Stories From the Shadowlands

by Sarah Fine

  The fall was never worth it, always hurt more than he imagined it would… but it was easy to forget that when he was flying. And tonight, he would fly. He was practically jogging by the time he arrived at her building. He paid a quarter of the meat for a bag of white powder the dealer swore would take him to paradise, and traded a few slices of bread for some tequila sold by the guy sitting right next to the elevator. A few minutes later, he was rising to her apartment, which turned out to be the very top floor. A penthouse. Oh, this was going to be good. He had the best feeling about it. After this, he wouldn’t need anything else. This would be enough.

  The elevator doors slid open, revealing the most elegant and posh apartment he’d ever seen. Intricately woven tapestries hung on the walls, depicting lovers entwined. Thick rugs covered the floors, silencing his footfalls as he stepped off the elevator. “Rebecca?”

  “Cop?” she called playfully. She leaned out of a room near the sliding door to the balcony. Her blond hair was loose and flowing, and he was dying to sink his fingers into it and hold on tight as he crushed his lips to hers.

  He held up his gifts to her, the bottle and the baggy. “I take it you were expecting me.”

  “Smart boy.” She leaned against the doorframe, revealing miles of leg and an amazing body encased in the tightest of dresses. Jim almost groaned aloud.

  Her gaze lasered in on his canvas satchel. “What else do you have?”

  He looked down at it. “Just some bread and—”

  She had crossed the room a second later and was tugging at the bag. “Bread? Serious?”

  “Yeaaaah,” he said, watching her claw at the bag. She ripped it open, snatched three slices of bread, then sank to her knees as she stuffed it into her mouth, moaning with pleasure.

  “It’s real, isn’t it?” she mumbled between bites, crumbs falling from her lips. “Oh, God, it’s real.”

  “Sure. I have more, too. I can get more…” His voice faded to a whisper as she raked him with a hungry glare, like she was about to eat him next.

  He sincerely hoped that was exactly what she had planned.

  “You can get more whenever you want?” she asked as soon as she swallowed the last bite.

  “Of course,” he said, stepping closer to her. The way she was looking at him was worth a week of rations.

  She smiled, licking her lips as she stood up, brushing crumbs from her dress. “I’m so glad I met you. What’s your name, cop?”

  “Jim.”

  She smirked. “Cute. You’re so All-American, Jim. Anyone ever tell you that?”

  He frowned. “No. What does that mean?”

  She stood on her tiptoes. “It doesn’t matter.”

  And it didn’t. She took the tequila from his hands, unscrewed the cap, and pressed it to his lips. He took a long drink, then watched in a daze as she did the same. Then her lips were on his and he was exactly where he wanted to be. The gnawing in his gut disappeared completely as he took her in his arms. He pulled her close and let it all go, already soaring high, ready to forget his own name and everything else. Everything except sensation.

  “Beck, save some for me.”

  Jim jerked his head up to see the dark-haired lookout from the alleyway stroll out of Rebecca’s bedroom, wearing… almost nothing. Her filmy, sheer dress floated around her thighs as she sauntered over to him. Oh, hell.

  Rebecca’s hand was curled around the back of Jim’s neck, still holding him close. “When I’m done, Amy,” she said sharply.

  Amy rolled her eyes. “You’re so traditional.”

  Jim stepped back, his training as a Guard slowly snapping back into place amidst the haze of alcohol and horniness. “You ladies know each other.” They looked at him like he truly was an idiot, and he dimly realized they might not be wrong. “What’s going on?”

  “Sit down, Jim. We have a proposal for you.”

  He took a step backward toward the door. “I saved you,” he said, pointing at Rebecca. “You were in trouble.”

  “In a manner of speaking,” she said, putting a hand to her stomach as it growled.

  Jim blinked, then squinted at the floor. A moment ago, he could have sworn it looked like cracked and dirty cement, but now it was plushly carpeted again. “The guys in the alley, they—”

  “Work for me,” said Amy cheerfully. “Lots of people do. And now you can, too. I’ve been needing a Guard. You have access to things I want.”

  Jim rubbed his eyes and looked at Amy’s face. Cream skin, red lips. But for a fraction of a second he could have sworn…

  “Do you need to sit down, baby?” Rebecca asked, snaking her arm around his waist. “You look like you need another drink.”

  She tilted the bottle for him again, and he closed his eyes and drank out of sheer need, out of raw hunger. Because he didn’t really want to think about things right now. And he certainly didn’t want to see the things he was seeing. Just now, Amy had looked at him with yellowed, bloodshot eyes, the solid black irises like twin portals into hell.

  As his ears started to ring, he heard Amy laughing. “My God, look at him. He looks like he never made it out of high school. Poor baby died so young! They must have been desperate when they made him a Guard.”

  He sank onto the couch, promising himself he’d sit here only until his head cleared. He took another drink, even though that probably wouldn’t help. At least it was familiar.

  “He’s a good fighter,” Rebecca argued. “He kicked Kyle’s ass earlier.”

  Amy’s hands closed over his shoulders, and he flinched away as her dirty, jagged nails scraped against his shirt. But when he looked again, they were neatly painted, a vibrant red. He shot to his feet. “I need to get back.”

  With surprising strength, Amy pulled back, causing him to fall onto the couch. Rebecca straddled him a moment later. “You can’t leave,” she said. “We need you.”

  She kissed him again, but this time her mouth was sour and rank, and he turned his head to get away from her. Her fingers curled into his hair, and she pressed her mouth to his ear. “What would your partner say if he saw you here? I think you’d be in trouble.”

  Jim froze.

  Rebecca’s warm tongue slid around the shell of his ear, drawing his muscles painfully tight, even as the alarm bells were sounding in his head. “He seemed like he was walking the straight and narrow. I’ve seen the type. He’d report you in a second. What do they do to Guards who break the rules, Jimmy?”

  She drew back and took his face in her hands. “Mmm. You are just. So. Cute. I could eat you.”

  The whole idea sounded a lot less appealing than it had earlier.

  Above him, Amy gave him a triumphant look. “I thought you might be the one for us. As soon as I saw you. We’ve been looking for an in with The Guard for a while now. All we need from you is information, kiddo.”

  “And bread,” Rebecca added.

  Amy sighed. “And bread, I guess.”

  “Information,” Jim said quietly.

  “Yeah. Patrol schedules and routes. Nothing big.”

  Through the boozy fog in his head, Jim searched for his words, his reason. Nothing big... but if they had patrol schedules and routes, they’d be able to avoid the Guards easily, or hide from them. Or pick them off, one by one. “I can’t—”

  Rebecca’s hands became hard, pulling at his hair painfully. “You can. And you will.”

  With a rough shove, he sent Rebecca tumbling backwards off his lap. She hit the carpet much harder than he would have thought, and screamed in pain. His eyes flew wide as the plush carpet beneath her flickered and faded, showing him that cracked, chipped concrete again. His gaze darted around the room as the tapestries bled, becoming splotches on the wall. “No, no, I have to leave.”

  Amy frowned. “Well, now you’re fucked, Jim. And not in a fun way. Niko!”

  The sliding door to the balcony opened, and a massive guy lumbered into the room. He had full sleeve tattoos, demons and angels and girls with huge—“I
told you he wouldn’t go down easy. You overestimate your charms,” he rumbled.

  Amy stuck her tongue out at him. “He’s just a panicked kid.”

  “I’m not a kid,” Jim mumbled, fighting the alcohol oozing through his veins. He could have sworn he left childhood behind years ago.

  Niko chuckled, revealing a row of gold teeth, each with a diamond pressed into the center, beautiful and hideous at the same time. “Jim, take another drink. Snort some of that powder you’re clutching in your fist. Relax. Because your chances of staying out of this have just faded to zero.”

  Which was when the elevator door slid open, and Bomani stepped into the room.

  Chapter Four

  Bomani’s dark irises floated in the white sea of his eyeballs as he took in the scene. Jim sat frozen in place, one hand clutching a bag full of white powder, the other latched on to the neck of the tequila bottle. Amy’s hands were curled over his shoulders, and Rebecca had edged closer, so now she was on her knees between his legs.

  Bomani’s hand traveled slowly to his baton as his brows lowered into a fierce scowl. In his other hand, he held a crumpled piece of paper. Rebecca’s address. It must have fallen from Jim’s pocket as he made his escape from the Station. And now he was busted. He opened his suddenly cotton-dry mouth to try to make some excuse, but Amy beat him to the punch.

  “Hello there,” she said in a seductive purr. “Want to join us?”

  Bomani grimaced, and his eyes landed on Jim. “Young brother, get up and come with me. You shouldn’t be here.”

  Rebecca’s hands slid over Jim’s thighs, causing his toes to curl even as his heart slammed desperately against the wall of his chest. “He’s exactly where he should be.”

  The older Guard strode further into the room, his expression hardening. “You know nothing about where he should be. You only want things from him.”

  Amy’s fingers stroked down Jim’s face. “You want things from him, too. The only difference is that we’ll make him feel good. We can give him what he wants.”

  Bomani winced with disgust. “But you can’t give him what he needs. Jim, get up. Get up now and come with me.”

  From behind Jim came the soft hiss of a blade leaving a sheath. Niko. Jim abruptly got to his feet.

  Bomani gave Jim a small, hopeful smile. He offered his hand, like one might do for a small child. “Yes, that’s it. Come.” He took a step backward toward the now-closed elevator door, his gaze darting over to where Niko stood holding a glinting, curved blade in his hand.

  Rebecca sat back on her knees, her hands still skimming up and down Jim’s thighs, a contemptuous smirk on her face. “And if he does, what are you going to do with him? You’re going to make sure he gets punished, aren’t you?”

  Jim and Bomani locked eyes, and that was all it took to confirm Jim’s fears. “You’re going to tell the Captain.”

  “It is for your own good. You need help.”

  “I don’t need your help, Bomani. I need you to leave me alone. I’m not on duty right now, and neither are you.”

  Bomani’s mouth tightened. “My duty to you does not come in shifts.”

  Jim tossed the baggy and the bottle onto the couch. The tequila splashed over the cushions, which immediately transformed from silky-perfect to stained and tattered. Jim rubbed his eyes until his vision righted itself. “So don’t get me in trouble. That’s the last thing I need.”

  Bomani shook his head. “This is not about getting you in trouble. I’m trying to help you.”

  “I didn’t ask for your help,” Jim snapped.

  “You didn’t have to. Your need is written all over you. I’ve been through this, young brother. I know how it goes. You must listen to me.”

  “Why should he listen to you?” challenged Niko, absently waving his knife in front of him. “You don’t have any authority here, Guard. No one’s hurting anyone. Yet.”

  Bomani drew himself up. “I did not come here to stop you from engaging in your pathetic vices.”

  “Then leave.” Amy stalked around the couch, her willowy form wavering as she crossed a patch of white-bright sunlight lasering through the window, revealing the knobby bumps of her spine, the skeletal ridges of her ribs, and mottled flesh stretched tightly across the sharp bones of her face. But as soon as she stepped out of the beam of light, she was back to normal. Beautiful.

  But that wasn’t the way Bomani was looking at her. He drew his baton. “I will not leave without my fellow Guard.” His dark eyes met Jim’s once again, and his voice softened. “You must come with me, Jim. We can talk back at the Station.”

  Jim saw right through the nice act. “With the Captain, am I right? Did you get the Quiet Chamber prepped and ready before you left?” The sickly ooze of frustration dripped through his veins, crystallizing as soon as it reached his brain. Bomani was such a freaking tattle. He thought he knew what was best for everyone. He treated Jim like a stupid child. “You have no idea how that place feels to me. I’m not going in there again. It does nothing for me except hurt.”

  If he went with Bomani, he’d be locked up in the Quiet Chamber for ages. Probably long enough to go crazy, long enough to claw his own eyes out and peel his skin off just to try to escape from the silence. The pain would be terrible, unbearable. He couldn’t withstand it. He would lose himself. But how could he defy Bomani, a senior Guard? He’d never be able to hide this. As soon as Bomani had stepped into the room, Jim’s chances of keeping this from the Captain had melted away.

  “You are wrong, Jim. About many things.” Bomani’s fingers stretched behind him, groping for the elevator button while he kept his eyes on Niko and Amy. “And you will come with me now, or I will force you to.”

  The knife zinged across the room, burying itself in Bomani’s shoulder. Niko smiled at the agonized gasp that came from Bomani as the Guard staggered back against the wall.

  Rebecca jumped to her feet and put her arm around Jim’s waist. “Don’t worry, baby. We won’t let him get you in trouble.”

  “But—” This was wrong. All of it was wrong. Jim’s thoughts whirred, trying to map his escape route, but every path was blocked. Niko had just crossed a major line—he’d attacked a Guard. Once the rest of them heard about this, there would be a platoon at Niko’s door, and as big as he was, he was dwarfed by the inhuman Guards. He had to know that. Was Niko willing to die—again? That was something most residents of the city avoided at all costs, because it meant they had to leave all their collected possessions for others to claim. When you died and came through the Thieves’ Gates again, you had to start over with nothing. So be it, though. Niko had made his choice. Jim drew his baton and shoved Rebecca away.

  Only to be paralyzed by his thoughts a moment later. Thoughts he tried to shake off. But they were like taffy, sticking to his limbs, tying him down. If he and Bomani got out of this, the first thing that would happen is that Jim would be dumped in the Quiet Chamber. And after that… who knew. He might be confined to his room during his off hours, forbidden to go out in the city alone. Just as Jim had been granted some freedom, Bomani was poised to take it all away.

  From across the room, Bomani cried out as he yanked the knife from his shoulder and drew his baton. Niko walked toward him slowly, a predatory smile on his face. “Did you think I would be afraid of you, Guard?”

  “You should be,” said Bomani, pointing his baton at Niko. His jaw was iron, ridged with tension and pain. “I am not the only Guard in this room.” His eyes met Jim’s, expecting support. Jim was silent.

  Deep, growling laughter rolled from Niko’s throat. “I’ll take it under advisement.” One of his enormous fists swung forward quickly, but Bomani ducked with surprising speed, spinning under the man’s outstretched arm and slamming his baton into Niko’s ribs.Niko let out a huff of surprise, then tried to grab Bomani in a headlock, but the smaller man slipped through his grasp and cracked his baton over Niko’s back, knocking him into the elevator doors. Bomani gave Jim a sidelong glance, pro
bably wondering why Jim wasn’t rushing to his aid, but it lasted only a second before Niko’s shoulders rammed into Bomani’s chest, sending the two of them to the floor.

  Jim stared as the two men grappled, frozen in place. He should be helping Bomani. That was his duty. But if he did, the next stop would be the Quiet Chamber.

  No matter what he did, he was fucked.

  Bomani rolled to his feet and pressed his attack, his face a mask of concentration, marred only by the agony that laced his features. His left arm was a useless deadweight at his side, and blood soaked his sleeve. As Niko lumbered up, Bomani lunged forward. But Niko caught Bomani’s baton as it sliced through the air, halting it a few inches from his face. He brought his knee up sharply, doubling Bomani over, driving all the air from his lungs.

  “Hey!” shouted Jim, finally ungluing his feet. “That’s enough.” Which was a total understatement. He’d probably gotten himself in more trouble—Bomani would tell the Captain that Jim had hesitated to help, that he hadn’t done his duty. Even as he walked forward, preparing to engage Niko, he regretted it. And hated himself for regretting it. Not enough to kill the feelings of resentment toward Bomani, though.

  Niko turned to Jim, looking completely relaxed. “You might want to rethink this, Jimmy. I like you. We could do a lot together. And I can get you things you want.”

  Rebecca and Amy’s hands were all over him in the next second, fiddling with his belt, untucking his shirt, sliding along his bare skin. It was the first and last thing he wanted. He opened his mouth, but got stuck again, not sure whether to urge them on or tell them to stop. Dark and light, they stood on either side of him, promising to do anything he wanted, to let him do anything he wanted to them. Their sweet, heady scents curled around him. He squinted at them, trying to figure out which version of them was real, but all he saw was smooth skin and red lips and the guarantee of everything he desired. This was everything he wanted.