Bill laughed. “Honey, we’re the same. I seen the ghosts a few times, Cecilia makin’ eyes at me like she was pissed, but I knew better.” Then his voice changed. It smoothed out, more cultured, more in the now. “Lara, he and I are the same. I won’t say he’s haunting me, but I’m him. Just like you’re her.”
She didn’t think so, the more she pondered the idea. Cecilia had called her here, had talked to her and laughed and teased and warned. But she didn’t dwell in Lara’s thoughts for more than the moments she tried to get Lara’s attention.
“So you’re Bill, with Michael Fury’s memories?”
“Curious, aren’t you?” That was Bill. They stopped at the second floor. “Okay, hero, go to the end of the hall and open the door. It leads to the attic. Your little friend can’t wait to see you again. What a pretty gal.” He sneered, then turned to Lara with a straight face. “Don’t be jealous. The others have always been play while I waited for you. You see, Lara, you’re the spitting image of Cecilia, Michael’s true love. He lost her years ago to his faithless younger brother. But he set that to rights. Now it’s just you and me.”
He hugged her, and she forced herself to ignore the spot of blood on his collar. Oh God, where had that come from?
“I still don’t understand. You’re Bill Knowles, with Bill’s thoughts and feelings. So Bill wants this?” She spoke slowly, not wanting to rile him with her questions. But as long as he concentrated on her, Noah remained clear of his direct attention.
Bill ended the hug and shoved her toward the stairs. He waited for her and Noah to walk up in front of him; then he stopped them at the top, and they entered the attic in a small group.
Chloe drooped, unconscious, tied to a wooden chair. She looked a little bruised but still wore all her clothes, none of them bloodstained. Her chest rose and fell evenly.
“Sit there,” Bill ordered Noah and waited until Noah sat on the ground next to Chloe.
There wasn’t much space for him to move, trapped on one side by Chloe and surrounded by lit candles all around. Everything centered around the portrait Noah had come to claim.
Bill suddenly slapped Lara across the face. The sting and unexpectedness of his action stunned her. Noah yelled out and rose but stopped when Bill aimed the gun at Chloe.
“One move and she dies.” He waited for Noah to resume his seat. “You sit there and wait for your turn.” An unnatural wind ruffled the thick drapes by the attic’s lone window. Bill slid the gun along Lara’s bruised cheek but didn’t take his gaze from Noah. “Don’t talk down to me, whore. I don’t like it. Now, to answer your questions. I’m fully in my right mind. I don’t need the ghost of Michael Fury to tell me what to do. I like women, Lara. Their smell, their taste, the way they moan when they’re riding a nice hard cock.” He fitted her hand around his erection.
She wanted to gag but stayed silent, letting him have his say. Frank, where are you?
“But the best is watching the life leave their eyes. For just a moment, you can see that spark, that part of the soul that makes us what we are. Of course, that’s before it leaves. A rush of blood, of cum, maybe some other nastier body fluids. Whatever’s there just pours out along with that spark of life.” He sighed. “Yeah, that’s what I love most about women. I’ve had my share, but you were my biggest challenge. Michael has been with me for a long time. He helped me overcome a lot in my life, but he’s not always here. I let him in sometimes.” He snickered. “Hell, when we’re fucking, it’ll actually be like a ménage. You, me, and Michael.”
He glanced at the portrait, and his features slacked. Michael had returned. “I’m so happy you’re here, Cecilia. I missed you, even though you are a two-timing slut. But Finn was like that, stealing whatever was mine. His fault Mama died, you know. I didn’t mean to kill her, but she asked for it. She took his side over mine. And then…”
His voice changed; Bill was back. “It happened all over again. My mother loved me, I know, but sometimes love hurts. I had to kill her. Her and her younger sister. The fire wiped them clean. And then Aunt Ida came. She knew what I’d done, but she loves me.” He frowned. “I thought she did. She knew what I was doing, the women I played with. The fun we had. She and I were in it together, forever. And then she fussed at me because of my cousin, her dear little nephew, the Keystone Cop. He’s not a problem any longer though, is he?”
“And Ida?”
“She’s not either.” Bill’s smile gave her the shivers. Nothing sane lived in that gaze. “In fact, she’s lying in bed, trying to hold her intestines in. Just like Aunt Brenda died. Waiting for the flames to lick her right up.” He beamed. “Now we’re going to play a game. You get to pick which one of them”—he looked at Noah and Chloe—“I cut first. In fact, we’re going to cut them together, just like a real couple in love, Cecilia.”
Bill Knowles or Michael Fury, the man standing so close to her was a danger to them all. She had no doubt he’d kill her once he finished with the others.
“No.”
Bill tensed. He withdrew a blade from his pocket and shoved the tip of it under her chin. “Don’t tell me no. I love you. You always hurt the one you love, Cecilia.” He laughed, a maniacal chuckle that convinced her she was living a nightmare.
She smiled at him with all the warmth she could muster. It threw him off balance, enough for her to back toward the stairs. He followed her, as she’d meant.
His laughter ceased. “Get the fuck over here, now.” A shadow of a man appeared next to him. An image of anger, brute strength, and a helpless devotion to a woman he could never have. Michael Fury.
“Lara, listen to him,” Noah ordered.
Instead of answering, she threw Michael Fury and Bill Knowles a dare. “Come and get me, sugar.”
He/they growled and took another step closer.
Everything happened then in slow motion, all at once. Noah launched himself from his spot on the floor but was too far away to reach her. In doing so, he knocked a few candles over, which lit the dry floorboards on fire. Something crashed through the large attic window and got caught in the drapes blocking out the light. Lara embraced Bill when he neared her and swung them around so that his back was to the stairs. Then a ghostly shove and an inhuman shriek knocked them both down the stairs. They tumbled down head over heels, and the gun went off.
Pain flared in her leg. Bill gripped her shirt and refused to let go, sputtering and shouting before his head hit one of the steps a little too hard. They landed in a heap at the base of the stairs, neither of them able to move.
“Get Chloe,” she heard Noah shout. “Lara.” He raced down the stairs and leaped over them. Then he pulled her to her feet and took her in his arms. “Lara. Are you okay?” He paled. “Oh shit. You’re hurt. Baby, you’re bleeding.”
Frank appeared at the top of the steps holding Chloe in a fireman’s hold over his shoulder. Behind them, Mike Buckman stood glowering.
Then Bill laughed, still curled up in a ball on the floor. Lara swore she could see a faint glow over his body, as if he moved with Michael Fury working him like a puppet. She’d swear Bill’s neck looked bent at an odd angle, yet that didn’t deter the gun in his hand. Noah spun Lara around, his body between her and death readying to fire. “Fuck y—”
“You,” Deputy Mike Buckman finished as he fired into Bill’s body. Five shots in a row before he stopped. “That was for my mother, you piece of shit.” He lowered the gun to his side and tapped the frame of the painting against his legs with his other hand. “Party’s over, folks. The attic’s on fire. We need to get out of here. Noah, get Lara out. Frank, take Chloe. I’ll check on Ida.”