“Wait—” Alaina started, but was interrupted. She paced the small space available in the office, stopping herself from kicking the leg of the couch.
“Tea time is at two. We usually have cookies, coffee, and of course, the teas. I can’t understand Rosemary’s obsession with that rose tea. Anyway. I don’t know why I’m being so silly and telling you all of this when it’s in the email I sent. Did you get that email, dear?” Finally she closed her mouth.
“Excuse me. I emailed you two days ago to tell you the house would not be available for your meeting.” Alaina took a deep breath to keep her temper in check, but it was a losing battle.
“Oh. You were serious? Well. Silly me. Oh, I almost forgot. Take it easy on the floral arrangements. Mrs. Jameson has developed the most annoying allergy to roses so if you could keep those away from her seat. You did get the seating arrangement, right? It must be followed specifically. We can’t have Brenda and Chloe arguing over golf again. Of course, I will be over early to inspect everything and make any necessary changes.” There was the sound of ice clinking in a glass.
“The house is not available for your meeting. Not tomorrow, or ever again. You’ll have to make other arrangements. While I originally intended to honor some of Gram’s associations, I am unable to make my home available. I have a business to run and am not available to your group. I cannot believe my grandmother allowed you to use her for so long.” Alaina wanted to hang up but found she couldn’t.
“I certainly hope you’re not planning on changing Alona’s home. She would be crushed. That’s not the proper way to honor your grandmother. You know she’s not even been in the ground a full week. The historical society would be most displeased. This home is an icon and should be a museum. Alona had agreed to leave it to the society in her will.”
Oh. Please.
“Yes, I am well aware of how long it’s been since my grandmother passed away. Thank you. Regardless of what you say, this house belongs to me. Which is why I am completely galled at your rudeness in insisting your free meeting space, free lunch, and free waitstaff be available on your whim. What I do with this house is none of your damned business, and I’ll thank you to not bother me again.” Alaina thumbed her phone off, pulling her arm back but not throwing it through the window like she wanted.
Patrick raised a brow. She rambled on about what the woman said, her irritation refusing to subside.
“And I bet she shows up here in the morning anyway.” She wanted to kick something.
“I only heard your half of the conversation and I wanted to reach through the phone and choke the woman.” Patrick grabbed her hand and squeezed.
“What makes me the maddest is how much work we have to do and I’m so irritated I can’t even think straight.”
“We’ll worry about her later. When this is over, you get to throw a royal temper tantrum.” The words were barely out of his mouth when her cell phone rang again.
“Shit. It’s her again.” She held the phone, unsure of whether or not she should answer. Still mad, she answered, ready for more angry words.
“Clearly you’re too distraught to see the importance of our hosting the historical society meeting in Alona’s home. It’s a fitting location for one of the most prestigious social groups in town. There is no other choice but Alona’s home. We will be there at seven-thirty. I expect my instructions to be followed precisely.” Maribelle’s haughty tone grated on Alaina’s nerves.
“Like hell. If you show up the police will escort you off my property. I will make sure everyone in town knows how you have disrespected my grandmother’s good name. You can put that in your tea and drink it. Or is it bourbon in your glass?”
“But . . . but where will we meet?”
Had she actually gotten through to her?
“I don’t care. If you think I’m joking, then try it. I guarantee Gram had more powerful friends than you, and they’ll be the second phone call I make after the police. If you continue to harass me I will go to the police now. I’ve recorded our conversations and saved your emails.”
“Well, fine. This is your problem. Not mine. We’ll see how long that house stays on the historical registry when you’re done butchering Alona’s hard work. Why, you ought to be ashamed of yourself.” She hung up and all Alaina could do was smile.
“Ten bucks says she shows up anyway.” Mick threw a ten on the table.
“You’re going to bet on my misery?” Alaina couldn’t help but laugh.
“Sure. What the hell. I’m in.” Patrick put his money down.
“Whatever. Let’s get back to the riddle stuff.” Alaina set her phone on the table beside her and threw down a ten. Mick and Patrick briefly smiled and then ignored her, continuing to discuss their opinions on how Maribelle acted in bed, until she cleared her throat.
“Okay. ‘Inane sweetheart spanks.’ Ideas?” He rolled his eyes.
“They’re all dirty, so no.” Mick tapped a few keys on the computer.
“What?” Patrick stood and paced.
“You’ll need to back up for me. I’ve heard bits of conversation—Alaina has a job to do and she’s strong and blah blah blah, but I have no idea what it means. What the hell is going on here?” Mick didn’t turn from the computer screen.
“Okay. Alaina is a guide. Or a sorter. The remnants of souls that don’t cross with the body for whatever reason need to be directed to their final resting places. There’s not enough logic left for them to be able to find their way to peace on their own.”
“Not like hauntings though, right?”
“No. More like a restless haunting, but different. There’s no purpose to the shadow being’s presence other than the sheer excess energy preventing those pieces from crossing over. Most are completely harmless, and some, even though they are shadows, appear to be more like a traditional residual haunting. Then, there are the seemingly scary ones, but they would never intentionally cause harm. Like the little critter we caught perched on the counter in the kitchen this morning. They’re more apt to follow the guide around until she helps them find their way.”
“Scary didn’t even begin to describe that.” Mick shuddered. “It was like a cross between a dog and a troll.”
“But harmless. Mostly harmless. If enough negative shadows are around they can be convinced to follow, but they’re not capable of knowing exactly what they’re doing.” Patrick sat for almost an entire ten seconds before getting up to pace again.
“And then there are the mean ones.” Alaina’s hands and knees throbbed in phantom pain.
“Capable of doing harm and more than willing to carry it out—the remnants of violent and evil souls. The hatred and discontent is what remains when the body dies. They want attention and fear and will create havoc to get it. They’re not really interested in crossing over, especially when negative forces are feeding them chaos. The fear they create is something they crave. They’ll go to any lengths, even kill, to get the thrill of causing terror. They appear to need a little more encouragement to go that far. Like the stronger dark forces that don’t need to be crossed—the ones that hang out here to cause trouble.”
“Okay, but I don’t get this whole crossing thing. What exactly does she do?” Mick nodded toward Alaina.
“I decide the proper final resting place for them. And I am in the room so you don’t have to continue talking about me like I’m not.”
“Sorry. We’re used to bouncing things off each other. Drives the rest of the crew nuts, too.” Patrick’s apologetic smile erased what had been only minor anger.
Mick nodded, agreeing with Patrick. “So how do you know where they need to go?”
“I have to follow my instincts. Most of the time, it’s clear—like someone who had a generous heart and died before their time. The light coming off them is different than the mean ones. The dark ones try
their best to confuse me. They want to go where the peaceful ones go so they can create discontent. Let’s face it, when you’re in a room full of nasty people, it’s kind of hard not to have chaos.”
“You’ve got a point. But how do you know?”
“The ring helps. According to Patrick, I’ll have an easier time as I gain skill. Sometimes it’s really hard to know for sure. They’ll take the features of an old woman, or a child. Naturally, you’d think those visages would be pleasant, and perhaps you’d cross them without seeing below the surface. That’s what they want.” She watched as Patrick closed his eyes and swiped his hand down his face. Something she said bothered him, but she didn’t know what.
“So they try to trick you.”
“Yeah. I’m not sure if they have enough awareness to actually try to trick me or if they’re only projecting the false image they used in real life. I sometimes ask them a few questions or sit quietly to soak in their presence. Usually I know where they should go within a few seconds. At least now. At first it took a while to allow myself to see their true essence. The second time was easier. Or at least I think.”
“Okay, so then how does Patrick have anything to do with this?”
“Being a guide is a hard job. While she can sort without having me in the room, it’s a risky thing for the untrained. Usually their mentor helps at the beginning, but since Alona passed before she could educate Alaina, she has me. I help bring the balance and make sure she’s safe and is taking care of herself.”
“How do you know what to do?” Mick turned in his chair, studying them both.
Patrick briefly gave the same history lesson he’d given her a few short days ago. “The mentor is supposed to be someone emotionally tied with the guide—usually the person who is passing on the ring.”
“But now it’s you,” Mick said.
“Only because there is no one else who can teach Alaina what she needs to know and support her until she gets the hang of things.”
“You don’t believe you’re helping her for any other reason?” Mick studied Patrick for a few seconds before turning his attention on Alaina. “You’re both stupid if you can’t see—”
A loud crash stopped Mick mid-sentence. Cold air streamed through the now-broken window. Alaina stood, watching Patrick move the heavy curtain. The glass was shattered in an intricate spider web pattern, blood seeping through the cracks and running down the larger sections of glass.
“There’s some heavy plastic in the closet, and I think a staple gun too.” Alaina opened the closet door.
Mick held his hand out. “Give me that black powder stuff.”
Alaina watched as they hung the plastic, holding her breath during the whole process. It was obvious they’d been given some kind of sign. The breakage interrupted Mick’s speech, and she knew what he was about to say. The realization had been growing in her heart along with her feelings for Patrick.
They were emotionally tied enough for him to be able to ease her into her guiding duties without any complications. Patrick was going to love that. Too bad he would never love her like he loved Jana. After making love several times throughout the night, he still wore Jana’s ring around his neck. Alaina needed to get a clue and sever the growing complication of loving him before she ended up more hurt than she was already bound to be, but how could she when she needed him so much.
With the project complete, Patrick ran a healthy bead of the black powder on the section of windowsill they’d left exposed. He took a deep breath. “Bitches.”
“Okay, so how does all of this connect? How can this much crap go down if all she does is sort shadows and all you do is support and protect her?” Mick was relentless. Alaina wanted to smack him.
“Good question. Why and what that creepy three-headed thing is spouting off is what we need to know.”
“Why isn’t there a lot of information on the shadows?” Mick sat down at the computer.
“Not everyone can see them, but people react to the energy they bring with them. Kind of like a riot mentality. If there’s enough negative energy in any situation, bad shit’s going to happen. That’s what they do. They’ll feed off one person’s anger and push it through a crowd, no matter what the size.” Patrick sighed.
“Makes sense, but there has to be more than one guide.”
“There are many. More than you can imagine. With the proper training, those guides are able to keep the negative energy to a minimum. If that makes any sense.”
“Enough. It still doesn’t answer the question of how we’re supposed to stop these demons and what those three demons want.”
Patrick turned. “The only thing that springs to mind is blood.”
Chapter 11
“Well, that sucks. I don’t believe we’ll count blood as an option.” Alaina touched his arm.
“Dad told me something about how my great-grandfather made a deal with a demon. Apparently my great-grandfather was ill and became jealous of the time my great-grandmother spent sorting. Sounds like maybe lead poisoning from some of the symptoms my great-great grandmother wrote in her journal. He was a stained-glass artist. Eventually, the dark spirits got to him—were able to corrupt his already fragmented brain, and he made a deal that, in exchange for his soul, my great-grandmother would be free from sorting. He thought that was what she wanted.” He didn’t want to continue. Didn’t want Alaina to be afraid of what happened, regardless of it being decades ago.
“What happened?” She eyed him warily.
“When he accepted the deal, the demon took his soul and tricked him.”
“Your great-grandfather killed her, didn’t he?” Alaina shuddered.
“He did. The demon gave him no choice. He wrapped a rope around her neck and choked her to death. Then, he cut out her heart as an offering to the demon. He was easy prey because of whatever caused his mind to slip away.” Patrick swallowed hard, wondering how desperate a person had to be before becoming demon prey.
“So, now what? How do we stop the demons?” Mick kicked Patrick’s chair as soon as he sat down.
“Alaina has to do it.”
“With your help, even though you’re not her true mentor?” Mick’s eyebrow rose, his sarcastic tone irritating.
“Shut up.” Patrick stood, wanting more than anything to walk out and slam the door behind him.
The thought of having his body inhabited by whatever bastard had used him as a meat puppet kept him in the room. Even though he didn’t remember the experience, he hated how he felt once the thing was finally out. Alaina didn’t say a word. Waves of anger flowed from her. He didn’t dare try to engage with her for fear she’d singe his eyebrows. She didn’t want to be his burden.
He got up, needing distance, and went to the door.
Mick blocked his path. “It’s not safe out there.”
“I’ll be fine.” Patrick moved to push Mick aside.
“Yeah, and you don’t care how this affects anyone but you. Stop being such a selfish bastard.” Mick crossed his arms, his fists clenched.
“Fine,” he said, backing away from Mick.
Alaina patted the couch beside her and, despite not wanting to go, he did.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Everything. Alona said this crap has something to do with me, and it’s driving me nuts.”
“I know, but what could it possibly have to do with you?” She didn’t touch him, but he wanted her to.
“Maybe someone I’ve pissed off by helping people overcome the paranormal shit in their lives? It’s my fault you’re going through this. I’m sorry for making you feel like you had to do this alone.” He choked back emotion that washed over him when he said alone. Jana felt alone. No matter what he did to help her, she did. He swore Alaina wouldn’t suffer the same fate.
“We’ve both ha
d to come to terms with a lot the past couple of days. I’m sorry about your wife and child. I really am.” Alaina blinked as a tear trailed down her cheek. He wondered how much of his emotions she’d sensed.
“Again, if you have to, go. It’s okay. I’ll figure it out on my own.” She raised her chin.
“You can’t stop them without me. They’ll kill you.”
“Then they kill me. Patrick, I can’t play this game with you. You run hot and cold—one minute you’re making love to me like I’m the most important woman in the world, and the next you’re throwing your dead wife in my face and letting me know how much you can’t do this with me, how much you don’t want to do this.”
His pride shriveled a little. She was right. He hadn’t been fair. Instead of sharing his past experience with her to help her understand what she’d be dealing with, he’d used it like a shield to keep her away. And it still hadn’t worked. She’d become wound around his heart in a way he never believed possible.
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Apparently I’m not doing a very good job. Alaina, I’m sorry. I’m not walking away. I can’t, and not only because your grandmother thinks I’m in danger.”
She opened, and then closed her mouth, blinking up at him with a little bit of confusion and surprise. She didn’t speak for a few seconds as a chill filled the room around them. All Hell was due to break loose.
“Okay then,” she said. “I have another idea, but I have to be in the sorting room with you.”
Patrick wrapped his hand around the back of her head and kissed her. Whatever locks he’d kept secured around his heart broke free, and his love for her swelled inside. Alaina stepped back from the kiss and met his eyes.
~ ~ ~
She was drowning and didn’t want to be saved as Patrick reclaimed her lips. If his kiss was any indication, he was as conflicted about his feelings for her as she was for him. Alaina allowed him to touch her hidden emotions—her fear that one of them wouldn’t live through whatever siege they were under and that after this was all over he’d change his mind when life returned to a semi-normal state.
The Shadow Guide (Challenging the Fates) Page 16
