(Skeleton Key) Princess of the Damned Read Online Free Page B

week's worth of cardio because you saw a spider."
    His mom wasn't convinced. "Are you sure you're feeling all right?" She squinted at him, and despite the fact that he towered over her by almost a foot, he felt like a little kid, lying about a broken window.
    He nodded mutely.
    "Let's just get you into bed, then." She led him down the hall by the elbow, and tucked him under his covers like she hadn't done in about ten years. Kissing him on the forehead, she backed away, still watching him with worried eyes. "Should I leave the hall light on?"
    He felt like the world's biggest coward when he nodded. "Sure."
    She turned reluctantly and ducked out, forehead creased. He heard her, in the hall, talking to his dad. "Something's wrong. He hasn't kept the light on since that little imaginary friend he used to have."
    "Maybe he caught a scary movie with his friends. He'll be fine."
    Yeah. That had to be it. Something scary he'd watched was now attacking his subconscious. He was not losing his mind and/or hearing ghosts cry for help.
    " Please."
    He swore, jerking upright, covers tumbling to the floor. "That's it. Who are you?" He kept his voice low, but tried to put all the force of a bellow into it. "Stop freaking me the hell out."
    The mirror sparked.
    Panic gripped him. He leaped out of bed, tripped over the blankets, nearly broke his neck, and ran to the mirror. "Eiress?" he half-shrieked.
    Like a little girl.
    She wasn't there. Kaida, who was waiting at the door, lifted his silvery head and hissed.
    "I can help you help her."
    The voice came from behind him, even as the mirror swirled and sparked again.
    He spun. "Who are you?"
    Finally, finally , she shimmered to life in front of him.
    Or…non-life, as it were.
    A woman, maybe his mom's age, wafted two feet above the ground between him and the safety of the doorway. His mouth opened—to cry out or shriek again—he wasn't sure. But his voice failed him completely.
    "Help her. Please."
    She raised a hand and pointed to the mirror. It seemed to take an inhuman amount of energy, and the air around them shook.
    "Eiress?" he asked, moving closer to the ghost, wondering where that little bit of courage came from. Eiress. Even the mere thought of her drove him to insanity. "You want me to help Eiress?"
    She nodded, a silvery tear snaking its way down her cheek.
    "I will. Anything. Just tell me how." He would have grabbed her hand to hold her to him if it were possible. His fear was gone—anything that could help him help Eiress was not something to be feared.
    He hoped.
    "I am…her mother…"
    Landon swore again. Of course. It all made sense now.
    She reached past him, touched the mirror again, and Landon turned to see it swirl away from Eiress's empty chambers to an altogether different scene. A woman—the ghost in front of him—but still alive, knelt over the lifeless body of a young girl, maybe twelve years old. Her neck was torn, the ground around her soaked in blood. The woman sobbed as paramedics came, as cops came, as strangers with cameras came. A baby boy screamed on the floor next to her. They asked her questions. They asked her what had happened, and she couldn't answer them. They asked her where her other little girl was. Her sweet little girl.
    Eiress.
    Where had Eiress gone?
    The mirror swirled, time seemed to pass, and the woman sank into despair as she searched for her lost little girl. The funeral, the questions, the constant, never ending search. Someone came and took the baby away.
    And then the swirling stopped. In the flashback, the woman stared at the mirror, sobbing, in the darkness.
    Eiress appeared in front of her.
    Landon recognized her. This was when he'd started seeing her, or soon after.
    "Mama, please, I can't stay long." Eiress looked over her shoulder. "Please, stop looking. Please. Where I am—you can't—you can't save me. Please move on, Mama. I love you." Eiress put her hand to the mirror.
    The woman cried harder, raised her hand, reaching for