Page 5 of Heart, Haunt, Havoc
“I’m twenty-seven,” Colin said, frowning. “Do Ilookolder…?”
“No, but yousoundolder.”
“You’re, what, twenty-three?”
“Twenty-five.” Bishop snorted.
“Okay, twenty-five.” Colin pushed his sleeves to his elbows. Bishop’s eyes flicked, tracking the black sigils inked into his skin. Crisp edges, swirling curves—ancient angelic language—diving from his wrist to the crook of his elbow. He ignored their prying—rude—and dunked naan into reddish-orange curry puddled next to his rice. “Tell me about these hallucinations.”
They lowered their gaze to their plate. “Is that proper dinner conversation?”
“It is tonight.”
“Yeah, okay,” they said, pushing rice around with their fork. They nodded and clucked their tongue, inhaled deeply, exhaling sharply. “I caught myself having conversations with my reflection while I was working in the guest bathroom. It’s like I was talking to myself, but not. I’ve been alone in this house for six months, so talking out loud just… just happened, you know? But then I realized I was answering questions. Like, questions spoken from somewhere else. Below me, behind me. At one point, I didn’t recognize my reflection. I’d open my mouth and my reflection wouldn’t. I’d take a step; my reflection would stay put. I…” They tapped their fork against their plate. “I started sleep-walking. Following someone—something. I woke up in the basement, once. On the floor next to my bed. Then outside.”
“Outside?”
“On the porch, yeah. Against the front door.”
“Do you remember what you were being asked?”
Bishop paused to chew. “No,” they said, too quietly. “No, I don’t remember anything. I’d finish whatever I was doing and try to recallwhyI was talking. I never could.”
Colin nodded.Strange. He offered a smile.They’re lying.“When’s the last time this happened?”
“Three days ago. That’s when I woke up outside.”
“And have you noticed any defining characteristics in any of the apparitions around the house?”
“The only one I’ve ever seen is the crone. She’s—”
“Taken care of,” Colin said, draining the rest of his beer. “Quite skeletal, right? Hairless, eyeless, gaping mouth?”
Bishop drummed on their amber bottle. Their eyes narrowed, lips parting for a slow, mindful breath.
“Yes,” they said, and reached out to tap one of Colin’s tattoos, centered over the top of his wrist. “What’re these?”
Most people stared, but never asked. He glanced at Bishop’s fingers, spider-like, tickling his skin. Turning his arm over, he rested the back of his hand flat against the table. Bishop continued to touch him, tracing the hard-edged marks scrawled across his freckled limb.
“Protection,” he said, and drew his hand away, balancing his fingertip on the pale tan-line at the base of Bishop’s ring-finger. “What’s this?”
They tucked their hand into their lap. “Protection,” they parroted, and went back to eating.
Strange,Colin thought, watching them.That sounded like the truth.
Chapter three
Thefirstnight,Colinwoke to footsteps pitter-pattering in the hallway. He stared at the ceiling, propped on a freshly washed pillow, awake in the shadowy guest bedroom. Tracked them, one by one, back and forth, as they crossed the doorway. He waited, listening to the floor creak and a patch of light bend around the door. Like a flashlight, maybe.
In his nightshirt and joggers, he slipped out of bed and took careful steps toward the door. He gripped the knob and pushed.
Bishop trudged from their open bedroom, past the guest bathroom and walked in front of Colin. Their eyes were unblinking, fixed on something in the distance. Empty, but open. They walked with purpose—asleep but not, awake but gone—and stopped on the landing at the top to the staircase. The house breathed easily. Inhaling and exhaling, bending toward them and yawning open, struck silently alive in the early hours after midnight. Bishop swayed. Turned. Stared back toward their bedroom and then, slowly, began to reach.
The wolf-headed creature manifested like mist. Came forth in front of Bishop, dressed in a fine, tailored suit, and rested human hands on each side of their neck. They held each other carefully, the same way lovers would.
“I’m sorry,” Bishop said.
Colin leaned around the doorframe. The floor wheezed and his heart plummeted into his stomach.Damn.
