by Eva Chase
“Only barely,” she said in a dramatic undertone, but her eyes still twinkled merrily. She struck a pose, one hand on her hip, the other in the air. “What do you think of the new get-up?”
Today’s outfit consisted of a sleek white tank top with a pearly sheen and trim white capris. Vivi only wore white—“It’s my calling card,” she’d told me way back when—which to be fair did set off her smooth brown skin and dark features amazingly. She emphasized her eyes with thick liner and mascara, and her black hair ran tight along her scalp in braids before bursting into a gush of curls at the back. Perhaps most amazing was the fact that she somehow managed never to get a smudge or a stain on all that pale fabric.
“You look incredible,” I said, “like you always do. Got something special happening later?”
“I’m supposed to meet this guy for drinks. We’ve talked a little online. I don’t know. Hard to tell how you’re going to feel about a person until you can see and, like, smell them, right?”
My mind tripped back to Ruse’s bittersweet cacao scent, and a warmth I hadn’t wanted to provoke flickered up from my chest. I tamped down on it in the same instant, but Vivi knew me pretty well.
“Huh,” she said with a teasing tilt of her head. “What have you been up to, missy?”
I waved her off. “Nothing, nothing. Just thinking about times past and all.” I didn’t have to mention how recently past they were. Time for a subject change! “Hey, have you heard anything through the grapevine about hunters getting more organized or people trying to trap higher shadowkind as well as the little beasties?”
Vivi frowned. “I don’t think so. Maybe someone else will have. Why, do you think something like that is happening?”
“Just seems like it could. Something to keep an eye out for.” I scrambled for an excuse that wouldn’t perk Vivi’s curiosity too much. “It’s coming up on the anniversary of Luna’s death, and I guess that got me thinking.”
My best friend’s expression immediately softened with sympathy. She gave me a gentle tap of her elbow. “That’s got to be tough. But it’s been a long time and we haven’t seen more incidents that were anything like that, so I don’t think there’s a pattern. Just a bunch of assholes who must have thought better of making that kind of move after things went wrong.”
“True,” I said. It could also be true that what had happened to the trio who’d crashed my apartment and their “boss” was an isolated incident, not part of a larger conspiracy, no matter what the guy in charge had believed.
“Can’t hurt to ask, though, if it makes you feel better. Come on.” She motioned for us to head back to the front of the room where several other Fund members were scattered across the folding seats, munching popcorn and chatting. The projection screen flashed briefly as Ellen and Huyen must have fiddled with their weekly visual report, which they would share once the meeting really got underway.
We’d only made it halfway down the aisle when one of the lounging figures yanked himself to his feet and ambled our way. My steps slowed. “Here comes the rain again,” I murmured to Vivi, but my heart wasn’t in the joke.
“Hey,” Leland said as he reached us, his voice light but cool, his expression outright cold. The muscles in his stout frame, which a bodybuilder would have envied, flexed beneath his polo shirt. I forced myself to smile, but his gaze only rested on me for a second before flitting to Vivi and staying there.
Ever since we’d broken off our friends-with-benefits arrangement, emphasis on the benefits, months ago—or rather, since I’d broken it off after he’d started snapping at me for not doting on him like an actual girlfriend—he’d turned to ice around me. Somehow he couldn’t stop making a point of shoving that ice in my face at least once a meeting. Did he think I was going to throw myself into his arms with sobs of regret because of his pointed demonstrations?
I wasn’t, because honestly, I didn’t miss even the casual relationship I’d lost all that much. I’d always found Leland easy on the eyes, that soft face and schoolboy haircut paired with his tough-guy physique, but in personality? We’d gotten along well enough when all we’d had to discuss was where we’d be hooking up on a given night. We hadn’t had much to talk about otherwise. The fact that he’d apparently wanted more had thrown me for a loop.
But it still stung that I hadn’t picked up on the signs soon enough to avoid his obvious hurt and that I’d managed to disappoint him so thoroughly even when we’d seemed to be on the same page… It wasn’t the first time. No matter what kind of relationship I ended up in, it always turned out I wasn’t giving enough.
I’d been doing my best to show I had no hard feelings and wanted to co-exist peacefully, so I ignored the intended snub with my smile still in place. “Hey. Looks like it’s going to be a busy meeting tonight.”
He responded with a noncommittal grunt, nodded to Vivi, and veered closer to the seats to pass us on her side. As he stepped by, his foot must have caught on the base of the nearest chair. I didn’t see it happen, but one second he was striding along, and the next he was sprawling forward onto his hands and knees with an audible “Ooof!”, ass in the air.
As Leland picked himself up, one of the old members who’d come over to the popcorn machine chuckled. “Watch yourself there, kid!” Leland brushed himself off with a briskness that showed his embarrassment and hustled on giving the chairs a wide berth.
Vivi wrinkled her nose and leaned in to talk under her breath. “Maybe if he paid more attention to where he was walking than to giving you the cold shoulder…”
“At some point he’s got to forgive and forget,” I replied. I sure hoped so. For now, I could stick to giving him whatever space he felt he needed. It was a big room—plenty of chairs for everyone.
Shaking off the gloom of that exchange, I continued on to the other familiar—and much more welcoming—faces gathered near the screen. With Vivi looking on, I phrased my questions about new hunter behavior carefully, but all I got were shaken heads and doubtful expressions. If a larger than usual effort to confine the shadowkind was underway, word of it hadn’t reached our group yet.
Which meant it either wasn’t happening… or the people involved were covering their tracks incredibly well.
“All right, folks,” Ellen called out as she and Huyen emerged from the projection booth. “Let’s see what we can put in motion today. We had an incident earlier this week that should remind us all why none of the beings that cross over into our world deserve to be left in the hands of people who see them only as supernatural collectibles. A member of the Defense Fund in L.A. joined a group of mortal-side higher shadowkind who shut down a hunter ring, and this is what they encountered.”
At the press of a button, a video started to play on the screen. It’d clearly been taken with a handheld camera, probably a phone, and the hand that held it was shaking.
The recording swiveled to take in a small, dim room. A couple dozen cages stood stacked against one wall. At the other, several furred or scaled forms sprawled on the steel table, bones protruding from their flesh like ghostly knobs.
“Oh my God,” the video-taker mumbled with obvious horror.
My own stomach churned queasily at the sight. Some collectors were too nervous or fastidious to want to deal with living shadowkind. For them, the hunters carved up their haul to provide polished skeletons or taxidermy shells. Two sales for one catch. Some hunters even preferred those dealings.
There wasn’t much we mortals could do to take down these hunter rings—or independent hunters and their clients—directly, especially a larger scale operation like in the video. They’d have at least one sorcerer on staff: one of the rare human beings who’d mastered the art of summoning shadowkind from their own realm and bending their powers to the sorcerer’s will. Their magic would deflect any typical law enforcement we tried to sic on them.
Those of us in the Fund had all come to know about shadowkind in various, personal ways we couldn’t have convinced the general public to belie
ve. Maybe if the higher shadowkind had wanted to show off their powers and prove they existed, we could have made more headway… but understandably, they had much more of an advantage in keeping their true nature secret.
The best we could offer was to interfere with the hunting and collecting as well as we could in roundabout ways, gather money to buy and release caught creatures when we had the chance, and inform the higher shadowkind who’d taken up residence in our world of activities we’d uncovered so they could step in if they felt it worth the risk. At least this bunch had taken action before the people who ran the facility could torment any more unwitting beings.
A solemn mood had descended over the room when the video finished. Then a chart popped up on the screen showing our latest fundraising efforts—not a bad week, considering we had to keep secret what we were actually raising those funds for.
“One of the big old homes in Walnut Hill halfway burned down last night,” someone piped up as the screen went dark. “We’ve seen signs that the owner was a collector. That’s the third fire this year—do we still have no idea who to thank?”
I bit my tongue. I definitely had nothing at all to say about that.
If I wanted to continue my more vigilante-style interventions, it was best if no one else had any idea I was responsible. The other Fund members might joke about approving, but if they knew one of their own was committing the crimes, I’d be kicked out for “crossing too many lines” in two seconds flat. I’d seen it happen to a guy who’d leaned too far into vigilante territory not long after I’d first joined.
“If it’s a higher shadowkind taking matters into their own hands, as we’ve discussed before, it’s understandable that they’re not advertising the fact,” Huyen said.
A guy farther back clapped his hands. “I say we leave them to it. They can police what happens to their own in their own way.”
Being raised by a higher shadowkind for thirteen or so years made me pretty much an honorary one, right? That was my story, and I was sticking to it. Auntie Luna hadn’t deserved what the bastards had done to her, and I’d be damned if I let any other shadowkind suffer while I could prevent it by any means necessary.
Vivi glanced at me and must have caught something in my expression. “Still fretting?”
I shrugged. “It’s okay. If no one’s heard anything, then there’s nothing to hear.”
“We could always spread the net a little farther. I was thinking of stopping by Jade’s on Friday night. Wanna come with? It’s been a while since we let loose anyway.”
Yes, Jade’s would be the perfect spot to dig a little further—and hopefully solve my uninvited monster roommate difficulties. I smiled. “You’re right—let’s do it.”
6
Sorsha
Popcorn was hardly enough to fill a gal up, scorch-your-tongue-off spicy or not. As I tramped up the stairs past the fabric shop to my apartment, my stomach grumbled about how long I’d delayed dinner time. It was definitely time to eat.
I fit my key into the lock, singing to myself: “When the meal’s in sight, I’m gonna run all night, I’m gonna run to chew…”
I pushed open the door half expecting my new shadowkind roomies to be waiting on the threshold all but wagging their tails to see me home. Instead, the hall was vacant, the apartment totally silent, no movement even in what I could see of the kitchen.
For just a split second, my spirits lifted with the hope that the trio had changed their minds about the whole glomming-onto-Sorsha plan and gone off to pursue their rescue efforts on their own. Just a split second, because an instant later, three distinctive forms wavered out of the shadow cast by the front door like watercolor paints condensing into a sharpened image.
Pickle scampered out of my bedroom, saw the much larger shadowkind, and cringed before flinging himself the rest of the way toward me. I’d have been surprised he didn’t flee right into the shadows, except he’d gotten so attached to me that he stuck to his physical form all the time these days. I wasn’t sure he even remembered how to vanish into the darkness.
I scooped him up to set him on his preferred shoulder perch and eyed my obstinate guests. “You decided you’d rather lurk?”
Thorn was wearing the dour expression that seemed to come so naturally to his rugged face. He squared his broad shoulders as if his form wasn’t intimidating enough up close. “It’s much easier—and more discreet—for us to travel through the shadows.”
Snap’s moss-green eyes were lit with a neon sparkle. “Such a fascinating place,” he said with an errant flick of his tongue that, yes, I was sure now was slightly forked at the tip. “So many chairs—and what is the purpose of them swinging up?”
Chairs that swung up…? My stance tensed, Pickle’s claws jabbing my collarbone as he echoed my reaction. “You followed me to the theater?”
Thorn gave me a baleful look. “We could hardly ensure your protection if we stayed in the apartment when you’ve left it, m’lady.”
I’d definitely heard him right that time. “M’lady?”
“Excuse the archaics,” Ruse said with his typical amused smirk. “Our friend here hasn’t spent much time mortal-side since the Middle Ages.”
Thorn had said it so stiffly I got the impression he resented the honorific anyway, not that I’d required it. “Well, I’m not your lady,” I said to him. “And I told you I don’t need your protection. You can’t go sneaking around after people without them even knowing—”
Except they could, because they were shadowkind, and that was how they worked. Even now, in the face of my irritation, Thorn and Snap only appeared to be various degrees of puzzled. I had the feeling Ruse understood my protest, but that didn’t mean he sympathized. His smirk suggested the opposite.
“We didn’t interfere with your activities,” Thorn said. “I would like to know, though, what business that congregation of mortals has with the shadowkind.”
“And how were those images put on that wall?” Snap put in. “So large and—moving!”
He drew in a breath as if to exclaim more, but Thorn cut his gaze toward the slimmer man with a firm glower. Snap shut his mouth with an apologetic dip of his divine head.
Suddenly I was twice as annoyed as before. Who’d put Mr. Brawn in charge of any of us? If their “boss” had brought all three of them on, then no doubt the apparent sun god here was just as capable as the others no matter how much the mortal realm amazed him. I’d rather answer Snap’s awed questions than listen to Thorn’s demands for information.
“You should have been able to figure that out if you’d been paying any attention,” I said to the hulking guy, brushing past him on my way to the kitchen. They weren’t going to stop me from grabbing the dinner I’d been looking forward to, even if my enthusiasm had dwindled. “The Fund is an organization of mortals who are aware of the shadowkind’s existence and do what they can to help the creatures who’ve run into major trouble here. Whoever nabbed your boss, they’d be among the most likely to have heard something.”
I snatched a frozen dinner from the freezer and shoved it into the microwave. I definitely wasn’t in the mood for an extended cooking session right now.
The trio had followed me into the kitchen, Thorn in the lead. He folded his bulging arms over his chest. “It didn’t sound as if they relayed any information that would direct us.”
“They didn’t,” I agreed. “Because either your friend Omen got grabbed by some regular if particularly ambitious hunters and it’s all a coincidence that he was talking conspiracy theories beforehand, or the conspirators are keeping their plotting incredibly quiet. I’ve got other people I can check with, though.”
“You told the woman in white that you’d accompany her to a place called ‘Jade’?”
Sweet jackrabbits and hares, how closely had he been eavesdropping? I gritted my teeth as I got my fork. The microwave dinged, not a moment too soon.
“Jade’s,” I said. “As in Jade’s Fountain. It’s a bar run by one of your
kind, with other shadowkind as frequent clientele along with various mortals, most of whom have no idea. She doesn’t like to get involved in inter-realm conflicts, but she’ll pass on observations if she doesn’t think it’ll come back to bite her—or she might point me to someone else in the know.”
Thorn didn’t look convinced. “Are you sure this is the most fruitful avenue you could take? Talking hasn’t resulted in any progress so far.”
I resisted the urge to mash my newly heated container of pad thai into his face. Satisfying as it might briefly be, it’d be a waste of the food.
“It’s the best strategy I can think of. If you want to keep busy in the meantime, how about tomorrow you show me the spot where Omen got ambushed and maybe we’ll find something there?” Maybe I could move these three along before I even got to Jade’s, and I could spend my time there chatting with Vivi instead of digging for clues.
“I highly doubt our attackers would have left obvious identifying ephemera behind,” Thorn said, his glower deepening.
Of course he’d take offense to the slightest hint that he might have missed something. I shrugged. “Well, maybe I’ll pick up on something you all wouldn’t have. If you have other avenues you want to pursue, get to it. Now I’m going to go have dinner. Alone.”
Since I wasn’t likely to get privacy in the kitchen, I marched back down the hall. But my “protectors” couldn’t take a hint. They trailed after me as if connected by a magnetic force.
I spun around when I reached my bedroom doorway, about to tell them off. Before I had the chance, Thorn barreled ahead with his interrogation.
“That young man you spoke to momentarily before the images on the wall started—he gave me the impression of hostility. Is there any chance he might have something against the shadowkind after all?”
Could I stab him with my fork? I did have plenty of those. Of course, who could say whether the guy’s commitment to keeping me safe would hold firm in the wake of a direct assault. I settled for clenching the handle tighter and aiming my best death glare at him.