Page 87 of Purrfectly Haunted

"What?" she asks.

"I have him. I have Ewan."

She instantly starts sobbing on the phone.

Carrying a six feet two unconscious rugby player to my car is as expected a hardship. He's such a dead weight I eventually have to drag him on the forest floor, dirt and branches be damned. Ewan will forgive me for the scratches and burns.

I heave him at the back of my car with difficulty after tying him up. He's still out cold, thankfully, but his breathing is stable—we did worry the dosage would be too much. Pearl sits on his chest, looking about to gouge his eyes out with her claws if he only moves.

"Be nice," I tell her. "You know it's not his fault he's possessed by the asshole from the basement."

Her tail swishes angrily.

I cover him with a blanket, just in case. I'd be hard pressed to explain this if we get pulled over by the police. "Sorry officer, I just kidnapped my ex-lover to exorcise him from a centuries-old poltergeist." I snort.

I check the time on my phone. It's one in the morning. I can make it back to Edinburgh before sunrise if I gun it. Lana and Shirley are already making preparations and setting something on fire to have an excuse to evacuate all the guests for a day. As I said, we've been ready for this for months. We're playing to win.

I take one last look at Ewan's shape under the blanket, my heart swelling in my chest, and I start the engine of my Ford Capri.

When we finally make it to Edinburgh, both women are waiting for us outside of the hostel, pacing. The sky is getting lighter and a few early risers are already in the streets. I drive to the back alley and the three of us carry Ewan inside through the back door. The girls can't stop the tears from spilling over even as we stumble to the basement with our heavy load.

The guests are nowhere to be found. Lana apparently paid for brunch for all of them in a nearby hotel while they "investigate" the cause of the fire. They promised them the issue would be resolved by noon, so we better hurry.

We chain Ewan to the basement floor with the iron anchors we drove into the concrete. Months ago, Lana hired a crew to refill the crevice created when Earl Lynch escaped his prison. Then we carved a confinement circle and poured salt paste in it, now turned as hard as stone. We just left one part of the circle open, to allow him in, and Shirley closes it now.

We stare at our work. Ewan is still unconscious, chained on the floor, and I feel like crying too.

Now the hard part begins: the exorcism.

twenty-two

Fractured realities

EWAN

Ithink I'm losing my mind. I'm seeing things that can't possibly be true. My loneliness must be gnawing at my sanity. I thought that I saw James for a moment. James and Pearl, the ragdoll cat from the hostel, through the fog between limbo and the outside reality.

But something happened to my body. I felt the pain recede for the first time in an eon, and now the monster is stuck with me in limbo. On this side, he is shapeless. A cloud of darkness raging against it's new confinement.

"Not so fun, being stuck here uh?" I tease him.

He roars, and I just laugh manically to piss him off further. Here he cannot hurt me. I have long since learned to shield my mind and close it off from him.

What's going on? I wonder again.

Time stretches, until one sudden moment, the monster breaks free of limbo. I almost regret his presence. It felt nice to have company, even from my tormentor. But then I realise that the walls of my mind prison are gone, and I can follow him to the light.

Fully going back to my body is a strange feeling. Pain is replaced by an overload of sensations. I can feel the rough floor on my back, the cold air on my sweaty skin, and the tingling in my sore limbs.

I blink away my confusion and find myself staring at a dark ceiling. A cave? No… Shadows dance on the walls, and I follow them to their owners. Three people are standing a little farther away. I squint, but I get distracted by the glowing eyes in the dark behind them. So many eyes.

Demons, I first think. But no… Those are cats. I love cats, I remember.

"Ewan," says a familiar voice, and my eyes snap up.

This voice…

James is standing over me. He looks different. His hair is longer and tied back in the way that he favours, half up, the back loose. There is a little tear tattooed on his right cheek, and the left has three scars. I've never seen someone so beautiful in my entire life, and I say it out loud.