by Paula Weston
‘My heart stops every time I think about it.’
‘Does it freak you out? The angel part?’
My laugh is short. ‘Whatever I am, it doesn’t feel very angelic.’
‘Yeah, well, none of them are very angelic either,’ Maggie says.
‘Except Jason.’
Maggie glances away, straightens the doona.
‘Come on,’ I say. ‘He protects little girls, talks about his feelings and likes to bake. He probably even helps old ladies across the street. And those curls…’
‘Stop it.’ She almost smiles.
‘You know he cares about you. He wants you safe.’
She nods, still not looking up.
‘Listen.’ I tap one of her toes. ‘I’ll cut the head off the next bastard who comes near you. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you out of this.’
‘I don’t want you to keep me out of it,’ Maggie says.
‘I’m not putting you at risk again, Maggie.’
‘I still have to live, Gaby. If Dad’s death taught me anything, it’s that life is short and you can’t hide from pain.’
‘Yeah, but—’
‘I can’t fight, and I can’t shift, and I can’t do any of the things your Rephaim can do, but I can be your friend. And don’t tell me you don’t need one—not after what I saw and heard tonight.’
I find a loose thread on the doona and pull it free.
‘I don’t deserve your friendship.’
‘Yeah, you do.’
My throat closes over and a tear slides down my cheek. I don’t brush it away. ‘God, I must be wrecked,’ I say, my voice thick. ‘I’ve never cried this much in my life.’
‘Just shows you’re human.’
I manage a strangled laugh, not sure if she means to be ironic or not.
There’s a knock on the door. ‘Dinner’s up,’ Jason says. ‘It’s Thai.’
Maggie stares at the wall as his footsteps fade. She sighs. ‘Come on.’
I wipe my face. ‘I’ll be out in a minute. I need to change.’ She gives me a quick hug, and leaves.
I pull on fresh clothes slowly, like I’m underwater. Then I go to close the window. Leaves rustle in the jacaranda tree and a bright moon shines down between its branches. Was it only a week ago I stood here after another dream, drenched in sweat, sobbing, and missing Jude so much I couldn’t breathe?
Now there’s a chance he’s standing somewhere looking at the same moon. Is he thinking about me?
Who does he think I am?
Maybe we screwed up. Maybe we betrayed everyone close to us and deserved whatever happened to us.
I don’t care.
What matters is that Jude might be alive. Not my Jude. Another Jude. But still my twin.
I sigh, pull the window in and lock it.
And then I walk towards the voices in the kitchen.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
To my agent, Lyn Tranter: thank you for tirelessly championing my work and never pulling a punch. I’m eternally grateful to you on both counts. To Mandy Brett and Alison Arnold at Text: you both got Shadows from the start and your support is the reason this book has seen the light of day. ‘Thank you’ just doesn’t seem enough.
To Alison again, as my editor: words can’t describe my appreciation for your amazing talent or my gratitude for your passion for this story. You’ve challenged me, and helped make Shadows better than I could have ever hoped for. I can’t wait to work with you on Book 2. (Oh, and Maggie says thanks—she’d be nowhere near as stylish and creative without you.)
Thanks also to publicist extraordinaire Stephanie Stepan, WH Chong for Shadows’ stunning cover, and the rest of the team at Text: what a pleasure it is to work with people who genuinely adore books and care about their authors.
A huge thank you to friends who read the first draft of Shadows (most of you, in instalments). Rebecca Cram (aka Place): I love that after more than twenty years of friendship, our conversations still range from human rights issues to Harry Potter. It’s so appropriate you were the first person to read Shadows, and I love that I get to put your name in my book. Michelle Reid, Sarah Koch, Elise Dunlop and Kate Bevan: your positive responses and constructive feedback were invaluable. You do realise that you have to read all early drafts of my books from now on, don’t you?
To (Dr) Lee McGowan: Your advice on past manuscripts and those manic conversations over coffee made me want to be a better writer, so thank you. Thanks, too, to Louise Cusack, whose feedback on a previous manuscript five years ago helped my writing career move forward.
To Heather Scott: my friend, business partner and collaborator in all things foodie, arty and theatre-y. Your beautiful friendship is as precious to me as your flourless chocolate cake. Thank you for all you bring to my life. Thanks, too, to your other half, Alex Milosevic: a good friend, a nifty barista, and one of the few people who can still bait me in an argument.
Humble thanks to Celia and Brent Southcombe, two people whose lives inspire me on a daily basis. Thank you for your unwavering support and belief. You are amazing people and I’m in awe of how you’re changing the world.
So many people have been a part of my writing journey over many years, not the least of whom are Nicola and Troy Bishop, who have been there to celebrate every milestone (and drown every sorrow) with a bottle of red or two. Thanks, guys. Of course, the journey isn’t over yet so keep those glasses handy. Likewise to Pam and Kevin Hall and the Weller family—thanks for all your support. And to my dear friend, Anna Mitchell: I wish you were here to see this dream finally become a reality. I know you’d be proud. I still miss you.
Thanks for the love and encouragement from my immediate and extended family, especially to Mum and Dad. (See, that misspent youth came to some use after all.) Apologies again, Mum, for the bad language in Shadows…
To my husband, Murray, who never stops believing in me, even when I doubt myself: thank you for letting me be me—and making me laugh when I take myself too seriously. I wouldn’t have made it this far without you. Whatever the future holds, I’m okay with it as long as you’re a part of it.
And God. Yes, I’m thanking God. I know it’s overdone and clichéd, and I’m far from a poster child for organised religion. But I’ve seen enough, experienced enough and made enough mistakes to know I’m here by the grace (and good humour) of God.
Lastly, but certainly not least—thank you to everyone who reads Shadows. I hope you enjoy this opening instalment to the Rephaim series, that it lets you escape from the other stuff in life for just a little while.