Under the Floorboards (and In the Walls)

Please Don't Let Me Go-Lucy

I shivered. Shivered?

My eyes opened to my attic bedroom. The relief of escaping the nightmare was short. My room was cold. And not "the heat stopped working again" cold. This was visitor cold. Like in my dream. There was a feeling of malaise gripping my chest. Rising from the foot of the bed, wary and wispy, was a phantasm.

I sucked in a breath of air. The visitor had now formed enough that I could see its gaping mouth and the tendrils had formed into a semblance of hands. I could feel the effect of ghost-lock and knew that a second more of hesitation would mean death.

Flinging the covers off, I dove off of the bed toward the door. The visitor surged forward as and I felt the sharp pain of ghost touch.

"Ahhhh" My legs gave out and I fell forward onto face. My left leg was ghost-touched. Twisting around to face the visitor I grabbed for the only weapon I could think of. The silver necklace that Lockwood gave me before the Fittes ball. It was around my neck but with a sharp tug I had broken it free and waved it to ward off the ghost. It did little. With a last desperate attempt, I flung the necklace at the visitor and rising, dashed through the door to the stairs.

My heart had more strength than my poor legs. They simply would not cooperate. Screaming, I tumbled down the steep steps. Steps and wall and steps and wall and railing turned in my vision. I landed with one final and painful thud. For one second the adrenaline surged and then receded. All of my injuries fell on me at once.

My head hurt. My arm hurt. My other arm hurt. I think I broke a rib and my wrist ached. But worst of all my leg did not hurt. It was numb. Not a good sign.

I tried to scream but my breath was completely knocked out of me. Thankfully, it was not necessary. Lockwood was kneeling next to me. He had a rapier in his right hand. Apparently, I fell loudly enough.

"What the heck happened??" He demanded, eyes narrowed, but I could see the soft concern peeping through.

"Phantasm." I gasped. "In my room."

"Again?"

"My leg." I tried to sit up and Lockwood wrapped his arm around me as he gave a furtive glance up the stairs. The visitor had not followed. Surprising. But it was growing to morning. It might not be strong enough to venture far from its source. Whatever that may be. But I didn't have the leisure to think on that now.

Sticking out from my nightgown was a blue and rapidly swelling leg. I shut my eyes against the pain of my other injuries. I could feel more than hear Lockwood catch his breath. He passed his hand gently over my knee, assessing how far it had spread.

"Call an ambulance." Lockwood ordered.

I briefly opened my eyes again to see George standing at the door to his room, mouth agape. He must have gotten home after I went to bed. Of course, he wasn't wearing trousers. But you don't need trousers to call an ambulance and George was racing down the stairs.

I closed my eyes again. My leg began to throb. I didn't want to look at it. I hated ghost touch. Lockwood shook me roughly. I wished he would stop it.

"Wake up Luce." He sounded desperate. Not the cool-headed leader I knew so well. I looked up at him with blurring vision. His dark eyes were full of worry, he wasn't trying to hide it anymore. "Don't you dare close your eyes on me. Talk to me. Please."

"Anthony," I said, "I didn't know you kept a rapier in your bedroom." If Lockwood noticed I slipped up and used his first name, he didn't mention it.

Lockwood dropped the rapier he had been holding and held me up against his chest with both arms. I felt safer there. And warm. And drowsier. "After Annabelle Ward, I decided it would be a good precaution."