“You look like the weather,” she told me without giving me a moment to put on a brave face.
“I feel like the weather.” A glance at my gray shirt, black pants, and boots was enough to tell me she was right. They weren’t exactly my mourning clothes. My closet was full of gray and black, so except for those few who knew what had happened, nobody could suspect someone had died in my family.
I gave Jo a look that was supposed to be cheerful but couldn’t find it in me as I recognized the tired paleness on her face.
“You alright?” I asked, shoving aside my own sorrow.
Jo nodded. “Didn’t sleep well, that’s all.” She gestured at the building at the other end of the yard, as much enthusiasm on her face as I felt at the thought of joining Avery and her minions for biology, but I got to my feet regardless, ready to suck it up. Just another day. That was what it was. Even without Leon by my side functioning as my shield against Avery’s evil eye, I would survive.
He hadn’t left my side for the past weeks since the funeral except for the nights where—after that initial night following Gran’s death—he had instructed me to ping him the second something felt wrong. I didn’t really understand what he meant by something felt wrong. Everything felt wrong, knowing what he had shared with me, having seen what I had seen. So I didn’t disturb his nights even when, most of them, I didn’t sleep as soundly as I used to.
As I picked up my bag, talking to Jo, who had already started walking, one of the figures moving in the fog slowed and stopped right in front of the window.
I caught the dark shape from the corner of my eye as I was about to turn and follow Jo into the hallway when I noticed the familiar face and the hard, gray eyes staring right at me.
My fingers clasped my bag tightly to my chest in reflex as I took in the features that couldn’t possibly be from this earth.
And he … he stared back at me through the window, the Shadowbringer, his pale features and sleek, dark hair reminding me of a black and white movie, the same questions filling his gaze as he tilted his head, black strands shifting on his forehead. He pursed his lips.
“You coming?” Jo called from the door, oblivious that I had just seen a ghost.
I nodded absently, her voice little more than an echo as the boy raised a long-fingered hand and waved it once in greeting.
My head jerked sideways in response, checking to see if there was someone else behind me he meant, but there was no one.
When I turned back to the window, the boy had disappeared.
My heart, however, was racing at the confirmation that I hadn’t imagined him there at the nursing home. Or at the graveyard or the grocery store. And that Leon was right, that the Shadowbringer would come for me.
Loosing a stuck breath, I turned and stalked from the cafeteria, hands sweaty and pulse racing.
Where was Leon today? I had no idea what to actually do, how to prevent the Shadowbringer from getting me. Leon hadn’t yet shared the specifics of how I could protect myself. Just that as long as I was with him, the Shadowbringer had no power over me—whatever that meant.
So I focused on breathing in and out slowly, eyes darting toward the doors to the yard as soon as I entered the hallway, putting almost as much effort into appearing calm.
Nothing. No sign of the Shadowbringer. Just the usual stream of bored-faced students as they made their way to classes, their books under their arms.
Maybe I was seeing things after all. Maybe what had happened at the nursing home was haunting me during my days the same way it did in my dreams.
I found Jo by the lockers, waiting for me to catch up before she started walking again.
“Everything okay?” She handed me a book she had borrowed from the stack in her arms as we turned into the corridor that led us to the biology labs.
I nodded and shouldered the door open, ready to endure Avery and her despising glares—anything to distract myself from the gray eyes that had stared at me through the window—when Leon joined us, one hand reaching over my head to hold the door.
“Where were you?” I whispered as he squeezed into the classroom with me.
I hated that it sounded like an accusation. Leon wasn’t my bodyguard. He had a life of his own. Even when his family seemed to have been watching over mine for decades or longer.
He didn’t answer, letting Jo pass before he followed into the room and slumped into the chair beside me.
When I glanced over at Jo, who had sat down in her usual spot by the window as far as possible from Avery, she gave me a look that reminded me of what she had said about Leon monopolizing me. I gave her an apologetic smile and wished that, for once, there was nothing to worry about but Avery McMillan, who with her gossip, her glares, and mocking had made herself the undoubted queen of high school.
When I returned my gaze to Leon, he frowned.
“Unimportant,” he muttered under his breath. “What’s important is that I am here now.”
I gave him a look that was supposed to make him squirm in his seat.
All I got was a soft chuckle and a light nudge from his elbow before he turned to the front and pinned his attention on the teacher, who was explaining the importance of certain cells in the human body. Unsurprisingly, my focus didn’t suffice for memorizing anything the man said.
I spent the hour pondering whether I should invite Leon to stay the night—just in case the Shadowbringer returned—and then dismissed the idea at the thought of what that invitation could mean for either of us.
As if Leon was listening to my thoughts, he turned and raised an eyebrow. I shook my head—more to myself—and glanced at Jo, who was taking notes, her face paler than usual.
When the bell finally sounded through the room like a tortured, metal cat, I got out of my chair and joined my friend by the window.
“I was thinking—” I said, my eyes on Leon, who was cocking his head at my abandonment and seemed to be debating whether or not he was supposed to join us.
When I didn’t continue, Jo said, “I am glad you were, honestly.” She grinned. “It does help.”
I detached my gaze from Leon’s coffee eyes and faced her, taking a deep breath to shake the shock from this morning. “I was thinking maybe we should have a movie night.”
She nodded eagerly. “We haven’t done that in forever.”
True. And it would help me get my mind off of things.
“Tonight?” she asked, gathering her books before we started walking.
Again, I nodded. “We could stream a film or watch a series until we fall asleep,” I suggested. “I’m sure Mom won’t mind.”
I was certain she wouldn’t. She had been telling me that it was okay to continue living my life after Gran’s death. That death wasn’t the end of everything … just a new beginning. A different sort of life. Those were the moments when I wondered if Mom, after all, did know about the secret world that Leon lived in. The world that Gran had been a part of. The world that I now feared on a daily basis—minutely, to be honest.
“Great!” Jo hooked her arm into mine as we crossed the threshold, her steps less bouncy than usual even if her voice was convincing.
As we crossed the yard, I realized the temperature had dropped further, making me pull my collar more tightly around my neck. Beside me, Jo did the same.
“Isn’t this sweet,” Avery’s voice filtered through the lingering fog. I didn’t turn to look at her but kept walking toward the English classroom, Jo doing the same. “You make a great couple, the two of you.” Her tone was almost poisonously sugary.
Jo shot me a look that meant not to react to Avery’s words … or to the laughter of her minions.
When neither of us reacted, the Queen of Glyndon High sped past us in a graceful gait and planted herself in my path, her pink lips pouting. “And there I thought you were already taken,” she said with fake concern. “Or … or is it that …” She glanced at Jo again then around the yard, looking for something. “Or is it that Leon finally g
ot bored with you?”
Her words stabbed me in the gut. I knew her teasing. Knew her mocking. She had nothing over me but the fact that Glyndon High’s most handsome boy spent every spare minute with me … and that it seemed to be an impossibility in her shallow mind.
Still, her words hurt. They catered to that tiny voice in my head that had been attempting to verbalize to me the fear that Leon wasn’t with me out of free will but because it was his task as a Milliari and a Lightbringer.
I shook my head at myself.
Avery seemed to understand it as an answer to her question.
“So where is he?” she prompted as if to prove I was lying.
I shook my head again. This time at her.
“None of your business, is it?” I bit. “It’s not as if he would ever deign to spend a minute with you.”
I could see all of the color that wasn’t makeup leave her face. Beside me, Jo chuckled and tugged on my arm.
Never, since my first day at Glyndon High, had I spoken up against Avery. Never had I found the words to make her shut up. Today, for the first time, I had rendered her speechless with a response so simple that I could have thought of it earlier.
And by the look on her face, I knew it would cost me.
Chapter Thirteen
Leon didn’t join me for lunch that day, or for the walk home from school.
Maybe Avery was right after all. Maybe Leon had lost interest now that I wasn’t the same friend any longer but an object to be protected from a Shadowbringer ready to steal my soul. However that worked.
At least, I wouldn’t be alone tonight even if having Jo over might put her in more danger than was good for anyone to be in.
Mom was still at work when the doorbell rang hours later, and Jo greeted me with a box of sushi and a tray of pastries. “Ready?” She beamed, the paleness from earlier all gone.
I waved her into the house, picking up dishes from the kitchen on the way to the living room.
When I joined Jo on the couch, she was resting her head against the purple cushions and closed her eyes.
“It’s the weather,” she said weakly and gestured in the air as if that was supposed to explain something.
I didn’t respond other than getting back to my feet to grab a glass of water for her.
Jo took it gratefully and smiled after a deep drink. “Thank you.”
She set down the glass and picked up the remote control. It didn’t take long for us to decide on a rerun of Vampire Diaries, and we were back in the pattern of rooting for the two brothers while we kept wondering why Elena didn’t take more control in her own life.
And it didn’t take me long to realize that I myself wasn’t exactly doing anything to improve my situation. Even if I hadn’t been attacked, there was a Shadowbringer out there, ready to take my soul, and my protector had vanished without explanation.
Shame overcame me while I was still marveling at the supernatural creatures in the show. As charming and intriguing as they were onscreen, seeing something paranormal happen in real life was a quite different thing. It scared the hell out of me. I bit my tongue at the thought. Then fear might be something good if that meant hell couldn’t root in me.
While I was still in thoughts, Jo’s comments on the vampires’ haircuts ebbed, and eventually, her head sagged against my shoulder, her breathing deep and even.
Gently, I slid my hands under her neck and laid her down on the couch, grabbing a blanket from the backrest to tuck her in. Then, I got to my feet and put away the leftovers from dinner, leaned against the kitchen counter, and closed my eyes for a minute.
The buzzing of my phone tore me out of my moment of peace.
“I’ve got everything under control,” Leon’s text appeared on the screen. Plus the smug emoji.
For a second, I smiled at the screen, but then I realized that his words meant that there was a situation to be controlled and that he might be in danger because of me.
“What is going on?” I demanded, my fingers flying over the keyboard.
“Brightening some shadowy corners,” he responded within seconds.
His words, however, made me none the wiser.
“Where are you?” I finally dared ask, and tension grabbed me as the display turned dark and didn’t light up from a new message.
I pulled open the fridge and plopped a leftover sushi roll into my mouth to pass the time until he would reply.
“You ordered my favorite,” he texted, and I reeled around, facing the window and staring out into the darkness.
His face was staring back at me from the driveway.
My hand flipped to my throat in reflex at the sight of him. He lifted one hand to wave and, with the other, fumbled with his phone.
Mine buzzed in my hand.
“May I come in?” Outside, he lifted both shoulders in question.
It took me a moment to breathe normally before I was able to nod.
A soft knock on the door sounded almost the same second Leon started walking—and blurred away from the spot.
My heart stuttered. How was this even possible?
As I made my way from the kitchen, goosebumps rose on my skin in time with a shiver, a draft of chill air arriving long before I opened the door.
“Hi—” Leon’s smile dropped as he studied my face, looking as if I were a ghost.
“What’s wrong?” I used to be able to read Leon’s face, his eyes, the tone of his soft voice. Now, everything he said, every look, every twist of his lips was an enigma.
“You…” he whispered as if unaware of the meaning of what he was saying.
And I … I wasn’t certain whether I should be irritated at his words or simply be amazed that I had no idea who my best friend was.
My hand twitched, threatening to shut the door in his face, but his palm was against the wood before I could make a decision and really try. He pursed his lips and took a step closer, studying me with warmth in his eyes.
“You are not in your solid form, Laney,” he explained in a murmur, face changing as he let his hand slide over the door right onto my palm. And before I understood what he was saying, what he was doing, he stepped past me, pulling my hands with him off the door and shutting the latter behind him.
“What do you mean, not in my solid form?” I prompted, almost forgetting that Jo was still sleeping in the living room.
Leon gestured at the kitchen. “Let’s talk there,” he suggested and tugged me along, his fingers firm and gentle around mine, evoking a sensation so different from what I was used to.
He leaned against the counter where I had been standing a minute before and observed me from under white-blond strands of hair, his eyes more intense than even the night after Gran’s death.
“I don’t know if you have realized, Laney”—he lifted a hand, weaving it in the air as if to prove a point—“but you are not corporeal right now. If someone comes inside the kitchen at this moment, they won’t see a single soul in here.” He chuckled at his joke.
I, however, didn’t find it funny at all. “What?” I checked, eyeing down the front of my body, whether I was still there, still visible, or if I had dissolved into something more ethereal—and was relieved to find all my limbs in place. Then I looked at him more closely, taking a step toward him. “How is this possible?”
Leon looked the same as he had in the nursing home, the same as he always did. Only now, when I studied his features, his eyes, his entire body, he seemed to have a subdued glow that normally wasn’t there. Before he could answer, I said, “You are invisible, too, aren’t you?”
He only nodded then lifted his chin as if to tell me this wasn’t about him.
“What did you do to end up in your ethereal form?” he wanted to know.
I didn’t know if I should laugh or cry as I realized that this was real. That what had happened at the nursing home wasn’t a bad dream.
“Take a breath, Laney,” he ordered, his tone still gentle, but with so much authority that I si
mply inhaled deeply and exhaled before I took another step toward him.
“You are becoming one of us … a Lightbringer,” he said what I was sure was supposed to sound like something to look forward to.
Somehow, I couldn’t get myself to find enthusiasm. On the contrary. Panic filled me, the room suddenly too small, the air too heavy, as I wondered how I had involuntarily switched into a shape that disguised me from the rest of the world. What if Jo had seen me disappear? What if my mother walked in now? Would she be able to see me? To hear me?
And then … even worse than that fear … what if I didn’t manage to return to my normal form?
My chest constricted at the thought, and I started coughing uncontrollably, suddenly no longer able to get enough air—or the right kind of air.
“What’s happening?” I ground out between coughs, hands at my throat.
“I don’t know.” Leon was beside me in an instant, one palm rubbing across my back and shoulders while, with his other hand, he steadied me enough to help me into a chair at the table at the center of the room. His voice was calm though his features betrayed his rising panic as he crouched down in front of me, murmuring words of reassurance.
“You’ll be fine,” he kept repeating, and I could tell by the look on his face that he had no idea whether or not his words were the truth.
There was a tug on the center of my chest that beckoned me to get back to my feet and walk out of the room. It was so overwhelmingly strong that, for a moment, I forgot that I was hardly able to breathe. I struggled into an upright position, ignoring Leon’s demand to know what I was doing—I had no idea what it was that I was trying to achieve. All I knew was that something was calling to me, and I had to answer.
As I sent one shaky leg before the other, Leon stayed by my side, his arm around my waist holding half my weight. Every tiny step I dragged myself forward the air came a bit more easily, making laughing fits ebb into shallow gasps … into labored breaths … until I crossed the threshold to the living room and the string pulling my chest tighter and forcing me forward loosed as my gaze fell on the sleeping shape of my friend Jo. Her breathing was even, undisturbed by the noise of my struggle for air, of my feet sliding over the wooden floor, Leon’s muttered words of relief as my breathing became easier. Of course. For even if she was looking right at us, she wouldn’t be able to see us. We were invisible, not corporeal. Not human in the sense she was.
Torn: A young adult paranormal romance (Breath of Fate Book 1) Page 7