The Family Plot by Cherie Priest

Author:Cherie Priest
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781466860650
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates

9

DAHLIA DUTTON BRUSHED her teeth, watching her own reflection the whole time. She examined her face like she’d have to describe it to a police sketch artist, pore by pore, line by line. It was better to count frown lines, better to watch the toothpaste foam collect in the corners of her mouth, than to let her eyes wander to the mirror’s edges—and maybe catch a glimpse of something she didn’t want to see.

The bathroom was pretty big, so far as old bathrooms went. There was plenty of room for someone or something to stand behind her. Several someones. Several somethings.

“Gabe?” she called out.

He answered from the other side of the door. “Right here. Not touching anything. Still covered in mud, so hurry up.”

“I’m going to open the door a little bit, then start my shower, okay? I’m trusting you.”

“I won’t peek.”

“You better swear it.”

“Dahl, don’t be gross. It’d be like seeing my mom naked.”

“Thanks…?” She tried to shine the word up with a joking smile, so he didn’t hear her shaking when she said it. “Okay, here goes.”

She opened the door, far enough that she could slide out sideways without touching it, if she wanted. It gave her a little privacy, but left her an escape route. With that in mind, she stripped down to nothing and leaned over the side of the tub, turning the porcelain knobs to start the water. It came out brown again at first, then cleared up as it warmed.

Looking around the bathroom, she was halfway glad it would all get torn down in a week. It was a mess—covered in muddy fingerprints, footprints, and a floor full of wet, dirty clothes. It’d be easier to total it than scrub it down.

She looked over her shoulder, checking the mirror without meaning to. Thank God, she didn’t see anything but her own bare back in a pink tiled room, slowly filling up with steam.

Deep breath.

She was only naked. It was only a ghost. Ghosts can’t actually hurt you, can they? “Let’s say no,” she whispered to herself, and stepped over the cold, smooth lip of the tub. One foot at a time, she climbed inside until she stood mid-thigh in the stream. She reached up to adjust the shower head. She closed her eyes. Water hit her face.

And the other thing hit her, too—the Taser-sharp, heaven-bright flash of light and electricity.

Blinded, even with her eyes open now—they were open, weren’t they? And stinging—she staggered, slipped, and caught herself. She put one hand out for balance, hoping to find the wall, with its slick tiles that felt like a salamander looks. But the wall wasn’t there, not where she thought it should be. She’d turned herself around and wiped at her eyes, willing the vivid static to pass. It faded, then flared again.

“Oh God,” she gulped. Her feet made squeaky noises on the enamel as she shuffled this way and that, hunting for the wall, or the showerhead pipe, or the tub’s edge. If she could

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