Page 14 of Marked By Shadows

“We’re working on that,” Alex told her. I actually hadn’t realized he’d noticed, but of course he had. He always seemed to pick up on those little things no one else did.

The month he’d been gone had been a struggle in a lot of ways. Keeping busy meant no time for food. Or at least no motivation for it. “I eat when Alex eats.”

She patted my shoulder, knowing a lot more secrets about me than most anyone I knew.

“I’m fine, I promise,” I said. I had not relapsed, and having Alex close helped with that internal thrum of anxiety that always had me on edge. “I’m looking forward to a few easy days of sewing and fabric shopping.”

“He is a bit of a hoarder,” Alex pointed out like he was divulging top secret information. “For fabric, mostly.” His face scrunched up in thought for a few seconds before he added, “And crafts.”

“Sounds like everything is normal then.” Freya finished up my measurements. “Escape while you can. The longer you stay, the more they will bug you to join in.” I could hear the group moving around the house asking the white lady questions. They had turned the lights off upstairs as soon as we’d left that floor.

“Is there a white lady?” Alex asked.

Freya held out her arms. “I’m a white lady, aren’t I?”

I laughed. “Yes, but not a ghost.”

“Nope,” Freya assured us. “There is no confirmed history of any mishaps in the house. I’ve been here almost ten years. The house is old, so there could be something off record, but nothing I have seen or can point to in history. We are not a ‘haunted hotel,’ just a crafter’s paradise.”

“Well that’s good news,” Alex said.

I reached for his hand and tugged him out of Freya’s space and toward the backdoor. “We’ll see you in the morning,” I told Freya. “Alex and I need some rest.” And I was hoping to sex him up a little before calling it a night. Or at least wrap myself in him.

“Don’t forget breakfast at eight. The bus will leave at 9 for the shop tour.”

“We’ll be ready,” Alex assured her. “There’s a bus?” He asked me.

“We are part of a tour. There will be other people on the bus, not here at the hotel, but it’s easier if we travel with the group to all the Houston shops. Then there’s no parking to worry about, or navigating an unfamiliar city.” Though I knew Houston pretty well. “It’s actually very relaxing. The shops all have different lines of fabric. We’ll likely see most of it at the convention, but I do like to support the small local stuff.”

Alex nodded, deep in thought. Hopefully he wasn’t going to be bored out of his mind during this trip. I dragged him toward the cabin. The dark path illuminated by solar lights helped ease some of my anxiety. Alex, however, vibrated with tension walking across the lawn.

“My yard is more closed in than this,” I reminded him.

“And surrounded in lots of talismans to ward off scary stuff,” he threw back, intent on keeping our feet on the path.

“Which helped when something took you?” He had vanished from the bench in my garden, sitting beneath the giant willow.

“Fuck,” Alex muttered, gripping my hand tighter.

We got to our cabin. I was happy to get inside and turn the lights on. The distant trees and wide-open space before them felt a little unnerving, even if I knew whatever stories about the house the others might be seeking were probably false. My anxiety rose mostly because of Alex’s unease. Although the sounds of the early evening were normal enough with birds and crickets singing. Alex relaxed a little when we got inside. He kicked off his shoes and the light coat I’d picked up for him for the chilly evenings.

“Weird that she has a cat and runs a craft hotel. What if people are allergic?” Alex said as he locked the door behind us and pulled the curtains shut for privacy. He double checked the lock on the door. “And all the cat hair on projects. Jet leaves his hair everywhere. I bet a white cat is insane for prints and dark fabrics.”

I blinked at him, trying to catch up to his thought process. “Precious has been gone for almost a decade. She passed pretty quickly from cancer. That was before Freya began doing retreats.”

Alex frowned, brows narrowing and deep thought coming to his face. I did not like that expression because it meant he was adding up things that didn’t make sense to most people.

“You saw something,” I said, instantly recognizing where his cogs were going and remembering the way he’d looked around as we had toured the house. “Did you see a ghost cat?”

“I saw a cat,” Alex corrected.

“The one that was in the picture with Freya.”

“Yeah, white fluffy, not quite Persian, since the face wasn’t flat, but yeah.” He stared at me, looking a little worried. “It was in the dining room with us during dinner, then a few other places wandering around as we got the tour.” He paused. “No one else acknowledged it, but I thought maybe they were just ignoring it? I felt it rub against my leg like Jet does…”

I couldn’t help but marvel at Alex. When he saw something like this, so clear he couldn’t decipher reality from the paranormal, I wondered if it was something he’d been born with and never realized, or had been birthed from his encounter in the Afghanistan desert. That night, and the following terror filled days had awakened him, if not spiritually, then at least cognitively. We didn’t discuss what he saw, not in any real context, though I knew he’d been researching the idea of djinn, which were a sort of demon-like mortal creature in Islam and a few other Middle Eastern beliefs. They lived mortal lives, like humans, but did not have a corporeal form other than fire and smoke. They could also possess people, make them do things. That part scared me.

Until Alex had been taken and showed up on camera feed in some far away airport looking liking a zombie, I would never have believed it possible. Now I wasn’t sure.