The Shadow Guide (Challenging the Fates)

by Victoria Smith

  “So I’m supposed to help them get where they’re going?” She studied the ornate orange and green carpet runner. Gram had always said she hated that rug.

  “Yes, but there’s more than that.” He moved his hand. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she hated the loss.

  “Like what? The bad ones?” Dread filled her stomach. There was no way this family legacy was as easy as telling the shadows to use door number one. There was also no way she was doing this.

  “We caught this too.” He handed her the headphones again and clicked on the mouse.

  Alaina listened as a deep voice said something she couldn’t understand. Two other voices joined the first. The words were so creepy the hair on the back of her neck stood.

  “The three-headed thing? What in the hell is it?”

  “No idea, and yeah, I think it might be our boys from the wall. Mick’s bringing me a translation program.”

  “I don’t understand. Tell me this is a joke.” She yanked the headphones off and dropped them on the desk. Dread continued to squeeze her internal organs.

  “It’s no joke. Honest. You’re going to have to trust me. There’s so much . . . I don’t even know where to begin. Alona should have a book around here somewhere that tells the history of this gift and the procedures. I’m afraid the only thing I can do is tell you what I know.” He walked over to the bookcase and stood in front, scanning titles she supposed. Somehow Alaina highly doubted her grandmother would leave the book in public view.

  “You don’t get it. I’m not doing this. I can’t. I won’t. It’s unfair. I want to be mad at Gram for not telling me, and I want to punch you for keeping everything from me. You knew from the second I called you this was probably what was going on.” She took a deep breath.

  “Not at first. Then I wasn’t completely sure. Alona never told me; I recognized the signs and assumed the rest until I arrived tonight. This isn’t something you tell anyone. People would freak if they knew how sometimes the souls of their loved ones were split.”

  “How do you know about all of this?” she asked, trying to absorb everything.

  “Jana was a guide. So were my mother and grandmother. I’ve been around it my whole life.” He stood at the window.

  “Why would someone’s soul split?” Most of her confidence had returned, but she still wasn’t taking this stupid job.

  “There are three distinct types of shadows to be crossed. They’re excess energy the person didn’t use while living. It doesn’t happen to everyone. When it does happen, when that person dies, the excess part of their soul can’t go to rest because it’s not ready or doesn’t think it’s ready. The ones who watch—the crouching, rocking ones—but don’t appear to want to do you any harm could be the excess energy from the disabled, handicapped, or mentally ill.”

  “And the evil ones are the remnants of a corrupt soul? Too focused on hurting people that they can’t go where average souls do?” She relaxed a little.

  “Yeah.” He yawned, covering his mouth with his hand. “Are you sure her book isn’t in the nightstand drawer beside your bed? It would be like Alona to leave it in an easy, but obscure, place.”

  “Truthfully, I didn’t notice.” She didn’t turn toward him.

  “Let’s go see if it’s there.” He hooked his hand around her elbow and tugged her with him.

  The quiet remained as they traveled the hall where so much had already happened. She couldn’t wait until this was over. This passageway was getting a complete makeover. There was nothing in her room when she stepped through the door. Not even remnants from the things that had vanished before she’d come in. That was good at least. But how did she know for sure?

  “What about the others—the shadows digging beside my bed or the ones who go about their business without really even noticing me?” She opened the nightstand drawer. It was empty except for the journal her grandmother had given her the night she died. Alaina wasn’t surprised.

  “They’re not the same as the restless ones. They could be like a residual haunting. Going through the motions of life without knowing why, or even being aware. Most people see that type of shadow person. Occasionally we’ll hear about interactions with the evil ones, but not often.” He closed the nightstand on the opposite side of the bed and then turned back to her. “Sometimes they don’t want to go, but your energy attracts them.”

  His smile flipped her stomach. Alaina couldn’t find the rest of the questions she’d wanted to ask. She sat down on the bed and her body relaxed.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you my suspicions from the start. How crazy would you have thought I was if I did?” He sat beside her.

  “Good point. Though I can’t say I think it’s any less crazy now. I didn’t realize how much of a weight having them around was until they left.” She sighed, feeling more like herself than she had in days. Alaina couldn’t dredge up her anger and hurt at Patrick for walking out on her that night. That should worry her, but the warmth of his hand on her face obliterated her senses. He was here now. Maybe it was time to let her hurt go?

  “It’ll be better since you’ve set down some rules. They’ll start to respect you, but your minimal control will end if you don’t follow through and start sorting them.”

  She turned her head quick, wanting to glare at him, but knowing he was right. Her breath caught in her throat as he trailed the outer rim of her ear with his finger. The intense physical need returned full force, or maybe it never left. Even when they’d argued she’d wanted to grab his ears and kiss him into silence. She gasped when his touch grew bolder, tracing the neckline of her T-shirt. Her body strained for his touch. She wanted this more than she ever imagined she could, and there was no reason not to give in. At least none she could think of with his mouth now on her neck.

  “We shouldn’t . . .” he said.

  She was afraid he’d walk out again, but it was a chance she had to take. There was no way to stop what was happening, and regardless of how she’d feel afterward, Alaina didn’t want to stop this.

  “I know.”

  He licked the exposed skin of her chest, tugging her shirt out of her jeans. He raised the fabric, his mouth traveling the trail of exposed flesh. His tongue circled her belly button when he pushed her shirt over her head and tossed it to the floor.

  Patrick sucked in a deep breath when he got to the pink lace of her bra. He traced the edges of the lace first with his finger, and then his tongue, finally moving his mouth to her still-covered nipple. She gasped. She was going to die from need.

  She reached for the hem of his T-shirt, yanking it over his head while he protested the distance between them. Running her hands over his chest and back, Alaina sucked in a deep breath as she traced his amazing muscles with her fingers, ignoring the wedding band hanging from the silver chain around his neck. She focused her tongue on the intricate tattoo on his chest. As soon as she touched it, she felt centered, whole. He finally unhooked her bra, dropping it on the floor beside the bed with a whistle of appreciation before moving to her. Unhooking his jeans, she slid her hands into the back and pulled them down, giggling when she realized he wore no underwear.

  “Didn’t have time to do laundry,” he said against her mouth. She could feel his smile, but the things he was now doing with his hands derailed her thoughts.

  He removed her jeans, licking the waistband of the pink panties that matched the discarded bra. Alaina couldn’t take it anymore. She needed him now. She pushed him back, stripping off the flimsy barrier and straddling him as her nerve endings tingled in anticipation. After he slipped on a condom, she lowered herself onto his hard length, her body began to clench around him. Intense waves of pleasure slammed over her as she rocked her hips, his fingers digging into her sides and urging her faster.

  There was a connection between them that defied logic. She seemed to be ab
le to read his needs and adjust her actions to make things better for them both. By the way he moved inside her, it seemed she wasn’t the only one.

  Locking her gaze with his, she felt she could see herself through his eyes—appreciation and need shone from him. Either that or she suffered from lack of oxygen from all the heavy breathing. It didn’t matter which; it unhinged something deep inside her.

  This was so much more than she’d ever experienced, and it made her want far more than she should. She rolled her hips over him, her sensitive clit rubbing against his pubic bone, heightening her trembling. She cried out, torn between wanting to fall against him and needing to move. His hands came up to steady her, urging her faster as his breath came out in a moan. She bit her lip, struggling to catch her breath, as she squeezed her legs at his sides. Everything tightened inside her; tremors rocked her body. Her face went numb and so did her fingers and toes. The waves continued and she found the energy to ride them for everything they had to give as her body released. Alaina felt freer than she ever had, more complete.

  The sensations and emotions took her by surprise even now as she curled up against his side. The powerful memory had her wanting him all over again. Patrick stretched, grabbing the blankets and wrapping his arms around her. She relaxed against him, accepting his comfort.

  ~ ~ ~

  Patrick opened his eyes, momentarily disoriented by the different surroundings. The sound of Alaina’s soft breathing brought with it the harsh reality of what they’d done last night. More than once. Despite the urgent need to untangle himself from her arms, he couldn’t. He didn’t want to. He relaxed slightly, replaying the previous evening and how he’d come to make love to Alaina.

  He regretted it—or at least thought he should. The mere thought of her passion made him hard again, even after the repeated times they’d woken each other during the night. He’d figured he was too old for that shit, but apparently not. Still. Making love to her had been a mistake. He wouldn’t get involved with a woman so like Jana again. There was no way he’d lose her like he’d lost his wife and child—and like she’d lost her grandmother. Jana’s death had almost sent him over the edge. The only thing that had kept him alive was his need for revenge.

  The need still raged. He would stop the demon. The bastard would pay for all he’d taken. Patrick would add Alona’s death and Alaina’s situation to his burden of revenge. The burn of anger stung his throat. Patrick swallowed to keep it from taking over. He should have walked away from Alaina when he’d had the chance. He should have kept his damned hands to himself, explained what her burden entailed, and gotten the hell out of her life. He’d been right to walk out on her that night in the greenhouse, but he couldn’t walk out on her now.

  She stirred beside him. He reached over to remove the hair from her eyes, the softness of her expression catching his breath. His chest tightened in a way he couldn’t accept. He slowly moved his hand away, doing his best to get out of bed without fully waking her. Zipping his jeans, he grinned when he remembered her fit of giggles over his lack of skivvies.

  Pausing, he glanced at Alaina one last time before closing the door behind him. The sun was rising, casting a warm glow inside the house. He expected angry shadows and more of the violence from last night, but the house felt calm—calmer than it had since he first figured out what was going on with Alaina.

  He started a pot of coffee before going into the office to check the equipment. Glad he’d sent everyone home when Mick went to the hospital, he grabbed his cell phone from the charger and turned it on, guilt spiking through him at his irresponsibility to his crew.

  Mick had reported in that his arm wasn’t broken and should be fine if he took it easy. He apologized for not notifying Patrick of his change in insurance and vowed he’d pay Alaina back for putting out the money to cover the bill.

  Patrick shook his head. He’d be better off letting those two fight it out between them. Dave had also gotten checked out. The doctor thought he’d hit his head based on his symptoms and treated him as if he had a mild concussion. He sounded fine, though unhappy at being taken off guard. Both guys wanted him to call them as soon as he was ready to roll the recordings from last night, otherwise they’d show up at Alaina’s around nine this morning.

  Patrick disconnected the cameras and rewound last night’s footage before scanning the shelves for the volume that would explain the history of Alaina’s legacy. Hopefully, it would help her accept her fate. Despite his attempts to find it on the shelves, he already knew he wouldn’t find it here. The thought of all the places the book could be in this huge old house was daunting.

  Alaina entered the room, carrying two cups of coffee. She handed him one, setting hers down on the desk with a sigh. He waited for her to bring up last night—to complain he’d taken advantage of her at a weak moment or tell him it was never happening again—but a quick perusal of his shirtless chest and an expression he couldn’t quite decipher was all he got. It wasn’t disgust, more like need, but he refused to believe it could be so.

  “Are you sure I have to do this?” She plopped down on the couch.

  “As much as I hate it, yes. You have no choice. I’m sorry. I know it’s not what you wanted to hear.” He pulled his shirt over his head.

  “So I have to sort the remnants of dead people’s souls?” She shook her head. “Totally unreal.”

  “I know. Someone has to do it. Not everyone can.” The irritation with Alona for not preparing Alaina filled him again.

  He knew the rules, but he didn’t like them. He’d always felt the guide should be trained throughout their life and know what they needed to do. Maybe Jana wouldn’t have been so angry and cold if she’d had more time to prepare. Another guide should have stepped in to train Alaina since her grandmother couldn’t. The fact there was no one bugged him.

  She sighed. “I’m going to make some changes in Gram’s room before I have to face those creepy bits again. Is that okay, do you think?” She wasn’t really asking his opinion, but he nodded his approval.

  “Changing things to suit you isn’t an uncommon way to start out. Since the spirits can be harder to control when you first begin, having a designated area makes the most sense. Eventually you’ll be able to do it while doing ten other things, but for now it’s best to totally focus.”

  “That’s what I was thinking. I still hate this.” She repositioned herself on the lumpy couch with a sigh.

  “Why the sudden change? Last night you would have rather burned down this house than accept your fate.”

  “First off, I told you I’ve never been as close minded as Gram thought when it comes to paranormal stuff. The last time the shadows showed up, I was twelve. I researched like you wouldn’t believe, but there wasn’t a lot of information.” She raised her chin as if daring him to argue. “After six months, they stopped coming and never came back.”

  “I still don’t understand why you went from being totally against it, to making decisions.”

  “Gram came to me in a dream last night. She told me how sorry she was she didn’t have time to tell me more and prepare me better. It sounds weird, but since you made me put this ring on, I feel different. I see more, and I can almost interpret the energy around me. Granted, I still don’t want this—not at all—and I’m going to do whatever I can to find a way out of it.”

  Patrick didn’t bother telling her there was no way out. Well, except for death, and he didn’t even want to think about the possibility.

  “You don’t have much time before they start in again. I don’t think they’ll be as nice as they were last night if you don’t follow through.” He opened the bottom of one of the end tables next to the couch, but found only unopened boxes of tissues.

  “Let’s start rearranging in there.” Alaina picked up her coffee cup and started out the door. She hesitated. He got the impression she was still a little scared
to wander the house on her own.

  Patrick didn’t blame her. Her proclamation would only keep them out for so long, and he doubted it would work on the truly evil ones. If he didn’t help her figure things out soon and take control, she’d be dead like her grandmother. Like Jana. Most of him wanted to run out of the house and never come back, but he knew he’d never do that. The sense of responsibility that had kept him using his psychic skills to help people had gone into overdrive where Alaina was concerned.

  And he didn’t want to think too hard about why.

  Alaina finally shored herself up with a deep breath and left the office. He entered the commands to start downloading the rest of the recordings from last night, impatient in his need to follow her. Before he could, Alaina returned, her face pale.

  “What is it?” He wrapped his arms around her.

  “The faces.”

  Chapter 5

  Alaina had thought her fear was gone and the control she needed had slipped into place. Ha. As she’d turned the corner to go up the stairs and start moving things around in Gram’s room, she’d seen them. Scary eyes and smirks on the wall beside the staircase. She moved and their eyes followed while chanting in a language she couldn’t understand.

  The rhythmic words calmed her fear. She faced the wall, allowing the soothing chant to wash over her. Color and soothing music swirled through her. Captivated by the sound, she leaned forward to listen. Her fingers brushed her ring as she put her hands together, the snap of her senses returning as an audible crack in her head. Maintaining the appearance of complacency, she tuned into the atmosphere behind the lullaby-like tune. Dark evil skirted the edges as if recognizing her awareness. Cold air wrapped around her as heaviness threatened to root her to the spot. She concentrated on the rapid beat of her heart and somehow managed to take a step backward. The next step was easier—though the lure of the music nearly overwhelmed her. On the third step, she forced her legs to run back to the office and the safety of Patrick. He held her as she struggled to catch her breath.