Camera Obscura (A Novel of Shadows Book 1)

by Christina Quinn

  “I always imagined the inside of Nate’s head to be weird. One half full of kittens, puppies, and layer cake while the other is nothing but torture, weapons, and death—with a huge metal reinforced wall between the two halves.”

  “Sounds scary.”

  “I guess, but that’s just who Nate is…with his extreme baking.”

  “Sounds like you have a friend.”

  “Nah, he’s just known me for a while.”

  “I’d like to know you.”

  “That’s nice. There won’t always be closets to hide in, Thorn. You clearly know how to use your powers, why don’t you?”

  He shrugged and sighed as he pulled in front of my building. “I’ve been told my entire life not to use them.”

  “When we were on that balcony I told you, there was only one rule, survive. I meant it. Hiding in a closet may seem like survival, but it isn’t. It just delays the inevitable. If Jonas had killed me, he would have gone back for you.” My phone rang. A picture of Nate sleeping popped up on the screen. I need to change that at some time. I pressed the phone to my ear. “Hey there.”

  “Don’t go home.” Smack. Even distorted through the phone, the sound of flesh hitting flesh made me cringe. He was clearly still working someone over.

  “Why?”

  “Because they’re waiting for you.”

  “Figures, can’t kill a bunch of random flunkies without some assholes wanting revenge.”

  “You do tend to inspire people.” He chuckled. “I’ll meet you at the bakery.”

  “Gotcha.” I ended the call and sent a text to Davy. “We’re not going to my place, we’re going to The Muffin Man. Do you know where it is?”

  “Yeah. They make the best scones.”

  “It’s Nate’s shop. I take it you’ve never actually been there?”

  “No, but I’ve seen the address on the boxes my maid would bring. 16713 Drury Avenue.” Of course.

  ****

  The Bakery looked adorable, with its pale blue and white awning hanging over the big store window full of delicious pastries and elaborately decorated wedding cakes. In the center of the glass was a blue and white decal with The Muffin Man written in cutesy curly letters. We pulled around back. Nate’s car was already there, the only thing separating it from the loaner was a gray racing stripe. Thorn parked and the moment I opened the door the sky opened up, and freezing rain poured down in fat drops which essentially assured that I was going to be soaked by the time I made it around the car and into the back door. Thorn didn’t get out until I did, and even then, he waited for me to clear the car before taking shelter under the slight recess. I banged on the door a few times, and it took a good minute, but Nate eventually appeared.

  In the tight black tank top, and without his glasses obscuring his face Nate looked like a caricature of an assassin, complete with the gun sticking out from the waistband of his tight black jeans. He was still in all business mode which was why he said nothing after opening the door.

  Thorn stared confused as I stepped into the little atrium and started up the stairs not waiting for Nate to say anything. I did glance back over my shoulder to him, though, his knuckles were split, and there was blood under his nails. Bruised flesh darkened his cheek under that dusting of near black stubble. I almost wanted to tease him, and then I thought back to my own more serious injuries—that would be in bad form.

  Also, I knew better than to bother Nate when he wasn’t wearing glasses. Mostly I didn’t feel like having my Nate stabbing count rise to three. I couldn’t help but wonder how many stabs it would take for him to stop considering me his friend. Maybe I could use it to foster a nice distant professional relationship between us.

  When I reached the top of the stairs, Nate shoved passed Thorn and unlocked the door. Inside everything was very neat and tidy, not unlike my place. The color scheme was very much in tune with that more human side of Nate. Everything seemed so warm and inviting, but at the same time, the emptiness had that sort of artificiality that suggested a demo home or store display more than an actual home. There was no lived-in quality.

  Nate ushered me into the bedroom and closed the door behind me. Without pausing he walked right to the dresser, took a pair of pajama pants and tank top out and tossed them to me.

  “What did you find out?” I asked as I stripped, Nate didn’t seem fazed in the slightest by my nudity. Instead, he seemed to be deep in thought as he stared at the floor with his brows furrowed.

  “Kitchen guy was paid to keep an eye on Castella’s. Red Scarf guy—whose name is Jimmy—was who initially contacted him about the job. They gave him a picture of Thornton Sterling IV, Logan Erikson, Ester Mahautiere and Libby SaintMartin and told him to call if any of them showed up. Jimmy told him that the Executioners were his now and that if he fucked up, we’d take him out. He was pretty much shitting himself when I showed up.” His voice was calm and void of emotion as he spoke. “His last contact with them was early this morning, they asked about you, said that they were going to make you pay.”

  “Jonas was helping them,” I added leaving my wet jeggings and tank top on the floor. My leather jacket, however, I folded and put on the bed.

  “Was?”

  “Mhm. Left him with his brains splattered on antique wallpaper inside of one of the old mansions on foster.” I tugged the shirt over my head.

  “You killed one of us?”

  “Not quite, but it was unavoidable. He shot himself rather than let me question him.” I wasn’t going tell him the truth. There was no doubt in my mind that Nate would have opened the door and shot Thorn. Though now technically he had done something that would call for his death. It was to save my life, and though I was still angry at him for what happened in the house on Foster I wasn’t going to hold too much of it against him—but that could have been the haze of the drugs. “But I wish that I had done it. Does that count?” I pulled the soft flannel pajama pants up and tied the drawstring.

  “Nope, you wish could kill a lot of people.”

  “Only when they give me an excuse.” I beamed at him. Chuckling, he turned around and opened his closet, taking down a thick fleece throw that he wrapped around my shoulders.

  “If they have someone on the inside, they can find more than your address, Rose.”

  “I know. I might be a little stoned right now, but I’m well aware of how much shit I’m in. I’ll tell Davy I’m going dark.” Just saying the words made me cringe. Going dark meant no contact with the Manor at all—which meant no help from Davy.

  “I have some burners in the closet, I’ll give you one.”

  “Thanks… for everything.”

  His face softened a bit, and he nodded. “Anything for you, Rose. You know that.”

  ****

  I slept on the couch while Thorn and Nate took turns waking me up every two hours—which sucks about as much as it’s necessary. The tension between Nate and Thorn continued to grow, and I might have cared a little more about it if I wasn’t medicinally numb. We spent two days at Nate’s place. While he ran down during the day and played baker, I slept and numbed my brain with television. At night Nate taught Thorn basic fighting techniques, though whenever he asked how a baker knew such things it was always the MMA cover. That frosty distance between them spoke volumes more than the words he used.

  On the third day, I woke up before Nate did which was odd because bakers keep the worst hours. I spent my time cleaning my guns as I thought about what was going on. I even had the fleeting idea of going to see the Van Ards, but I doubt they’d help. The only viable lead remaining was the IPX warehouse, and I hated warehouses.

  People can say what they will, but bad shit always happens in warehouses in seedy parts of town. It’s a cliché for a reason, it’s true. That’s not to say horrible things can’t happen in nice suburbs but chances are if you’re in a warehouse or shipping yard and there’s nothing but abandoned homes around for miles, chances are you’re going to end up murdered. I wasn’t exactl
y okay with the prospects of that happening either. My confidence in my abilities had nothing at all to do with this assessment and everything to do with the possibility that presented itself with the inevitability of being swarmed.

  “Why so grim?” Nate walked out of the bedroom, all smiles as he adjusted the glasses on his narrow nose.

  “Just thinking about IPX.”

  “You’re not alone, Rose. I know you like to envision yourself as some sort of lab experiment gone wrong, but you have people who care about you. Me, that asshole”—he gestured to Thorn before he made his way to the kitchen—“Fiona, Abby, Tabs, Davy…the list goes on. You don’t have to be able to reciprocate feelings exactly to have friends.”

  “Have you been reading Becky Erikson’s books again?”

  “They’re helpful. Maybe you should read one sometime. Congratulation’s You’re Dead, is a great one. I know we’re not actually dead, but we’re… reared to be dead inside.”

  “Don’t act like you aren’t.” I walked over to him and hopped up onto the counter next to the coffee maker.

  “I’m working on myself. We’re human, Rose. We might be nulls, but that doesn’t mean we should be void of all emotion. I’ve learned to separate out that part of myself. If I can do it so can others.”

  “I’m okay with who I am. It’s great that you want to be able to feel. That’s phenomenal. I applaud you on your progress toward being a better version of yourself. But that’s not what I want. I like me. I can do what needs to be done because of the distance I place between myself and those around me. If you got a contract on me could you carry it out? Because I wouldn’t blink, let alone think, before pulling the trigger on you.”

  “That’s a lie, and you know it. You’re lying to yourself.” He set a cup of coffee in front of me and put another pod in the coffee maker. “And that’s okay, too. If that’s what it takes for you to be comfortable in your own skin. But you’re not half as detached from everything as you like to think you are. You have a numb spot. You know what, I’ll give you that yours is larger than most. But it’s just one spot. It’s one portion of who you are, it isn’t the sum of you.” He snatched up his coffee and left slamming the door behind him.

  The rattling door held my attention for a time. He certainly woke up in a mood. I took a sip of my coffee as Thorn sat up and looked around squinting into the darkness. Our eyes locked across the room and I was struck by a thought that I should have had days ago. Davy could access Jonas’ ping log from the tracker all of us Shadows had in our necks. Slipping from the counter, I snagged my phone off the table and dialed Davy’s personal number.

  “Didn’t your Mother teach you any fucking manners?” Davy groaned.

  “Nope.”

  “Shit! Rosie! I was worried about you.”

  “I’m alive, I can’t tell you where I am.”

  “It’s for the best, I know. And since it’s you I also know it’s not a personal call; so what do you need?”

  “Jonas’ log. Do you think you could go through it and look for any IPX properties near where he pinged?”

  “Sure, that’s actually easy enough. I pulled them before they closed him out.”

  “How long is it going to take you.”

  “Fifteen minutes, give or take. The hard part is going to be getting through the sludge that is IPX’s syst—oh no.”

  “What?”

  “You’re not staying with Nate are you?”

  “Why?”

  “Because the building Nate’s Bakery’s in is owned by the IPX parent company. And Jonas pinged at 16709 Drury Avenue regularly.” My vision clouded, and it took a while for the tears to register as my stomach twisted in knots. “Are you still there?”

  “Y-yeah.” I wasn’t even angry, I was just hollow inside. “I need another loaner. You can have someone pick up the one at Nate’s.”

  “Another? I don’t have anything signed out to you.”

  I took a deep breath. “You didn’t find anything when you swept my place did you?”

  “No, I’m sorry. I know Nate’s close to you.”

  “Pfft, close to me? No one’s close to me.” I sniffed, wiping my nose and eyes. I stripped as I made my way to the laundry room where he had hung up my clothes. Nate’s smell made me want to wretch. After dressing and slipping my gun back into my holster, I sighed and checked the clip—still empty.

  “Rosie.”

  “Just shut up. I’ll…” I couldn’t even finish my thought I felt so ill and twisted inside. “I need a loaner on the corner of Drury and Levin.”

  “Alright, it should take fifteen for a drop-off. Will you be good ‘til then?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. I think. For all I know, he’s heard all of this.” I ran my fingers back through my hair and gazed out of the window at the rising sun.

  “Just get somewhere safe.”

  “I’ll—” I almost said where I was going, but I stopped myself. “Yeah.” I ended the call and set the phone in the center of the kitchen table. “We’re leaving.”

  “What?” Thorn rubbed his eyes and then did a double-take when he looked at me. I probably looked like a real winner with my eyes puffy from crying.

  “We’re leaving now. Dress in your own clothes and be as quiet as possible.” I neared the window and slowly opened it, peeking out at the fire escape. I hadn’t let everything really sink in yet, nor had I tried to piece everything together. Maybe I didn’t want to contend with the full extent of what was going on?

  My mind was full of questions as Thorn, and I made our way across the fire escape. People were starting to file into the building below, but no one looked up as we made our way onto the roof. The buildings on the block were old brick and had narrow alleys, so it was easy enough to jump between them until we reached the corner. I turned my brain off completely until I was seated behind the wheel of the car and no longer on Drury Avenue.

  Some part deep inside of me was hoping that Nate hadn’t betrayed me, but too many things didn’t make sense for me to stick around and find out. I stared at Thorn as we reached a light. It was funny to think he was the only person I could trust. I would have laughed if my stupidity wasn’t so pathetic.

  Twelve

  WE PULLED UP in front of Knit Happens right as Abby was opening up, I watched the lights in the old Victorian turn on one by one as Thorn and I made our way up the walk to the entrance. Inside everything was so warm and welcoming, part of me couldn’t help but to wonder if even Abby was in on it. Fucking conspiracies.

  “Wow, you look like hell.” Abby blinked at me the moment we entered.

  “I know. I have a whole list of stuff today.”

  “Alright, you’ve come to the right place.” Her phone started to ring as she walked into the back.

  “If that’s Nate, I’m not here.”

  She looked at her phone before turning to me. “What’s going on?”

  “Shadow stuff, I’m supposed to be off the grid.”

  “Gotcha.” She answered her phone. “Hiya, Sugar. No, I haven’t seen her. Is she in some sort of trouble? Really? Wow, that sounds serious. Alright, I’ll keep my eyes open.” She hung up and stuffed her phone back into her pocket. “He seems to think he’s the only one who can protect you from something.”

  “Shocking.” I sniffed. “I need a Desert Eagle and some fifty caliber rounds along with my nine mils.”

  “Sweetie, are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  “That’s an awful lot of firepower—even for you.”

  “Oh, I know.”

  “Alrightie, I’ll charge everything to the Manor.” She ducked behind the counter. “What finish do you want on the Desert Eagle?”

  “Matte?”

  “You’re no fun.” Abby pouted as I pulled an inner pants holster off one of the racks and set it down on the glass counter while Thorn loitered behind me like a kid going shopping with their mom. “Half the joy of owning a Desert Eagle is their unique look.”

 
“Not for me, I’m more interested in the massive exit wound.”

  “And that’s why I love you, doll face.” She but the boxes on the counter and passed a tablet with stylus toward me. I filled out the small form and signed it, pushing the tablet back to Abby. “And you’re now the proud owner of every gun enthusiasts wet dream.”

  “Thanks, Abby. You wouldn’t happen to have cell phones, would you?”

  “No problem. And yes, I do.” She dipped down and popped back up with a no-contract smartphone. “On the house because… well, you look like you need it.”

  “You have no clue.”

  “Oh, I can guess. And before I forget, up front I have something Fiona dropped off yesterday for you, since you didn’t show Saturday.”

  “I was recovering.” I pulled my jacket to the side a little and showed off the stitches in my shoulder.

  “Ouch. Well, feel better and as always—”

  “I know it’s a standing invitation.”

  “Mhm, now go kick some bad guy butt.”

  ****

  After leaving Knit Happens, I drove us to a nearby park and loaded both guns while Thorn activated the phone. On the console between us sat the paper file of the Van Ard disappearance. I didn’t want to touch it. I was worried about what I’d find in the pages. I didn’t want to consider what Nate might have done. Sighing, I tucked the now loaded Desert Eagle into the new holster. I then snatched the phone from Thorn and called Davy.

  “Hello?”

  “Find anything else?”

  “Mhm, Jonas visited a few other streets about as frequently as he did the Foster address, want me to text them to this number?”

  “Yeah. And—”

  “I’ll look into where Nate’s been pinging too.”

  “He called Abby, told her he was the only one who could protect me.”

  “Maybe he thinks he is? He had three days to kill you if he was going to.”

  “You’re right, but unfortunately I can’t chance it. There are too many questions for me to trust him.”

  “I know. Whenever anyone asks me how I’m doing, I’ve been too jumpy to answer them. And I don’t think Nate could kill you.”