Blackheath by Gabriella Lepore

Author:Gabriella Lepore [Gabriella Lepore]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Publisher: Oftomes Publishing
Published: 2015-12-22T07:00:00+00:00

THAT AFTERNOON JOEL caught a ride home in Charlie’s Mustang. The car was awash with Charlie’s buoyant energy and drove how Charlie moved—erratically. Although the boys had been friends for some time, they had only started socialising outside of school in the last year or so, around the time Charlie had gotten his driver’s licence. Sometimes Joel wondered if he was drawn to Charlie’s energy or the car’s—but either way, Joel was glad of the friendship. Charlie was, just like his car, alive with cavalier energy.

The Mustang swerved sharply into the wooded hills, following the narrow path that led up to the old mansion. Joel couldn’t help but cringe as he saw Charlie’s aura change to a murky blue when the dilapidated building appeared before them.

Fear, Joel noted with a sigh.

“Whoa,” Charlie breathed. He hastily cleared his throat. “Is this your place?” He looked at Joel in the passenger seat. “I mean. . . man, it looks different in the daylight,” he finished.

“Yep,” Joel muttered, unfastening his seatbelt and climbing out of the car. He sighed again.

Charlie’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. “It’s cool, though,” he added. “It’s cool.” All six-foot-four of Charlie’s enormous build suddenly cowered in the presence of the imposing old building.

Joel decided not to invite his friend in. Despite his efforts in the kitchen, the rest of the house still wasn’t ready for visitors. So he signalled a goodbye to Charlie and made for the front porch.

The family Jeep was nowhere in sight, suggesting that Evan and Maximus were probably out on some secret Chosen One business again.

Joel opened the rickety front door and was met with an unusual sight.

Ainsley was lying on his back in the front entryway, making snow angel shapes on the beat-up hardwood floor as he expelled ghostly moans of pain. Alleged Aunt Topaz’s hunched elderly form was pacing around him, misting him with water from a spray bottle.

Joel’s shoulders sagged. “What’s wrong with you?”

Ainsley groaned. “Burning. Burning like fire.”

Joel studied him dubiously. “You’re sick?”

“I’m. . .” Ainsley’s voice quavered. “I’m ill, Joel. The darkness has me.”

Suddenly Joel thought of Isla and her mysterious condition that had Maggie so worried.

“What’s wrong with you?” he pressed, nudging Ainsley with his foot.

“I have. . . P . . . M. . . T,” Ainsley sobbed out the final T.

Joel pursed his lips. “You don’t have PMT. That’s a girl thing.”

“You don’t know,” Ainsley bawled, huge bulbous tears spilling from his angelic lavender eyes. “I have it,” he insisted again as he curled into the foetal position.

Alleged Aunt Topaz took up her spritzing with even more gusto. “There, there, child,” she croaked, looking down her hooked nose at him. “Release the fire.”

Joel turned his attention to Alleged Aunt Topaz. “Stop filling his head with this junk. He’s got enough complexes as it is.”

Ainsley rolled over to face Joel again. “Don’t trivialise my feelings,” he snivelled as he drew his knees up to his chest and locked his arms around them.

Joel ignored him. “He hasn’t got PMT,” he said to Topaz.

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