“Where are the guys?” She glanced around, realizing most of the equipment was gone.
“Change of plans. They dropped off the findings from last night while I was making breakfast but didn’t stay. I wouldn’t let them, not with the new evil here. I can’t have their deaths on my head.” He leaned back, liking the fact they could talk easily again. “The evidence is interesting, but nothing different than what we both saw. I’m going to go over the last set, but I don’t expect to find anything.”
“I’m glad you sent them home, though it’ll seem weird not tripping over them every time I turn around.” She laughed, the sound tugging at the diminishing knot in his stomach.
“We’ll be okay. I researched all morning while they ran the recordings. I think a lot of my job will be helping you adjust and keeping you safe.” He hoped he kept the wariness off his face.
She rested her head against the back of the couch and sighed. Her eyes were closed, her T-shirt tight against her chest. He swallowed. Hard. Forcing his eyes away, he turned his attention to the computer. Six email messages had accumulated in his inbox since going upstairs to give Jana’s journal to Alaina. None of his colleagues had any more information than he already knew. He moved the mouse a little harder than necessary, causing Alaina to shoot him a questioning brow. He shook his head.
“Did you find anything useful in Jana’s journal?” He hated to ask. He should have probably read it before handing it over, in case Jana complained about him leaving the toilet seat up or his dirty socks on the living room floor.
She shook her head, her expression guarded. Uh-oh. What had she found? “I didn’t really get too far. Except she was kind of bitter when her turn to guide arrived.”
He nodded, though he didn’t quite believe her. He’d felt unhappiness and weakness in her, but not bitterness. Maybe he should snag the book back and read it. When she turned her head to avoid him, he decided he’d better.
“Her mother trained her. I’m not sure Jana was too interested in the history side of things. I tried to fill in the blanks for her, thinking it would help with her strength, but she said her mom taught her everything and didn’t want to hear anything else .” He shook his head.
If Jana’s journal could prevent Alaina from making some of the same mistakes then whatever she found out was worth it to him. Maybe he could save Alaina like he couldn’t save his wife and child. They were basically at a dead end. Sitting ducks until they either figured out what was trying so hard to stop Alaina from doing her job, or until it killed them. Since he couldn’t let that happen, he logged off the computer and stood.
“Let’s get out of here.” He reached for her hand as she gave him the same cute, confused expression she often used.
“Where are we going? They’ll only follow us.” She took his hand anyway.
“We’re going to get some holy water, and then do some research at the library. Not that it’ll do us much good. A change of scenery would be nice.” He had to get out of here and away from the lure of her bedroom before he lost all perspective.
“Can we stop by my shop? I need to check on things,” she said as she grabbed her purse out of the desk drawer.
“Not a problem.” He opened the front door, placing the key in her hand.
“Patrick, Holy water? How is that going to help us except when we get thirsty?”
He couldn’t help but smile. “I have no idea.”
~ ~ ~
The stop at Lavender’s was necessary, though she didn’t see the sense in traipsing all over town when they had work in the house to do. There were still far too many knickknacks cluttering most of the available surfaces. If she knocked over one more ceramic critter, she might go ballistic and break them all. And she didn’t think Gram would appreciate the destruction of her precious memories. Each one was special to Gram. Most were gifts, others mementos of special trips. Heck, Alaina had given her several per year for special occasions and sometimes for no reason at all.
The realization that Gram lived what Alaina would call a normal life eased her mind some. Alaina had never guessed her grandmother was ferrying lost souls to their final resting place. There were so many times she’d decide, without notice, to pack them up and drive all night to the beach or some other fun destination.
Alaina didn’t know how she’d managed, but she was interested in finding out. If Gram could have a life without viewing her guide duties as a burden, then so could she. That is, if she could move past the confusion and fatigue following her around all of the time lately.
She’d hated lying to Patrick about Jana’s journal. Except it was clear now he hadn’t read it before giving it to her. There was no way she would let him know how miserable his wife was. As badly as he felt about not being able to save her life, what would it do to him to find out his best effort hadn’t even been enough to keep her happy? So they’d finish this trip and get the holy water she had no idea how they’d use, and then spend wasted hours searching through mundane material at the library. Whatever. If it relaxed Patrick, she’d happily go along.
Patrick stopped at one of her favorite restaurants after they left Lavender’s. Everyone had been happy to see her and business was booming. Patrick had gotten ogled by nearly all of her employees, including Philip. He hadn’t seemed to notice, and she was more than a little worried about the good-natured teasing she would receive the next time she went to work.
Alaina had to admit, she liked Patrick’s idea of taking a break more and more, except for the way she was able to pick up the emotions of the people around her. It was overwhelming. She focused on the menu and Patrick’s presence, letting him comfort her even if he didn’t know he was doing it. If she had to eat one more casserole or warmed-up soup, she was going to vomit. Unfortunately, the freezer was stocked with the food that still occasionally showed up thanks to Gram’s well-meaning friends.
Patrick’s polite and intense attention during their meal almost made her believe they were a normal couple on a getting-to-know-you date. They talked about their businesses, childhoods, and favorite vacations—personal, but not overly so. Alaina realized she’d been right that night six months ago. She liked him. A lot.
She wasn’t going to fall for him any more than she already had. They weren’t going to make love anymore, and she wasn’t going to let him kiss her again. He was fulfilling some kind of obligation to Gram and taking care of his personal vendetta. That was all. He already said he wasn’t getting involved with someone like her. Maybe he was only trying to save her like he couldn’t save Jana to help absolve himself of the guilt. Why else would he continue to wear Jana’s ring? And somehow that was much harder to take than a misplaced obligation to her grandmother.
By the time they returned to her house it was dusk. Alaina was more relaxed than she’d been since Gram approached her with the ring. The feeling didn’t last long after Patrick unlocked the front door. The air was cold and oppressive. Unhappiness leaked from the dark places. Turning the lights on didn’t help. The sense morphed, shifting into discontent and malice. Shadows filled the room.
The pipe-smoking ghost stood by the fireplace. The room glowed with imaginary firelight. His usual pleasant expression was gone. Unhappiness lined his misty face. He removed the pipe from his mouth as she approached.
“What has happened here?” he asked.
“Bad things. They killed my grandmother. Now they’re trying to kill me.” Alaina couldn’t lie to him.
“That’s not good. Not good at all. You must stop them. Those of us who belong to you now are dismayed.” He puffed the pipe, wisps of smoke circling his head.
“I’m sorry. I’m doing my best. Don’t listen to the dark voices.”
“We never do. Be safe.” He turned toward the fireplace, indicating the conversation was over.
Alaina went to the center of the living room and opened he
r palms. “I will not tolerate you wandering my home and interfering with my life. You will not gain my attention this way. If you don’t come to where I’ve stated, I will not help you.”
She turned and headed up the stairs, the ominous sense growing with each step she took. Patrick ran up the stairs behind her, grabbing her hand as she reached the top step. Soft light glowed from the open door to the room she’d created. The hallway walls seemed to close in around her with each step she took.
“You will not succeed,” a horrible voice said from behind her.
Chapter 7
Patrick pushed Alaina through the open door of the room where the shadows waited. She’d be safe in there. At least for now. As much as he wanted to get her far away from the danger, they couldn’t walk away and let the evil forces gain control.
He made it in the door as claws grabbed the sole of his shoe. The shoe came off easily enough, but the loss of his new sneaker pissed him off. He slammed the door a little harder than necessary. Alaina turned. He raised his hands and shrugged.
This was going to be a long night.
He sat in one of the comfortable chairs Alaina had insisted he move into the room because she felt bad he’d spent so long cramped on the wooden torture device last night. Patrick tried not to let the gesture touch him in any way but in comfort. He removed Jana’s journal from his back pocket, not sure what Alaina would think if she realized he’d snagged it from her bedside table.
It didn’t matter. He’d only given the journal to her to read, not to keep. The journal was his now. He hated that the bastard demon and his attempt to get him to leave Alaina had put a slight tarnish on Jana’s memory. Jana would have never done such a thing.
The thought that perhaps he carried an unrealistic view of how things had been between him and Jana struck him. When he finished the first few pages of Jana’s journal, he knew he had. His heart fractured as he focused on an entry with his name repeated several times.
Patrick tries so hard, but he doesn’t understand. He wants me to love this thing and be good at it like his mom, but I hate every second. I know I’m disappointing him and I hate that, but I’m also starting to hate Patrick because he doesn’t think I try hard enough or take care of myself well enough. I don’t give a crap where any of the shadows go. I’d put them all in Hell if I could. Stupid fragments of stupid people. There has to be a way out of this curse.
He closed the book, unable to read any more. Jana had been unhappy. Unhappy because, despite his deep love for her, he had helped to drive her away.
And that hurt more than the demon claws.
~ ~ ~
Alaina leaned back in the chair, her body drained and her mind the same. Patrick’s constant presence had been like a warm fire on a cold night, though she’d sensed warring emotions from him the entire time. She wasn’t sure she should ask him what was going on. Then she saw his wife’s journal in his hands and decided she’d better not.
Patrick was living in a world of pain. She’d helped create that pain by being the one thing he’d hoped to avoid. He wanted to kill his demons and live his life, not deal with her doing the same job as the love of his life.
She couldn’t figure out why the demons tried so hard to get to Patrick. To try to cause him pain—both physical and emotional. Alaina wasn’t going to let that happen.
~ ~ ~
Patrick didn’t like the look on Alaina’s face. It was trouble. The way she studied him chilled his bones. The fact she wasn’t so drained tonight gave him hope. He pointed her in the direction of the shower, reasonably certain she wasn’t going to crash like she’d tried so hard to do last night, and headed to the kitchen to scrounge up yet another wonderful casserole from the fridge. He’d cleared out most of the half-eaten food this morning, leaving only the most recent deliveries behind. The freezer was still full. Alaina wouldn’t have to buy groceries for a year, especially if Alona’s friends continued to bring food over.
He sniffed the concoction of beef, noodles, and peas. If he wasn’t mistaken, there was something seriously wrong with it. He stuck his pinky into the broth and touched it to the tip of his tongue hoping to figure out what the strange ingredient was. He couldn’t get to the sink fast enough. The taste wouldn’t leave his mouth regardless of how many times he rinsed.
Opening the fridge, he grabbed a beer. At least the carbonation helped to kill the lingering taste. Dumping the foil pan into the trash, he tied the bag and tossed the offensive mess out the back door. Now what? He wasn’t willing to chance another casserole. The same person who’d made the one in the garbage had dropped off a foil-wrapped pan this morning.
Eva St. John had been Alona’s best friend. Patrick wasn’t a stranger to her. She was a sweet lady with an apparent taste for excess amounts of cinnamon, ginger, lime, and maple syrup. He drained the rest of his beer, seriously thinking about rinsing his mouth out with bleach.
He opened the desk drawer and grabbed the menu for a local Chinese restaurant. Delivery would have to do. Since Alaina had started earlier tonight, the restaurant was still open. After calling in the order, he grabbed another beer, reaching for another when he heard Alaina on the stairs.
She smiled, the action not reaching her eyes, and pulled out a chair, accepting the cold bottle with a nod. “I think it went well tonight.”
“Me too. Except . . .” He shut his mouth, keeping his worries about the lack of dark crossings to himself for now.
“Except what?” She looked up from peeling the label off her bottle.
“Nothing. We’re not eating Mrs. St. John’s casserole. It was awful.” He glanced around her toward the front door.
She stared at him for a second. “Except none of the darker energies are coming to be crossed, which either means they’re being encouraged to stay away or something’s stopping them.”
He sighed. “Or both.”
The doorbell rang, saving him from her concentrated stare. She knew way more than she’d let on, and he had no idea how that had happened. Something had shifted inside her—her perceptions were clearer, sharper. His mother told him this was supposed to happen, but he’d never seen it with Jana.
He paid for the food, not remembering ordering so much, and returned to the kitchen. Alaina had set the table. She yawned, covering it with her hand, before helping him unload the containers of food.
“This is wonderful. Thanks.”
Patrick didn’t answer since his mouth was full of egg roll. Neither spoke as they ate. Alaina wiped her hands on a napkin, took a drink of beer, and then fixed him with a gaze that had him wanting her and cringing at the same time.
“What?” he managed to choke out, sure he wasn’t going to like whatever was on her mind.
“Did you see the little green shadow pacing under the front windows?” she asked.
“I did. It kept trying to get your attention. I thought you were ignoring it for some reason.”
“One of the other spirits was blocking me from seeing it. I don’t know why, but I wish I did. I don’t know if it’ll come back. Please. I have to know anything you notice. If you see it again, please touch my arm on the side where it is.” She met his eyes.
“Got it. Will do.” He winked, handing her another beer.
Their hands touched as she took it from him. He would have sworn there was a spark, but that was too clichéd to be true.
“What now?” Alaina started clearing the empty take-out boxes, tossing them back in the bags they came in.
“I don’t know.”
She took a deep breath. “Okay, here’s the thing. You’re not safe here. For whatever reason, those demons are a threat to you. Half of the spirits I crossed tonight told me your blood is wanted. I think . . .” She turned. “I think it’s time you went home.”
Was she serious? She’d be dead within hours if he left. He co
uldn’t help it, he laughed, and her face turned red.
“Not going to happen, babe.”
“Really. I think I have the hang of this thing now. Or I will soon. You’re in danger and I won’t be responsible for your death. Not after Gram.” She didn’t say Jana’s name, but he felt her thoughts.
“I’m not going anywhere. What you fail to realize is, like it or not, I’m your best bet at figuring this out. There’s more going on than you taking over your family legacy. Our lives are intertwined for the moment. The demons may be after me, but they won’t let you live either. Trust me. I know.” He touched her arm, but she turned away.
“I found my grandmother’s journal this morning.” She went to the pantry and opened the door. “I should have checked here first. Gram was most comfortable in the kitchen so it’s only natural she’d do her journaling in here. I found her mother’s book on the same shelf, shoved in the back. I’ve read a few pages. It’s interesting. I didn’t know—”
He couldn’t figure out why she babbled. “What didn’t you know?”
She swallowed, someone who’d said something they shouldn’t have. Her tongue was probably loosened because of the beer, and apparently she knew it. “I didn’t know how different Gram’s experiences would be compared to Jana’s. Gram loved being a guide. She considered it a great gift and honor. Her mother felt the same. And I must figure out a way to get to their same level of dedication and resilience.”
He was relieved and happy that Alaina had accepted and seemed to be embracing her new life, but the fact that Jana never could still ate at him. He sighed.
~ ~ ~
Shut up already. Alaina wanted to clamp her hand over her mouth to keep the stupid words inside. She wanted to shrink when she handed over Gram’s journal and he flipped open the cover.
He scanned the pages, the line between his eyebrows growing deeper. Finally, he shut the book and practically slammed it on the counter before shoving it back to her.
The Shadow Guide (Challenging the Fates) Page 11