The Shadow Guide (Challenging the Fates)

by Victoria Smith

  “No. I’m not. That one you should watch out for. Chaos supreme. I can’t stand it. What I’m seeking is a way to balance things.” He smiled, revealing pointed white fangs surrounded by equally sharp-looking teeth.

  “Really? Somehow I don’t think your motives are that pure.”

  “I knew you were going to be a pain in my ass. Though you do have a great ass, by the way. Still. The power you represent would help immensely. I want you to consider my offer.” He relaxed against the chair, stopping the rocking motion with Dave’s booted feet.

  “I don’t think so. Who are you? Satan?” She didn’t believe so but figured he’d take it as a compliment.

  He laughed, actually tipping his head back and letting out a roar loud enough to rattle the windows. “I wish. No. Let’s say having you on my side would definitely get me back in the big guy’s good graces. He doesn’t like the balance of power disrupted, and it seems I’m partially to blame.” He rocked again.

  She stared at him. This wasn’t what she expected, but then, what was anyway? “I think it’s time for you to leave. You’re not welcome here again.” She casually raised the hand with the ring.

  He laughed. “I don’t fear what you are. I know my place. Think about it.”

  “I don’t think so.” She stepped back, ducking down as Mick and Patrick swung their arms forward, dousing Dave’s body in holy water.

  Steam rose as guttural screams echoed through the room. Dave’s body jerked, slumping down in the chair after enduring what seemed like a seizure. Patrick and Mick ran to his side, checking for a pulse and trying to revive him. She waited, watching their efforts.

  “He’s dead.”

  “Damn it. Call an ambulance. Wait. How the hell are we going to explain this?” Mick paced, his movements quick as he ran his hands through his hair.

  Dave took a deep, shuddering breath. His eyes opened and he coughed out a mouthful of blood. Every person in the room stopped, staring at him and waiting for the dark, evil voice to erupt around them once more. He shook his head and wiped his mouth, blinking when he saw the blood on his hand.

  “What the hell? Which one of you jerks hit me?” Dave stood, grimacing when he stretched. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Voices rose as Dave was pumped for information. “The last thing I remember was Patrick blowing out the candle. I felt something at the back of my neck and then nothing. Dude, I feel like someone took a crap in my mouth. What the hell?” Dave wiped his hand over his mouth again, his eyes big with fear despite the light tone of his words.

  “How the hell did that thing get in here?” Mick asked, checking the line of black powder across the door.

  “He snuck through when I called Gram. He probably attached himself to the first spirit I spoke with.” Guilt filled her. Contacting Gram might not have been a smart move after all.

  Patrick glanced over his shoulder at her and shook his head. “He also might have already been here and we trapped him inside. No one leaves this room without protection.”

  “How is she supposed to do what she needs to do? We can’t stay here. We’ll die.” Dave shook as he started to sit in the same chair before changing his mind.

  “I have these.” Mick held up a handful of leather straps.

  “That looks useful. And kinky,” Dave said, rolling his eyes. Alaina could sense his fear and worry.

  “Shut up. They’re amulets to protect us from demons.” Mick passed out the necklaces.

  “Nice of you to give these out after the fact.” Dave took his with a sneer.

  Mick ignored him and handed Alaina one. She held the silver charm in her hand as she watched Patrick shake his head.

  “What? You want to be possessed?” Mick tried again to hand Patrick the remaining charm.

  Patrick slid his shirt over, revealing the tattoo she’d traced with her tongue. “Supposed to do the same thing.” Patrick winked at her and straightened his shirt.

  Her nerve endings sparked, but she tried to brush the shared memory aside. “My grandmother said they can’t hurt Patrick and me if we’re together. Scaring the hell out of us is another story entirely, but we can’t be possessed.” At least she hoped not.

  As the crew gathered to replay the previous evidence, Patrick joined her on the couch as Mick moved the footstool over and leaned in. “I think we should send everyone home.”

  “I agree, but I already tried.” Patrick sighed.

  “No. You gave them the option. I’m saying we shouldn’t give them one. I’ll stay, but everyone else should go home.” Mick glanced over his shoulder.

  “You should go too. It’s not safe,” Alaina said.

  “I understand. The thing is I don’t think I should.” He looked away.

  “Why not?” Patrick narrowed his eyes as he studied Mick.

  “Right before you blew out the candle a woman spoke to me. She smelled like roses and she said I had to help you both. She said it was imperative I stay with you.” Mick shook his head.

  Alaina had no doubts Gram had spoken to him. She nodded. “Then you stay. Tell the others to go.”

  “Are you sure it was Alona? That demon could have set him up.” Patrick focused on Dave.

  “I am sure.” She smiled at Mick. “I hope you’re ready for some of the stuff you’re going to see.”

  Mick smiled. “Bring it on.”

  “Dude,” Dave called, removing his headphones. “Do you know what you’ve got here?”

  “What are you talking about?” Patrick asked.

  “These recordings. The confusing ones. Shoestring. The hero stuff? It’s not a bad adaptation of English, and it’s not your translation program. This is a riddle or maybe a secret code. We need to figure out the key.” Dave put the headphones back on.

  Patrick turned back to Mick. “That’s the most progress we’ve made since that stuff was translated, and he hasn’t even heard the other recordings.”

  “If he manages to solve it he’ll call from the safety of his couch.” Mick stood.

  Patrick grabbed his phone.

  “Who are you calling in the middle of the night?” Alaina asked before she could remind herself it was none of her business.

  “My dad. Time doesn’t matter to him. He never goes to bed before dawn. He gets a lot done during the time the rest of the world is in bed. When stores started staying open twenty-four hours he was ecstatic. He’s a riddle fanatic. I should have called him when the translation program continued to return the same results.” Patrick laughed, though thick tension still filled him.

  He pressed the button to dial, standing as it began to ring.

  “Dad?” He stepped to the doorway of the room.

  Alaina wanted to tell him to stay inside their safe haven, but he shook his head and mouthed he was fine while pointing to his tattoo. At least he didn’t open his shirt so she could see it again. Alaina wanted to argue, but before she could open her mouth he disappeared through the door, stepping over the line of black powder.

  He was on the phone for what seemed like forever. He paced the hall right outside the door. Occasionally she could hear him speak as he walked by. She had no idea what the entity that tried to offer her a job really wanted. His story didn’t make much sense. She wasn’t sure he had anything to do with whatever was going on in this house. Alaina was pretty sure he was simply an opportunist sensing the unrest in Gram’s old house and whatever supposed power she was told she had. Besides being fatigued, she felt the same as she always did.

  Patrick finally came to the doorway, easing off the blanket of anxiety when his gaze settled on her. Only the heaviness in her chest didn’t completely fall away. He scanned the room, not paying attention to her for a long time as he watched the guys on the computers. When he did finally turn to her, he stared at her face long enough unease sprouted in her stomach
.

  “I need to speak to you in private.” He pointed at her.

  “You said groups of no less than three. That makes it kind of hard to be private.” She tried to laugh, but the sound strangled in her throat.

  “You and I are fine as long as we’re together.” He smiled, the quick flash of teeth and lips never reaching his eyes.

  Had his father told him something terrible?

  She tried to ignore his quick, jerky movements as she stood to go with him. Mick glanced at her, raising an eyebrow at Patrick’s cold demeanor. She shook her head, more worried than anything. Whatever Patrick’s dad told him couldn’t have been good. Mick passed her a flask of holy water as she passed. Alaina tucked it in her pocket, hoping her wariness was for nothing.

  Patrick reached for her hand, but as his fingers brushed her palm she withdrew. The vibes emanating off him weren’t good, and she couldn’t get too close to him or she’d risk sending herself into a spiral of negative emotions. Better to talk to him first. Then she could offer her comfort.

  She followed him to the dining room. Patrick moved the curtains to stare into the backyard, apparently needing a few moments to collect his thoughts. The clucking of the ceramic chickens lining the tops of the kitchen cupboards echoed off the walls. This knickknack shit had to go.

  Alaina wasn’t sure how Gram’s friends would react to the changes that were going to occur in the quaint showcase. Between the tea club, book club, and historical society, there used to be people in this house daily. Which brought to mind another concern: the historical society president had continued to call Alaina several times a day, ignoring the emails and phone messages Alaina had left to tell her they would need to find another venue for their meetings.

  As much as Alaina wanted to honor her grandmother’s former alliances, there was no way she wanted that flock here every third Tuesday. She’d again responded to the woman’s email—and her decision had nothing to do with the woman asking Alaina if the space was still available during the memorial service for Gram. The evening after the funeral the Ladies Tea Club secretary had called to ask the same thing. Bitches.

  The single-minded need and lack of respect irritated Alaina. Those people hadn’t really been Gram’s friends, regardless of her membership in their exclusive clubs. They simply wanted to continue to take advantage of Gram’s hospitality and obviously expected Alaina to pick up where she’d left off—serving snacks and cleaning up after they left. Alaina wasn’t going to be doing that. This was her home.

  Deep in thought, she watched Patrick’s back as he continued to stare out the window. The fit of his button-down shirt tucked into tight jeans did something to her nervous system, even though she was wary of him right now. She should get away but couldn’t.

  “Are you going to stare at me all day?” His voice was deeper, hard.

  She realized he’d turned and now faced her. Heat crept up her neck and ears. Shaking her head, Alaina pried out the sexual thoughts, but the heat in his eyes prevented the total removal.

  “What’s wrong, Patrick? What did your dad say?” She stepped toward him instead of following her instinct to move away.

  “Basically what I expected. There won’t be a problem figuring this out. I’m certain of it.” Something shifted across his eyes, and she backed up, reaching into her back pocket for the flask of holy water.

  “You’re not Patrick.”

  “Oh, but I am. Only improved. Now I think it’s time you show me a little bit of the love you show him.” He stepped toward her, moving much more quickly than she thought possible.

  His eyes flashed red as he laughed.

  Chapter 10

  Alaina flicked the top off the container and splashed the holy water into his face. He screeched and stumbled backward into the table as she ran for the den.

  “What’s wrong?” Mick asked as she jumped over the line of black powder.

  “He’s possessed.” She somehow managed to tell Mick what happened.

  “Freaking great. Now what?” Mick’s hands shook as he refilled the holy water.

  “I think it’s time we all had a little heart-to-heart.” Whatever was now occupying Patrick stared from the doorway.

  “I think it’s time you go back to Hell.” Alaina doused him with the blessed water again, trying not to let absolute terror take over.

  “Already been there, babe. In fact, this guy lives in his own personal Hell. You should see what’s going on in this mousetrap he uses for a brain. Whoa. Heavy, sad stuff. But you’re in here, all glowing and light to contrast the pain. Too bad he’ll never get to come to terms with how he feels for you. Hell, I don’t even live here and I can tell how much he needs you. He doesn’t want to. You should know that.”

  “Oh please. Quit trying to screw with my emotions. Get out of him and go away.” Alaina found the bravery someplace she didn’t realize existed.

  Her strong front seemed to snap Mick’s formerly cool and collected control back into place. “Guess this’ll be a new experience for all of us. Anyone know anything about exorcisms?”

  Before anyone could answer, Patrick fell to his knees with a groan. He slumped forward, half his body over the black line and the other half in the hall.

  “Someone with one of those protection charms get out there and pick up his feet.”

  Alaina expected hesitation, but there wasn’t any. Patrick’s legs were brought through the door as Mick grabbed the top part of his body. Someone else made sure the line of black powder stayed solid, which was good considering it appeared to be their only line of defense against these things.

  They were in big trouble.

  If they could only get Patrick conscious so they could figure out how to stop the insanity filling the house. Patrick breathed deep as she checked his pulse and ran her hands over his body for signs of injury. Chaos erupted outside the office. Pots and pans rattled from the kitchen; silver and glassware crashed against the walls and floor. Water ran and toilets flushed. Cold air streamed down the hall. Furniture thumped above.

  Alaina tried to ignore the cacophony and concentrate on getting Patrick back to awareness. She continued to run her hands over his chest while she listened to what was going on around them. Patrick grabbed her hands gently and pulled her against his chest.

  “If you keep rubbing on me I’m bound to embarrass us both. What the hell happened? The last thing I remember is telling my dad good-bye.”

  She stared at him, wondering how he was going to react when he found out he’d had a being sharing his body for a few minutes. He sat up, holding his head in his hands.

  “Your tattoo doesn’t work.”

  “What the hell?” He glanced at her, realization dawning over his face. “Fuck.”

  She glared at him, wanting to remind him that they were only safe together and how he had ignored that, but she struggled to keep her mouth shut for once. He shot her an annoyed glare, and she realized he’d read her thoughts. She met his eyes, not backing down, especially after what he’d put her through.

  “Crap. What happened?” He searched her face, his concern melting the cold spot that had wrapped around her chest and heart.

  She told him, not grasping his hand when he reached for hers. The worry and fear on his face undid her, and she finally wrapped her fingers around his. “You really scared me.”

  “I can imagine. I’m sorry.” He shook as if removing the last vestiges of whatever had captured his consciousness.

  Mick handed him a cup of coffee from the pot they’d moved into the office. Patrick stared into his coffee, deep in thought.

  “Shake it off, Ice Man. We have work to do.” Mick clapped him on the back a little harder than usual.

  “What did your dad say?” She tried not to remember how he’d answered the last time she asked the question.

 
Patrick took a deep breath and closed his eyes, swiping his hand down his face. “He’s working on it.”

  “Good.” She squeezed his hand, wishing he at least remembered something of when his body was being used.

  Patrick stood and cleared his throat. All eyes turned to him. “There’s no choice now. You all ignored me the first time, but now I’m serious. Go the fuck home. This house is too dangerous. Take whatever evidence you want to go over and call me if you find anything. And thanks.”

  A collective groan filled the den. Within moments, despite the grumbles, the room had cleared out, the front door closing behind what Alaina figured was a very relieved bunch of people.

  “Dude. Let’s get started figuring this out. At least you know the translation program works, unless those freaks are using the same one.” Mick laughed and sat in front of the computer, an ancient-looking book to his left.

  “Okay. One of the things they said was ‘shoestring’. Would it relate to feet? Maybe an example of what they planned to do to Alaina?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. I need more.” Mick toed him with his boot, impatience obvious.

  Alaina knew how he felt. The information would go a long way toward figuring this riddle out. Her cell phone rang from the makeshift desk where she’d set up her computer while Patrick reorganized the remaining equipment. She noted the time, surprised someone would call her so late, and picked it up though she didn’t recognize the number.

  “Alaina, darling. This is Maribelle from the historical society. As you know, our monthly meeting is scheduled for tomorrow morning at eight. I thought I should remind you we’ll arrive around seven-thirty a.m. Alona prepared coffee, tea, and the most delightful pastries for our arrival. I hope you plan on continuing her tradition. I’m sure she left the recipes for you. Of course, if you had stayed to help her more you would already know these important tasks. We’ll break around eleven for lunch. I emailed you the list of dietary restrictions. Please follow them to the letter. We can’t have anyone having an episode when we’re trying to conduct important business.” The woman laughed, and finally paused for a breath.