Lost in Shadow (A Shadow Walkers Ghost Novel) (2 page)

He couldn’t breathe as the metal bit into him, taking his lifeblood. Gasping for breath, he narrowed his eyes, watching his brother, noting the shaking arms, the sweat dripping from his brow as Hamish leaned hard on the blade, straining, grunting, as slowly, inch by inch the dagger slid deeper into his chest until it stopped—hitting bone.

Hamish paled, his entire body quivering with the strain as he rocked back on his heels, and with a mighty shove Colin heard a crack, bone splintering as the dagger found its mark—straight into his heart. He dimly saw Hamish retching, wiping his arm across his mouth, putting his head between his knees to breathe so he wouldn’t pass out—it was a common bodily reaction the first time you killed someone. His heart slowed down, the strong beats becoming weaker, skipping erratically.

“It’s my time now, brother. My turn to be baron!” Hamish yelled.

The buzzing in Colin’s brain took over, his body shutting down, heart failing, breath coming in labored gasps, Hamish’s voice fading out.

“Rawlins, have this bloody, revolting mess cleaned up.” Turning on his heel as Colin shuddered, taking his last wheezing breath, blood slowly dripping on the damp stone floor; Hamish slid the ancient ring bearing the Campbell family crest off Colin’s finger. He wiped the bloody ring clean on Colin’s kilt before sliding it onto his finger and fled the dungeon.

Darkness was closing in, the roaring in his head subsiding. Colin could hear Hamish talking to someone, a woman—it couldn’t be—Abigail come to see him die. He would never trust another, never let another get close to him, and never fall in love again. The pain was intense, scorching its way through his heart, encasing the shriveled black lump in ice. Hamish and Abigail’s voices receded, his eyesight failed him—no, not yet—Hamish will destroy everything I’ve built. There are families depending on me, those who need me. I canna go, not now.

As he faded, the noise took over—like a winter thunderstorm, waves crashing against the rocks and one final dying thought screamed its way through his mind and burst forth, “Damn it to hell. I. Won’t. Die.”

The shadows came, sliding around the floor and slithering up the walls to swallow Colin. His dying soul fought, screaming out for more time, for another chance, for retribution. Filled with rage, he looked down upon his limp, earthly body. Through the mist and shadow, Colin saw lightning beckoning in the darkness, heard a whisper within the maelstrom—offering him a choice.

Present Day
Friday, October 30th

Edinburgh, Scotland

“How about touring Mary King’s Close, then the South Bridge Vaults? The Close is supposed to be the best-known, most haunted of them all on the Royal Mile. Who knows, maybe we’ll see Annie, the little girl who was killed during the Plague when they walled up the Close with people inside. It’ll be spooky fun. Old buildings, dark, dank, falling apart, what’s not to love?”

Emily’s eyes lit up at Kat’s suggestion. Breathing deeply, the air smelled crisp and brisk with a full moon trying to break through the clouds as a light drizzle fell on Old Town. Edinburgh seemed eerie with its cobblestone streets, tall medieval buildings so close at the top, the neighbors could reach out and touch each other, and shadows dancing on the streets, playing hide and seek with the moon as the sky darkened to indigo.

Looking around the old street, mist rising up from the cobblestones, curling around the buildings, the hair on the back of Emily’s neck rose, as if unseen hands in the mist caressed her. Shivering in the chilly air, the fog rolling in, she couldn’t believe she was actually here.

Back in the third grade, in Charleston, a boy named Dougal, from the Isle of Skye, off the coast of Scotland regaled her with fantastic tales of his homeland. His voice, the way he spoke, rolling his r’s, entranced her as she dreamed of warrior princes in a faraway land. When he moved away it broke her heart. Ever since then she’d fantasized about visiting the country. Wandering around the city, exploring the stone circles, all the moldy old castles, and historic buildings, she could barely contain herself from running up and down the street shouting with joy at
finally
achieving her dream.

Standing with hands on her hips, one eyebrow cocked, Katherine “Kat” Chandler was five foot seven, same as Emily, though Kat had long auburn hair showcasing a gorgeous creamy complexion topped off by piercing blue eyes. Red boots, jeans, a turquoise sweater, and an indigo scarf, topped off with a shocking pink coat complemented her striking looks. Sometimes Emily wondered if she needed sunglasses when she was around Kat. The girl always wore bright clothes, carrying an infectious laugh and smile to go with them. Emily didn’t care if she faded into the woodwork when she was with Kat. She preferred to be in the background rather than center stage.

Her best friend’s outfit contrasted with Emily’s worn, faded jeans, grey hoodie, black boots, and sensible, black pea coat. A silk scarf in shades of blue and gray which deepened the gray in her eyes, wrapped around her messy brunette updo, provided a hint of color. The two of them were like male and female birds. The brightly colored male eclipsing the drab female was how the two of them looked standing next to each other. Shrugging, Emily realized Kat was talking to her. She’d been having a hard time concentrating since the accident.

Eyes crinkling, a huge grin across her face, Kat snorted, “Seriously, earth to Emily. I promise to ask any ghosts we encounter to scare Charlie to death, just go on the tour with me, hon. Please?”

Kat could always make her laugh until she cried…heaven knows she needed to giggle and have fun. They were spending two whole weeks in Scotland after Emily’s last boyfriend, who was supposed to be The One, Charlie, a.k.a. the overgrown frat boy, almost killed her nearly three months ago.

“I am so over jerks treating women like disposable razors. Use one up; throw her away, on to the next.” Blowing bangs out of her eyes, Emily huffed. “I’ve had it with guys pretending to be caring and sensitive when all they really want is to screw anything with two legs and a pulse.”

The rat bastard was sexting Candy and driving while she herself was sitting right next to him in the passenger seat of the tiny BMW. What kind of a name was Candy anyway? Should have been the first clue. Some good friend she turned out to be. With friends like that who needs enemies? It happened so fast. One minute driving along, the next, Charlie lost control of the car, crashing into a tree. The car rolled on its side into the stream trapping her in the icy water.

The next thing Emily knew, she came to, screaming in the ambulance on the way to Mercy Hospital. Still couldn’t believe she had been declared clinically dead for eight minutes before they revived her. Someone must have been watching over her. Gotta love modern medicine. Charlie was basically unharmed, sporting a few cuts and bruises. Emily suffered the worst of the accident, sustaining a broken leg, broken nose, a punctured lung, and broken rib along with numerous cuts from the tree branches. Rehab had gone well. Thank goodness she was healthy and healed quickly, though she still tired easily. The doctors told her it would take a few months before she was back to normal.

Glaring at two kilted men walking along High street, Emily crossed her arms over her chest. “Maybe I’ll be an old, celibate spinster with lots of animals, spending my days scaring all the neighborhood kids. They can dare each other to ring my doorbell, which of course will be a creaking, falling down, spooky Victorian house.”

“Celibacy? Seriously? Has to be the funniest thing I’ve heard all month!” Wiping tears out of her eyes, doubled over laughing, Kat tried to catch her breath.

Emily scowled, fiddling with the zipper of her hoodie. “Well, I could be all those things. I really, really need a break from men and all of the drama that goes along with them. Time to get my head together—be myself again. Did you hear trampy Candy actually found someone to marry her?”

Tripping over a cobblestone, Kat’s mouth dropped open. “What? To whom?”

“She married some guy she met online. Apparently she was two-timing him with Charlie. They were hitched last month, she’s already pregnant. Bet she doesn’t even know who the father is.”

“Well, at least you didn’t invest any more time with him. Hell, think if you married him, he’d be screwing your friends. Except me; I like my men nerdy. That’s why I married Fred. I mean, look at him, he’s a real keeper. A certified public accountant, very down to earth, adores the ground I walk on. Most importantly of all, he accepts me for who I am—flaws and all. I don’t ever have to worry about him. He’d forget to eat sometimes if I didn’t remind him, I love his quirks. He’s like an absent-minded brilliant professor. I know it’s hard when someone we love, someone we think we’ll spend the rest of our lives with betrays us, but Emily…not all men are like Charlie,” Kat finished, hugging her best friend.

Linking her arm through Kat’s, Emily smiled. “You’re absolutely right. I’m done crying over that idiot. Let’s go have fun.”

She snorted as she thought of Kat’s adorable bumbling husband. “Hey, Fred is a great guy even if you have to lay out his clothes and remind him he’s still in his pajamas as he’s leaving the house to meet with a client. You two are perfect for each other.”

Looking at her watch, Emily pointed down the street. “OK, let’s go check out the Close and Vaults. But no pretending some ghost is grabbing your coat just to hear me scream my head off.”

Walking down High street, also known as the Royal Mile, Emily and Kat window shopped, enjoying the stores staying open late to celebrate Halloween weekend while making their way towards the tour.

“Wow! That’s something you don’t see every day.” Kat pointed down the alleyway where a construction crew was working. A piece of pipe was being lowered into a hole in the street. The pipe itself was unremarkable; however the crew was quite remarkable as five of the seven men had on modern-day kilts with pockets to hold their gear along with hard hats and bright yellow vests.

“Seriously, if our construction crews at home looked like that, everyone would have a lovely day,” Emily giggled, adding “of course the accent would be mandatory.”

“Well sweetie, it doesn’t hurt to look. Fred has a huge crush on those Victoria’s Secret’s models so I figure it’s okay for me to appreciate the local scenery.” Kat waggled her eyebrows while ogling the Scots as they walked down the street towards the meeting spot for the first tour.

Passing a building with gargoyles carved in the stone, Emily thought she saw something moving on the roof as the pale moon hid behind the clouds again. The drizzle had turned into a light rain, muffling the surrounding sounds. The smell of the stone, rain, and the early winter air made her think of a graveyard. Whispered on the wind, the words drifted to Emily.
Beware the Day Walker…he comes for you.
It was full dark, sinister, the revelers in the street doing nothing to dispel the sense of danger.

Passing the Spotted Hound pub, Emily turned to Kat, “Sorry, what was that about a Day Walker? What the heck is a Day Walker anyway?”

“Girl, I think the night air is going to your head. I didn’t say anything. Maybe it was a bird.”

Frowning, Emily looked around, but no one seemed to be paying them any attention. Reaching in her pocket, she pulled out the two small potato pies she’d been saving for a snack. Throwing them to the dog sniffing around the alley, she was pleased when the pup gobbled them up, wagging its tail in appreciation. Pulling her coat tighter, she shivered as the icy wind blew through her. Shrugging, she told Kat, “OK, must have been voices carrying on the wind though it really sounded like a warning. Ugh. Don’t look at me like that Katherine Chandler.”

Squaring her shoulders, Emily glared at Kat, “Yes. I do believe in ghosts. There has to be more to this world than corporate life in some dreary gray cubicle. Just because we don’t see it doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. Anyway, we could be back in Charleston, going in to work tomorrow instead of traipsing around one of the most haunted cities in the world!”

“All right sweetie, I’ll do anything but please don’t talk about work. I’m coming back as a farmer in my next life. It has to be better than writing proposals. At least animals pretend to listen.” Kat’s horrified look had Emily sniggering. Still chuckling, they queued up to purchase their tickets.

Entering the Close, the tour guide motioned the group closer. The guide’s name was Ian, and Emily thought listening to him read the phone book would be incredibly entertaining. She loved a Scottish accent—all those rolling r’s and the soft burr, granted he did look a bit scruffy with his black hair over his ears and five o’clock shadow. He was wearing a kilt with a pocket for his cellphone, Doc Martens, and a Celtic t-shirt to complete his look. She had no idea if there was anything under the kilt.

“Mary King’s Close is the most famous Close on the Royal Mile with over three hundred years of legends and ghost stories. You may very well encounter your own ghostie tonight. Did you know tomorrow is Samhain? It wasn’t always called Halloween. ‘Twas the night when wary travelers carved scary faces into pumpkins and placed candles inside them to light the way outside their homes for those unfortunate souls who had the misfortune to be out and about on such a terrible night. The lighted pumpkin lanterns were also to provide protection from any nearby evil spirits.” Cackling in a goofy evil voice, Ian went on with his spiel.