Something in the Shadows

by Elle Beaumont

  Jonathan shifts under me, against my skin, and I gasp. Anyone that can make me feel as he does, anyone that can pull me back from the oblivion that continuously threatens to pull me under, is viable. "You are more alive than most, Jonathan."

  He pulls me flush against his chest, bringing forth a moan from me, then he spends the rest of the morning showing me how alive he is—we are—until we are thoroughly exhausted.

  The days fly by, much to my dismay. Each day, Jonathan grows quieter, his eyes more watchful, and it fills me with anxiety. What is he waiting for? Me to leave, me to stay?

  Except today. I can't find him anywhere in the house. So I venture outside, hoping to discover where he’s hiding.

  He's not on the porch swing, nor milling around the yard like he usually is, and he's not in the backyard.

  I pause next to the pond, eyeing it with trepidation. Is there some force beneath the surface, some demon trying to trap me? Images flutter behind my eyes, similar to the other day.

  My hands rush to my throat as panic fills me out of nowhere. I can't breathe. I want to scream, but when I do, I cough up water. Violent retches shake my body, driving me to my knees, and somehow I'm already in the pond.

  Water encompasses my body, filling every one of my senses. I’m trying to break loose from whatever has me in its clutches, thrashing violently against its hold. Jonathan isn't here to save me, and this time I'm going to die.

  Blackness fills my vision, and my body floats. Despite water pouring into my lungs, I'm conscious—I think. Suspended in the water, memories flash through my mind again, but this time they're clear, as if I'm watching a movie reel.

  Seth is inside Green Meadow Inn. His crew for the tv show is late, including his best friend Trav—no shocker there. I feel relieved. I'm hiding inside one of the bathrooms, biting in my bottom lip as I stare down at a pregnancy test. I'm pregnant. Happiness warms every nerve. We hadn't been trying, but we weren't not trying, either.

  "Baby, you almost done in there?" Seth knocks on the door.

  I open it, holding the pee stick as I look at him. "Yes, daddy." I wiggle the stick and his face lights up. In a blink, he's picking me up and swinging me around.

  "Really?"

  "Yes... I can't fake it." I laugh, slipping down his body and tugging on his hand. "Come on, before the crew gets here."

  Seth's eyes flick over my shoulder toward the door. "We have a few minutes if I go by their track record." He kisses me tenderly, then deeply as he holds my face in his grasp. "God, baby... I love you. Us." He drops to his knees and kisses my nonexistent bump, then pulls back.

  Giddy, we run outside, stripping our clothes as bolt into the pond. Seth scoops me up, my legs wrapping around him as we celebrate the life we made.

  A moment after we've finished, his phone rings. Of course... It's likely his crew interrupting. He winces and pulls away.

  "It's fine," I say, half meaning it. When he makes it to the embankment I swim away, then dive deep into the depths of the pond, laughing from the absolute happiness I feel. Bubbles of air escape me, then I feel the familiar press of needing air, so I push myself upward, but I can't move.

  My ankle is caught on something. A root of some kind? I bend to loosen it, but it's no good. I can't. Seth should be in soon, he will find me. He has to.

  Desperation fills me. I have to pull myself free. I'm panicking because I can't breathe. I'm not ready to die, not when I'm about to have a baby.

  No one pulls me from the water. I drown. I'm dead.

  Seth dives into the water, pulling my lifeless body free from the roots. He's sobbing over my blue body, cursing himself, his crew. Everyone.

  Strong arms yank me out. I gasp, immediately puking up water. "What am I?" I flail in Jonathan's arms. "Tell me, please?"

  His mouth parts, but he closes it and removes both of us from the pond. He doesn't speak until we are on the front porch swing. "You are Abigail Reed. But you are not alive and haven't been for three years. Every year you relive your death, then begin it anew. From the few weeks leading up to you leaving Virginia, to your death."

  My hands cover my face. "Seth didn't dump me?"

  Jonathan carefully pries my hands away, his fingers squeezing them. "No. You died here, in that pond. Every year Seth returns to Green Meadow, hoping to talk to you, and every year you wish to reunite with him. Except... this year has been different."

  "Different, how?" My question sounds sharp even to my ears.

  Jonathan grimaces at my tone. "I’ve been a part of this inn for a hundred years, and since the moment you stepped onto the property, I’ve watched you. Every time your loop begins, I comfort you, and every year you forget me.” His dark eyes flick downward, then he shifts uncomfortably. “Didn't you wonder why you were at ease with me? You've known me since your spirit clung to this world. I've never left you." His hands drag down his face as he sighs. “But this year, instead of returning with Seth, you stayed behind, and apparently you were more prepared for the breakup.”

  This is more than I can comprehend.

  "I couldn't watch you do it again. I had to break the cycle, Abigail. Please look at me." He tries to turn my head to look at him, but I pull away, then stand.

  I peer down at my hands, fully expecting them to become translucent, like Casper, but they don't. They are still my hands; still appearing to possess life.

  "But if I'm dead, the woman at the hotel... She saw me." None of this makes sense.

  "You're a revenant, like me. You can flicker in and out of the corporeal form, so when you're upset, you can't control it. Did you notice Seth reacting to things you said or did? It's because he saw them, heard them." He speaks gently, grimacing as he mentions Seth.

  At first, I think my heart races furiously in my chest, but as my hands rest against my breast, nothing beats beneath them. Just in case I’d doubted Jonathan’s words, the proof is in the lack of a steady thrum.

  Jonathan reaches out to comfort me, but I pull away.

  “I need a moment,” I say.

  The fresh pain from the memories twists my insides. But it’s confusion and hurt riding in the front seat. The past few weeks shift around in my mind, holes filling as the truth settles into place. I see everything in a fresh light.

  Why Seth ignored me at the house, and Snuffy curled around my legs. Our cat knew I was there, while Seth could feel me whispering across his skin. His attitude toward the brewed coffee cleared. He wasn’t agitated because I made it, but because a freaking ghost made it.

  In rapid succession, every interaction becomes clear, landing me on my bottom. I feel sick, but nothing is in my stomach. A shaky breath escapes me, out of reflex and not necessity.

  Jonathan didn’t betray me, but he withheld information, and I’m not sure if I’m okay with that. I know I love him, and I know my heart still aches for Seth, but if it’s been several years, wouldn’t Jonathan try something—anything? Perhaps I’m being too harsh.

  Silence spreads between me and Jonathan, and as it does, a compartment inside of my mind unlocks. Light spears through my eyes, sending me to the ground again. I gasp as flashbacks trickle in, replacing the old reel with the recent memories. Instead of spending time with Seth, I see Jonathan, comforting me, making me laugh—and not for the first time, my heart twists.

  The fog of confusion, accompanied with despair, dissipates. Jonathan is hovering over me, but I don’t turn to look at him. I need my space.

  “Abi—” My name dies on Jonathan’s lips, because I bolt away from him, into the house, and upstairs.

  Every year has been the same. I’m forced to relive the wretched memories and experience the loss of what could have been. I can’t imagine that it is good for anyone’s mental health, including a dead person’s.

  I groan, flopping onto my bed, then roll over to hug my pillow. Overwhelmed doesn’t begin to describe how I feel, and I don’t know what to be more upset about—the untruth, or losing my small family? Closing my eyes, I slip into what
ever a ghost calls their resting period.

  When I wake next, the sun isn’t up. Has it been a day, or weeks? I don’t know.

  I rise from bed and head downstairs. Jonathan is sitting at the dining room table, reading a book. If he notices me, he doesn’t show any signs. Annoyance tears through me. How could he withhold the truth?

  "Why not tell me sooner?" I ask, an edge to my tone.

  He pulls his gaze from his reading, then calmly asks me, "Would it have made a difference?"

  The fight evaporates from me. It wouldn't have, and I hate to admit it. So, I don't. "Do you know everything about me?"

  "I do. The first year, you broke down and told me all about you. Where you’re from, what it was like growing up." Jonathan closes the book and sets it down. He watches as I step further into the dining room.

  "And the second year?"

  "The second, you wished to stay here at Green Meadow. You didn’t, in the end. You went back to Churchville, or at least in your memories you did. It started the entire process again." He frowns as he says this.

  My heart aches. "Is that why you clung to me in bed, begging me to come back? You thought it was happening?"

  "I knew it would happen soon." His broad shoulders sag, but he stands up and closes the distance separating us. Lifting his hands, he cups my cheeks and holds my gaze. "What will you tell me this year? What words will you give me to cling on to?" Jonathan waits patiently for what I’d say next.

  Honestly? With my emotions raw from the events flashing before my eyes, I want to tell him to let me have a moment. But what I want more is his arms around me.

  "I've told you a few things. I love you, for starters..." I hiccup in the middle of a laugh, which turns into crying. "But you won't have to remind me, because this time I'm not leaving. I don't want to go through that every year. It ends here."

  Jonathan's black brows knit together. "What do you mean?"

  "I'm letting go of my life with Seth. I'm not alive, and I never will be again. You said you'd have me forever if I wish, and that's what I want, Jonathan Rainwater."

  Fear blazes in his eyes, and his fingers tense on my skin. Like he's afraid I’ll vanish in the next moment.

  "Is that a proposal?"

  "I reckon," I tease. "Consider it an unromantic proposal by a swamp rat."

  He peels away wet strands of hair from my cheeks. A slow, sensuous smile spreads across his face. "Well, Miss Reed, I accept."

  Before he has the chance to make the next move, I pull his face toward mine and kiss him slowly.

  If this is the way I'm to spend the rest of my days as an apparition, I don't mind at all.

  Elle was born and raised in Southeastern, Massachusetts in a little farm town by the harbor. She grew up fascinated with all things whimsical and a strong love for animals. As she grew so did her passion for reading and writing. Although she prefers devouring all genres she largely enjoys dark fantasy.

  She is married to her best friend and has two lively sprites who inspire madness, love and a sense of humor in her. They also have a menagerie of animals, two dogs, three cats and a horse. In her downtime, Elle enjoys creating candles, crocheting, horseback riding and running.

  Connect with Elle

  www.ellebeaumontbooks.com

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  Facebook.com/ellebeaumontbooks

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  Twitter.com/ellebeaumont

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  facebook.com/groups/ElleBeaumontStreetTeam/

  bookbub.com/profile/elle-beaumont

  ellebeaumontbooks.com/newsletter

  More From Elle Beaumont

  The Hunter Series

  Hunter’s Truce

  Royal’s Vow

  Assassin’s Gambit

  Queen’s Edge

  * * *

  Veiled Allurement: A Cinderella Retelling Novella

  Baron Weaver Series

  Game of Bezique

  * * *

  Secrets of Galathea Collection

  Brotherhood

  Bindings

  Voice

  King

  A Note to the Readers

  Dear readers,

  Thank you for taking the time to read Midnight Tide’s first anthology. We hope you enjoyed reading our unique stories centering around all things spooktacular.

  A special thanks goes out to Tanya, thank you for taking the time to read through, and cheer the authors on. You’re an amazing individual, and we appreciate your hard work.

  —authors of Something in the Shadows Anthology

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