Shadow's Touch

by T. M. Hart

  Although overgrown with weeds, it was clear this had once been a grand setting. Beautiful wood stalls lined the space with a towering ceiling that arched above, and tall windows ran down each side of the structure. The glass panes were now covered with layers of dirt, but I could imagine how they would have let the sunlight pour through once upon a time.

  However, the stable was dark now, and I felt as though in a tomb. I didn't stay long, and I knew there was no need to. Just like everything else, this place had been forgotten long ago.

  As I exited the building, I looked towards the woods which surrounded the property. For a moment, I thought about exploring those as well, but the sun was setting. And with the onset of dusk, I began to feel ill at ease.

  I felt a need to return to my suite.

  Although void of life, there was evil here. It lurked somewhere in this manor, calling the abandoned mansion its home.

  It seemed to slumber during the day, hiding from the light. I felt protected during the daylight. But as night approached and shadows fell, I felt that protection begin to wane in the darkness.

  I had been there for such a negligible amount of time, but I already felt as if my appointed rooms were a sort of bastion. They were somehow safe and secured from the darkness which surrounded them. And so I called an end to the day's search.

  Returning to my suite, I stoked to life large fires in every room and set the chandeliers ablaze. Once the entire space was flickering with light, I found myself back in the sitting room. Uncertain. Uneasy.

  It seemed even with the warmth of the fires, I couldn’t shake the chill from outside. I grabbed a blanket from the settee and wrapped it around myself. Although my quarters glowed with light, I couldn’t help but think of all the empty darkness which surrounded me.

  I decided to check in with Killian.

  He had provided me with a satellite phone. I retrieved it and standing in front of the fire in the sitting room, I punched in Killian’s number.

  He answered on the first ring. "Violet—"

  "Hey, Kil."

  There was a moment of silence, and I thought perhaps the call had dropped. But before I had the chance to hang up, Killian finally replied.

  "ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!" he exploded. "You were supposed to check in with us two nights ago, after your arrival! We have not heard from you! We've been trying to call you every hour—for two days! We thought you were dead! And you finally pick up as if we're twelve-year-old girlfriends chatting after school?! How selfish are you, Violet? Do you ever stop to think about anyone else? Do you have any idea what a wreck your mother is?"

  I paused, caught off guard. I didn't know how to react or respond. After I remained silent, I heard Killian take a ragged breath. "Are you okay?" His voice was raw.

  "Yes," I told him. "I am." I took a few steps to stand closer to the fire. "Killian. I am so sorry. I didn't get any of the calls. I . . . You're right. You're absolutely right. I should have checked in—"

  "What is your status?" His voice had turned militant, and I sighed. I wanted to do my best to make amends, so I answered in kind.

  "I am at the Dark Manor. I was brought directly here and have remained here since. There have been no threats against me and I have been made comfortable."

  "Will I be able to contact you on this line again?"

  "It is working for my use, but I did not receive any of your calls."

  "Do you need to be extracted?"

  "No."

  "Are you rested?"

  Killian was now speaking code. We had agreed upon this question before I left. If the answer was 'yes' or 'no,' he would know that I could not speak freely–that my answers were being coerced.

  "My answers are not being forced or manipulated in any way. I am speaking to you alone."

  Killian let out a heavy breath. "Are you sure," he persisted.

  "I'm safe, Killian. I'm not being compelled to give answers. Something weird is going on here, but I'm not in danger."

  "What do you mean weird?"

  "The Dark Manor has been abandoned. It's empty. Apparently, the Shadows moved their court to London a long time ago. They have been operating amidst the mortals under the guise of a private corporation. The Dark Manor is no longer the seat of the court."

  Just talking about the dark, lifeless mansion made me shiver and I pulled the blanket tighter around my shoulders.

  "I seem to be the only occupant here. There is an old crone who brings my meals. She allegedly resides here, but I have yet to find evidence of that. I have also been told the Dark Prince inhabits this place, but again, I have yet to find any proof of that. I have yet to even meet him."

  I could hear Killian pacing across hardwood. I could picture him in his office at the Radiant Court. "I don't like this, Violet."

  "Look, Killian. I'm here. I'm doing this. I need you to trust me. I will let you know if anything goes wrong. I need you to focus on The Unit. How are operations going?"

  "Everything's fine." There was an edge to his voice.

  "What happened?" I asked, not believing him.

  "Violet, it doesn't matter. You left. It's not your concern anymore."

  "That's not fair," I snapped. "Stop trying to punish me. What happened?"

  "Two citizens were killed."

  I let out a breath. This had been happening more and more as of late.

  Killian didn't continue. "There's more, isn't there," I demanded.

  "I wish I didn't have to tell you this, Vi." Killian's voice softened. "It was Gwen and Daniel."

  I gripped the phone tighter, mentally warning myself not to squeeze so hard that it broke. I reminded myself to hold on to my energy. If I let my power flare in a fit of emotion, I would short the electronics in the phone.

  Gwen was a young woman around twenty. She was taking university courses at court where she also interned for the Office of Public Affairs. I would sometimes work with her there in an official capacity and had liked her from the start. She was kind and soft spoken, but also intelligent and determined. She’d had a bright future ahead of her.

  Since Killian was with me every day acting as my personal guard, he too had come to be well acquainted with her. But it was Gwen's little brother, Daniel, who he had grown quite fond of.

  Only twelve, Daniel would wait for Gwen after school. He would sit in the office doing homework. Occasionally Killian would sneak him outside and they would throw a football or kick around a soccer ball. Not having a family of his own, I think Killian felt that Daniel was like a little brother.

  "I'm so sorry." I managed to murmur.

  And although I was sorry for what had happened to Gwen and Daniel, and I was sorry for the loss of two innocent lives—what I was really sorry for was the fact that I had not been there to prevent their deaths.

  I didn't know the details of what had happened, but I was sure if I had been there, doing my duty, I would have stopped those responsible. I was the best in our unit and I had abandoned them.

  And for what? I was wasting time rummaging about in a haunted house chasing ghosts. This was probably what they wanted all along—to send me on a wild goose chase, effectively removing me from the Radiant Court and allowing these rogue attacks on innocent civilians.

  With guilt crawling over every inch of me, I told Killian, "I should have been there."

  I could hear the faint creak of wood on Killian's end of the line, and I imagined him sitting down. "You wouldn't have been able to stop this, Vi. You can't be everywhere at once. There was no way to predict where this would have happened, when, or to whom."

  "I never should have come here, Killian. You were right. I'm coming home."

  "I think you should stay." The words were begrudging but not hesitant.

  "What? Killian—"

  "We captured the Shadows responsible. We interrogated them through the night. Before they . . . expired, they admitted that it is the Shadow Prince who leads them."

  Killian let out a breath. "Violet, if you think you
can get some information on him without any risk to yourself . . . it could help."

  "I think I'm wasting time here, Kil. It's like I said, this place is abandoned. I need to be in London where the Shadows are actually holding court. I'll give it another day or two here, but I'm pretty sure it's a dead end."

  Already mentally gathering my belongings, I concluded, "I'll pack up and come home in a couple days. We can re-group and then make our way to London, we'll see what we can find there."

  "Wait. There's something else." The weariness in his voice was evident and I doubted Killian had been sleeping lately. "I went to see Wayland. There's an . . . illness. Right now there are only a few people affected by it and it's only on the periphery of the Radiant Domain, but immortals are getting sick.

  "Wayland said he has never seen anything like it. There's no explanation. I am going to talk to your mother about it tomorrow, and it's not an issue that is affecting life here at court. But I think you should stay away until this is resolved. Just to be safe.

  "I'm going to send you the encrypted coordinates and security code for the penthouse I have in New York. I think you should go there. Just until we get this cleared up. I'll have your mother arrange for an angel to pulse you there. But you'll need to get somewhere they can reach you. Wherever you are now, it is inaccessible to them."

  I shivered and sent a pulse of energy towards the fire, stoking it higher. "How do you know that?"

  Killian huffed. "When you didn't answer any of our calls, I tried to have you extracted immediately. You were impossible to find. Giddeon tried but couldn't get a read on you. So you'll need to get outside the boundaries of wherever you are for pickup. Giddeon will be able to pulse you to New York."

  I wasn't going to any goddamn penthouse in New York, but I also didn't want to get into it with Killian. Although I had heard about Wayland, I had never met him. Apparently, he had been somewhat of a mentor to Killian for a time.

  And I was sure he was a nice old man, but I was also sure he didn't know everything having spent most of his life living out in the desolate areas away from court life. Just because Wayland was confused about something, didn't mean there was cause for panic.

  Instead of committing to his plan, I simply said, "I'll take note of the info. I'll be in touch. And Killian?"

  "Yes, Violet?"

  "Get some rest." With that, I ended the call and tucked the phone in my pocket. I took a step towards the fire, feeling very cold. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to hold everything in, but it felt like I was failing.

  And that was when I felt him, there in the shadows behind me. The sitting room was large, and the firelight did not reach the very depths along the edge of the chamber. The perimeter was cast in darkness, but I could sense him in that darkness.

  I didn't turn towards him as I spoke. I wanted to keep my back to him, embarrassed that I had been caught in a vulnerable state, and I was not prepared to meet a gruesome face. Still, I braced myself for what might happen.

  "How long have you been watching me?" I asked the fire.

  His voice drifted over to me, silky and deep. "From the beginning."

  "Why haven't you introduced yourself?"

  "I apologize if I have been rude." He still did not approach. I could feel him along the fringe of the room, safe from the illumination of the firelight.

  I dug for courage and turned in his direction. As I did, the candles in the chandelier overhead were extinguished and the fires in each hearth dwindled. He was simply a dark shape in the shadows. I couldn't make out any distinguishing characteristics.

  Neither of us spoke just then and I began to feel unnerved. I realized that while I could not see him, he was able to see me. Although the room was now only lit with the dying fires, I stood amid that light and knew that my features were certainly definable. I fought the urge to hide and instead raised my chin a notch and straightened my spine. I would not let him see me as weak or insecure.

  "I am sorry," he said.

  "For what?" I asked.

  "I am making you uncomfortable. I will go." I could see his dark form begin to move, however instead of walking in a straight line for the door, he stayed to the periphery of the room, to the shadows.

  "Wait." I realized too late that it had been a plea rather than a command, and I regretted the show of weakness.

  Yet he stilled. I didn't know what I wanted from him, what I wanted to say or ask.

  I took a step towards him and then a second and a third. I didn't get any closer though. I could see, or maybe just sense him stiffen, and I knew our introduction was over. He completely faded into the darkness at that point and a moment later I heard the snick of the door as he closed it behind him.

  I was left alone in the room with the dying fire and the expanding darkness.

  And the Dark Prince had made his first mistake. Because by that simple visit, I was somehow able to get a lock on him. To sense him. Because of that innocent meeting . . . he would not be able to hide for long.

  I would come to find that deep dark hole, where he had buried himself away.

  Chapter 11

  I flung my hands out towards the oversized fireplaces at each end of the sitting room. Flames leapt from the hearths, clawing and crackling at the open air. I wanted light in the entire suite. I wanted to chase away any shadows.

  After setting the chandelier ablaze as well, I headed straight for the master bathroom. On my way through the adjoining bedroom, I kicked off my sneakers and grabbed my music player. Although the fire was already roaring in the room, I flicked my wrist in its direction stoking the flames for good measure.

  Wanting an escape from the silence of my quarters, I turned on the speakers for my music player. Hozier's It Will Come Back began to echo through the bathroom. Before the opening guitar chords were over, I had steaming water filling the claw foot tub.

  I stripped out of my workout clothes and zip up jacket, pulling my hair free from the ponytail it had been secured in. I found a couple burs stuck in some strands and I was reminded of how futile my pursuit had been. I had spent the day searching for him . . . and he had been in my very quarters.

  I had encountered the Dark Prince. One feared by many. One I had thought would showcase his gruesomeness in a display of power and aggression.

  But he had been so . . . hollow. He had no presence. I understood now why I hadn't initially picked up on his energy. He had none. No will of spirit. No crackling power. No uninhibited aggression. He was just another haunted shadow floating, untethered, in this forgotten place.

  And now that I understood what his presence felt like, I could feel it everywhere. The moment he had slipped from my quarters, I realized his essence was all over my sitting room. He had also been in the dining room and spare bedrooms. I could feel the remnants of his presence out in the hallway to the suite as well. It wasn't from just this evening either. He had been here over the past few days.

  For whatever reason, he had not been in the master bedroom or bathroom. It was why I had retreated here. Why I felt comfortable enough to strip down for the bath. He had not trespassed upon this area.

  But I had fallen asleep the first two nights in the sitting room. He could have been there. Watching me. I would not make the mistake of falling asleep there again.

  After promising myself I would sleep in the bedroom, I settled into the tub. And I went on with my evening as if nothing had happened.

  What else was I supposed to do? What could I do?

  Had I been attacked, I would have known what to do. I would have fought. I would have kicked ass. I didn't believe there was any Shadow I couldn't take on, be he the freakin' prince of them all or not.

  But instead I had been left alone once again. So I soaked in the hot water and reassessed.

  At least now I knew that he was here. That he had been here. Perhaps this wasn't a total waste of time. Perhaps I still had a shot with my original plan.

  It was like I told Killian. If there wasn't an imm
ediate threat, I didn't need to rush things. If I could have this marriage officially announced, I would be one step closer to taking control of the Shadow government.

  But there was an immediate threat. Perhaps not to myself, but how many more innocent people like Gwen and Daniel would die before I was successful? I needed to make this happen.

  However, I had one go at it. I couldn’t be foolish. I couldn’t rush into any actions or decisions. I would have to learn as much as I could before deciding on a final course.

  God, if I could pull this off, I could stop the needless violence and senseless deaths.

  When the water began to cool, I stood from the bath. I could see my reflection in the bathroom mirror and while there was nothing surprising about the rosy hue to my fair skin from all the heat or the darkened wet color of my hair, what was unexpected was the violet glow from my eyes.

  Try as I might to tell myself I wasn't affected by my run in with the Shadow Prince, my eyes betrayed my true emotions. Instead of admitting the unease, I shut my eyes and turned away, grabbing a towel to wrap around my torso.

  I picked up my brush and began to run it through my hair. Performing a routine activity was calming, and I focused on the smooth swoosh of the bristles gliding over the wet strands.

  The brush was my favorite possession. It had been a gift from my parents when I was thirteen. It was chased silver with an intricate floral pattern as well as my initials delicately scripted across the back. I had felt like such a grown-up whenever I had used it. And through the years, the timeless beauty of it hadn't faded.

  I also believed it had been spelled somehow. I wasn't sure what the exact intent had been, but I always felt calm and confident after using it.

  I had considered not packing it, in the event I didn't make the transition to the manor or if I had to make a quick escape. But now I was glad I had my own things. Things that grounded me. That were a part of my life. And feeling even better, I slipped on a robe.

  I picked up some dossier files I had been reading and sat on the downy bed. As soon as I did, I heard shuffling. I could imagine the Crone limping along with that heavy tray out in the dining area. I felt bad for not going out to help or thank her, but really, she probably didn't want to see me just as much as I didn't want to leave the security of the bedroom.