“I’ll say.” Killian held out his arm and pushed up his sleeve. “The hairs on my arm are standing up.” And they were.
I snuck a closer look at him. He was wearing a black, double-breasted military coat, which fell to his calves. The two rows of buttons were gold, and he looked mighty snazzy in it. His hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and he had on a pair of black earmuffs. All in all, he looked good.
“Do you mind if I ask how old you are?” I blurted out.
He blinked, tilting his head. “Why?”
I couldn’t very well say that I wanted to know if he fit in my dating window. Granted, I had already asked him to the Winter Carnival, but his reaction made me wonder if age was a sore subject with him. I shrugged, deciding not to push it.
“No reason,” I said, turning back to the building. “I guess I’d better get in there and look around.”
“Wait, you’re actually going inside?” He shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Besides ghosts, there could be derelicts in there, or vagrants.”
“Most of the homeless aren’t going to hurt you,” I said. “And I can’t very well investigate this case if I don’t even set foot inside. If there are ghosts attached, if Psy Schooner is still hanging around on the astral plane, I need to find out everything I can.”
“You are not going in there without protection,” Killian said. “Wait here.” He crossed back to his SUV and reached in the back seat, coming out with a sturdy-looking baseball bat.
I frowned. “You carry a bat in your car?”
“For protection. I don’t like guns. I do own a shotgun, just in case I ever have the need to put some poor creature down when I’m checking out horses or livestock. But I don’t like handguns.” He paused at my look of confusion. “What?”
“I thought you were a vet, as in cats and dogs?”
“I am, but I also treat large animals, if need be. I worked on a farm a long time ago, taking care of the livestock.” He smiled, gripping the bat. “Come on, then, let’s get moving.”
I steeled my courage and led the way toward the asylum. It occurred to me that I should probably start carrying something in my car, as well. I had been through a couple of self-defense courses, and I wasn’t exactly a couch potato, but it might not hurt to join the local gym. If I was going to be out investigating, I should keep up with my weights and yoga.
We reached the entrance to the building. The broken remains of a padlock and chain were evidence that it had once been locked shut, but now the door was ajar. The cops had probably gone through the building when they found Arabella and the homeless man. Or maybe not. They were found in the woods, and from what I could tell by the police report, they had both been found in back of the asylum, about a hundred feet into the forest.
Whatever the case, I reached out and—with a gloved hand—opened the door.
It swung wide with a creak. The hinges were rusted, but still working. I fished in my purse. Tad had given me a clip-on headlamp to use and I slid it over my head, positioning it so that the light shone directly in front of me. I felt a little silly, but it was better than walking into a dark building, and I doubted that the electricity would be working. Since the windows that weren’t broken were grimy with age, not a lot of light could come through.
“I’m glad you have light,” Killian said from behind me.
“I wasn’t about to go in without it.” I shivered when I saw the cobwebs hanging from the ceiling. Spider webs—or rather the remains of them, given it was December—stretched everywhere. As I looked around, it occurred to me that the room we had entered had been the reception area. Several doors led off from behind the counter, as well as a door leading to a hall to the right, and one that mirrored it to the left.
Killian examined the door leading to the left hallway. “I believe these were electronically locked, but without electricity, I imagine…” He paused, turning the handle. Sure enough, there was a clicking sound and the door opened. “And we’re in. Which way do you want to go first?”
I glanced at my phone. The reception wasn’t the best, but the clock still worked. It was 12:45. I had to leave by 2:30 to make my appointment with Charles Crichton.
“Well, let’s just head this way. I don’t really know what I’m looking for, but I guess I’ll know when I see it.” I motioned to the hall that stretched in front of us and he set off, with me following. I grimaced as we came to a large web that had spread across the entire hallway.
Killian reached out with his baseball bat and swept it through the web, bringing it down. “There must be some pretty ambitious spiders around here,” he said with a laugh.
“Yeah, I guess.” I shivered. Spiders scared me, even though I knew they were good for the environment. As long as they stayed outside in their webs, we were fine, but inside? My territory and I didn’t want to share. I wasn’t fond of bugs in general, except for ladybugs. Those I liked and would even pick up on my finger.
Killian pointed to our right. “Well, the hall runs down to the end, I think, though I can’t quite tell if it turns there.”
A row of doors spread out to our right. To our left were the wide bay windows that lined the wall. Over the years, time and kids with rocks had broken a good share of them. Sure enough, most of the windows along this hallway had been broken. I peered out one of the broken panes, cautious because of the shattered glass on the floor. From here, I could see our cars in the front parking lot. There was snow on the hallway floor in places where it had blown in through the broken panes.
As we came to the first door on the right, I swallowed my nerves and yanked open the door.
Nothing. Dead silence. Inside, there was absolutely nothing to indicate what the room had been used for. Every cupboard, counter, and piece of furniture had been taken out, leaving the room completely bare. But even a bare room could have psychic residue.
I walked to the center of the room. Slowly, I closed my eyes and drifted deep into a standing trance. Standing trances were different than sitting trances, because I still had to keep myself anchored enough to not keel over. I couldn’t open my third eye entirely, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. If I opened my psychic senses too wide, there was a chance something could possess me.
I listened. It was as though I was still standing in the room, but it wasn’t quite the same room. I was out on an etheric layer of the room.
As I turned, I began to see cold spots—areas where the psychic energy was stronger. One corner of the room was lit up like a Yule tree. I slowly advanced in that direction. It could be residue—energy that had just fastened onto the area and stagnated. Or there could still be something there.
As I reached the place where the energy was most intense, a sudden flash filled the room and a bolt that looked suspiciously like lightning streaked out of the cold spot, striking me in the chest. The bolt threw me backward against the wall, and I went down, hard.
Chapter Eight
“January! Are you okay?” Killian raced forward as I slammed to the floor, sliding down the wall.
Too stunned to do or say anything, I sat there, waiting for the next attack. My heart was beating as hard as the opening riff of Led Zeppelin’s “When the Levee Breaks,” a band that my ex had forbidden me to play while he was in the house. Shaking, I groaned as I rolled over, using the wall to steady myself as I tried to stand.