I shrug and continue toward the car. The underground parking is all one level and brightly lit. It’s never given me the creeps.
Until today.
I look over my shoulder as the elevator doors close and take a deep breath, wondering why everything feels so off all of a sudden. Because of all the shit that’s happened in our past, I’m so highly sensitive that I’ll make myself problems or give myself anxiety and a panic attack because of how my mind overreacts.
To combat the prickling feeling on my neck, I raise my chin high and walk at a faster pace, dragging my little suitcase behind me, a black faux-crocodile print affixed with stickers of all my favorite bands, some I’ve been lucky enough to see in person, others I’ve just dreamed about.
I pass by Putt Putt resting with a few other bikes and motorbikes in a stall, and keep going. It’s not the first time I’m wondering why our designated parking spot is so far from the fucking elevator.
And then I hear a faint fuzz and pop.
The space in front of me grows dimmer and I don’t have to turn around to know that one of the bulbs behind me just blew out.
Great.
I pause, even though I know I should just keep walking, and I slowly turn around.
It’s dark behind me, only faintly lit by the bulb above my head. The garage seems to hum at a low frequency, and I feel every hair on my body rise in response, including the ones on my head.
My nostrils flare, trying to breathe deep, to calm myself, my fingers gripping the suitcase handle for dear life.
And that’s when I see it.
Between me and the elevator, half-hidden in the shadows, something low to the ground and bigger than a dog, longer somehow, slinks across from one line of cars to the other.
The only thing I can really make out is the way the light catches on its claws as it pulls itself along the concrete, disappearing behind a truck.
A long leathery tail is the last thing I see.
“Your curiosity will go a long way,” a low woman’s voice says from behind me, her words crackling like static.
I let out a yelp, whirling around.
There’s nothing.
There’s nothing but deep mocking laughter in the air that reverberates around the garage, filling my ears.
I drop the suitcase, my hands flying to my ears to block the noise.
And yet it gets louder.
It’s coming from inside my own head.
“Stop it!” I scream.
And it does stop.
The garage hums with silence again, except for a faint scraping noise in the distance.
The sound of claws on concrete.
I hold my breath, trying to listen hard, to figure out if the claws are getting closer or further away, but I can’t make it out, I—
The elevator doors open.
A scream dies in my throat.
Dex steps out, backlit, seeing me standing in the middle of the garage, looking like an idiot.
“Perry? You okay?” he asks, adjusting his duffle bag on his shoulder as he comes closer.
I don’t move. I know it’s him, but all the same, I need to be sure. In the dark it’s hard to tell.
“Did all the lights go out?” he asks, stopping in front of me, and before I can move to see him at a better angle, the rest of the lights go back on.
He frowns, putting his hand on my shoulder. “What happened?”
I open my mouth to speak but I don’t know what to say. I don’t want him to worry about me. If I tell him I want to get pregnant yet he knows there’s weird stuff going on, he’s going to put his foot down.
But I also hate lying to him. And I’ve lied to him enough already.
“The lights went out,” I tell him, feeling breathless. My heart is going a million miles a minute. “And even before they went out, I knew something was wrong, something was off.”
“It’s okay,” he says, though clearly from the intense mania in his eyes, it’s not okay. He places his hand at the back of my neck. “I’m here.”
“There was…” I lick my lips, my throat feeling beyond dry. “There was something in here. With me.”
Anger flares in his eyes but he nods, trying to keep his cool. “Okay. What was it?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know. It had…claws.”
The whites of his eyes pop. “Claws?”
Yes. Claws we’ve seen before. At a sanitorium.
But I don’t tell him that. For some reason, it feels like I need to protect him.
“I just saw a hint of them. It was too dark. But that’s what it looked like, what it sounded like.”
He purses his lips for a moment. “I hate to sound like I don’t believe you, because I do, but is there a chance that we’re locked in here with a raccoon? Because you know how I feel about raccoons.”
I press my lips together and nod. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
Also, definitely not. But if that’s what he thinks it could be, then I’m going to go with it.
For now.
“Well, whatever it was, let’s get in the car and get the fuck out of here.”
No argument there.
He bends down to pick up my suitcase and quickly walks it over to the car. We throw everything in the back and pull out of there.
I’m watching the rearview mirror as we exit onto the street.
The lights in the garage behind us flicker a few times.
Then go out.
Seven
The drive down from Seattle is blissfully unremarkable, and despite what I thought I saw (and heard) in the parking garage, the brandy I had with my coffee has a tranquilizing effect on me. It isn’t until we’re just about to cross the bridge from Vancouver, Washington into Portland that I wake up to find everything engulfed in fog, the green beams of the bridge above us barely visible.
“Well, this is ominous,” I say sleepily as I sit up in my seat, trying to get a glimpse of the Columbia River through the fog.
Dex side-eyes me. “That’s what you get for having a November birthday in the Pacific Northwest.”
“Better than rain, I guess,” I say. “Wonder if it’s going to be stormy by the ocean? That would be cool.”
“I’m sure it will be. I feel like all you have to do is just show up on the coast and the storms come right to you.”
He’s kind of right, but even so it makes a shiver run through me. I’ve heard time and time again that I have a strange type of energy, which probably accounts for all the paranormal supernatural stuff happening around me.
On the other hand, Dex has that same energy. It’s no wonder that weird shit goes down whenever we’re together.
I mull that over in a sleepy silence, thinking back to Max. He was Dex’s protector and guardian, his Jacob. For better or worse, they had a relationship that spanned a decade. It doesn’t make a lot of sense to me why he wouldn’t be able to see or hear him. Max said that it was because we had sex that the connection between us was different, stronger maybe. Had I known that having sex would create a weird bond that lasts even after death, perhaps I wouldn’t have done it. It does make me think back to Mason, the poor guy I lost my virginity to. No wonder he flipped the fuck out after that and left.
“Dex,” I say carefully.
“Mmm?”
“Do you think I’m some sort of…sex witch?”