Midnight Ruling (Book #2 of The Demon's Grave)

By E.M. MacCallum

Being safe and at home has its downfalls. The subjects of media controversy, Nora and Aidan realize that they made a terrible mistake coming home. The only way to get their friends back is to visit Nora's murderous aunt in the asylum.

But when a skeptical group of students don't believe the media's story, they begin to follow Nora and Aidan and things go very wrong, very fast.

Without access to the Demon's Grave, their friends could be lost forever. But, with access, there could be a few new players in Damien's game, and with that comes death.

• Language: English
• Publisher: E.M. MacCallum
• Release date: Aug 9, 2015
• ISBN: 9780994778246

E.M. MacCallum

E.M. likes long walks through book stores, anything Disney and stories featuring the fantastical, gothic or horrific.She grew up in southern Alberta, Canada.

Book preview

At the scream, Phoebe Williams spun around.

She stood between the twin beds of the motel room, her concentrated gaze on the front door. I noticed that she wore an unfamiliar hoodie over the tube-top she'd left our world in. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her angular face appeared gaunt and haggard.

The beds on either side of her were in shambles. Their mattresses had been flipped up in a flimsy barricade at the foot of the beds. The stained bedsheets hung over the windows and the bedside lamp in an attempt to dim it.

A hand shot out and grabbed Phoebe's shoulder from behind.

Elbow up, Phoebe stopped herself from plowing Read Wallace's face. They jerked away from each other. Even Read appeared weary and thin. After a pause, he managed a frail smile, cracking the dried blood on the side of his sharp cheekbone. His dark brown hair, which was regularly primed to perfection, was ruffled and crusted with blood and mud. A few days ago, this would have thrilled Phoebe in a sense of cruel satisfaction. Today, it appeared to make her worry.

Phoebe brushed a strand of her honeyed hair from her eyes. She nodded to him and tapped her ear, as if to ask, You heard it too?

Read's grey eyes flickered from Phoebe to their third survivor before nodding an affirmative.

Robin Thurston stood on the box spring to their right. She didn't return their prying eyes. In her white-knuckled, child-like hands, she gripped a splintered baseball bat.

Unlike her two companions, Robin was at least a head shorter than both. Her petite frame made her appear vulnerable. Her chin-length dark hair streaked with golden brown was wet and in tangles. The once blue and white striped sundress was smudged with dirt and had rips in the hip and right sleeve.

Unexpectedly, Robin's green eyes snapped up to look at me.

Until that moment, it felt like I'd been watching a movie or even been in Phoebe's head. I'd been a distant observer until now, and Robin's recognition made my heart bitch-slap my throat.

Robin's mouth formed a perfect 'O' before the shock wore off and she managed to shout. Look out! Her words were slowed; I could see her mouth move but her words came a half a second later. For someone so small, you wouldn't expect such a booming voice.

My insides jolted at the shrillness. I hadn't even realized they could see me. They'd never seen me before.

Phoebe and Read looked over at me looking stricken. Neither spoke, but they looked ready to charge. I saw no love in their eyes, even though it was obvious they recognized me.

A flash of white interrupted the crude reunion. Jumping in surprise, we all looked to the bed Robin stood on.

From beneath, a hairless, bloodless hand shot out. It curled pointed, narrow fingers that were too long around Robin's bare ankle.

When she'd left our world, Robin had knee-high boots. It looked as though she'd abandoned them since.

I screamed her name, but I doubt she could hear me over her own resounding, delayed shrieks.

Robin stood up to pull away and tried to beat the hand with her bat. Her urgency dulled her aim.

In a merciless response, the elbow at the bottom of the bed jerked, thumping the floor and pulling Robin off her feet.

In a flailing attempt for balance, Robin's arm hit the mattress fort. It collapsed away from them, and Robin landed hard on the unyielding box spring.

Robin's free hand moved to her throat, the wind knocked out of her. I tried to move to help her.

Every muscle was stone-tight, dead to every response. The attempt made my stomach warm, a sensation I was all too familiar with in the Demon's Grave.

Was that where I was? Back in the Grave?

I didn't scramble for the logic in the idea. Aidan and I had escaped, leaving all of our friends behind, and yet here I was, back with them.

Despite the horror, it felt right. I had to get them back. They didn't belong here, and it was our fault. We'd left them.

Someone help her! I heard frailty in my voice.

Phoebe dropped to the floor and kicked at the white elbow under the bed, careful not to get too close.

Read jumped on the bed and knelt to pick at the white fingers wrapped around Robin's ankle.

With another violent jerk, Robin was flung off of the bed, and she crashed into Phoebe on the floor. Phoebe was able to catch Robin before the small girl clocked her head on the opposite bed.

Gripping Robin's arms, Phoebe began to shout at Read.

This time I wasn't able to hear what she was saying. Phoebe's eyes snapped back up to me. It was either a silent plea or an accusation. It was so fast that I couldn't tell.

Read gripped the edge and punched the white forearm, leaving no mark, and still, it wouldn't release Robin.

The splintered bat rolled to a stop at my feet. I made to pick it up but felt no response from my body.

Straining to look down at myself, I would have staggered back if I wasn't already paralyzed. My feet had faded. I could see the scraped floor through my bare toes. Feeling ill, I caught Phoebe's helpless gaze.

Setting her mouth in a grimace, Phoebe turned back to Robin and pulled hard. Robin gripped Phoebe's biceps, twisting her friend's hoodie in her fists. I couldn't hear Robin anymore. Tears wet her face, but her sobs were mute.

Read grabbed Robin's waist and pulled with Phoebe. Except when they pulled, the monster countered with a powerful tug of its own.

Robin yelled as her calves disappearing under the bed. Her frantic expression morphed into something heart-wrenching and frightening. I didn't know if it was pain or if her fear reached a breaking point. But something had snapped. Robin wasn't there anymore; she thrashed wildly, her eyes desperate but vacant.

I tried to twitch, to move. My heart racing, I knew I had to get in there somehow. This was all my fault. I could have traded myself, but selfishly, I didn't.

Read and Phoebe managed to pull Robin out an inch when the monster gave such a tug it forced them to fall forward. Read's ribs hit the corner of the stiff box spring. I saw him yell, and without thinking, he let go of Robin.

Despite her effort, Phoebe had hit the nightstand and lost Robin as well.

Robin disappeared into the darkness beneath the bed.

Blood speckling the floor, reflecting lamplight, but I couldn't see who bled.

Read grabbed Phoebe's arm, and they leaned on each other to stand.

Something they heard made them both stop in mid-motion and look to the bed.

In their pause, the bloodless hand swiped from the darkness and snagged Read's arm. Before he could protest, the monster yanked Read to the floor.

Phoebe dove to fall on top of him, but the creature was faster.

Falling, she landed on hardwood with a wincing bounce.

Read vanished in a blur beneath the bed and into the abyss.

Phoebe screamed. I could hear her at last, though it was faint, like hearing a voice through the wall.

She dropped to her hands and knees, peering under the bed and shouting until she turned her dark green eyes to me. Her eyebrows furrowed in frustration, and she opened her mouth to speak when a hand shot from the dark and grabbed her around her neck.

Phoebe's legs gave one last kick before the monster stole her away from me.

The familiar warmth in my stomach shattered the paralysis. The shards of the explosion snapped like an elastic over every muscle.

I fell to my side, my muscles aching, feeling new and uncoordinated. Crawling, my frantic breath pierced the silent air, sounding loud to my ears.

Without thinking, I reached a hand under the bed.

I was too late, but I didn't want to leave it at this and let them die before we could get them back.

The hideous hand shot out and grabbed my wrist.

Warmth gnawed at my stomach and trickled up into my skin. The unnatural, white flesh was loose, as if it wasn't entirely attached to the bone and muscle beneath. The elongated, bony fingers tightened their grip and jerked me forward.

The monster under every child's bed had taken my friends, and now it would have me.

The fire in my flesh roared upward into my head, making me dizzy, and I choked on acid on my throat.

Eyes opening, I took the first, clean breath.

The shadows on the familiar wall skittered away, like spiders.

Heart thundering, I took another deep, jagged breath and shook my head hard enough to give me a headache, but it meant I was awake.

Just another nightmare.

I touched the warm sweat on my forehead, brushing the blonde, matted hair to the side of my face. My body was sticky from the fear, suctioning my t-shirt to my upper body like a second skin. The prickly fire in my skin and head were gone.

Who needed exercise when you had nightmares like these? If only they weren't true—to a point.

Almost every night since returning home, I'd dreamt of the friends Aidan and I had left behind. A new nightmare, new scrapes, bruises, and horrors for them to face. Usually, they never saw me.

Sitting up, I grabbed the glass of water at the side of my bed and drank greedily, letting the cool water burn my dried throat. I felt it slosh in my stomach a second later.

College would be starting again today, though neither Aidan nor I were going. I glanced at the little red digital lights on my alarm clock. 3:00am.

I frowned. It was just another nightmare, I told myself again, hoping to calm my shaky nerves as I set the glass down with an unsteady hand.

Two weeks ago, our little group decided to have a party at Aidan's late grandfather's house in the woods. The Victorian home was beautiful until we discovered the forbidden third floor.

The tower room was the only place Aidan wasn't allowed as a kid, and for good reason.

Inside, we found a little blue marble door that should have opened to the roof. Instead, we opened a gateway to a demonic world. The Demon's Grave, otherwise known as the darkness between worlds.

Dismal and dark…

The guardian, Damien, sentenced us to a series of Challenges, six for the six of us. If we won, we got to go home. If we lost, we were his forever.

Only Aidan Birket and I made it out alive. The most unlikely of the group.

Aidan had a chance to get them all back. He could have sacrificed me to Damien, but he chose not to. Why? I'm uncertain. Damien had found out some things while we were there and used them against us. Like how Aidan's grandfather had guarded the Demon's Grave. It was a birthright that should have passed onto Aidan's cousin, but he died too soon. That just left Aidan, the next in line. Aidan had been unaware of his new sentinel title as Keeper and of what lurked in his grandfather's home.

My own dirty little secret belonged to my Aunt Nell, who wanted entry into the Demon's Grave. She tried to sacrifice me when I was five. She murdered my twin sister instead, and somehow it botched the whole thing. She tried to gain access by sacrificing her two accomplices, but that only earned me a fun zombie Challenge. I didn't want that for my friends, to die and stay in the Grave forever as Damien's puppets.

He'd asked me before I'd left if I wanted to stay. He offered to free them all in exchange for me.

I touched my lips. I could imagine feeling his lips, just before he shoved me back into our world.

There was only one option left, and we were going to find it out today.

Part of me was eager to get my friends back and stop the nightmares, while the other part would rather stay where it was safe. This world was snug and warm. There were people here who loved me and cared about me. The Demon's Grave, though…that's a whole different can of crazy.

CHAPTER TWO

The ride to Windmane Asylum felt like eight hours instead of two.

The winding roads curved to reveal yet another falling rocks sign. Each time I saw one my eyes involuntarily roamed up the craggy mountainside. Aidan's old station wagon was sturdy but not enough to keep us from being crushed.

There were several tunnels in the side of the mountain. I couldn't help but notice both of us stiffen the second we entered the darkness in the middle of the day. With the sun so abruptly banished, the dim fluorescent lights weren't enough to put either of us at ease.

Doubt started beating up my courage. Did I really want to do this? Did I want to find a way back in there? To face Damien? I bit my lips together, remembering his farewell.

Mostly, I didn't want to go back. I wanted to stay here where it was safe, while another voice whispered in the back of my mind, a pleading, small voice. I wanted to go back but not just to save them.

I squirmed in my seat. We finally cleared one of the last tunnels.

Aidan rubbed his leg with his free hand. His limp had lessened, but it was obvious that it still bothered him. My cuts had healed, and the bruises had faded past the disgusting green. Despite the physical healing, our minds were still screwy. The nightmares drained me and reminded me of that strange warmth I always felt while there.

I didn't want to drag Aidan with me, but he got this hostile look about him each time I brought it up. So I stopped. If it weren't for this mission to save our friends, I believe we'd go crazy.

It was ironic to be driving to an asylum with that idea.

The Welcome to the City of Windmane sign came into view. Dread began to wrap tendrils around me, and I reached into my bag to reassure myself that I brought everything.

I had a pad of paper, a pen, and my ID for permission to see my aunt. Only family members were allowed to visit or bring visitors. Aidan brought a tape recorder, the old fashioned kind with the wind-up tape, because cell phones weren't allowed. He said it belonged to his mother during her digs, before more advanced technology came along.

I glanced at Aidan. He returned my stare. You want to turn back, he said, not making it a question.

He must have seen it in my face.

A choir of voices cheered in my head.

Resigned, I tugged at my new button-up blue shirt and shook my head. Nope. I looked away. Noper's, nope, nope. I realized how silly I sounded popping my P's like a little kid. Straightening my shoulders, I cleared my throat and looked to him. We've got to do this. There, I thought, that sounded self-assured.

Aidan's electric blue eyes focused back on the road. His jaw clenched hard enough I saw his cheekbone and temple twitch.

I remember when those eyes used to give me the creeps. I still knew when he was close. The air hummed, like standing close to one of those massive power lines. Aidan felt something similar, though apparently not as intense as what I felt. He felt it when we stood close or touched. We'd concluded that it was because we were connected to the Demon's Grave through our families.

Aidan set his square jaw before saying, I bet they'll let me go with you if you wanted me to. He even combed and groomed his usually wild reddish brown hair for the event and had shaved his scruff down. He wore jeans that looked far too good on his butt and a button-up dark shirt for our presentation.

I don't know if they will let you come in the room with me, but I'll try, I admitted. Hell, they'd probably turn me away. With my recent news-worthy amnesia, it might make a person wonder why I'd decide to see her now, after all this time. I'd likely be checked for weapons. That's what I forgot, I thought with some levity, weapons.

The last time I faced Nell alone, I was almost thrown into a bonfire to appease a demon. After everything I'd been through, I didn't think I'd hesitate beating her head in at the first chance I got.

The silence stretched, making me tug at my new blue shirt all over again.

Shops passed in a blur until we started to reach the other end of the city. I tried to focus on them and the people milling about. I tried to imagine being them, being ignorant again. Wouldn't that be nice? The trip only lasted a half hour, but it made the time go faster.

Aidan slowed as he neared the opened gates leading to the Windmane Asylum and turned into the parking lot.

The institution was a series of five large, squared buildings. It was the largest psychiatric ward in the west. Each bricked building looked as if it'd been constructed in the 1940's and painted a hundred times over. I doubted a hurricane could tear the sturdy buildings down. A well-manicured lawn and shrubbery tried to cast away the foreboding nature, but it didn't do it well. At least not well enough for me. Neither white-clad patients nor staff could be seen. It was an eerie lack of activity for the sunny day.

Pulling into the nearly vacant Visitor's Parking, Aidan turned the bulky station wagon into an open space.

The main building loomed before us.

Aidan and I peered out the windshield at the white sealed doors separating us from insanity. Overhead, I half expected to see dark clouds rolling in, probably because my mood demanded it. However, the weather wasn't cooperating.

Aidan reached over and took my clammy hand, giving it a gentle squeeze in his warm, dry palm. He didn't pull away when that little jolt zapped between us on contact.

I squeezed his hand back, feeling the space between our hands grow hotter. I attempted a weak smile. I hate this.

He smiled back, not showing teeth, and nodded. We can do this. It was the we that helped.

Opening the passenger door, I slip my fingers from Aidan's. Slamming the door shut, I stood at attention, hand shielding my face from the sun.

Aidan shut his squeaking door and moved first. He nodded at me, and I followed like an obedient dog.

I lengthened my strides to catch up to him, my hand snatching his. Thank you, I whispered, not looking at him and ignoring the zap.

The white double doors were getting closer as my heart began to beat louder.

My hand gripped Aidan's so hard that he shook his wrist to get my attention. Be brave, Nora. This is for our friends.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to relax my grip on his hand. My other hand twisted the bottom of my shirt, wrinkling the new fabric with the sweat of my palm.

We stepped onto the sidewalk. My rubber knees threatened to knock me askew, but thankfully, I made it to the front doors.

Aidan opened the first one for me, and my foot paused. I knew that if I hesitated too long, I might not move at all.

For your friends, I thought, hearing the anger in it and letting the guilt pull me forward.

Stepping through the threshold, I was reminded of the Challenge. There, each door represented a step closer to freedom or something very, very bad.

We shuffled through automatic doors and approached the horseshoe-shaped desk that dominated the waiting room.

Three women looked up, all still busily tapping at their computers.

The one nearest us offered a polite smile. How may I help you?

I opened my mouth, but to my horror, nothing came out.

Blushing, I stepped closer to the desk and cleared my throat. Sorry, I said, embarrassed, my voice still squeaking as I fumbled for my ID. I would like to visit my aunt.

Name? The nurse, probably in her mid-forties, kept that polite smile plastered, making me fidget.

Eleanor Fuller, I said.

Eleanor Fuller? the second young woman draped in a nurse's uniform parroted. Are you family?

Aidan and I nodded together, and I felt the heat of controversy summoning itself. Here's where they'd tell me 'no' and send me on my way with a pat on the butt.

She's in the high-security building, the young nurse said to the one attending us.

Oh, the older one said as if this were significant.

I glanced at Aidan, eyebrows raised.

Please fill these out, the young nurse said, passing us two clipboards. Before we could ask, she explained. "Because you've never been here before, we require some basic information. The second page is a waiver stating that you will not sue Windmane Asylum if…well, if you should slip or hurt yourself."

Or get attacked by a patient, I thought, taking the clipboards from her.

I wiped my sweaty palm on my skirt to try and hide the anxiety. There was no use lying about who I was, so I wrote down everything.

After a brief once over and giving us back our ID's, she forced the plastic grin. You're family too? she asked Aidan.

Please, I said before he could speak, he's with me. I need some…support.

She eyed me for a long time before the older woman nudged her. The younger woman passed us two laminated badges.

When we clipped them on, we were officially Visitors.

Alright, she said, charging up the brightness with another smile. I'll call ahead, and there will be someone waiting for you. She gave us brief directions and a map.

Stepping back outside, Aidan and I headed down the sidewalk to the far end of the campus-sized lot in silence. He held my slick hand without complaint.

Told you I'd get in, he said smugly.

You're welcome, I said.

The building dominated my vision, and my rubbery knees started acting up again.

Nora, Aidan said softly, catching my attention.

My eyes unhinged from the sliding doors that were only twenty paces away.

Nora, listen. Aidan let go of my hand and grabbed my shoulders to make me face him. I'll go in alone. I can ask the questions and record them. You can stay out here. You don't have to do this.

Puffing up with a deep breath, I almost caved. I was glad I held my breath before I could blurt it out.

No, I said, exhaling. I have to go in there, Aidan. She won't talk to you. But she might remember me.

How do you know?

I don't, I admitted, feeling the doubt threatening to breach. But I know the consequences if we fail.

Our gazes leveled in several prying seconds' understanding. His pale eyes were so stern and full of concern, I had the unexpected urge to lean in and kiss him. His constant concern for me over the previous weeks had been flattering, but I had to stand on my own here. I had to stop being afraid of being alone.

They were brave words. If only I felt them too.

I felt myself leaning closer. In that instant, he appeared startled but didn't back away, his face drawing closer to my own. I felt my eyes close when the sound of repetitive pounding caused us both to pause in mid-motion.

My face an inch from his, I opened my eyes. The moment we made eye contact, it was like we'd been caught masturbating.

Jerking away from each other, we both looked up at one of the large windows of the High Security Facility. A figure, maybe a man, pounded on the window. It wasn't long before another figure showed up and led him away. By then the damage was done; the moment was over.

Sighing, I began to walk toward the front door, Aidan at my side. We weren't holding hands anymore, so I curled mine into fists and crossed my arms.

Aidan kept clearing his throat until we were close enough to alert the sliding doors.

A woman in her early thirties at a similar front desk as the previous building hung up her phone and smiled,