Page 18 of Marked By Shadows

“So am I,” MaryAnn stated. “I think Chad and the girls are too. We don’t quilt, but I use a lot of that fabric for handbags that I sell.”

I was too tired for this mess. Hadn’t realized how tired until the adrenaline began to fade. And frustrated. Alex needed rest. Maybe I should have insisted he stay home. Now we would both be jumping at shadows.

I tugged Alex toward the back entry where Freya stood, and thankfully he followed at a subdued pace. It actually worried me a little, how silent he’d become. Was he seeing something scary? I hadn’t felt anything. Not skin prickles or even an unease; well nothing more than being woken up to screaming could be attributed to. Had the shadow I caught a glimpse of been the cat? Perhaps even what had touched Julie and scared her?

Then there was Alex, silent and as pliable as a puppet in my hands. Was he experiencing an episode? Perhaps not even awake at all, but dreaming all this and moving where I led him? I gripped his hand, hating the idea of any of that, and not sure how to fix it.

Freya touched my arm as we passed. I noticed then that the backdoor was still open, as was the middle cabin door, which was lit up like Christmas, glowing with inner light. Freya was also not dressed for bed, instead hair styled and makeup on. Was she doing a middle of the night photo shoot?

“You two okay?” She asked softly.

“I think so?” I replied, not really certain of anything at that moment.

Byrony’s boyfriend was grumbling something behind us about them paying for the space too, so they could do what they wanted. I would have commented, but it just wasn’t worth it.

“Head back to bed. I’ll try to make sure the noise stays on par of those of you sleeping,” Freya assured us. Jonah passed, patting me on the back as he made his way back to his cabin. I tugged Alex to follow me. He clung to the back of my shirt, breath warm on the back of my neck as he tilted his head to rest it against mine. He was focused on me. That was okay.

Alex trailed behind me, slow as molasses. I paused to turn and examine his face in the light of the kitchen and now illuminated back porch. His pupils were huge. Dilated like he’d taken something, though I knew he hadn’t. Alex got horribly sick from most any medication.

“You okay?” I asked him, rubbing his cheeks with my fingers. He almost seemed to melt into my touch and sucked in a deep breath.

“Was dreaming of something…”

“Yeah? Do you remember what?”

“A light? A trail? Something in the forest.”

Usually that was my dream. “How about we go back to bed?” I prodded him toward the door and down the stairs. He felt a bit like a ragdoll in my arms, easily steered, but sticking close to me.

“Don’t go into the woods,” he told me.

“I won’t,” I promised, reminded of our conversation before bed. “Not without you.”

“They watch us.”

That brought a chill to my bones as I led him to our door and into the house. This time I left the light on downstairs in the kitchen, enough to give a nightlight sort of feel to the small space instead of the relative darkness afforded by the drapes.

“Who watches us?” I asked Alex while he struggled to keep his eyes open. After guiding him back up to the bed, I found a washcloth and wiped down our feet, dirtied by the walk through the night, and pulled the comforter over us. Ice was shivering through my veins now, more than the chill in the air, instead worry over something Alex might have seen.

“Alex?” I whispered, thinking he’d already fallen back asleep while an edge of nervous anxiety began to trickle down my spine.

“Them,” was all he offered, not opening his eyes.

I thought briefly about the shadow I’d glimpsed in the house. Admittedly I saw shadows a lot. Usually explained them away without thought. A trick of light. Something in my eye. Someone moving nearby. The cat even, when I was home alone. Only now did I think hard about that.

“Alex,” I whispered, expecting him to be asleep.

“Hmm?” He replied, humming into my shoulder where he had buried his face.

“Did you see the cat again when we were in the dining room?”

He didn’t answer for a while. Asleep? No, contemplating because he finally said. “Yes and no.”

“What does that mean?”

“It had changed.” Alex turned his face and opened his eyes to meet mine. “It didn’t look like the same cat anymore. It was distorted. Almost angry looking. I think because of what they were doing in the dining room. It was getting bigger, angrier until the light went on. Not the cat anymore. Something else…”

“Was the Ouija board agitating it?” It was something I’d never been a fan of. But in general, I didn’t mess with occult things. No opening portals or calling spirits. Even on the ghost hunts my shop hosted a few times a year, we searched for already active spirits. We did not demand their presence or call them into existence.