by Amir Lane
The Shadow took it as either permission or a challenge. The second it came into contact with the wooden frame, it wailed in pain from the sigils protecting it. There wasn’t much in this room that they could touch without running into the magical equivalent of a bug zapper or electric fence. He only wished he could do the same thing with his body, but the attempt had left him with a nasty burn beneath his ribs that still hadn’t quite healed.
Sigils extended along the walls and door. Their uses ranged from soundproofing the room to keeping everyone else out of it. None of them required blood. That was reserved for controlling the Shadows, and his own blood was only needed for specific spells. Still, Dieter’s arm was becoming littered with scars. He’d had no choice but to swap his t-shirts for long sleeves and start stocking up on excuses.
Dieter sat down on his bed, rubbing his eyes again until he saw stars. He could hear someone moving around downstairs. Part of him wanted to go down to talk to them, and part of him wanted to keep hiding in his room. The more the Shadows bothered him, the less he wanted to be around people.
No, that wasn’t true.
He did want to be around people. He wanted to hear human voices and feel human hands. He wanted to feel human. But he could barely even muster the energy to go to class. Anything else was out of the question.
Eventually, Dieter’s stomach won out over exhaustion. The cereal box on his desk was empty, so he had no choice but to go downstairs. The Shadows followed, chattering. He wondered what they were expecting.
“I’m just getting food,” he told them.
They didn’t respond, and he didn’t expect them to. Not that it bothered him. The quieter they were, the better.
Lindy was in the kitchen putting groceries away when he walked in. She stood on her toes to reach the top cupboard.
“Here, I got it,” he said.
He took the box from her hand and slid it into place.
“My hero,” she said dryly.
Dieter snorted. He made a motion to turn away, hesitating when he caught sight of Lindy’s damp eyes and smeared eyeliner.
“Are you okay?”
“What? Yeah, no, this is just eye drops. I ran out of waterproof crap, and I can never get the stuff in my eyes the first time.”
Dieter tried not to laugh. It wasn’t funny but, really, it was a little funny.
“Your eyes wouldn’t dry out so much if you just wore glasses instead of contacts. I know, I know, glasses suck. But you stare at computer screens all day. That’ll dry anyone’s eyes out.”
Lindy pulled a couple of faces at him.
“I’ll take my eyes drying out over glasses any day, thank you very much.”
So she was always saying. Maybe she just didn’t want to acknowledge how bad her vision really was.
“You look tired,” Lindy said.
“You’re one to talk. You have the worst sleep schedule I have ever seen.”
Lindy opened her mouth to respond and paused with a scowl.
“Okay, that’s fair. But I work in a 24/7 industry. What’s your excuse?”
“Work, school, Shadows. They keep me pretty busy. It cuts into my nap time.”
“That is also fair. Hey, while you’re here, help me put this stuff away.”
Dieter let out an exaggerated sigh, but he crouched down to grab a few boxes of granola bars. Breakfast for the next couple weeks.
“So I stopped by that coffee place I like after work,” she said. “The one by the university. They’re calling you the Shadow Maker.”
He frowned and glanced over at her. What?
“Who is?”
“Witches. We aren’t big on real names.”
“Yeah, I know that. Why—are they calling me that?”
Lindy snorted. She handed him another few boxes.
“What, it isn’t obvious?”
“Well, I didn’t make them. ‘Shadow Maker’ makes it sound like I killed people.”
“Eh. I guess ‘Shadow Seer’ doesn’t sound as cool.”
As true as that was, it didn’t make him feel any better. He didn’t want to be a Shadow anything, and he sure as hell didn’t want a bunch of witches he didn’t even know talking about him.
The Shadows hovered, threatening to knock things out of Dieter’s hands. It took a constant stream of energy to keep them at bay. It was more taxing than using sigils, which held the energy until it was needed and then discharged at a steady rate like an electric capacitor. This was more like a short circuit; Energy running through without resistance or storage.
Beads of sweat formed along his hairline. Lindy’s hand on his shoulder broke his concentration. A Shadow screeched and took the opportunity to hurl the package of extra lean ground beef onto the ceramic-tiled floor.
“Are you okay? Are you having a heart attack or something?”
Dieter shook his head.
“I’m fine. I’m just trying to keep the Shadows back.”
They didn’t appreciate the effort, if the claws raking over the back of his neck were any indication. The Shadows whirled around him as Lindy guided him to the couch. They scratched at his skin, not hard enough to draw blood but hard enough to make Lindy purse her lips.
“Can you make them go away?” Lindy asked.
“Not like this.”
He was vaguely aware of Lindy wandering back to the kitchen and running the sink. The Shadows swarmed around her as she walked back with a damp hand towel and a glass of water. Dieter sat up. The Shadows stopped only inches from her and wailed a chorus of, “Seer”.
His chest ached, and he wondered if maybe he was having a heart attack. He tried to take a deep breath. It was like his heart was expanding and contracting so rapidly that his lungs didn’t have room to do the same.
Lindy coaxed him to drink and wiped his face with the towel. All the while, she murmured encouraging words that were probably standard in her job training. This was far from a standard situation, but the principle probably still applied.
The Shadows hovered, watching, their vague bodies twisting and contorting into positions that did little to slow his heart. The whines and moans filling the air almost drowned out Lindy’s voice.
“Just keep breathing,” she said. “Do you need me to take you to the hospital?”
Dieter shook his head.
“I need some air. I can’t breathe.”
He pushed himself off the couch and dragged himself outside with Lindy’s help. The air had the almost permanent smell of dog shit that spring air always seemed to have as the snow began to melt. It wasn’t what Dieter would call ‘fresh air,’ but at least he didn’t feel like he was being smothered anymore.
It was only just above freezing outside. The sweat on Dieter’s skin cooled almost instantly. Breathing was becoming easier so long as he kept breathing through his mouth.
“I’m okay,” he said, more to himself than to Lindy.
“I think you just had a panic attack. Or an anxiety attack. I can never remember which is which,” Lindy said.
Dieter braced his arms on the side of the house and let out a short, tense laugh.
“Does it matter?” he asked.
“No, I guess not. Are you feeling any better?”
“Well, I know I’m not having a heart attack. I guess I call that better.”
He forced himself to keep taking deep, even breaths. His stomach growled in a reminder that he still hadn’t eaten. Now that he thought about it, he couldn’t actually remember when he’d eaten last. It must have been hours. No wonder he felt as bad as the lawn smelled. No wonder the Shadows got to him so easily.
“I’ll grab you something to eat. Shout if you need anything,” Lindy said.
Dieter gave her a thumbs up. The front door clicked shut behind her. He sat down on a clean spot on the porch and leant back against the wall. The bricks dug into his back and the wood was cold, but it was bearable.
Without anything keeping his mind occupied, he could feel the familiar buzzing at the
back of his mind that alerted him to the Shadows’ locations. If he focused, really focused, he could even see through their eyes—so to speak. The only time he had tried it, he’d wound up vomiting from a combination of dizziness and sensory overload. While it was something Alistair claimed he did often, Dieter wasn’t in any rush to try it again.
He stayed outside until Lenna pulled into the driveway in her Jeep. He could hear her unnecessarily high heels clicking against the pavement. It was enough of a distraction to mute the buzzing.
“You bird watching or something?” she asked, fishing her keys out of her sweater pocket.
“Or something.”
The Shadows couldn’t be compared to birds, no matter how many windows they ran into or how many times they woke him up with high sounds. He wasn’t really watching them, anyway. He was just trying not to think.
DARKNESS MADE it nearly impossible for Dieter to see the Shadows. He could pretend that the hoarse whispers were just wind rustling through the leaves when he sat on the rooftop at night like this. The snow had long since melted, making it the perfect place to sit.
He pushed his hair out of his face and lit another cigarette. He kept telling himself that he was going to quit, that every cigarette would be his last. But it kept him in this frequency. Until he found a better way to keep himself here, he couldn’t quit. Wouldn’t. Either way.
“Dieter. Dieter!”
Dieter glanced down. He could barely make Lindy out, clad in black as she was.
“You’re going to break your neck one day if you keep hanging out on the roof,” she warned.
It was tempting to point out the irony of her warning. Lindy had practically left the house from her window more than the front door when they were in high school.
“Is this fact, or speculation?” Dieter asked.
He couldn’t hear her response, but he could imagine the tight scowl she would have.
“We’re watching a movie. You coming?”
“Yeah, sure. Be down in a sec.”
Dieter heard more than saw Lindy go back into the house. Even with the cigarette between his lips, it was suddenly hard to ignore the Shadows that decided they didn’t want to be ignored. One scratched across the rooftop, hissing his name in a raspy voice. The sound that had sent him sobbing as a child only annoyed him now.
Pointed claws raked over the back of his neck as a second Shadow joined. Dieter kept his attention on the first, glowering at the figure inches from his face even as he hair on his arms stood on end.
“No.”
He tried to imitate his father’s stern and unforgiving tone. It must have worked because the Shadows thinned out with a hiss until they were no longer visible.
The night didn’t seem so friendly anymore.
Dieter finished his cigarette and climbed back in through the window. The dry-erase seal on the window still kept any random Shadows from getting in, but it did nothing to stop the ones attached to him. The seal painted on the door kept people out. He had long since come to terms with the fact that he was not getting his security deposit back. It didn’t matter.
He didn’t pay much attention to the movie, some overdone action flick. The Shadows made sure of it. They flitted around him, tugging on his skin and hissing his name in raspy voices. At some point, Aldo crawled off Lenna’s skin and took to staring at them with yellow eyes that held a threat to pounce. It only served to agitate them even more.
“I’m going out for a bit,” Dieter said, unfolding his legs and standing. “I need air.”
“What, more air? You’re missing the best part,” Lenna warned, keeping her eyes on the TV.
Lindy stared just to Dieter’s left. He almost suspected that she saw more than she let on. Or maybe she just couldn’t quite see where he was. Her glasses were on the coffee table.
“You won’t be out all night, will you? You work in the morning,” she reminded him.
“I know. I just need to walk the Shadows.”
He could feel Aldo’s eyes following him as he left. The air outside was hot and humid from the impending shower. It didn’t do much to calm the Shadows. Despite the darkness, it wasn’t that late. He wasn’t tired enough to crawl into bed and curl up under the sheets as if it would keep the phantom hands from sliding over his skin.
A Shadow moved right in front of his face. Dieter swiped at it, like passing his hand through smoke.
“Don’t touch me!”
A late night jogger paused and stared. Dieter paid them no attention. They couldn’t see what was in front of him.
The whispers were bad enough. The touch was unbearable. Cold and sharp like screws that had been kept in a garage threatening to break through his skin. His skin tingled for a human warmth. The craving was so bad, it was almost painful. He needed something to offset the cold hands, something to remind himself that he was human, too.
Dieter’s wallet was already in his back pocket. He didn’t offer any explanation to his housemates as he took off on foot down the street. He knew he could have called Alistair or Sandra or any number of people from his casual flings. There were about half a dozen messages from Alistair sitting on his phone that were just too overwhelming to reply too. Dieter grimaced at the thought of anyone he knew touching him tonight. Strangers were better.
Downtown was only a half an hour walk away. Soon, he could feel music vibrating through the sidewalk. The array of Shadows was lighter, more faded than his, and they didn’t pay any attention to him. Thank fuck.
The nice thing about crowds was that it was easy to lose the Shadows in them. He flashed his ID at the bouncer before slipping into the club. Music thrummed through his veins and shot after shot after shot burned his throat.
There was a brief second of habitual panic over the thought that he wasn’t supposed to drink with his medication. But it wasn’t an issue anymore. He tossed back another shot. Warmth filled his stomach.
A pair of hands—human hands—tugged Dieter onto the dance floor. She was pretty, drunk, and so warm. Her hands almost burned his skin. He pressed himself up against her, moving in time with the beat pulsing from the speakers.
A man slid in behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist.
“My boyfriend,” the woman shouted over the music.
The man stared at Dieter with hungry eyes. Dieter tangled his fingers in curly black hair and pulled him down into a kiss. He could feel the woman moan between them. God, this was exactly what he wanted.
Shadows grabbed Dieter’s hair, pulling and screeching for his attention. He was more interested in the warm lips working over his throat.
Whatever happened next was a blur of alcohol and kisses and hands slipping under clothes in the back of a cab. Somehow, they ended up in a house, tripping over each other as they stumbled up the stairs to the master bedroom.
Warm, human hands roamed Dieter’s skin. The bed was soft beneath his knees. He could hear the springs creaking with their movements. He covered his fingers over the man’s, pressing them harder into his hips while the woman’s nails raised marks on his back and shoulders. He wanted them to leave evidence of tonight all over his body for him to look at later. It was everything he’d been craving and more. He wanted to remember this. There was no place for Shadows between them.
DIETER AWOKE late the next morning with his head on the man’s chest. The first thing he noticed was the Arabic writing scrawled across the base of his ribs in black ink. Through bleary eyes, he could see that the man was decidedly pretty, with sharp features and sand-coloured skin. He couldn’t have been more than a handful of years older than Dieter. Nothing regrettable at all.
He didn’t realize that the shower was running until it shut off. The door opened and the woman, clad only in a towel, stepped out. She was even prettier, with darker skin and a wider nose and long, black eyelashes that were void of mascara.
“Good morning,” she said, smiling.
“Morning.”
His voice cracked a little. It made him
wince.
“There’s water on the table for you,” she said.
Dieter couldn’t tell if she was amused, or if it was just her accent. He sat up, and the man shifted beside him with a groan.
“Sabah il khaer, Yasir,” the woman said, the grin evident in her voice.
“Sabah il fuck off,” the man—Yasir—groaned.
He looked over at Dieter with soft, hazel eyes.
“And I thought you were pretty last night. Isn’t he pretty, Selima?”
Dieter let out a breathy laugh. Their voices were soothing. Nothing like the hisses he usually woke up to.
The sudden realisation that the Shadows weren’t in the room had him looking around in a panic. Where were they? What were they doing if they weren’t here?
“If you’re looking for your spirits, they’re outside,” Selima said.
The towel had moved to her hair. She had a tattoo that matched Yasir’s. For a moment, Dieter forgot what they were talking about.
“What?”
“Spirits can’t come in here,” Yasir explained in a tired murmur. “This house is protected.”
“You guys see them?” Dieter asked.
“We see the colours,” Selima said.
Dieter rubbed his eyes and drank some of the water. He hadn’t expected to meet another person who could see Shadows, let alone two. Was that why they’d brought him home with them?
“You’re Sensitives?”
“Awliya, actually,” Yasir said, tracing his fingers absently over Dieter’s toned thigh. “We trained ourselves to see them.”
Dieter would have loved to spend the day here, figure out how or why anyone would do that. Even just the rest of the morning. They were more than just attractive, they were sweet. They were other people who knew about Shadows. But his phone vibrated and music started playing, a reminder that he had work.
“Shit. Fuck, I have to go. I’m going to be so late, fuck.”
He scrambled out of bed, grabbing his clothes off the floor. He was in too much of a rush to notice anything about the house, but he got the sense that it was big. Selima offered to drive him to work while Yasir rolled over onto his stomach went back to sleep.