The Guest House Hauntings Boxset by Hazel Holmes (novel books to read txt) 📕

Iris said. “When the witching hour approaches, the witch will sacrifice the last Bell to open the portal. But if another offers their blood, then portal will be broken, and the orb destroyed.”

Sarah snorted. “Perfect.”

“You can make it, Sarah.” Iris floated closer, and Sarah noticed a distinct change in the old woman’s appearance. She was still weathered and slightly wrinkly, but she no longer possessed that stern consternation that Sarah was greeted with every morning when she worked at the house. She looked more graceful and relaxed. Sarah felt like she was finally meeting the real Iris Bell.

Sarah reached into her pockets and fished out the cross and holy water. “Think these will help me out?”

Iris smiled, nodding as she examined the holy relics. “Yes, but you must be quick. The witch and her power will only grow stronger the closer time draws toward the devil’s hour.” She floated closer. “Go through the back entrance. She has Kegan watching the east wing. And remember that the orb and the blood sacrifice must be offered on the altar.”

“What is the altar?” Sarah asked as Iris started to fade.

“The bed,” Iris answered. “Allister’s bed.”

Sarah wanted to ask whose blood, but she was beginning to understand whose it would be, and the thought made her tremble and her mouth went dry. She stepped closer to Iris, wanting to reach out and touch her, desperately wanting a hand to hold in her hour of need. “What happens if I fail?”

“You are strong, Sarah,” Iris said, her voice fading along with her physical body. “It was why I wanted you in my house in the first place. You have the ability to change the future.” She smiled. “It’s in your blood.”

With Iris vanished into thin air, Sarah took a deep breath and then exhaled, her breath jettisoned from her lips in a thick stream.

She had come so far since leaving New York, both physically and emotionally. She wasn’t the same person anymore, and all of the things that she had been running from were over.

Sarah hurried through the trees, keeping to the forest as she circled around to the back of the mansion and toward the rear-kitchen entrance that Iris had suggested she try.

Those skeptical bones that Sarah had relied on for so much of her life to survive rattled a little bit from the fact that Sarah realized the old woman might be leading her into a trap, but the fears quickly disappeared when Sarah opened the back door and found it clear of any foes.

Sarah worked her way through the darkened kitchen and into the hallway. She craned her neck around the door frame before she stepped from the kitchen, and once she determined that it was clear, she made her way to the staircase.

The mansion was dead quiet, even more so than the nights when she had worked here. There was no wind howling across the windows, no groans or creaks from the house settling, and no ghostly cries from the top floor.

It was as if the house itself had died, shedding its leaves and growth for the approaching winter, and had become hollow and barren.

The house was quiet. Even when she ascended the steps, the normally fussy stairs remained silent. The air was different too. While Sarah could breathe, it was hollow, and she had to inhale twice as much to catch the same amount of air as before. And the higher she ascended the staircase, the hotter it became. It was a stark contrast from her previous visits to the fifth floor.

It was always colder up here, like climbing a mountain, where the temperature plummeted. But the opposite was in effect now, and sweat poured off of her in buckets the higher she climbed.

Remembering that Kegan was still somewhere in the house, Sarah looked down and kept her head on a swivel as she scanned the staircase. But so far as she could tell in the darkness, she was alone, and she continued her trek up to the top, hoping it would stay that way.

While she had never liked Kegan, she wasn’t sure if she could bring herself to kill someone again unless it was the witch. She still hadn’t shaken the psychological side effects from killing Brent, and he had been someone who she hated.

Sarah took the final step up the staircase and stood on the fifth-floor platform. The door in front of her was closed, and Sarah glanced down at the orb which was still in the pillowcase. Her heart rate quickened, and her breathing grew shallow and fast.

She tightened her grip on the pillowcase and did the same to the tube of holy water clutched in her pocket. She had to let go of one of them to open the door, so she relinquished the holy water. She placed her hand on the door knob, and it vibrated.

Sarah held on and turned the knob. It gave way slowly, and the knob grew hotter the closer she moved it to open. The vibrations grew so strong that it shook her whole body, and she tightened her grip down like a clamp, her muscles straining as she struggled to open the door the rest of the way.

It wasn’t until the subtle click of the lock that the vibrations ended, and the tension in Sarah’s arm vanished as she pushed the door inward.

Sound returned as the hinges groaned and the door opened. Unlike the rest of the house she had passed, the fifth floor had rows of candles that lined the walls. Nearly all of the candles had been burned down to the nubs, their wax dripping from the sides in long strands as the flames flickered and waved as she passed.

She pocketed her hand again, grabbing the tube of holy water as she eyed the door at the end of the hall. While her nerves were rattled, she maintained a steady pace. She kept expecting the witch or Kegan to jump out of one of the rooms along the