Page 92 of Purrfectly Haunted

In the days after my rescue, Lana suddenly announced she was done with her family name. She didn't want our home to bear the name of the monster who almost destroyed us. So after a short consideration, the hostel was retitled Purrfectly Haunted Hostel, leaning heavily on the feline and spooky vibe of the place. I must admit, I kind of I love it. She immediately commissioned a new cut-out for the main entrance, this time with a ghost cat.

"Wait until you see James wearing it, too," Shirley says. "The way the cat ears and tail fit him so well is uncanny."

My heart rate quickens. "Where is he?"

"Upstairs. He's helping all the guests get settled."

I kiss her on the cheek. "I'll drop my bag and help."

I make my way through the busy hall, then up the grand staircase. Misty the white cat follows me to the first floor and jumps into my arms. I cross paths with three employees, all wearing the same costume. The hostel is heavily decorated, from real pumpkins on every available surface, to garlands and skeletons. Fake candles hang from the ceiling in the hallways.

Misty jumps from my arms when we reach Lana's office. I enter to give her a quick peck—she's busy arguing on the phone with someone. Her cat ears poke out of her red, curly hair. She pinches my cheek and smiles brightly at me.

How I love this place and these people, I think, joy filling my chest.

My return to normal life hasn't been easy. Some nights, it's hard to know what's real and what isn't. Sometimes I feel like I'm still stuck in limbo, and this life is but a figment of my imagination, something that I made up to survive my harsh reality. But in those moments James is always by my side, and he patiently coaxes me back to steady ground.

While I was gone, he moved into a real bedroom on the fourth floor, with a larger bed and a private bathroom and shower. When I came back from the hospital, he simply led me by the hand and dropped my bags in his room. I've been sleeping with him ever since. He admitted it was as much for him as for me. He hated the thought of not seeing me first thing in the morning. He's struggling with the trauma of losing me. They all are.

Since my return we haven't… James is handling me with care, and he hasn't touched me beyond hugging me. We just kissed last week for the first time since I came back. Gentle kisses, and it's starting to drive me mad with desire.

I reach the third floor and find him guiding guests to their dormitories.

Oh my god, I think, seeing him with the cat ears, tail, and bat wings. He's wearing a black, sleeveless crop top and his tattoos are on full display. His cargo pants are hugging his narrow waist, revealing just a sliver of his V-line. He's breath-taking, as always.

I still can't believe this man is in love with me, no matter how many times he whispers it in the dark at night when we share a bed. It still feels unreal, like something I made up in my head during my most desperate times to help me hang on to this life.

James sees me, and a bright smile lights up his face. "Ewan. You're back already."

I nod, my heart ready to explode. I missed him so much during the last three days while I was gone, it's ridiculous.

We both come to each other like magnets, our bodies melting into one with an embrace. He smells so good—like home. The guests are staring at us, but we don't care.

Then he gives me a chaste kiss before asking, "How was it?"

"Good. But also hell."

"The tattoo?"

"Aye," I say. "I tried to hide it, but one of my brothers saw it when I was taking a shower—they don't know about privacy—and he ratted me out immediately. My mother was shell-shocked. I think any other time she'd have whipped me, but she held back a little considering…"

Considering I just came back from the dead.

Last week I got the same tattoo as James on my back. An intricate circle with runes and symbols to protect me from ghost possession. As a powerful medium, I can't let entities have their ways with me like this. Never again will I be a puppet for the dead.

As much as I adore tattoos on others—especially James—I never imagined myself with one. It felt like the gentle giant persona just stuck to my skin. But I have to admit, the piece on my back fits me now. Some part of me was irremediably changed during the past year.

"So, how can I help?" I ask, gesturing to the our surroundings.

"You can rest. You had a long journey."

I shake my head. "I want to help. This is my home now, too, and I need to pull my weight."

While I was gone, nobody paid the rent for my small flat in Edinburgh and I lost it. One of my brothers had the presence of mind to go pick up the boxes the landlord packed of my belongings. Lana was quick to offer me to stay at the hostel with them. How could I refuse, when I wanted nothing more in life?

The university was very accepting of my situation, and they allowed me to restart the year where I left off. My rugby team welcomed me back loudly, even if some of them I never met before. I'm trying to get back on track quickly by training hard and working out a lot. I'm tired all the time, but everyone is feeding me an ungodly amount of healthy food.

"Alright," James says. "Then you can drop your bags in our room and help with the sixth dormitory. There was an incident with a group of late risers, and the beds aren't made yet."