, I’m caught off guard to see Kyran scooping up several pieces of what looks like jewelry. How is that supposed to help her? I try to break free of Holden again, but there’s no getting away from him without a fight. I’m stuck watching as Kyran drops the smaller pieces of jewelry and focus on one long strand. I have no idea what he’s doing when he holds it up over her head like he’s about to crown Echo the new queen of England.

  Zara is mumbling behind me, begging Kyran to be fast and careful. I’m completely lost, and dying to get to Echo, but Holden refuses to let me go. Everyone holds their breath when Kyran’s hands snap down. The three of us still waiting by the door are thrown back into the wall a second later when a blast of icy wind slams into our bodies.

  Echo collapses.

  I rush forward with only one thought in my head. I need to touch her, make sure she’s okay. I’m about to grab her when Kyran shoves me back again. “Let me finish!” he snaps angrily.

  Finish what? I’m too freaked out to immediately comprehend what he’s doing. Even when I do take a breath and focus, I haven’t got a clue. “A headband?” I demand. “What are you doing?”

  “Filled with salt!” Kyran’s gaze snaps up as he tries to finish tying the knot behind Echo’s hair while she’s sprawled out on his lap completely unconscious. “From my aunt. She wasn’t supposed to take them off!”

  Sitting back on my heels, I stare at the other pieces of jewelry lying on the bed next to Echo. The bracelets don’t look like anything special. A necklace half stuck under her mattress is only slightly more noticeable with some kind of star dangling from it, but the headband is the least remarkable of all of them. That’s what saved her from Archer?

  “When did…?”

  “Before we went to see Agent Morton,” Kyran says.

  Echo’s been pretty out of it since then. No wonder she hadn’t mentioned them. I knew Kyran was picking up something for her that morning, but I wasn’t sure what, or whether it would actually work. Who knows how much of what Kyran’s family is into is more than just backwater nonsense and superstition. I really didn’t think much of it even when he told me what he was doing that morning. I’m floored by how wrong I was.

  “Why did she take them off?” I ask more sedately.

  Holden and Zara sit down next to us, but Holden is the one to speak. “To talk to Archer, I’m guessing.”

  “Why would she do that without telling anyone?” Kyran growls. “She knew how dangerous it was!”

  The anger in his voice catches me off guard, but Holden distracts me before I can comment. “Because she was scared,” Holden says, “scared of finding out the truth and learning that she was the one who hurt Archer.”

  “She wouldn’t have wanted to find that out in front of everyone else,” Zara says as she reaches forward to take her friend’s hand. As soon as she does, she gasps. “She’s like ice! She’s freezing!”

  Everyone’s hands dart forward. I feel sick when I touch her skin. Touching her is almost painful, she’s so cold. “Get blankets!” I demand.

  Zara goes running for her room, but only returns with on
e comforter. “This is all I have,” she apologizes. Her face wrinkles in worry. “Isn’t there a heater or something? An electric blanket, maybe?”

  “This is Georgia,” Kyran apologizes. “It only gets really cold here a few days a year.” He’s still holding her head is his lap, but when he pulls his hand away to pull the blankets more tightly around her, I see the difference his touch made.

  “Body heat!” I point to the spot on her cheek where he’d touched her. Now free of frost, it tells me how to help her. No one objects when I strip off my shirt and pull Echo out of Kyran’s grip. Pressing my chest against her back, I hold her there, but it isn’t working like I expected.

  Zara is the first to take action. Grabbing at her friend’s shirt, she starts tugging it off, pushing me out of the way. “Skin to skin,” she says in a rush, and she yanks the shirt free. Her hands shove me back against Echo and we all take a deep breath when the frost starts melting. It’s slow, but her usually pale skin slowly begins to regain what little color it used to have.

  Standing, Zara grabs Holden’s and Kyran’s shirts and starts shoving them toward the door. Both argue and try to get away, but Zara’s fierce glare shuts them up. Or maybe it’s what she says to them. “Echo needs to be warm, pronto. You want her to stay cold any longer than she has to? No. So more clothes need to come off and I don’t think either of you need to see that.”

  Holden’s face crinkles. He’s still worried, but he clearly isn’t interested in sticking around. With a nod that promises he’ll be close by if Echo needs him, he disappears around the corner. Kyran’s only response is a clenched jaw before following suit. Sighing, Zara turns back to me and says, “Seriously, strip down and get her warm. Yell if you need me. I’ve seen Echo in her underwear plenty of times in the locker room after gym class.”

  “Will she be okay?” I ask. “Has this happened before?”

  Zara bites her bottom lip. “Only once that I know of. In fourth grade. I had to warm her back up that time. I just thought she’d probably rather wake up naked in bed with you instead of me this time.” She smiles, but it’s dwarfed by her worry for her friend. Gesturing at me to get moving, she steps into the hall and pulls the door closed.

  I feel more than a little weird undressing my unconscious girlfriend, but once we’re both down to our underwear and huddled under the blankets, Echo’s body relaxes against mine and I watch the scary white ice fade as her skin returns to a healthy pink.

  She doesn’t wake up, but on some strange level, I’m relieved. Logically, I have to believe in the ghosts. I’ve seen too much not too. Archer is real. The other ghosts, they’re hanging around somewhere. Echo’s ability is dangerous. I kind of understood that before, but now, I’ve pretty much been slapped in the face with how real all of this is. Danger included.

  My arms are wrapped around her body. I have no desire to let go, but I’m not sure whether that’s wholly out of how much I care about her, or out of fear. If I let go, will the ghosts come back? Will I have to face that all over again? Can I do this? I’m still too much in shock to really have an answer for that.

  Before she came out here, I made her a promise. I told her there was no way I’d bail on her. Getting to know her wasn’t going to change how I felt. It wasn’t a lie. Nothing has changed about how much I want to be with her and protect her. What’s different now is that I’m finally starting to understand what her dad meant when he said I had no idea what I was taking on. I didn’t. I had no freakin’ clue.

  I pull one of my hands out from under the blanket to pull back a lock of Echo’s hair that has fallen in her eyes. It’s only then that I realize the trembling I thought I was trying to calm in Echo is actually coming from me. My hand quivers as I hold it out. Maybe that shouldn’t be so surprising after what I just witnessed, but it is.

  Kyran and I, we’ve been in plenty of trouble, some of it fairly serious. We’ve done dangerous stunts that have gotten us hurt more than once. I’ve always thought of myself as a tough guy, someone who could face down just about anything. I stood up to Evan when I had to. I should be able to handle this, right? The ghosts, it’s different. It’s not just that they scare the bejeezus out of me. There’s something more, something deeper I don’t understand.

  The compulsion to be near and protect Echo is only getting stronger the more I’m around her. My confidence that I can actually protect her from anything is taking a nosedive, though. How in the hell am I supposed to keep these psychotic ghosts from killing her? And why does it feel like that matters more than anything else in my life right now? Echo is amazing. Seeing her hurt would kill me. There’s something else going on between us, though, and I have no idea what is it is. That is as terrifying as the ghosts, because if I’m right, what happens if I fail?

  That’s the last thought on my mind as the constant fear and worry of the last two days finally catches up to me and pulls me into a fitful sleep.

  29: Ordinary

  (Echo)

  Coming out of the fog of broken memories is like falling through ice. Cold envelopes me in a flash of breath-stealing pain before being swallowed up by warmth I can’t really explain. Sucking in a desperate breath, I bolt upright in a panic. When hands grab my shoulders, it only gets worse and I lash out at my attacker.

  “Echo! Stop! It’s just me!” a voice begs.

  I whip around, his hands pulling back at my movement. The sight of Malachi’s panicked face staring back at me is so disorienting after the nightmares that I can’t respond. Not until I realize the warmth is coming from him. That realization spawns something primal in me. He protected me. He saved me. His warmth kept me from falling off the cliff of horrible memories into a darkness I knew I would never be able to escape.

  Rational thought is gone. Need overwhelms me as I grab his face and pull it to mine. Our mouths meet in a painful clash, but I don’t stop. I can’t. I need him. I need to feel his warmth, his emotion. I have to be buried in it after what Archer tried to show me. Just the thought of all those terrible memories trying to cram themselves into my mind makes me wince and I shove them away in desperation.

  I can’t feel that again. The pain and guilt and fear. I can’t lose myself in what happened to him. Escape. Safety. Forgetting. I drown myself in Malachi’s touch. When he tries to pull away, to say something, I refuse to let him go. My lips beg him, plead with him to stay. Raking my fingers down his bare back, I pull him closer and close every last inch of space between us. He can’t let go. Please, don’t let go.

  Suddenly, I’m lying on my back. Malachi’s lips lose contact with mine. I reach up, desperate, and pull him back. “Echo, wait,” he says, but I shake my head and kiss him again and again.

  “No, please.” I’m begging. I’m pleading, but I have to. If he leaves, it will all come back. The memories will come back. They’ll drag me under and never let me go. One hand tangles in his hair and pulls him down the rest of the way. I need to feel him. His warmth is the only thing saving me from the darkness, but suddenly it’s not enough.

  Releasing my grip on his back, my hand slides down to the waistband of his boxers. Malachi pulls away immediately. Gulping in breath after breath, his eyes are wide as he shakes his head. “Echo, no. You’ve just…”

  “Please,” I beg as I reach out for him again. “I need you, please, Malachi. You have to save me from all of this. You have to.”

  Something changes in his expression, but I can’t focus on what or why. He doesn’t resist when I pull him back down. His hands and mouth move to match mine, frenzied, frantic. I nearly lose it when he pulls away again, but this time he isn’t trying to leave me. He reaches for his jeans and comes back with a foil packet, but he hesitates again, like he’s trying to clear his thoughts.

  On the edge of full blown panic, I reach up and pull his mouth to mine, kissing him until I am the only thought in his mind. “Don’t leave me,” I mumble against his mouth, almost a command more than a plea, and he responds immediately. The last few pieces of clothing b
etween us are gone a second later and a new pain bursts through my body as he thrusts into me.

  Biting my lip against the rush of sensation, I don’t even know how to respond. He can’t stop. He has to take it all away. He’s the only one who can get rid of what Archer shoved into my head. It’s all I can focus on as Malachi’s body pulses against mine. My nails dig into his skin as pain and pleasure wash over me in tides tinged with blackness. Every movement pushes away my fear, my terror at having to face the truth of my past. I feel like I’ve barely breached the surface when Malachi collapses on top of me, spent and exhausted.

  The rush of safety and peace I was expecting to feel when he pulls away doesn’t come, and suddenly I can’t breathe. He’s still right there, emanating the warmth I need to keep myself from falling apart, but it isn’t enough. I thought I could bury it all beneath the way he makes me feel. I begged him, used him, and all the darkness is still there, right beneath the surface where it’s waiting to consume me.

  When Malachi finally looks up at me and sees the expression on my face, it’s like something lifts from his mind and his eyes widen in panic. “Echo, what’s wrong? I thought…you said…are you hurt? Are you okay?”

  Frozen, I just stare at him with the sheet pressed up against my chest. What did I just do? He reaches forward and I flinch. The fear on his face kills me, but I can’t be here anymore. I can’t think with him looking at me. I can’t think in this room, not after what I just did, and not with Archer’s memories beating around inside of me like a storm that’s about to break open.

  Scrambling for my clothes, I start yanking them on as Malachi does the same. His hands are grabbing at me, trying to stop me from running. The beautiful warmth of his soul begs me to stay, but I twist out of his grip and run away from everything I don’t know how to face.