The Abandoned - By Amanda Stevens Page 0,13

the young woman in the blue dress. I’m almost certain of that. I think that woman was her mother, Ilsa. According to the inscription in the book, Ilsa was ten years old in 1915. Violet was well into her eighties when she died, which means she would have been born in the early twenties when Ilsa was a teenager.”

“How do you suppose Violet ended up in the psychiatric hospital?”

“I have no idea. But she was there for years. As long as anyone on staff can remember. I think her confinement was somehow connected to her mother. Something bad happened to Ilsa in this cemetery.”

“You said you heard chanting in your dream. Could you tell what they were saying?”

“Not really. I had the sense that it was some sort of ritual, but it was just a dream.”

“And yet here you are.”

Here he was, too. Ree had to wonder about a man who could seem so completely at ease in an abandoned cemetery in the dead of night.

“It’s possible Ilsa is trying to communicate with you,” he said.

“Through my dream?”

“Have you had any other unusual experiences? Cold spots, electrical surges, anything like that?”

Ree thought about the radio playing in her bedroom and the stopped clock beside Violet’s bed. She thought about the frosted windows, the musty smell in her apartment, the sensation of someone behind her. And she drew a shaky breath.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I don’t believe in ghosts.”

“Noted.”

“But…ever since Violet died, I’ve had this sensation of being followed, of needing to glance over my shoulder. And I’ve been hearing this strange song. It’s so haunting. Like a lost memory.”

“Go on.”

“That’s pretty much it. It’s all just my imagination, of course. I’ve been working too hard and I’m under a lot of pressure with my thesis. The mind can play tricks when exhausted.”

“Are you sure that’s all it is?”

She hugged her arms around her middle. “There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

“Before tonight, you probably thought sleepwalking in an old graveyard pretty unlikely.”

“That’s different.” But an icy finger traced along Ree’s spine. “Do you really think I’m experiencing some sort of paranormal activity?”

He turned to gaze out over the crumbling graveyard. “I think there are a lot of things in this world—and the next—that can’t be explained.”

His tone, more than his words, deepened Ree’s chill. “Supposing I am being haunted. Why me?”

“Could be a simple matter of proximity. The ghost needed a conduit and you were handy. Or…”

She glanced at him. “Or what?”

“There’s a Chinese legend about hungry ghosts. Entities that devour human emotions. Spirits whose sole purpose is to sustain themselves in our realm by feeding on our warmth and energy.”

It disturbed Ree greatly that he didn’t appear to be joking this time. “How do you get rid of them?”

“You don’t. They get rid of you by slowly draining your life force.”

She hugged herself more tightly. “Just so you know…I still don’t believe in ghosts. But if you’re trying to frighten me, you’re doing a damn fine job.”

“Good. Because until you know the kind of entity you’re dealing with, you have to tread carefully. Best-case scenario, this ghost has an agenda. In which case, all you have to do is find out what she wants.”

“As simple as that.”

“Dealing with ghosts is never a simple matter,” he warned. “Rule Number One: hope for the best and prepare for the worst.”

“What’s Rule Number Two?”

He hesitated. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

“We?”

“I’m a ghost hunter, you’ve got a ghost. Match made in heaven. Or hell, depending.”

Looking back the next morning, Ree could almost believe the episode in the cemetery had been part of her “Ilsa” dream because the alternative was just too distressing. At some point during the night, she’d gotten out of bed, left her apartment wearing nothing but pajamas and trekked all the way across campus and through the woods where she’d somehow scaled the wall of an abandoned cemetery and tried to seduce a complete stranger. She hated to think what could have happened if anyone but Hayden had been in that graveyard.

But he’d been the perfect gentleman. Not only had he seen her home safely, he’d even provided his cell phone number in case she found herself in another compromising situation. He’d been so kind, in fact, that Ree had felt obligated to return the favor. Well…not obligated really. In truth, she’d wanted to make it easy for him to contact her because he was the first guy she’d felt attracted to in ages.

After he’d dropped her