Shadow and Stars

Twenty-Seven

"Come on, Julian."

"Where are we going?" he asks from the passenger seat of my car, tugging at the black blindfold around his eyes.

"You'll see. If I tell you, it wouldn't be a surprise." I can hear the playful, flirty tone creeping into my voice, and I wish I could see his entire expression to know if he is enjoying this as much as I am.

"I come home early from Branson, and I'm greeted with a blindfold. It was a strange reception, I have to admit," he replies with another pull at the fabric over his face.

"Trust me; I missed you," I say, holding my hand out to him. "Now, take my hand so I can show you your surprise."

He stretches his arm out and puts his palm against mine, the gentle touch I have grown so accustomed to blooming in my stomach.

Or...it should be.

My eyebrows furrow when I realize I cannot feel his skin against mine. I see our hands clasped, fingers intertwining, but I feel nothing.

And yet, I do. I feel a coarse fabric scratching every inch of the exposed skin on my legs and arms, something cold and metal encircling my wrists, and the frigid air of a space that hasn't been occupied by anyone but me in quite some time.

Shaking my head, I focus on the room around me, and I fully understand that I am not with Julian. I'm not even standing up.

I'm shackled to a creaky metal bed with a bare mattress and no blanket, my head lying on top of a flat pillow that smells of mildew and hundred-year-old dust. I let my gaze travel around the room, and I realize it's padded, the room where patients who needed subduing or isolation would've occupied their time.

I know without recalling how I got here that I am in the basement of the Crescent Hotel. I can feel the connection between me and the building running through my veins.

But how? How can I be here and be able to—

"The Crescent? What are we doing here?"

Julian's voice interrupts my thoughts and that only puzzles me more. Where is he?

"You once wanted to know if we could tour it...officially...and I arranged that today. We are going to go on a private, self-guided tour of the entire Crescent Hotel. Every floor, without missing a single thing, even the morgue."

Luna. She's with Julian. Can't he tell it isn't me?

"Holy shit, Cam. This is amazing! You're amazing!" He leans over and gives me a swift kiss on the cheek that I can't feel; I can only watch and wonder what the hell is happening to me.

"You are," Luna says, wrapping her arm around his waist. "Let's go. We've got a lot to see tonight."

I yank against the shackles, but to no avail. I twist and writhe, trying to pull my hands through the metal rings, but I quickly abandon that when I see it is impossible and starts to hurt.

"Fuck!" I scream, my voice shattering the silence in the padded room, the sound echoing off the walls and bouncing around me.

In my mind's eye, I see Luna wince, and I realize she must be able to hear me too.

"Stop it, Luna. Whatever you're doing, please stop," I beg, and the smirk that crosses her face confirms my theory.

"Julian, where do you want to start?" she asks sweetly, copying my mannerisms in near perfection.

"Anywhere you want; I'm just glad to be here with you," he says and pushes a curl from her face.

My blood boils.

"I mean it, Luna. Leave him alone, or I will end you."

"Oh, I'm quivering with fear," she mutters, and Julian's eyebrows come together as he studies her face.

"What did you say?" he asks, cocking his head to the side.

For a moment, she freezes, then when she gets her bearings back, she replies, "Oh, never mind. Come on."

I try to get into her head again, but I hit a wall when I speak; she's closed the connection. I can still see and hear them, but she's not listening to me anymore. But I'm certain that's what she wants...to show me just enough to infuriate me.

My mind races as my eyes dart around the room, looking for something, anything to help me get out of these shackles. But there's nothing; the room is completely empty except for the bed I'm in. There's nothing to do except monitor what Luna is doing with Julian.

She's holding his hand and taking him through the hotel's twisting hallways and entering suites left and right. I can't stop looking at their hands clasped together between them, and I wonder how in the hell Julian doesn't realize that's not me. Can't he feel that's not the hand he's been holding for weeks now?

The air in the room seems to get colder by the minute. Shivering, I look again for a blanket, hoping to kick something up over my bare legs. I shift my lower half to see but I do a double take when my gaze lands on my calf.

My birthmark.

It's gone.

Luna didn't just kidnap me.

She stole my body.