Page 44 of Into the Dark

“She’s here,” Nigel said, voice tight.

Oscar’s heart pounded, so he took a deep breath, reaching for calm. “Where?”

“Near the door,” Chris reported.

Adrienne licked her lips, as if they’d gone suddenly dry. “Is that you, Della? Can you come closer?”

Nigel’s weight shifted, as if he wanted to hurry to Oscar’s side, but he stayed where he was. “She’s moving toward you.”

The temperature plunged, and the EMF reader spiked up to orange. All of the hairs on Oscar’s arm stood on end—there was something dangerous near, something he couldn’t see, and all his instincts warned him to get the hell out of there.

Zeek’s eyes were wide, the white showing around the iris, but his voice only shook a little when he said, “What are you so mad about, Della? Do you want us to leave?”

“Get out,”snarled a voice in the flat tones of the dead.

A wave of anger and despair crashed into Oscar, but he forced himself to remain still and solid. To let it pass around him, like water around a rock. “I feel her anger,” he reported. “She?—”

“She’s heading for the static—” Chris said in alarm, a second before Zeek and Adrienne’sstatic cam went crashing onto its side.

Zeek flinched, but Adrienne remained steady. “Are you trying to scare us?” she asked, voice shaking a little. “Well, it’s not working! We’re not going anywhere.”

A surge of anger pummeled Oscar like a fist, but underneath was something else. Fear?

If she had been an angel of death, maybe she was afraid of being exposed, even now?

“We know an unusual number of patients died while you were here,” he said. “That was your fault, wasn’t it?”

Rage, so white-hot it took his breath away. The EMF reader flashed to red and stayed there, its shrill beeping a warning scream.

“Look out,” Chris began, but before they could finish, one of the chairs flew into the wall so hard it left a dent in the plaster.

“Salt!” Nigel yelled.

“No!” Adrienne’s skin was pale with fear, but both she and Zeek stayed where they were. “Keep going! Let her throw her tantrum.”

An old table lamp slid off a side table and smashed on the ground. The air grew cold, then even colder, until Oscar could see his breath crystallize in the shifting light of the candle. Shadows seemed to circle around them, held back only by the fragile flame.

“She’s coming close to Zeek,” Nigel warned. “She’s reaching out a hand.”

Zeek jerked. “She touched my neck!”

“Nice try, but not enough,” Adrienne called. “We’re not—ahh!”

An invisible hand grabbed a lock of her long hair and yanked it upward. She grabbed wildly, trying to fight off her attacker, but there was nothing physical to grab on to.

“Adrienne!” Chris took a step toward them, but Oscar flung out his hand and they stopped.

This was starting to go too far. Putting all the power he could into his voice, Oscar said, “Spirit! Your time is over. Leave this place, and trouble the living no more!”

The ghost’s attention fell across him like a physical weight—but Adrienne’s hair tumbled back to her shoulder. At least she was focused on him alone now.

“Oscar, she’s leaning over you now,” Nigel warned.

An icy breath feathered over the back of his neck. She was there,rightthere, even if he couldn’t see her. Instinctive fear clawed at his throat, but he visualized his old football gear around him, armoring him against attack.

“She’s leaning closer,” Chris said. “Closer…”

She was stooped right over him. She’d killed Trey as a ghost, and god knew how many others as a living woman. Did she intend he’d be next?

---