Her face, Abby saw with a queer curl of fear starting in her belly, now looked bored.
“Something’s wrong,” Abby whispered but Cash saw it too.
“Angus,” Cash’s voice cut through Cassandra’s muttering.
“Not long now, lad,” Angus replied, still grinning.
Cash pushed Abby behind him and demanded, “Angus, look at her.”
Peering around his body, Abby watched Vivianna’s arms uncross and lift toward the ceiling as her ribcage was folded up.
Then Abby watched as Vivianna’s eyes moved toward Cash and Abby.
Then she grinned.
Cash tensed, Abby took several steps back and then Cash shouted, “Angus!”
Before anyone could move Vivianna’s arms shot straight down. She hurtled herself toward the ceiling, her body coming out of the fold as she did. A firework of every colour purple you could imagine, from the palest lilac to the brightest violet to the deepest aubergine, detonated, bursting forth, filling the space and bouncing (thankfully harmlessly) off everyone standing at the circle.
Then the circle itself exploded yet again in a burst of white.
Abby heard cries and shouts but all she saw was Cash whirling.
The instant his eyes hit Abby, he barked, “Run!”
Abby, heart in her throat, ran and this time she didn’t look back.
But six feet from the door she was lifted clean off her feet.
Not by Cash.
Instead by Vivianna.
All of a sudden Abby found herself floating close to the ceiling, Vivianna’s bitch-from-hell arm locked around her waist and Abby was hanging in mid-air like a ragdoll.
Fenella, again, screamed.
Abby struggled.
Vivianna shot toward the door.
Suzanne, luckily, got there before her and slammed it closed, whirling and throwing her back against it, arms wide.
Vivianna halted, Abby’s body still moving forward, she let out a whoosh of air and Vivianna turned and shot toward the hall, taking Abby with her.
Fenella was running to the double doors that led to the hall and Abby saw Angus again with his whip. His arm came up and out sharply, the whip whistling through the air. Abby’s body jerked reflexively as the whip came toward her but its end passed straight through Abby and curled around Vivianna.
Vivianna knew it was coming, she made another turn against the direction of the whip’s tip and it fell useless to the floor.
Abby kept struggling as Vivianna moved them in another direction, always away from Cash but, Abby noted with no small amount of alarm, toward a window. Abby saw (intermittently) that Cash had his eyes on them and was circling slowly, his face like thunder, body both taut but strangely loose, looking like a big cat waiting for its opportunity, ready to strike.
Then they stopped on another jarring halt, this time something strong and vital had wrapped around Abby’s ankle preventing their progress.
Abby looked down to see Jenny had a hold of her. Vivianna tugged at Abby’s body, Abby shoved at Vivianna’s arm and Jenny held on tight, lifting her other hand to hold on too, her feet slipping across the floorboards in her effort to hold on.
Mrs. Truman dashed behind Jenny and wrapped her arms around Jenny’s waist.
“Let go of Abigail!” Mrs. Truman shrieked, angry, affronted eyes on Vivianna as if she could not believe this phantom would have the audacity to put her vile ghost hands on Mrs. Truman’s precious Abigail Butler.
Mrs. Truman was leaning all of her weight back, holding onto Jenny for all she was worth but Abby felt Jenny’s hands slipping.
“Don’t let go, Jenny!” Abby shouted desperately just as Jenny lost her grip and both she and Mrs. Truman flew backwards, arms wind-milling.
Vivianna only managed to move inches away when Kieran was there, his fingers closing around the ankle Jenny let go and Abby felt another set of fingers on her other ankle. Her head turned and she saw Nicola had a hold of her there.
“Angus,” Cash’s voice was close, it was a low, angry growl but Abby couldn’t see him.
“Hang on,” Angus replied.
“Hang on!” Nicola cried, putting all her weight into holding Abby safe. “What do you mean ‘hang on’? Abby’s suspended in mid-air! Do something!”
“We’re resurrecting the circle,” Cassandra called calmly.
“The circle is out. We’re moving to Plan B,” Cash declared.
“We don’t have a Plan B!” Jenny yelled, running back toward Abby, jumping up and grabbing onto Abby’s hand.
“Plan B is getting the fuck out of here,” Cash announced.
“I’m good with that,” Abby noted quickly. “Plan B sounds good to me. Let’s do Plan B, like, now,” Abby ended on a screech just as Honor arrived, made a leap and grabbed Abby’s other hand.
Abby heard Cassandra say, “Let him in, Fenella.”
“But, Abby doesn’t want –” Fenella replied.
“Let him in!” Cassandra returned impatiently.
Abby heard a door open and all of a sudden Vivianna’s body shook. It felt to Abby like Vivianna was fighting something even as she was holding onto Abby. As this happened, Abby heard the unmistakable noise of a feline’s low growl. Abby kept shoving against Vivianna’s arm but twisted to see that Vivianna was trying to push off Abby’s cat, Zee, who was attached to Vivianna, growling, hissing, spitting and scratching.
Abby’s stomach did a nosedive.
“Who brought my cat?” Abby shouted, glaring down at her friends.
“We did, Mrs. Truman and me,” Jenny answered.
Vivianna jerked this way and that, still keeping firm hold on Abby’s waist and all of Abby’s limbs were pulled to the breaking point.
“I thought I said no Zee!” Abby snapped.
“We figured we could use all the help we could get!” Jenny snapped back. “And it looks like we weren’t wrong!”
Abby thought, somewhat hysterically, even though she wanted to she really couldn’t argue with that.
Vivianna’s struggles were fierce and Abby’s body was wrenched painfully with Vivianna’s fight against Abby’s cat as everyone kept hold on her limbs.
“Hold her steady,” Angus encouraged from somewhere behind Abby.
“You hold her steady! This ghosty she-bitch is strong and she’s freaking out!” Jenny cried as Vivianna gave a mighty tug at Abby’s waist and all of Abby’s friends went skidding several inches along the floor boards.
“Angus, goddamn it!” Cash shouted from somewhere close but also somewhere Abby could not see. She didn’t have time to look as she was still shoving against Vivianna’s arm and praying she nor Zee would be torn limb-from-limb.
Abby, however, didn’t have to see Cash. She knew by the tone of his voice that his patience was depleted and she knew exactly how he felt.
Then suddenly Angus shouted, “Now!”
Abby saw something golden and glistening fall around them. It settled at Abby’s waist then passed through, as if it was a mirage. Vivianna was yanked back viciously, Zee leapt away and at the same time all Abby’s protectors jerked her forward.
Vivianna’s arm came loose from Abby’s waist and Abby was falling.
She twisted automatically, not wanting to fall flat on her face but before she hit the ground, strong arms wrapped around her, one at her back, one at her thighs.
Abby looked up to see Cash had hold of her and he didn’t waste any time. He started sprinting, Abby in his arms, toward the door.
Abby saw Suzanne open it for them then Abby looked back, watching Angus struggling wildly with what looked like a golden rope which was lassoed around a mad-as-hell Vivianna’s waist.
Then she saw no more, they were out of the room and heading down the hall.
Halfway down the hall Cash stopped and put her on her feet. He grabbed her hand and started running again, dragging her on her high heels toward the stairs.
Abby noted absently that Zee was right there with them.
They rounded the
stairs and both of them (as well as Zee) came skidding to a halt.
There was a ghost on the stairs.
And it was not the ghost of Cash’s father.
Abby took one look at him and her chest expanded painfully at the same time her heart stopped beating.
Then, heart restarted, hammering in her chest, she whispered, “Ben?”
Ben’s ghostly eyes took in Abby for a moment, roaming lovingly over her face and down her body then they moved to Cash.
The minute her dead husband’s eyes hit her lover, Abby’s heart stopped beating again.
“Take her to the north parapet,” Ben told Cash, his beautiful, deep, sweetly familiar voice disembodied and hanging weirdly in the air.
“I’m not taking her to the parapet,” Cash ground out and Abby looked up at him.
His face was pale and tight, his eyes scorching and locked on Ben. One look at him and Abby knew that Cash knew to whom he was speaking.
“Trust me. Take her to the parapet,” Ben repeated and Cash ignored him, making to move forward.
Ben’s gaze swung to Abby. “Honey,” his beloved voice whispered the casual endearment, Cash’s body stilled and Abby felt her mouth fill with saliva as her eyes pricked with tears. Ben continued gently. “Get him to take you to the parapet.” Abby’s head shook jerkily both with fear and the all-consuming desire not to be seeing her dead husband’s ghost, not now, not ever, and Ben went on. “Please, Abby, trust me. We don’t have much time.”
Then he looked behind him, down the stairs, then back at Cash and Abby.
In an instant, he shimmered to nothing.
Immediately Cash pulled on Abby’s arm and moved forward saying, “Let’s go.”
Abby pulled back, Cash stopped two steps down and looked up at her, his hand still clasping hers.
“Darling, let’s go,” he demanded softly.
“Take me to the parapet,” Abby whispered.
Cash shook his head but his voice was still soft when he replied, “No fucking way.”
“Cash.”
“Abby, no fucking way.”
“Cash,” Abby said, “Ben would never hurt me. They have something planned. You have to take me to the parapet.”
“Abby, I’m certain you’ve already noticed that none of their plans are working. I’m not taking you to the parapet.”
She tightened her hand in his and walked down one step all the while looking into his eyes. “Please Cash. You can trust Ben, I promise. Take me to the parapet. Let’s finish this.” She stopped, noted he looked unyielding, so she begged, “Please.”
“You were flying through the air,” Cash returned.
“I know that.”
“She’s not sending you over the fucking parapet.”
“No, she’s not. You won’t let her,” Abby told him and finished on a whisper, “Neither will Ben.”
“Goddamn it Abby,” he gritted through his teeth and she felt a thrill of renewed fear mingled with elation because she knew he was relenting. She didn’t think she wanted him to at the same time she was glad that he was.
“We don’t have much time,” Abby urged on a tug of his hand, like she knew what she was talking about, which she did not.
He sucked air in through his nose, looked to the side then his eyes came back and locked on hers.
He walked up the steps.
Abby let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding.
Swiftly Cash guided her, hand still gripping hers, to the parapet. Zee raced along with them.
The whole time Abby did everything she could not to think about Ben on the staircase and what that meant.
Had he not gone on to the next plane like the rest of her family?
Had he been hanging about their house for the last four years, watching her mope around for three of them, then alone with the new owners for the last one?
How did he get to the castle?
Did Cassandra do this?
Did Jenny and Mrs. Truman know about this?
What did Cash think of seeing Ben?
What did Ben think of seeing Cash?
(Clearly, Abby failed at not thinking about Ben.)
They walked quickly up flight after flight of stone stairs, each one edging the side of the square parapet until Cash pushed up a wooden door in the ceiling. Zee darted forward and Cash led her through. When he had Abby on the roof, the cold air biting into her skin and through the thin satin of her dress, he shut the door.
“Cash,” Abby whispered.
Cash’s eyes sliced to her.
“Later,” he returned sharply.
“We have to –” Abby started.
Cash cut her off. “We have to keep you alive. That’s the primary focus. We’ll deal with the rest of it later.”
Abby started to move closer, saying “Cash –”
He opened his mouth to interrupt when they heard his name, his real name, Conner, said in a musical voice that shimmered through the air around them.
Cash and Abby turned toward the side of the parapet that faced the tor.
Yet another ghost was hovering there only a few inches off the ground. This one was a woman, older, pretty, dainty. She reminded Abby of Nicola but she had several years on her and a sadness about her that hadn’t yet fully blossomed in Nicola and, hopefully, with tonight’s events, never would.
“Gran?” Cash asked, his voice sounding stunned.
“Conner,” she replied on a charming smile that wiped all sadness from her expression.
“Holy crap. You’re Lorna,” Abby thought these words were in her head but when Lorna’s eyes came to her she realised she’d breathed them out loud.
“And you’re Abby.” Her smile deepened and her gaze moved back to her grandson. “The Beaumaris men always had good taste.”
“Wow,” Abby whispered, delighted at the compliment even in their highly unusual, very scary circumstances.
“Gran, what’s happening?” Cash clearly wasn’t feeling into family reunions of the spirit world. He had an objective, he was focused on that objective and even his grandmother’s phantasmic return from the grave wasn’t going to divert him from that objective.
Before Lorna could answer, they heard Mrs. Truman shriek from far away, “What are you doing up there!”
Abby moved to the edge but only caught a glimpse of Mrs. Truman, Jenny, Kieran and the rest of them standing in the courtyard outside, everyone illuminated by the blazing lights that customarily lit the castle. Abby saw all of them were looking up at the tower before Cash yanked Abby away.
“Don’t go near the edge,” he warned, his voice sounding a wee bit irritable.
“Cash Fraser!” Mrs. Truman shouted. “You get Abigail off that parapet this instant!”
“Who’s that?” Lorna asked and Abby jumped when she saw Cash’s ghostly grandmother floating at her side close to the edge looking down at the assemblage.
“Who’s that?” Mrs. Truman screeched, obviously catching sight of Lorna.
“That’s my friend,” Abby told Lorna then shouted as loud as she could, “It’s okay Mrs. Truman! Everything’s under control! This is Cash’s grandma!” Lorna turned amused eyes to Abby and Abby continued in a normal voice. “Um, sorry for shouting.”
Cash’s arm still around her ribcage, grew tighter. She didn’t know if this was amusement or something else. She reckoned it was something else so she decided not to look at him. She was already freaked out enough.
“That’s quite all right,” Lorna said on another sweet smile.
“Well!” Mrs. Truman shrieked. “She should know better! Cash’s Nan! You get Abigail and Cash off that parapet! Right now!” When no one immediately acquiesced to her demand, she finished on a bellow. “Don’t make me come up there!”
Cash let Abby go, leaned over the edge and yelled, “Kieran, I don’t care if you have to stake her to the turf, do not let her come up here.”
“You got it, gov,” Kieran shouted back.
At Kieran’s re
sponse, Abby glanced at Cash and saw his eyes roll to the heavens.
“And who’s that?” Lorna asked, peering over the edge again.
“Kieran, my best friend’s husband,” Abby replied. “My best friend is the redhead. Her name is Jenny.”
“Her gown is lovely,” Lorna commented, narrowing her eyes to look closer.
“I’ll tell her you said that,” Abby promised on a smile.
Lorna looked at Abby. “Your gown is lovely too.”
Abby put her hands out at her sides, tilted her chin down, her eyes skimming her dress then she glanced back at Lorna. “It’s my great-grandmother’s.”
“It’s extraordinary,” Lorna remarked.
“If I can interrupt your little chat,” Cash bit out and Abby and Lorna looked at him as he continued, “perhaps, Gran, you can tell us what the fuck is going on?”
That’s when they heard another ghostly voice say, “Conner, don’t speak to your grandmother that way.”
They all turned to see Cash’s father not hovering but standing on the roof like he had real feet even though he was see-through.
“Holy crap,” Abby breathed again, eyes staring at Anthony Beaumaris, “you just told Cash what to do.”
Anthony looked at Abby and replied, “He’s my son.”
Abby kept staring, her night so bizarre, her mouth somewhere along the line became disconnected from her brain so she blathered on, “I know but still, he’s a big guy and he’s scary. I’d never tell him what to do.”
Anthony gave her a look that stated, quite clearly, even in its supernatural weirdness, that he thought maybe she was a little touched.
Then his gaze moved to his son. “Bodes well for your future, son.”
“As pleased as I am to see you both,” Cash clipped, sounding anything but pleased, shrugging off his dinner jacket and settling its voluminous warmth on Abby’s shoulders before he continued, “on the top of a tower in the freezing, fucking cold at midnight when Abby doesn’t have a coat and her life hangs in the balance, I’d prefer it if someone would tell me what in the fuck is going on,” Cash clipped.
Abby leaned toward Lorna and muttered, “He has a short fuse.”
Lorna’s disembodied voice muttered back, “They all do, dear.”
Abby decided to explain Cash’s behaviour. “He says the f-word a lot when he’s angry.” Lorna looked at her. “And other times besides,” Abby finished, feeling the need to be truthful (it was Cash’s grandma).