Chapter Nineteen #3
“And I’m La—” He laid a hand on his own to try to quell his blood’s pounding.
“Jamie,” he said. He glanced in Rose’s direction to see if she’d caught him, but she looked completely unfazed.
Jamie, he thought. Jamie, Jamie. The trouble was, the closer he and Rose got, the more he felt like his old self—a man who’d been in hiding longer than he cared to think about.
The tour guide nodded and left them to greet another group of eager tourists. “Thanks for doing this with me,” Rose said, flashing him another megawatt smile. “I’ve wanted to do this for weeks, and Graham flat-out refused.”
“I can’t imagine saying no to anything you asked,” Landon said, before he could stop himself.
Rose’s eyes flashed. “Careful, or he might start to worry he’s going to be replaced.”
Landon knew he should say something to refute her, but for as many times as he’d already lied to her, this was one he could not manage.
She moved on easily, though the fire in her eyes remained.
“Graham claims he gets a pass as an Edinburgh native—that he’s probably done tours like these dozens of times in his teens.
I reminded him the slate’s wiped clean if you don’t remember it, but Graham just seems to make up new rules depending on what works best for him that day. ”
Landon grabbed the one place he’d ever heard Graham was lacking and pulled. “I don’t see the point in starting over just to close yourself off.”
“That’s why we get along,” she said. “I’ve been meaning to tell you that.”
His chest tightened. “Well, I’m glad you did.”
“No, really,” she continued. “There’s just something about you. I know a lot of people who’ve taken the pill, but you’re just…” She paused, searching. “I think we’re having a similar experience. I feel like you just get it. Like you’re my emotional mirror.”
It was a compliment, but Landon felt momentarily thrown.
The delineation between him and Jamie grew fuzzier by the day, but there was no getting around the fact that he was acting.
“I’m really glad I ran into you,” he said, leaving out the part where he’d painstakingly orchestrated their entire meeting.
A pang roiled through him. Was it guilt?
Best not to give it any air, he decided.
“Welcome,” the guide boomed. The woman was a solid two and a half feet shorter than Landon, but she had the lung capacity of a person twice her size.
“Welcome to City of the Dead Tours. Tonight, we’ll walk through the haunted streets of Edinburgh, journey deep underground, and experience firsthand those things that refuse to stay buried. ”
Landon was going to have to trick himself into turning full Jamie, because even this small speech made him sick.
Rose elbowed him in the ribs. “You said you believe in ghosts, right?”
Landon thought back to their hike up Arthur’s Seat. That hadn’t been a lie, at least. “Yeah,” he said. “And right now, I really wish I didn’t.”
“Edinburgh is a city steeped in the stories of the dead, built on their bones,” the guide continued.
“Plague victims who died inside their homes, public hangings in the Grassmarket, bodies stolen and carried away down the darkest closes. Some spirits can’t move on.
Others refuse. And I’ll be honest with you, this tour is not without danger.
You’ve all signed a waiver, so consider this your final warning.
If you’re not comfortable with the idea of a spirit encounter, leave now, and collect your refund at the ticket booth. ”
“I love how they sell it,” Rose said.
Landon gulped. “I don’t think I signed a waiver.”
“I signed for you.”
The thought made him grin, when with absolutely anyone else it would have given him pause. “How am I supposed to sue if I faint?”
“Don’t faint.”
Their tour guide’s lantern rocked as she stepped in front of the tree and waved them toward a steep alleyway.
“Some of you might see things tonight,” she said.
“Some of you might feel things. Try not to be alarmed. Though if you feel anything painful—a scratch, a scrape, a bite—please, tell me. We do our best to record the attacks.”
“Attacks?” Landon said, sure he was not hiding his discomfort at this point.
“You’re not going to get attacked.”
“This is exactly how the horror movie starts,” Landon said. “I get complacent, you tell me I’m the last person an evil spirit would target, and my face ends up slashed end to end like I fell into a meat grinder.”
Rose chuckled. “You want to call it all off? I know a good ice cream shop, and I would hate for you to lose half the skin on your handsome face just when we were really starting to get to know each other.”
Handsome. She thought he was handsome. That was certainly better than ice cream. He gritted his teeth. “Come on then,” he said. “Let’s get this over with.”
Rose shifted beside him, her feet like two sides of a scale trying to settle.
Then she reached for his hand. She’d done it before, on top of Arthur’s Seat.
It had felt friendly up there, like she was saying ‘Look at this! Can you believe this? How lucky are we?’ This felt different—a decision rather than a joyful reflex. And it did not feel friendly.
Landon did not call attention to it. But he knew that something was shifting between them. That they would walk away from the night changed.