“Take off your jacket and put this on.” I stripped the body and held the caterer’s vest out to him.
“Oh god.” He gasped, and I watched the horror pass over those pale eyes. I’d been what I was for so long that I had forgotten seeing a dead body could be traumatic, oops.
Novice Shadows were habituated to death within their first year in the order, so I had been numb to the sight of corpses since I was nine. Some might argue that it would distort our abilities to connect with people, but I functioned just fine—not as well as some but fine enough to school my inner sociopath most of the time…some of the time… occasionally.
“We don’t have time to for you to gasp and deal with this. Put on the vest. We have to leave now. Not ten minutes from now after you finish your hissy fit, now.” I threw the garment at him as the doors to the elevator opened. He nodded, took his cell phone out of his jacket and pulled on the vest. The glow from the screen was unmistakable. “And turn that off unless you want to end up like your family in there,” I snapped gesturing to the double doors that led to the ballroom. His face twisted but still he nodded, reluctantly tugging on the caterer’s vest.
“All of them?” He croaked, his eyes glistening with tears yet to be shed.
“Look, I’m sorry. I just…” I sighed, shaking my head as I stepped into the elevator, he followed me. “I’m sorry.” I pressed the button for the top floor.
“It’s—thank you.”
I blinked, that wasn’t the response I had expected at all. “You’re welcome?”
“I’d be dead if not for you.” He wiped his eyes and smiled weakly. I didn’t point out that at the beginning of the evening I’d intended for him to be dead because of me.
The doors opened into another kitchen, this one was smaller but more importantly, dark and empty. We made our way to the staff stairwell, once there I sat on the top step, and he joined me. I needed a minute to think, this evening had not gone the way I had hoped. It was in some odd nebulous area between bizarre and business as usual.
I took my phone out and dialed my Sybil, it was what we in the Order of Shadows called our handlers and tactical assistants. I hadn’t decided if I was going to tell him about Thorn being alive yet, but I had to check in.
“Rosie!” As always, my Sybil picked up right away, sounding as chipper and British as always.
“Davy, glad you’re happy to hear from me.”
“Why wouldn’t I be? I always get to have loads of fun when you call me. So, what is it this time? Hacking into the morgue’s data bank? Scrambling cell service for a six-block radius? Breaking into Google?”
“Worse.”
“Pentagon?”
“Think closer to home.”
“You want the full file?” His voice fell to the softest whisper.
“No! I want a picture of a little fluffy kitty playing with some string! Of course I want the full fucking file, Davy! I want to know why. I’ve watched this guy for months now, there’s been nothing and now—” He cut me off.
“Oh my fucking god.”
“What?”
“Two terrible things. I always have fun when you’re closing in on your guilty party.” The sarcasm was thick. “The first I’m sending now, and the second… I feel like I should ask if you’re okay.”
“The attack at the hotel’s already been reported?”
“Yeah, it just came through. Were you there?”
“No, but Iris Evans should have been.”
“On it. Stay safe, Rosie.”
“I always do.” I hung up and glanced at Thorn who was looking at his hands with a million-mile stare. I knew I should say something, but what I didn’t know.
What do you say to someone who just lost most of their family? I settled on patting his back. After a bit, I wrapped my arms around him, and he pressed his face to my shoulder. Somehow, I felt guilty for all of it, like I was responsible for everything that happened. Maybe I was. There was a possibility they executed the family because I waited.
“C’mon let’s get you somewhere safe.”
****
I took him to my apartment because I couldn’t think of anywhere else to go.
It was nice to be home, really home. The apartment of Iris Evans was not my apartment. The subtle makeup, red hair and fashion magazine subscriptions weren’t me—and neither were the heels. It was nice to play dress up, but after two months of pretending to be someone else it was nice to be me again.
I wanted Oreos. I wanted a fucking cheeseburger; did I mention that Iris Evans was a vegan?
“Just sit anywhere.” I gestured around the small one bedroom as I slipped from my constricting shoes. Wriggling my toes against the carpet, I purred happily at the sensation of the soft loops against my skin. After locking the door, I headed into the kitchen without pausing and opened the freezer. “Want anything? I have Oreos and pizza pockets.”
“I haven’t had Oreos since university.”
“Oreos it is. I don’t have milk or anything, but I have…” I opened the fridge and scrunched my nose at the emptiness broken by a half-filled case of something. “Hard cider,” I read the label as I held it out to him.
“Thanks.” He smiled weakly at me and for the first time in my life I got to see Sorcerer Eyes up close and personal under direct lighting.
At first glance, his irises were blue-gray, but if you stared at them long enough, you noticed that they were a pale shimmering silver, ringed with navy on the outside and inside. I almost wondered what those without powers thought about them, then I remembered they probably didn’t see them the same way I did.
“Do you glamor your eyes?” I asked making my way to the cupboard.
“Yeah, my mother told me it was for my protection.”
“And your hair?” I climbed onto the top of the counter and pulled myself to standing before taking the blue sealed package of cookies off the top shelf.
“The hair was never a problem; everyone assumes it’s a dye job.”
“I could see that—your roots are hella dark.” I tossed the blue package to him before jumping back down. “I can’t see the glamor because I’m a null, but when the light catches them well… It’s a pity the rest of the world can’t see that.”
“Are you hitting on me within hours of my family being murdered?” Oops. He didn’t seem upset by it. At least not as upset as I’d think someone really offended by my statement would have been.
“N-no, I was just making conversation”—about how fine your sexy ass is—“Sorry it was taken the wrong way.”
“Oh, I’m—” He shook his head. “I’m just in a weird spot right now.”
“Understandable.”
After plucking the cookies from his hand, I made my way into the Spartanesque living room. It had only a couch, coffee table and television in it. In short, Ikea looked more lived in.
It came from my training. When you’re groomed not to leave a trace behind that has an unfortunate tendency to seep into other aspects of your life as well. There were no paintings, pictures, or magazines. No idle clutter. Nothing. The sterile white of the walls and the odd beige of the carpet were allowed to shine through in all of their banal glory. It was a standard generic apartment.
It was odd that I lived by myself. The other Shadows lived in an old gothic manor that masqueraded as a private school in the middle of the city. I couldn’t live there. The moment I turned eighteen, I moved out. I didn’t like the level of surveillance that went on and whereas I wasn’t stupid enough to think that my apartment was bug-free it wasn’t even a tenth of what went on in that controlled insular community.
I flopped down on the couch and opened the package of Oreos. I took two and set the rest on the table. Thorn joined me almost immediately, taking a seat beside me and snatching up a handful of cookies. He nibbled on them tentatively as I took my tablet out of the drawer and connected to my secure server.
It was clear within moments of me opening the file Davy had sent that something
was up. I wasn’t certain what I had expected the full file to look like. I had never seen one before—though I knew of other executioners who had their Sybils hack them. The file I was sent, however, was hardly larger than what I was given; there was no mention of guilt or even of a crime. My stomach churned, and I set my cookies back in the tray.
“Fuck.” I gently put the tablet on the table really wishing I could have thrown it across the room without risking it breaking.
The implications were troubling, someone had decided for whatever reason that Thornton Sterling IV needed to die. It wasn’t that he had done anything considered illegal, the lack of anything in the file meant the Camera Umbra—the judge and jury of the preternatural community—had gotten together and concluded that for some arbitrary reason his life was void. Maybe Davy didn’t get the whole file.
“Are you alright?”
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” I turned and faced him with a weak smile.
“You look…startled. I think. I’m not used to being unable to read people.”
“Well, get used to it because we’ll be roomies for a while.”
“O-oh.”
“Yeah, you’re not going to be able to go back to that super posh lifestyle of yours for a bit.” I stood and stretched.
“So, people are just going to think I’m dead?”
“Nah. Tomorrow, on my way to work, we’ll post a video of you on some social media site saying you’re alive and you’re going to your cabin or some shit.”
“You know about the cabin?”
“Nope. I was just guessing. Crazy rich sons of billionaires tend to have things like cabins and villas.”
“Why do I get the feeling you don’t like me?”
“It’s not that.” I started walking toward the bedroom. “I just—I’m not good with people.”
“Is it because you’re a Shadow?”
“Nope. Even before I started my training, I was a little weird. It’s probably because I’m a minus null. When we’re children, we don’t feel people. It’s really hard to put into words. The closest thing I can think of is… I spent the first eleven years of my life wrapped in a big thick psychic blanket. So more or less I’m the monkey with metal mommy.”
“What?”
“There was a psychologist who did experiments on monkeys in the nineteen fifties. He put infant monkeys with surrogate mothers, one made of cloth and one made of wire. Both ended up supremely fucked up but the wire ones more so. My supreme lack of abilities made it impossible for me to bond with my parents or anyone during my formative years really.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Who needs attachment right?” I scoffed.
“Have you ever bonded with anyone?”
I snorted and rolled my eyes. “Nope,” I answered, slipping into the bedroom. “You can sleep on the bed. I’ll take the ottoman if you’re not comfortable with me sleeping next to you.” Stifling a yawn, I turned to find him lurking in the doorway behind me.
“That’s okay, I couldn’t put you out of your own bed.”
“I don’t have anything in the way of clothes to offer you.”
“It’s fine.”
Without thinking, I unzipped and wriggled out of my dress, tossing the sequined nightmare into the opened closet. I moaned as I was finally able to relax, the fabric was a bit stiff, and I had been in it for hours.
Behind me, Thorn sucked in a quick breath, and I turned around, flashing him a smirk. I knew how I looked, that’s not why I stripped, but I was well aware of the effect my body had on some. I had an ideal shape more or less from all of my training.
Oreo binges aside, going up against Vampires and Werebeasties had left me pretty fit. If not for my breasts and hips I could have fit into sample size clothes, but I had birthing hips and a balcony fit for Shakespeare—which meant buying clothing was an odd limbo between too loose and too tight. But when naked I pretty much commanded the room. Which was why Thorn was staring slack jawed like he wasn’t expecting my shape to come out of that dress. There was always the possibly he hadn’t contemplated it.
“What was that you said about losing all your family?” I added nonchalantly as I walked over to the dresser and pulled out a pair of pajama pants and a tank top.
“Maybe I’m just looking for a distraction?”
“You’ll have plenty of time for that tomorrow. I’m going to get you a job and introduce you to Davy’s sister.”
“What?”
“You need to be somewhere safe during the day, and I can’t have you around me at work.” I took off my bra, keeping my back to him.
“Work?”
“Yup, I work for a P.I. Firm and you’ll probably be washing dishes. Audrey will welcome the company, I think. Who knows you two might even hit it off?” I bent over and slipped off my thigh high stockings.
“Y-yeah,” he stammered.
My guess was he wasn’t actually listening to me, he was probably too busy trying to will me to turn around. I didn’t oblige him. If we did anything the sole purpose would be because he was trying to distract himself and I wasn’t anyone’s distraction—no matter how scrumptious their abs might have been.
I dressed and pulled off the wig. I placed the itch factory on its stand in the closet before fishing the bobby pins from my long dark hair with my other hand.
My mind was racing. If I had any hope of getting to the bottom of this thing, I was going to have to use every resource I had—and some of those I didn’t have the most stellar relationship with. But I was confident in my abilities to keep Thorn safe for a few years at least if it came to that.
It had worked for Audrey. I couldn’t bring myself to kill her. It wasn’t that I had a bleeding-heart moment, it was that I would have done the same thing were it an option. Someone had attempted to rape her while she was waiting for a train—she used her powers to make him let her go, step on the tracks and lie down with his head on the rail. They caught the whole thing on surveillance camera, and even the appearance of a sorceress using mind control is an automatic death sentence regardless of motive. I thought it was bullshit, so I broke protocol. The only person who knew I hadn’t killed her was Davy—and now Thorn, but something told me he wouldn’t squeal.
The sound of the bed settling drew my attention, and I found Thorn in nothing but boxers on my bed. He looked every bit as perfect as I had imagined, his torso lean and defined like he lived in the gym. His thighs were the same, and in the dim light you could see the muscles in his arms, chest, and stomach twitch and contract with every movement. Sweet fuck all, why does he have to be so hot?
Running my fingers back through my hair, I approached the bed and seriously contemplated going back on everything I said about not being a distraction. However, I was considerate enough to acknowledge the truth of the situation. Someone like me was the exact opposite of what he needed. I couldn’t give him that comfort he was really seeking, so I did the humane thing and slipped under the covers without a word. A few minutes passed, and he broke the silence.
“Could you hold me?” His voice was soft, vulnerable, and close to tears.
“Sure.” I scooted closer to him and wrapped my arms around him savoring the warmth his body offered. We fell asleep like that, me long after he did. He cried for a while, silently mourning his family in my arms as I pushed the guilt away like a six-year-old who refused to eat their broccoli.
Two
THE NEXT MORNING, I awoke to the delicious aroma of coffee. After sliding out of bed and zombie-ing to the kitchen, I found Thorn at the island reading a book. For a minute I gaped at him. I rarely had a guy stay over, let alone make me what was essentially my breakfast. Needless to say, it was surreal.
“I thought I should be a good guest and make breakfast, but you don’t have any food,” he exposited as I made my way to the black insulated carafe on the counter.
“Thank you,” I croaked, pouring myself a cup of coffee before loading it up with enough sugar and powd
ered creamer to give a rhinoceros diabetes. “We’ll stop at a thrift store and get you some clothes to wear. As much as I like looking at you mostly naked, I think polite society might disapprove.”
“So, you are attracted to me?” Damn it! This is what I get for opening my big mouth before coffee.
“Aren’t I supposed to be? Isn’t that why you clearly spend every waking moment of your life at a gym?”
“Only three days a week. What about you?”
“Occupational hazard.” With that, I left him and went to hide my shame in the bathroom while I made myself look like a person and not a swamp monster.
Twenty minutes later, I was showered, dressed, and ready to attempt to face the day. My choice of wardrobe was, more or less, standard issue for Shadows; black leather jacket, dark jeans and a simple top. Today’s shirt was long-sleeve, boat neck and black. It was a far cry from the skirts and blouses that I had lived in for the last two months. To top it off I wore steel toe boots and not heels. Though I secretly wished I could keep wearing the heels—it was nice to be able to see on top of things and not feel like a four-year-old while at the bank.
The only thing I did differently from the other Shadows was actually putting effort into my appearance. Most never wore makeup and never did their hair. I was guilty of doing that sometimes, but most of the time I put a few hot curlers in my hair and at least wore eyeliner and lipstick. It was easier to get people to let their guard down and tell you things they might not normally say if they think you’re attractive.
The morning was a busy one, I took Thorn shopping for clothes, made a mental note to get him a job washing dishes and bar backing at Castella’s—a bar and grille owned by a member of the local werewolf pack who owed me a favor. In time for lunch, we found ourselves at Audrey’s apartment.
Camera Obscura (A Novel of Shadows Book 1) Page 2