Othernaturals Book Four: Preta

By Christina Harlin

They are isolated in the mountains, the hunger is growing, and they are running out of time.

Rosemary Sharpe leads her Othernaturals team to the mansion in the Rocky Mountains where her rock-star grandfather and his friends once gathered. Among the musicians and artists who still commune there are a wolfish groundskeeper, whose animal magnetism is irresistible to psychic vampire Sally Friend, and an unwelcome intruder from Rosemary's own carefully guarded past.

The Othernaturals have come to help a former freedom rocker who has fallen under a hunger hex. In the secluded mountainside mansion, however, they find not one hexed woman but an infection spreading out of control, sending the houseguests into a ravenous frenzy. The victims are becoming the "preta," warped by a vengeful entity targeting anyone who has led a life of greed. One by one, avenues of escape disappear, and the house falls further into madness.

Whether the infection's spread is natural or paranormal, someone seems determined to keep the Othernaturals trapped on the mountain until all souls have been judged - and in the world of the preta, the guilty are punished, but the innocent are eaten.

Preta is the fourth book of paranormal investigations by the gifted cast of the webshow "Othernaturals".

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christina Harlin
• Release date: May 10, 2016
• ISBN: 9781310374272

Christina Harlin

Christina Harlin is the author of the "Othernaturals" series, featuring the adventures of a ghost-hunting team, each with his or her own otherworldly talents, passions and secrets. Her stand-alone works of supernatural fiction are "Deck of Cards" and "Never Alone". With co-author Jake C. Harlin, she has published the outrageous parody of romantic thrillers, "Dark Web." Together, Christina and Jake conduct the podcast "Underground Book Club", where they present talk and advice about self-published writing and writers. Having worked for over twenty years as a legal secretary and paralegal in law firms in Kansas City, Christina's experiences there have played no small role inspiring her comic mystery series of Boss books chronicling the ongoing misadventures of Carol Frank. Christina enjoys computer games, puzzles, great television, movies, and novels. Christina lives in the Kansas City area with her family.

Book preview

Othernaturals Book Four:

Preta

Christina Harlin

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2016 Christina Harlin

Visit the author at http://www.christinaharlin.com

Cover Design: Yvonne Less @ www.art4artists.com.au

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Prologue

The Web Series Awards

Houston, Texas; February 2015

In years past, the Othernaturals’ table at the Web Series Awards was always close to front and center of the room. They were a good-looking bunch and likely to win an award. This year, they were seated beneath the shadow of the balcony, close to the back exit. Rosemary believed that the event’s host had something to do with their table placement, putting them in dark obscurity just to be spiteful.

Oliver Channing, who used to be on Othernaturals, was the host that night. What reason he had to be spiteful was beyond Rosemary. She hadn’t fired him; he’d quit. Maybe he was mad that the show had gone on without him, or that Rosemary had not yet begged him to return. Why would he want to return? He was on television now, chasing poltergeists on a popular cable show. As a web star who had gone on to TV fame, he was certainly someone for the web show crowd to fawn over. Here he was tonight, introducing presenters and making stupid jokes.

The Internet has given anyone the ability to grab fifteen minutes of fame! was what he had just said, apparently without realizing that he might be insulting everyone in the room.

Rosemary’s brooding about Oliver again, said Judge. Look at that scowl.

It’s not Oliver, said Rosemary. My feet are pinched. She’d sacrificed comfort for a pair of to-die-for stiletto heels and found the description to be apt. If she had to walk much further in these things, she might indeed die. Being annoyed by Oliver was fairly lightweight compared to aching feet.

This year the Web Series Awards, nicknamed the Websaws, were hosted at a hotel and convention center in downtown Houston. Tonight the awards were presented in the hotel’s banquet hall, with its own stage where presenters emerged from behind the red velvet curtains. Dozens of groups sat at round dinner tables across the broad floor, with another tier of guests and tables on the balcony that swept above half the room. Tablecloths of rich cobalt blue and crimson decorated the room. Each table had a centerpiece of cut glass with huge crimson roses so heavy that they drooped under their own weight.

Groups from all over the United States and from some surprising corners of the world had gathered here. Oliver was halfway right. The Internet had given anyone the ability to showcase their talents for commentary, news, entertainment, or research. Rosemary admired many of the guests, knowing them by sight. For example, the ladies at the table to the right of the Rosemary and her team, all round and middle-aged, looking matronly in mother-of-the-bride dresses, hosted a cooking webshow that traveled around the country, much as Othernaturals did. Rather than ghost-hunting, they spent time cooking in other people’s houses. With permission, I hope, Andrew had muttered.

Othernaturals’ clothing sponsor Scarlet & Black dressed the team for the night, meaning that as a whole they resembled a pack of male vampires and their prospective female victims. The men were in dark suits with small, telltale gothic edges to them, Victorian cuts and collars. The women were in floor-length gowns of gauzy drama. Sally’s was white and resembled the lacy layering of a peignoir set, Kaye’s in black velvet which showcased her fair skin and black hair. Rosemary wore a shifting gauze colored like peacock feathers. You girls will look like tarts in a Hammer film, their stylist Tabitha had said – proud of it, because Hammer Tart was a fashion goal.

Aside from the seven cast members and their secretary Tricia, an additional guest sat at their table. Andrew brought along his teenage nephew Ethan. For the first time since Ethan was a toddler, Andrew had gone home to South Dakota for Christmas. Ethan hero-worshipped his mysterious uncle at once. Having Ethan with them was rather like having a new puppy. Everyone in the group was eager to please the teenager, vying for his attention.

So far only the technical awards had been given out. The Othernaturals’ table had one Golden Computer (as ugly as the name implied) next to the centerpiece, an editing award to Greg Hatchett. They’d been nominated but hadn’t won anything in cinematography, no big deal; it was just nice to be noticed after all. They were also nominated for Best Web Reality Show –Supernatural Category, as they had been each year since they’d been online. Specific show awards were coming up soon, right after the intermission. Which starts right now! Oliver announced, and dozens of people rose to find the restrooms.

Sally rubbed her forehead. The lights are giving me a headache.

Why? asked Greg, as they all glanced upward to the crystal fixture just above their table, a smaller version of the chandeliers that hung over the open half of the room. What meager light the little chandelier put out seemed inoffensive.

They’re flipping out. You can’t see that? Sally glared at the chandelier. Never mind, it’s just one of my Sally-things. Highly sensitive to light, Sally could detect things about its qualities that others never noticed.

You’re named after a horror novel, said young Ethan suddenly, and rather out of nowhere. It took Rosemary a moment to understand he was addressing her.

"Oh, me? Yes, Rosemary’s Baby. My mother is kind of a horror junkie. My sister and brother got horror names too."

Delighted that he’d found something to discuss with Rosemary, Ethan asked, What are their names?

Tory and Eleanor. Any guesses why? She waited for Ethan to guess, but he had no idea. "My big brother Tory is actually Victor, after Victor Frankenstein. My big sister Eleanor is named after the Eleanor in The Haunting of Hill House."

Unintentionally, Rosemary glanced over and met Andrew’s eyes. He caught her. He was smart enough to guess what she was thinking, even if she never let him read her mind. She was remembering the gift she’d given him on the day they'd met, a first-edition of The Haunting of Hill House, once owned by her famous supermodel/groupie grandmother Crystal Ebbetts Watts.

On that first day, Rosemary gave the book to Andrew and expressly said, Don’t sell it too soon, implying that he should enjoy it a bit before cycling into his used-book business, but it struck her like a slap when he actually did sell it. She had secretly hoped he would keep it. She kept all the gifts her friends gave her. But of course we weren’t friends yet, she reminded herself. That was last year. There was no use in pouting about it still.

"I thought Tory might be after Jack Torrence from The Shining," said Ethan.

That’s a really good guess! said Greg Hatchett.

"I do a terrific Jack Nicholson," Judge said, sensing an opportunity to perform. But Judge was kept from launching into his imitation when Oliver Channing came at their table for the third time that night. Rosemary wondered what his excuse to bother them would be this time.

"Hey, Othernaturals. He posed in his tuxedo as if waiting for people to snap pictures. And of course, people snapped pictures. The cooking-show ladies at the next table were practically swooning over him – Oliver had smoldering dark beauty all sewn up, and was highly effective charmer until one got to know him. He smiled at his fans then continued, We’re short some presenters. Are any of you presenting awards?"

I’m presenting for Best Female Performance in a Scripted Series, Judge said. He would never miss an opportunity to be on stage. I’m heading back stage at the two-minute warning.

Rosemary, Oliver said, why don’t you come backstage too? We need another presenter for the Best Advice Column, and you look too sexy to sit at this table all night.

Rosemary shook her head. My shoes are pinching my feet. That’s what I get for sacrificing half a size because I loved the color.

Come on, don’t be a wimp, Oliver coaxed. What about you, Adam?

He was looking at Andrew. Andrew said, I’ll do it, if you’ll let my nephew present with me.

Oliver looked uncertainly at Ethan. Skinny and seventeen, Ethan was absolutely at the height of his awkward phase. Even though his clothes fit him perfectly, he still seemed to be all wrists and elbows. He looked faintly similar to Andrew, but he had all the sharp features without any unification – Andrew’s face had the fierce bird-of-prey lines, whereas Ethan was just a bunch of pointy features on a face too thin to compensate.

He’s a great public speaker, Andrew said. Ethan here went to the state championships for debate. He’d probably do better than me.

I’ll do it, sure, if you want me to, Ethan exclaimed. From what Rosemary had seen, the kid would walk straight off a rooftop if he thought it would impress his uncle.

Well good for you, kid! Oliver said, reaching over to give Ethan a clap on the shoulder. What did you debate about?

Immigration, said Ethan.

Sounds pretty dry. What side did you argue?

Both, sir. I had to be ready to argue either side. It’s a random draw.

Well good for you, Oliver said again. He had a way of smiling that made him look like he was modeling for a shaving cream ad, like he could see his handsome reflection in a mirror and was just waiting for someone to immortalize the moment. Oliver took a list out of his tuxedo’s jacket pocket, glancing over it. We’ve got three empty spots for presentation. Rosemary, take one of them, and I’ll let your psychic and his nephew have another one.

Poor Ethan looked so excited; Rosemary decided she’d just acquiesce.

How about you, Blondie? Oliver asked Sally, using the pet name he’d called her for years.

No thanks, Sally grumbled, pointing upward. I have a headache thanks to the lights spazzing out up there.

It’s nice and dark backstage, he said, with something of a leer at her. A camera phone’s flash momentarily blinded Oliver, spoiling his flirtation, and he glanced at the cooking-show ladies.

I’m sorry, said the one in silver, eyes wide with fear behind her wire-rimmed glasses. Oliver chuckled and went to her side, offering her his hand. Here, now have your friends get a picture of this. He put an arm around her waist, posed for the ladies, kissed her on the cheek and held it for another picture. By the time he was finished, they were fluttering.

Please do a psychic reading on one of us! begged the one in turquoise and rhinestones.

Oliver glanced over his shoulder to see if Rosemary and her group were watching him.

Damn. Rosemary wished she’d introduced a fascinating topic of conversation to distract them all. Instead, there they all sat stupidly waiting for Oliver to go away. Seeing that he still had the Othernaturals’ attention, Oliver said to the cooking show ladies, One of you has a loved one who has passed on recently – I’m getting a name, it starts with an M or an N.

Could it be an animal? asked Turquoise-and-rhinestones. My dog Minerva died last year.

Nelson! Black-and-silver pointed to Gold-and-blonde, Your brother Nelson died three years ago!

Do you ever feel as if Nelson is still with you? asked Oliver of Gold-and-blonde.

Gold-and-blonde shook her head. No, I haven’t had any feelings like that.

That is because he is at rest, said Oliver smoothly, but I think tonight his spirit is trying to tell you something. Have you recently had some bad luck?

Well, I’ve been having trouble with my neighbors.

Did Nelson think you were more of a happy person, or a sad person? Were you easy-going, or take things too hard sometimes?

Nelson usually thought I took things way too seriously, Gold-and-blonde muttered.

Nelson is at peace, and he wants you to be too.

I wouldn’t have imagined it. Gold-and-blonde glanced around at her friends, unconvinced, but they were simply delighted that Oliver was paying attention to them.

Well, I’ve got to get backstage. Oliver looked back at the Othernaturals’ table. So, let’s go. Stefan, you and your beautiful lady-friend—

Stefan’s smile was subtle. Can’t help you, Oliver. I’m on filming duty. He indicated the small digital camera on the table before him. Kaye, if you want to—

Oh, no, Kaye quickly replied, a look of relief easing her face. I’ll stay here.

Stefan, I'd never guessed you had it in you. Oliver sighed appreciatively at Kaye, who fixed him with an icy gaze. Oh, whatever, then Judge, come on, Rosemary, and Adam, you can come. How am I supposed to introduce you, kid? As a master debater?

Rosemary said. You can introduce Ethan as part of the show.

Oh really? replied a skeptical Oliver. How so?

He’s a consultant. Ethan and I have been Facebook friends for a while now, and he’s always giving me great pointers on public speaking.

That was only half a lie. On Facebook, Ethan talked mostly about his debate team, but Rosemary could consider that advice. Ethan flushed red and beamed delight.

You need one more presenter? asked Greg. I’ll do it. I look too fabulous tonight not to show off.

Thus Andrew and Ethan, Rosemary, Judge and Greg walked backstage, losing Oliver in the shuffle, stopping where numerous other presenters were gathering to sit the rows of chairs provided.

Here we go, said Oliver, returning from whatever quick errand he’d run. He handed each of them a card. "This is what you say, and you’ll need to line up – your number is on the card, see there? The hard names are spelled out phonetically so practice them. Rosemary, you’ll be presenting with me."

Great, she said, taking her card.

I’ll be back in a couple minutes and we can run our lines, he said, actually dropping a kiss on her cheek before he strolled away again, a sultry phantasm of cologne lingering in the air behind him.

I wonder why there weren’t enough presenters, Judge mused. ‘Usually people fight to present. It’s a little free publicity for their shows."

There were plenty of presenters, Andrew said. Oliver dismissed a bunch of them, so he could offer a spot to the boss here.

Everyone looked at Rosemary as if it were her fault. She looked at Andrew for help. You can’t be serious.

It’s true, Andrew replied with a shrug. While Oliver was doing his in-depth reading of our table-neighbor—

Greg burst into laughter which he smothered with the back of his hand, and Judge did a spot-on Oliver Channing imitation, but softly. I can sense that someone here thinks I’m a first-class wiener.

Ethan said, A vision! I’m seeing a person. He or she has two legs – does anyone know a two-legged man or woman?

Ethan had been hesitant to say much to the group so far, and this was his first joke, so Rosemary played along. "Gods, you’re right! I do know someone like that – she has two legs, and she is either a man or a woman! It’s like you’ve known me all my life!"

Andrew tried to settle them with raised hands, but things had gotten a little out of control. The stage manager is going to kick our asses, he warned them. Rosemary followed his gaze to a very large woman in a headset. She was glaring at them with the eyes of a fiend. The two-minute warning had already gone off and they could hear the audience settling beyond the stage.

As I was saying, Andrew continued in a hushed tone, The presenters were ready to go but Oliver told three of them they weren’t needed, and then he came to our table to recruit.

Ethan expelled a long breath. "You read his mind, didn’t you? That is so awesome."

Not intentionally, Andrew said. He was spilling those thoughts out for anyone to see. He was pretty proud of his idea. He’s been trying all night to get the boss’s attention.

That doesn’t surprise me at all, said Greg. Oliver wants Rosemary on his show.

That’s not all he wants her on, Judge added.

Andrew said to Rosemary, He probably wants you to provoke the homeowners so his poltergeist readings are more exciting.

That’s not all he wants her to provoke, said Judge.

Justin Duncan, Rosemary warned, if you don’t stop it, I’m going to hurt you. Don’t you sneer – I’ll make you wear these shoes for an hour.

Andrew tried to be fair. "Oliver might not be a complete fake. There was a ghost hanging around behind the cooking-show ladies. Everyone waited for the punchline. Andrew shook his head. No, I’m serious. It wasn’t anyone named Nelson, but there was a man near the back tables who was not among the living."

Greg said, This hotel is about forty years old. Wouldn’t be too weird to see a spirit hanging around. Some poor loop ghost who lost his room key. When we get back to the table, point me in the right direction, and I’ll see if I can pick him up too.

A harsh shushing sound came from the stage manager, and nearby a techie stationed with a laptop got the music started with a few clicks of his mouse. Oliver Channing took the stage and began the next segment of presentations.

Rosemary saw there were benefits to being backstage. At least time seemed to pass more quickly. Greg was finished with his presentation almost at once. He returned to them, a little flushed from being onstage, but smiling. He’d given a Websaw to an eight-year-old girl in a purple party dress who hosted her own movie reviews. No one was looking at me. I may look like a Greek god here, but kids always steal the show.

Greg’s attention wandered, as he stared beyond his friends into a shadowed corner of the backstage area. The only light was the EXIT sign, yet Greg plainly saw something else.

Drew, look. Is that the ghost you were talking about?

Everyone turned to look, even though only Greg and Andrew could expect to see anything. Greg drew in a sharp breath of surprise. "Hey! There’s three of them – looks like a middle-aged man, a grandmother-type lady, and there’s a younger guy in a military uniform."

Perplexed but in agreement, Andrew nodded slowly.

Rosemary peered too, though seeing ghosts was not in her skill set. We have to get closer, she said. She checked her presentation number. Hang on, I’ll go over with you. You’re not pulling my leg, are you Greg?

Greg pulls no leg, Greg assured her. You coming, Drew? Judge? Ethan my man, you want to be in on a ghost hunt? Ethan’s face split into a wide grin as he nodded.

They went toward the exit, ignoring the stage manager’s gestures at them. Greg stopped within a few feet of the exit and said, ‘Okay, there, there, and there. Just standing – they all seem to be looking at the same thing, but I don’t think they see us."

Andrew considered the general area. He went inside himself, the power he called his sneak taking over. He looked like a man who was trying to remember a tune, with his head cocked to one side. Ethan watched this in rapt fascination. Andrew finally said, This is strange. I agree, there are three ghosts here, but none of them are the one I saw by the tables.

Four ghosts in one place? asked Judge. Maybe something awful happened here, and a lot of people died.

The stage manager had now come right up to them and stood in a state of tension and exasperation. She was younger than Rosemary had thought, and had big, beautiful eyes with glamorous sweeping lashes. Those big beautiful eyes were currently wide with murderous intent. Her nametag said Bobbi. She seethed at them. Excuse me but what are you doing? We have a show going on, and I think you’re presenting in about two minutes. She poked fingers at Andrew and Ethan. "Have you practiced your lines? It’s hazardous back here, and you need to be up there, where I can cue you. Now."

Chastened and grumbling, they turned to follow her. Bobbi was correct about the area being hazardous. In the dark, Rosemary could not see the floor. Since her shoes pinched her toes, she was not walking with her usual strides but with shorter, more awkward steps. Thanks to this, she caught her heel on an electrical cord, tried to extricate herself, and twisted her ankle hard. She would have fallen but Judge was right beside her and put a steadying hand out. Rosemary yelped in surprise at the hot, sharp pain in her ankle.

"Shhhh!" hissed the stage manager.

What happened? Greg asked, taking Rosemary’s other arm.

Rosemary blinked back tears and complained vehemently, if quietly, Damn twisted ankle! These evil shoes!

Can you walk?

Rosemary tried not to whimper with pain. Ow, no, I don’t know. You two go on ahead, she said to Andrew and Ethan. She didn’t need to act like a baby in front of them. Bobbi hustled Andrew and his nephew back to curtain-side. They went as commanded, both glancing back at Rosemary with genial concern.

Why don’t I get Kaye? Judge asked. She’ll fix you right up.

Ah, don’t bother with it now. You don’t want to miss your cue.

Greg let Rosemary lean on him while she got her breath back and the pain under control. I really wanted to see Ethan and Andrew present, she said anxiously, when it seemed they were seconds away from going onstage. She tried to put weight on her ankle. As soon as she took a full step, the pain flared and her ankle almost gave out under her. She sucked in air through her teeth, knuckles against her mouth to keep from yelling.

Effortlessly Greg hoisted Rosemary into his arms. He bench-pressed far more than she weighed, which had given him a build rather like the Greek god he’d joked about. He carried her close to the stage curtains so she could watch as her psychic and his nephew walked before the audience, introduced as "Adam Fletcher and Ethan Crowley of the paranormal webshow Othernaturals!" Oliver was determined to call Andrew the wrong name all night long. This was a stupid trick Oliver used to make people feel like they weren’t important to him.

Andrew himself would never have said anything. He had little care for what others thought, especially people like Oliver. He just held the notecard before them at the podium. Before he could speak, though, Ethan said to the audience, "My uncle’s name is Andrew Fletcher. I’m really glad he invited me to be here. It’s amazing hanging around with a paranormal webshow. Did you know that we’ve found four ghosts in this theater already?"

The audience laughed, figuring this was part of an act. Ethan was pleased. The boy under regular circumstances was easily flummoxed, not positive how to behave like an adult but wanting to fake the highlights. Before an audience, he was self-assured and controlled. His diction was excellent. He even looked taller and more relaxed on stage. Rosemary saw Andrew’s face, the bit of knowing pride lurking there, and her heart thumped hard a couple times.

Rosemary was not accustomed to symptoms of infatuation. Strange to say, but it had never happened to her before, and made her feel ridiculous. She’d turned 27 in January. Age-wise, she felt no more entitled to infatuation than she was to chicken pox. It was a childhood thing, wasn’t it, and dangerous for adults?

Oh, not again—Oliver was at Greg’s side, looking at Rosemary with alarm. What the hell? he whispered.

Rosemary came out of her reverie. I twisted my ankle on a cable back there. You’ll have to present alone.

You did not twist your ankle, Oliver pouted. You’re just being difficult. As usual.

Rosemary leaned forward in Greg’s arms and flipped her gauzy skirt away from her ankles, showing Oliver that one was visibly swelling larger than the other. See?

Well, shit, said Oliver. How am I supposed to present alone? There’s dialog on the card.

I’ll present with you, Greg offered, with a too-casual hopefulness that surprised Rosemary and broke her heart a little. Was Greg still nursing his own infatuation? Oliver was so unworthy of him.

It’s dialog for an opposite sex couple, Oliver snapped, oblivious to any subtext.

Here came the stage manager Bobbi, steam boiling from her ears. "Shut up, all of you! she whisper-screamed at them. You, put her down. You’re blocking traffic. Is that – well, that ankle looks bad. Put her in a chair over there. Channing, keep your mouth shut, you know better."

Andrew and Ethan returned backstage, accepted some high-fives from Greg and Judge, then everyone gathered around Rosemary in the chair where Greg settled her. Rosemary argued, Never mind my silly ankle. Go check out the ghosts!

I’m next to present, Judge told them. Join you in a minute.

Andrew and