“Good. Maybe because—” She jerked and stared at a shadow that had appeared on the stairs. A soul shadow. It was very roughly human shaped, but made of nothing but black smoke.
“What the fuck?” Warren whipped his head to the left, where another soul shadow had crept out from behind a ledge of rock.
“You see them too?” Esha asked. The shadow on the stairs began to solidify. Her eyes widened. That wasn’t normal. “Who are you?”
Esha stepped forward. It drifted back up the stairs, and the shadow from the corner zipped out to follow it.
“Wait!” She raced up the stairs after them, Warren and the Chairman at her heels. When she reached the now dim foyer, she waved a hand to light the wall lamps and caught sight of three more soul shadows of varying opacity. They drifted tow
ard the door and then straight through it and out to the street.
She ran to the door and swung it open. Full dark had fallen and the street was nearly pitch black. The soul shadows had blended into the night, but she could still sense them, hovering just outside the door, watching.
A blast of cold hit her, more than just the night air and the snow. Evil—and it was coming from some of the shadows.
“The dark hides them. Can you see them?” Warren asked from behind her. He loomed over her shoulder, peering out into the night.
“No. But I feel them.”
“Me too.”
That was bad. He wasn’t a soulcerer, so he shouldn’t feel them. With her skin crawling, she raised a hand and cast protective magic around the house. “They can’t come in now. I think they live in the city, and they came out to investigate us.”
“Do you know what they are?”
“Maybe. They’re not like the shadows of evil deeds that I normally see. They’re more solid. Some more so than others. I think they’re actually souls.” She shut the door and backed into the dim foyer.
“Whose?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think we should be out in the dark since they’re so much harder to see. They’re not all friendly, and I’ve no idea what they’re capable of.”
“Shite.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“Come on, I’ll make dinner.” Warren turned and started toward the back of the house.
She had to suppress a smile at the familiarity of him cooking for her without asking. Was this what it was like to be in a relationship? Just doing the little day-to-day tasks and looking out for one another?
Except that they were in a haunted city.
Even so, she could get used to it. Don’t. Self-preservation edged its way in on her sugary feelings. Hope beat back at it. Sanity won out.
She followed him to the weird old kitchen and said, “Actually, I’m beat. I think I’ll just have a granola bar in my room. Don’t worry about me.” She could conjure something decent for the Chairman. It wouldn’t take too much power.
“The hell you are. Set up this camp stove.” He pushed it toward her. “Please.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the Chairman glaring at her from in front of the fire. He wanted some of whatever Warren planned to make. Truth was, so did she, even though it would just be some instant camping meal. She’d tried to leave, hadn’t she? That counted as at least trying to preserve her heart.
“Okay,” she said, trying to keep the smile out of her voice. She looked around the kitchen, which looked nothing like a modern kitchen. Long tables butted up against the walls and a huge hearth took up one side of the room. Pots and pans hung from the ceiling, but there was no sink or oven or refrigerator. As ancient as the place looked, she had a feeling it was still far more advanced than what mortals had been using at the time.
The long table under the window was probably best for the camp stove. She set it down and bent over it, fiddling until the flame burst into life. She looked up to see Warren pulling a gallon of water and a few packets of some kind of camp food out of the huge duffel bag.
“Stove’s ready,” she said.
“Thanks.” He got to work, mixing and pouring, until dehydrated beef lo mein came back to life. “So. Why’d you leave America?”
She stilled. He wanted to know more about her. No one except Ana had ever wanted to know about her. And even Ana was primarily concerned with what it was like to be a mortal on earth, not what it was like to be Esha, specifically.