Onyx: Brimstone Heat, #3

1

Willow Ayres glanced at the map displayed on the screen in the center console of her car. She didn’t need to see the directions or the map. She had that information memorized. It was the estimated time left in her trip she wanted to know.

Willow smiled.

Five more minutes and she would arrive at the house she bought last month. Her heart skipped a beat or two, and then it beat faster. She wasn’t sure if it was excitement, fear, or a mixture of both causing her heart to race, but she leaned toward the mixture of both fear and excitement. Maybe with a dash of anxiety thrown in for good measure.

Two months ago, she decided to sell her house and move away from Silvertown, Texas, about ten miles from the Red River and Oklahoma. She wasn’t sure what town to move to or if she wanted to move out of Texas. Willow realized she couldn’t stay in Silvertown. Steven, her dead husband, told her to look at the houses for sale in Briary Creek in Central Texas. When she asked him why Briary Creek, he said it was where her destiny was waiting for her, and the sooner she arrived in Briary Creek and accepted her destiny, the sooner she would move forward with her life.

She laughed at him and told him she was too old to be starting over.

Before Steve faded away, he shook his head. You are never too old to step onto the road the Fates put in front of you, and follow it until you find your new life at the end. He faded away before she could argue with him about her age and how the Fates were crazy if they wanted her to begin a new life.

Willow sighed. I tried living my life once, and look where that got me. She knew Steven was listening to her, but she didn’t expect him to answer. She closed the computer and climbed into bed.

The next day, the computer taunted her until she gave in and turned it on. A simple search led her to Wolfe Real Estate, and the third house on their listing caught her eye. It was a Queen Anne style Victorian house. One of the previous owners painted the entire house white and some of the trim black. It needed someone to love and take care of it. She had also seen a picture of a brick Queen Anne house. She asked her realtor to check if the owner was interested in selling it, but the reply was a quick no.

Willow called her realtor back, put her house on the market, and had her realtor submit a bid on the Queen Anne house. Carla, her realtor, asked if she wanted to tour the house and grounds, but Willow told her she didn’t need to walk around the house or the grounds. She had already made her decision. She wanted the house.

Everything moved fast. Her house sold, the bid on the Queen Anne house was accepted, and now she was in Briary Creek to see the house she bought and move into it at the same time.

Impulsive. Crazy. She had been called both and more. She didn’t care.

Willow turned off the main road onto a side street. A bakery. Nice! She almost stopped, but decided against it. She wanted to explore her new home first. Tomorrow, she would stop by the bakery. If it had wonderful coffee and pastries, it would become one of her favorite go to destinations.

She made a mental note to add it to her list of things she needed to do this week. So far, the list was short, but she realized it would grow after she toured her new home. The old Victorian house was structurally sound, she had a signed document from a Marcos Wolfe, but Willow was realistic. There would be things that needed to be repaired or replaced.

But even with knowing this, she was excited about seeing the house for the first time.

At the next stop sign, Willow turned left and then three blocks later, she turned right and followed the road until she was almost out of town. The closer she got to her new home, the further apart the houses were.

Willow turned into a long, winding driveway. As she drove around a curve, she got her first look at her new home. She slowed to a stop and put the vehicle into park. She stared at the huge three-story house. Some people would shudder when they looked at the huge old house, and complain about problems they hadn’t even discovered yet. The white paint was peeling in places. It had seen better days, but even with the peeling white paint and black trim making the house appear cold and uninviting, Willow saw potential.

She smiled.

It was perfect.

Fresh paint, maybe some jewel tones, furniture for the huge wrap-around porch, and a porch swing would have made a tremendous difference.

Good things for my list. Willow put the car back into drive and followed the driveway up to the house and along the side of the house. She parked the car in front of the garage, a previous owner during the last couple of decades.

Keys in hand, Willow got out of the vehicle and stretched for a few minutes. She grabbed the large tan envelope and her handbag from the passenger seat, climbed the stairs ,and crossed the porch to the front door. She took a deep breath and let it out as she slipped the key into the lock. With a twist of her wrist, the lock clicked, and the mechanism disengaged.

Willow pushed the door. It slowly opened, and she stepped into the entry. The air was stale. She put her handbag and the envelope on the floor and pushed aside the curtains covering the large window next to the door. Willow flipped the lock to open and pushed up the window. It squeaked in protest, put it slid halfway up.

She walked into into the formal living room and over to the first of the two oversized windows. Minutes later, the curtains were pulled aside, and the windows were open. A cool breeze was entered the house and chased some of the stale air out. Willow looked around the room. Instead of turning it back into a formal living room, she decided the room would make a perfect office. The room looked out onto the front porch. Willow also saw the front and driveway. Best of all, this was her space. The entire house was her space. She would decorate it anyway she wanted without feeling guilty for even wanting to change something.

You shouldn’t have felt guilty about changing stuff in the other house. Steve’s ghost looked around the room before it focused on her. This will make you a beautiful office.

Willow stared at the ghost. I wondered if you were stuck in the other house, or if you could follow me.

I will stay with you until you no longer need me. Her husband’s ghost gave her a weak smile. Are the utilities on?

Will found a light switch next to the door and flipped it up. The chandelier in the middle of the room lit up. The lights are on. I’ll check the water and gas when we find the kitchen.

Steve’s ghost started to answer when something heavy bounced down the stairs in the entry. He shrugged. I guess you have gh—

Don’t you say it! Don’t you dare say it! You’ll jinx me. So don’t even think it. Willow shook her finger at the ghost.

Fine. He held up his hands in defeat. But I’m not the only one here.

Willow closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She opened her eyes and glared at the ghost. I told you not to tell me. She shook her head. You never listened to me when you were alive. Why would I think it was going to be any different now you're dead, she muttered as she walked out of the room.

Steve followed her. You realize I can hear you.

Willow stopped and whirled around. Yes, I know—oh gross! She shuddered and wiped her arms and body.

There’s nothing on you. Steve stood behind Willow.

Cold spider webs don’t feel like nothing! She leaned forward and ran her hands through her short, gray-streaked honey brown hair. Don’t walk through me.

I didn’t walk through you. He raised his eyebrows. You walked through me.

You’re digging your grave. Willow glared at him again. I stopped and turned around. You kept walking and walked right through me. Gross!

What are you going to do about the other ghost?

Nothing. Movers will be here in about an hour. I still need to look around the house and check the water and gas to make sure they are on and working. A hot shower tonight will be a good thing. Willow turned and stomped toward the back of the house, where she thought the kitchen was based on what she remembered from the pictures.

But you need to deal with the other ghost.

Don’t care. Willow kept walking.

Are you going to deal with the other ghost? asked her dead husband’s ghost.

Later.

Later might not be a good idea.

A lot of things aren’t good ideas. I’ve got more pressing issues I need to take care of first. Once I’m done, I’ll deal with the spirit. Not until then. So drop it. Willow walked into the kitchen.

Steve’s ghost followed her. I may be dead, but I still love you. I want you safe, and you’ll only be safe if you follow your destiny.

Willow’s shoulders sagged. I love you, but it’s weird having you tell me to follow my destiny, especially when it involves another man.

Steve started to put his hand on her shoulder, but stopped. Everything is as it’s supposed to be.

Even your brother? She shuddered at the thought of her brother-in-law. Her stomach turned over. Willow hoped the queasiness wouldn’t get worse.

My brother should have been out of your life a long time ago. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop him, but I will find a way.

Willow turned around. I know. The good thing is I didn’t leave a forwarding address, and only Carla knows I’m here, but then she sold the house and helped me buy this one. She walked over to the sink and turned on the cold water. Water and electricity. Two out of three so far. I’m not sure about the stove. She turned on one burner. The stove made a clicking noise, but there wasn’t any gas to ignite.

The gas may have be turned off at the wall. Steve walked through the stove and looked behind it. The valve is turned off, but you should replace the stove. You will be happier with a newer model. Do you know if the water heater is gas or electric?

Would you not stand in the middle of the stove? It’s creepy.

Steve glided out of the oven until he was standing in front of it. Better?

Yes, and the water heater is gas. Carla had the realtor here replace it and service the air conditioner and heating unit. Willow’s eyes widened. Hot water. If I have hot water, then the gas is on. She turned on the other faucet at the sink. She didn’t have to wait long for the water to run hot. Yes! A hot shower tonight!

Willow pulled her phone out of her back pocket and opened up her notes. I need to add a gas stove and a refrigerator to my list. Carla said that one was clean and working, but it’s old. Her fingers flew across the digital keyboard. Maybe next year I can hire a construction company to renovate the kitchen and whatever else I want done. She added a couple of things for her new office to the list. Luckily, her desk and one bookcase had survived the break in.

She saved the notes and closed the app. The movers should be here in fifteen minutes. I want to open more windows to air out the house, especially the rooms I’m going to use. Willow looked at Steve, but he wasn’t there. She wrinkled her nose. I’ve got this. She slipped the phone into her pocket and left the kitchen to find the parlor.

On her way to the kitchen earlier, Willow only glanced at the dining room. Now she stood in the center of the room and turned in a circle. The room was a good size for a dining room, but it had two flaws. First, Willow had to walk through it to go to the kitchen. And second, the room was closed off from the rest of the house. it had a set of French doors that opened to the rest of the house, but on the other side, one pocket door led to the kitchen, making the kitchen shut off from the rest of the house.

She wondered if the wall between the kitchen was load bearing or not. If it was, could a larger open doorway be created? If it wasn’t load bearing, then she wanted the wall gone, and the kitchen updated to create a more modern open concept.

Willow loved the old house and especially this Victorian, but she also loved the modern conveniences found in new homes.

She pulled out her phone and jotted down her ideas and questions for taking out the wall between the kitchen and the dining room.

Willow walked across the small hall into the family room. The room was dark until she opened the heavy curtains and windows and revealed a large room with an enormous fireplace. On the interior wall was a large painting of a forest the previous owner must have left.

Willow took a step toward it.

The painting began shaking.

Willow frowned.

The painting leaped off the wall and flew across the room. It hit the far wall, and the frame shattered.

As Willow stared at the broken painting, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She glimpsed movement out of her right eye. She turned in that direction.

Willow kept a blank expression on her face. It was a tactic she mastered several years ago to keep her sanity. When ghosts realized she saw them, they reacted. Some wanted to talk. Some were mean or angry, and she often became the object of their anger. The reactions varied, and some fed off of her reactions to them. You need to behave yourself. Destroying that painting was childish. Whether or not you like, I am the new owner of this house, she said without looking at it.

The ghost stared at Willow. You can see me? It sounded surprised.

Duh. It might be why I’m talking to you.

How is that possible? asked the ghost.

It just is, said Willow.

Humans can’t see us. The ghost paced back and forth. It stopped after a couple of rounds and looked at Willow again. You aren’t supposed to see me.

Willow shrugged as she looked at the ghost. Some of us humans can see ghosts. She studied the entity. It was male, but it wasn’t like her husband’s ghost. This ghost looked like a dark shadow with the skin of a ghost wrapped around it, almost as if two ghosts were occupying the same space. She wasn’t sure what she was looking at, and she didn’t have a guidebook or anyone she could phone for advice.

The ghost puffed out its chest as it tried making itself appear larger. It doesn’t matter if you can see me or not. This is my house. I was here first, therefore you must leave. So go. Shoo! It made a shooing motion with its hands.

You’re funny. Willow laughed.

Don’t laugh at me. Just leave. I don’t want you here.

Too bad. You don’t own the house. I do.

Leave my house! screamed the ghost.

Willow raised an eyebrow. Sorry, but I’m not leaving. If you settle down and cause no more problems, then you can stay. But if you don’t behave yourself, I will force you to leave this house, and you won’t be able to return.

You can’t make me do anything. The ghost had the nerve to sneer at her.

Do you want to test your theory? asked Willow. She sounded more confident than she felt. Since the beginning of her curse, she had banished a couple of ghosts. How she did it was still a mystery to her. Plus, she had no clue where the ghosts went when they disappeared. They were gone. But she would not tell this ghost any of that.

That’s not fair. I was here first.

Willow rolled her eyes. You’re going to use the not fair card? So not cool!

But—

No. Willow cut off the ghost. My being the owner of the house tops all claims you may have had on this house when you were alive or now that you're dead. You can live here in peace or you can go. It’s that simple. You decide.

You are a pain in the ass. The ghost vanished.

And leave the movers alone! yelled Willow.

Fine, said a disembodied voice.

Willow rolled her eyes. One small victory, she thought as she picked up the canvas and the pieces of the broken frame. A quick glance at the canvas didn’t reveal any serious damaged to it.

She carried the canvas and frame pieces to the kitchen and set them on a far counter. Once she had more free time, she would examine the canvas and find somewhere to have it reframed. If it was possible.

Willow’s phone dinged twice. She pulled it out of her pocket and looked at her text messages. The movers were about five minutes away. One more thing to check off her list.

Twenty minutes after the movers left, Willow carried in the last box from her car. Hungry but too tired to go pick up something from a restaurant, she locked the house. In the back living room, she grabbed a pillow and blanket out of one of the many boxes she had carried in and laid down on the love set. Willow wrapped the flannel blanket around her and closed her eyes. in a few minutes she drifted to sleep.

Willow groaned and rolled onto her side. The blanket twisted tighter around her waist and legs. No, she cried. Tears ran down her cheeks.

Willow, wake up. Steve stood in front of the love seat. He reached out to touch her, but stopped. Wake up.

No! screamed Willow. She sat up with her arms out-stretched in front of her. No. Please don’t die and leave me alone. She sniffled as she looked around. Tears ran down her cheeks and she buried her face in her hands. Why? Why does he always die?

Willow, be careful when you stand. The blanket is twisted around your legs, said Steve.

Willow wiped her eyes with the palms of her hands. Stupid dream, she muttered. She freed herself from the blanket and tossed it to the end of the couch. As many times as I’ve had that dream, you would think I would be used to it.

You will never get used to the dream. It’s a premonition. The male is your destiny. Find him and prevent him from dying. Steve floated to the other side of the room.

She shook her head. How can a male I’ve never met be my destiny? And how can you stand there and tell me that? Don’t you even care that you’re pushing me to another male?

I care about you being happy, having a family, and more children. Yes, children, because you will be an exceptional mother. I love you, but our time has passed. Steve moved closer to Willow.

I love you.

He gave her a sad smile. I know, but I am your past and the male is your future. Your destiny. The dream hurts you because you’re connected to the male. You already have feelings for him, even if you’re not ready to admit it.

But—

He shook