Page 53 of His to Haunt

He regenerates faster now. Getting stronger with each stitch. My hair is my sacrifice to his need, each strand sewn with care into the fabric until the vine of the living is complete, and my lover will pass through the womb reborn. -R

The ankh is in the eye is in the staff is in the heart.

I think the ankh is the key. Enter the key into the eye or keyhole. This leads to the old staff room. Is the staff room where the tomb is? They always buried them with their hearts in ancient Egyptian times. -R

No, I had it wrong. There is no tomb in the old staff room. The trap door leads to storage. I think it refers to the staff of immortality, which is to be found in the heart. The heart must equal the tomb. So, the staff is in the tomb. But where is the tomb? The replica coffins are merely works of art. Not real. Maybe the tomb is in the old family cemetery. Maybe it’s one of the caged ones—to keep out grave diggers, they said—or is it to keep the dead inside? -R

Burial

Rachel

Dear Leena,

The lotus necklace is for you. A symbol of rebirth. Wear it for good luck—you will need it.

About that…

Could you ever imagine me in the moonlight with a shovel in hand digging my own grave?

I couldn’t see myself that way either—but that was before I knew the key to my happiness.

Like the crews of men who dug the gold mining tunnels where the vampires would come to feed, I went out with my shovel early in the morning after the cousins finally went to sleep. Night owls the both of them. Half-breed dampyrs; their mother was raped by a vampire. You could say they are bitter.

They want to keep me on the outside, shut out of their club, their coven. Maybe they are envious that I could become superior to them—a full vampire.

Regardless, I’ve always been a proactive person and have taken matters into my own hands.

Unseen in the shadows along the edge of the wood where I believed the elder was buried, I unlocked the chain that held the cage to his grave, and I dug for hours in the moonlight until I felt feverish amidst the smell of wet earth.

I began to worry if maybe it was all just a trap; maybe they led me here. I think they want me gone. The thing is…I’m already so lost. Oh, but I’m about to be found! I’ve almost got all the pieces. The grave that was buried so deep had his name scrolled across it: Diavol.

It took an exhausting amount of time to leverage it open with the shovel. I gasped, covering my mouth, feeling nauseous as I studied the remains of a skeleton so tall that the lower section of its limbs were bent to fit the casket even with the missing skull. But something was between the legs. I sunk into the earth to get a closer look, turning the large object until I saw the hallowed face of Diavol. My soulmate.

Leena, if you’re reading this…FIND ME!

Love, Rachel. XO

Sadness

Leena

Tuesday morning and a terrible night of sleep. I kept the lamp light on, my gaze fixed on the wall like a hauntophobic child. I drifted in and out restlessly, trying to put reason to madness.

Dressed in sweatpants and a tee, today is all about regaining my sanity in time for work tomorrow. I also have reading to do for my online classes that are starting next week. But first, something else nags at me.

It’s the irrational part of my mind that leads me to go upstairs, hellbent on searching Mom’s room for the embroidery when she isn’t looking. She said it was nearly complete. Her hair added to Rachel’s to form an ivy circle that my poor sister believed to be a portal for a demonic spirit that she believed was fucking her.

My mind jumps to the dream. The eyeball in the wall. The naked man between my legs. How real his hardened flesh felt against me, the thickly velvety tip tickling my clit, caressing the labia. My body almost wanted what my mind fully rejected. And then, how real it felt when I hit him, fighting him off.

“What’s up, girl?” says Mom, startling me with perkiness. She’s dressed in black from head to toe and wearing smokey shadow around her bright brown eyes. She’s always in such a good mood when she’s in Annie Danger mode.

“How’s it goin’ hot-thing?” I say as if she were a girlfriend. Her smile brightens.

“Oh, just planning to head out for a few. Check out the local vintage shop for some duds.”

“Yeah, there are a couple of those stores in town. Hey, I had a question about that embroidery you’ve been working on. It was Zand who gave it to you, right?”

“No,” she shrugs. “I told you it wasn’t him.”

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