Page 40 of Purrfectly Haunted

I shake my head when I exit the toilets, and Shirley’s face has turned serious. Did Ewan lose sight of us in the crowd? I doubt it, we didn’t stray far from where we’ve been dancing all night.

We part the sea of drunk partygoers, the alcohol now making my blood sluggish, my anxiety rising painfully. Has some other dude picked a fight with Ewan? Did he get kicked out of the nightclub while I wasn’t there to protect him? I shouldn’t have let him out of my sight.

We circle around the massive nightclub twice before I find him leaning against a wall in a dark corner, looking pale. I reach for him, hands patting his body, wanting to know if he’s alright. He looks at me with surprise, as if he didn’t expect me to find him.

I pull his face to mine, both hands on his cheeks. “What happened?” I ask.

He probably can’t hear me over the loud music, but my question is quite easy to guess.

I read his answer on his lips: “Ghost.”

Of course. What made me think ghosts wouldn’t enter a nightclub? Ewan told me they love everything that remind them of being alive. And he can see them all, and not just the poltergeists who are strong enough to show themselves on our side. He can see and feel them, all the time. Death is always but a glance away for him.

I hug him briefly, squeezing his large body as much as I can to convey that I’m here for him. Shirley is watching us, worry etched on her face. I point towards the exit, telling her that we’re going. She nods and disappears in the crowd, probably to tell the others.

I grab Ewan by the hand and pull him through the crowd, pushing drunk people out of the way unceremoniously. I want to get him away from what he fears.

But how can I, when what he fears is all around us at all times, and only he can see it?

The nightclub spits us out into the cold night like a bad aftertaste. The street here is quiet, we’re on the other side of the entrance. Ewan’s hand is shaking in mine, and I push him against a wall and cage his large body with mine.

“You’re okay. I got you,” I say.

He lets out a shaky breath and buries his face in the crook between my neck and shoulder. “I’m sorry... It’s nothing... I didn’t mean to—”

“Shh, it’s fine.”

I feel the cold air on my naked arms, and that’s when I realise we forgot our coats. It’s okay, I can come back tomorrow to pick them up.

“It just... took me by surprise, that’s it. I know the signs, but I’m drunk, so I didn’t realise.” His breath hitches against my neck. “This guy came to talk to me. He was asking about his girlfriend, and something about a drug deal. But when he turned, half of his face was gone. And his eye was hanging by the optic nerve... it scared me, and I panicked. I’m sorry. I was trying to get it under control when you found me. I’m fine, we can—”

I rub the back of his neck. “Let’s go back to the hostel, shall we? Fuck this place.”

There are ghosts there, too, but those are predictable and we exorcised three of them already. And if the spirits of the dead are attracted to what reminds them of life, the nightclub must be crawling with them. To Ewan’s eye, the place must be twice as crowded.

“But,” Ewan says. “You were having fun. We can—”

“I was having fun because you were. I want to stay with you, and I want to see you happy. Do you want to go back inside?”

It takes him a moment to admit the truth. “No...”

“Then let’s go back to the hostel.”

“Aye...” he straightens up, looking at me with eyes full of gratitude and longing again.

I want to kiss him so bad, but it’s not right. Not when he’s so vulnerable. I want him to succumb to my charms, not fall in my arms from despair.

I’m about to say something—anything—to distract myself from his delicious-looking lips, when Shirley and the others stumble drunkenly out of the nightclub.

“I grabbed your coats!” she says, looking at us with a worried expression. “Are you alright?”

Ewan nods. “Thank you. I’m fine.”

Lana throws her arms around his neck. “Oh my sweet Ewan. Let’s go home.”

Home, I think with surprise. Lana is welcoming us into her home, not just as ghost hunters working for her now, but as friends. Into her sentient house, I recall. Yup, that’s another thing I need to process tomorrow.

We shrug our coats on and we start walking, Ewan at the centre of our small army, protected like a king. The others don’t know what happened, but the alcohol makes them ferociously protective. Especially Shirley, who barks at a group of men who try to talk to us on the way to the hostel.