Chapter 26

Iwiped my sweaty palms on my jeans as I strode down the hall that led to Masterson's office. Should I have given her all the dirty details of my epic Nellie relocation session? Yes. Had I? Not so much.

To be honest, I hadn't wanted to point the spotlight on myself during the group session. Merri had a lot going on, and I didn't really know her that well. Sometimes, keeping my secrets was the only way I felt secure. But I'd gotten in trouble when Dr. Masterson found out I'd kept other developments from her in the past. I'd learned that lesson. She couldn't help me if she didn't know the truth.

Or at least the version of the truth I felt comfortable sharing. There was no way I was comfortable outright lying to her. Not after everything Masterson had done to help me. But I wasn't going to out Hades either. It had taken me a while to settle on a truth that was, well, truthful but not too truthful. Hades helped me, sure, but in this case, I thought it was best to say he was a person from the underworld who made certain Nellie could cross over. It wasn't a lie. Hades definitely hailed from the underworld. He just so happened to rule it as well.

Reaching Masterson's office, I gave the door a half-hearted knock. When there wasn't an immediate answer, I tested the door knob. If she was busy, it would be locked, so when it turned without issue, I just let myself in.

"Dr. Masters?—"

The office was empty. It still smelled faintly of her perfume, sweet and slightly cloying. Lilies, perhaps?

Well, shoot. There went all my big plans. I'd gotten myself all riled up for nothing. What a letdown. Heaving a sigh, I turned to leave when I felt it.

That electric tingle along my skin and the pressure pushing against my chest.

Ghost.

Specifically Cunty McCuntface.

I hadn't encountered my malevolent spirit since our run-in at the gala. Part of me had been waiting for her to show up again. She was sort of inevitable that way. It was like she hid in the shadows, building up her energy between jump scares. Such a bitch.

"I'm going to turn around on the count of three, and you aren't going to terrify me this time. Got it?" I said, willing my limbs not to tremble.

"One."

No, my breaths weren't shaky.

"Two."

And I definitely didn't have bubble guts.

"Three."

I turned around, eyes wide open, and stared at the shadowy female form that hovered an inch from my face.

I had to swallow my whimper. No amount of preparation would ever be enough. Her skin was a strange ash gray, eyes sunken dark pits, but now there was a faint blue glow in their depths. As with the last few interactions we'd had, she'd taken on even more of a human form. I didn't quite know what to do with that.

It didn't make her any less scary. Or menacing.

She was no Nellie, that's for sure.

The reminder of Nellie, of what I'd accomplished by simply talking to her and learning her story, was the push I needed to swallow my fear. Hadn't Cas asked me if I'd ever tried asking the spirit what she wanted? Or had that been Tor? Shoot, I couldn't remember. The idea had been so laughable at the time I'd immediately dismissed it.

It wasn't so laughable anymore.

The ghost leaned in so close I could feel the cold energy radiating off her. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and as she opened her mouth to no doubt scream in my face, I stopped her.

"Hi, uh, I'm Dahlia. You probably already know that since you're haunting me and everything. What's your name? What do you want? How can I help you?" I tried my best to give her a megawatt customer service smile, but I knew without needing a mirror that it was one hundred percent grimace.

She stopped, tipped her head to the side, and gazed at me. Or at least I assumed that's what she was doing. Hard to tell without pupils, or you know, eyeballs.

"I can do that now. Help. Do you have unfinished business? Maybe I can solve your murder? If we do, maybe you can move on. I know a guy. He can escort you if you need it."

Her energy was frenetic and oppressive as she assessed me. Fuck, I needed to get a handle on this because I really didn't want to touch her soul, but if I had to, I would. I'd toss her into the nearest creepy doll and lock her in a chest. We might end up with a real-life Chucky or Annabelle on our hands, but that could be someone else's problem.

"It must be really dark in your head to be so angry all the time. Did something bad happen to you?"

I was trying to remember what Hades had told me about souls and why they got corrupted. With Nautica, it had been because the vessel her spirit was in was dead, so it was destroying her soul. But this lady wasn't in a body, so what was her excuse? Was she just a big ol' meanie, or did she have a reason for being a ball of vengeful wrath?

Probably.

Maybe she died in the throes of a bitch of a period. I know that makes me pretty damn vengeful.

Her form flickered and disappeared, but the nearly painful hum of her energy didn't dissipate. In fact, it got stronger, causing the lights in the office to flicker. My gaze darted around the room as I tried to get a read on where she might rematerialize. I wasn't going to be caught off guard again. Nope. She wasn't going to make me flinch this time.

Fuck.

She appeared near the door, the sight of her making me jump. Dammit.

This time I couldn't swallow my scream, and I had to stand in place with my hand pressed against my chest while my heart returned to a semi-normal pace.

"Listen, lady. I'm really going to need you to simmer the fuck down. You are a lot to take when you're standing still. Once you start zooming around and jumping out of shadows, all bets are off. If you want my help, just stay where I can see you. And maybe dial down the ‘I'm going to steal your soul' vibes. No? Fine, it was just a suggestion."

I was rambling again, but it helped normalize a very not normal situation.

She turned her focus to the white lab coat hanging on the back of Dr. Masterson's door, her hand reaching out as if she was going to touch the fabric but, of course, passing right through. Was she a nurse here once upon a time? A patient? Oh! Maybe she'd also been a doctor a long time ago.

Why did I suddenly feel like I was playing a ghostly version of charades?

While I was trying to parse out the meaning of her actions, she started to shrink.

Wait, no. Not shrink. The bitch was melting into the floorboards.

"Hey! That is not what we agreed on. You're supposed to stay where I can?—"

My protest died on my tongue as one of the floorboards rattled, the perfect seal breaking and leaving the board raised just a hair.

"What the actual fuck?" I whispered, approaching it and kneeling down to inspect the damage. With careful fingers, I pried the board up until I found a secret compartment hidden underneath. "You have to be kidding me."

I was fully shaking as I reached inside and pulled out a rolled-up bit of white cloth. I already had a terrible feeling about what it was; I didn't know if I had the stomach to find out whether my suspicions were correct.

The ball of fabric was white—or had been at some point. Now it was dusty from being shoved in the compartment, and... stained.

"Oh fuck. Oh God. Please..."

I stood as I unballed the fabric, a rust-colored stain clearly visible on the white doctor's coat. The stain spread down the front, but even discolored, I could easily distinguish the blue embroidered name across the breast. Dr. Elizabeth Masterson and the Blackwood Estate logo just underneath.

Before I could react, a crash sounded from behind me, causing me to spin around and nearly lose my balance.

"Now you're just freaking me out on purpose," I grumbled, already moving to collect the fallen object. It must have been important. Why else would she have gone to such lengths to get me to look at it?

"You could try using your words, you know. A please never hurt anyone."

The floor was dented where the heavy award had landed. I glanced up at the bookcase and found the empty space on the very top shelf taunting me because I'd need a stool to put it back.

"This thing is a fucking weapon. I'm going to have a word with Masterson about safety because if that had been my hea—" My words faltered as I inspected the heavy marble trophy with Masterson's name engraved on the front.

Something caught my eye, something that shouldn't be there on the white stone. Blood stained the sharp angle of the bottom corner, and as I turned the statue over, my skin went clammy. The truth in what I'd just been saying hit me hard enough I was speechless.

My gaze went from what was clearly a murder weapon to the ghost now floating next to the desk. Except she didn't look like the terrifying manifestation who'd haunted me for so long. My stomach churned as I took in the bespectacled eyes I knew so well, the cupid's bow lips, and the short stature. But most of all, my attention wouldn't leave the caved-in side of her head, blood running down her face and neck, soaking her white lab coat.

"Dr. Masterson?"

My stomach clenched with a cocktail of nausea and terror.

"Oh no. Not you too." But then I shook my head. "But we killed him. The Ripper is gone, so who..."

I trailed off, my heart already realizing something my brain didn't want to acknowledge.

The dried blood on the coat was old, not new. And this ghost had been haunting me since I'd arrived at Blackwood. Which meant...

"If you've been dead since I got here, who have I been talking to all this time?"