The Haunted Heart: Winter by Josh Lanyon Read Free Book Online

me.”
    “It’s not the mirror. It’s upstairs.”
    “What’s upstairs?”
    “Upstairs is haunted. Not the mirror. The
top floor of this house is haunted.”
    His head fell back and he groaned. It
sounded heartfelt. Or maybe gutfelt. Either way, he plainly
expressed pain in every anguished particle of out-rushed sound.
“That’s impossible.”
    “I know. I agree. But I’m telling you, she’s
up there. I just saw her in the bathroom mirror. I think it was
her. Maybe not. Maybe it was another one.”
    Kirk raised his head and gawked at me. “What
are you talking about?”
    “Just now. I was getting ready for bed, and
when I looked in the mirror there was something else there. I think
it was her, but she didn’t look the same. She looked…I don’t know
how to describe it. She looked…her eyes were black and dripping.
She looked muddy, moss stained. You have to see it for
yourself.”
    “Yeah, I can’t wait to see that!”
    “Kirk, you have to hurry.”
    “Christ Almighty. This is where I came in.”
His black brows drew together in a genuinely forbidding glare. “You
know what I think, Flynn? I think you’re the common
denominator.”
    “Are you coming or not?”
    “How is this my problem?” A flat statement
of fact.
    My heart seemed to drop like a water balloon
hitting the pavement. “Oh. Well…true. Fair enough. It’s not your
problem.”
    I didn’t have another plan though, so I
continued to stand there like a wind-up toy one spring short of a
full key-turn.
    Kirk swore something passionate and
uncomplimentary, brushed past me, and headed for the stairs. For
the first time I noticed what he was wearing. Or rather, what he
wasn’t wearing, which was pretty much anything. Everything.
Nothing. He wore black briefs. And that was all he wore.
    And while I was never going to care about
such things again, I couldn’t help noticing that Kirk was put
together very nicely. Wide shoulders, narrow hips, long legs.
Everything in perfect proportion to everything else. He was made to
move, made for action, briskly jogging up the stairs while I
trailed behind.
    It wasn’t that I meant to trail behind. The
heart was willing, but all at once I seemed to have run out of
steam. Or adrenaline. Whichever it was that had kept me in motion
for the past…however long it was now. Steam was probably as likely
as anything else.
    Ahead of me, Kirk reached the top landing
and vanished inside my rooms. I grabbed the railing, hauling myself
past the winking, leering faces carved into the banister. Were the
expressions different now or was that my imagination?
    As I gained the top floor, Kirk called, “You
better get in here, Ambrose.”
    Ambrose again. He really was not
happy with me. Well, that made it universal.
    I found him in the bathroom inspecting the
mirror which was now filled with nothing more sinister than Kirk’s
black scowl. His dour reflected gaze met mine.
    “It’s like before,” I said. “If we turn off
the lights and wait, I’m sure she’ll show up.”
    He turned to face me. “Do you hear
yourself?”
    I listened to the mental echo. I said
cautiously, “Yeah?”
    “Really?”
    “Well…yeah.”
    Kirk gazed ceilingward. But if he was
looking for divine intervention it would have to come from the dead
moths in the dirty globe of the overhead light because the other
kind was asleep at the wheel. That I could guarantee.
    “I see,” he said with exaggerated patience.
“So did you want to take the tub or the toilet?”
    I glanced uncertainly at the now perfectly
ordinary bathroom cabinet mirror. “I…”
    “Yeah, me neither. I want you to listen to
me and listen carefully, Flynn. This house is not haunted. Not the
upstairs and not the downstairs. Do you think I wouldn’t have
noticed? I’ve lived here for two years. Your uncle would have
mentioned a ghost. It’s the mirror. If it’s anything.”
    “If it’s anything ? What does that
mean? You saw it yourself!”
    He winced. But the next