“Keep going!” he barked over his shoulder.
“No fucking duh!”
I followed his lead, running flat out down King Street, barely dodging people standing at the bus stop or walking up the street. I barreled into a guy standing outside the Egyptian restaurant smoking, and we both nearly toppled to the ground.
Hunter grabbed me by the jacket and pulled me so hard I almost fell out of the damn thing. Stumbling around, I took off after him again. The guy I’d crashed into yelled after us as we bolted away.
I looked over my shoulder as Hunter leapt into the street without checking for traffic. One of the things from the club was chasing us down the hill. Wisps of shade licked the air as it ate up the space between us, but the people standing around the street didn’t even look in its direction as the monster darted around them. It jumped so high with each step it was nearly flying.
What would it do if it caught us?
The people loitering around, smoking in the cold or waiting for the bus—they acted as if they couldn’t even see it. I turned forward again, losing sight of the beast, as Hunter pulled me into Brunswick Square.
“The mall?”
He spoke without looking at me. “I know a safe place, just move!”
“Go, then!”
He took off, and I followed. More running. Fantastic. We passed through the sliding glass doors and into the Brunswick Square atrium and were blasted with warm air and the smell of greasy fries.
The mall tore by, mirrored columns and glass and lights. I caught sight of my reflection in one of the reflective pillars, pale hair tousled, cheeks bright pink from exertion and cold. My brown eyes glowed with a wash of panic and adrenaline, totally exhilarated. The mall was mostly empty at this time of the evening, some of the stores already closed and dark. The fancy candy store near the bank was shuttered for the night, and the phone store was empty, glass doors locked tight. But the Starbucks was still open, the smell of coffee wafting out along with the threads of a country song playing over the speakers. How could everything still seem so normal when the world had turned into something out of a comic book?
Hunter walked deeper into the mall, not running anymore, but not wasting time either, and I followed since I had no other choice. In the back of my mind I wondered how safe I even was with this stranger.
If he tried anything, I was going to bite him and run.
“Back in the alley—” I said.
“What about it?”
“How did you do that thing with the fire? What the hell is after us?”
He just prodded me along. “Come on. We aren’t safe yet.”
We stepped onto the escalator and walked along with it. I glanced over my shoulder nervously, but the creature was nowhere to be seen. Hunter turned at the bottom and pulled me in the direction of the hotel connected to the shopping center. We passed through the sliding glass doors into the lobby and I saw him breathe a sigh of relief, shoulders drooping.
“Really?” I asked. “The Delta?”
I looked around the lobby at the dark wooden walls and plush couches. It was certainly quiet. Peaceful. Classy.
But safe?
“Trust me.” He said. “I have a standing room—I put wards up around the place. Powerful ones.”
“Wards?”
“Invisible walls that sort of. . .disguise it. They keep things like that out.”
Lives in a hotel, builds invisible walls, has really good biceps. Who was this guy?
He walked away without another word, and I looked back out into the mall. Everything seemed normal—but in the shadows near the glass elevator, the light shifted strangely, like something unseen was moving by and distorting the world behind it. A shark in the water. I shivered and followed the stranger.
We rode to the third floor in silence. I was bursting with a million questions, but we weren’t alone: a middle-aged couple had climbed into the hotel elevator with us.
I kept my mouth shut.
Was I really safe with this guy? I could leave. I lived on Horsfield Street—not a long walk from here. Not when there weren’t shadow monsters stalking around outside and crazy gang fights breaking out, at least.
But now even those few blocks felt like a mine field that I couldn’t walk through safely on my own.
Why had those guys attacked at Temptation? And what in the hell had they unleashed?
I glanced at Hunter out of the corner of my eyes. His skin glistened with sweat, and his eyes were burning with anger, but it was his hands my eyes fixed on. They were large and long, big enough to wrap around my wrist and still touch on the other side. He’d shot fire from them. I replayed the sound the burning creature had loosed in the alley and felt something cold grip my chest. Was Riley okay? Was I okay? I might be able to feel lies, but I didn’t go around shooting fire balls at stuff like a human Mount Vesuvius. When my gaze moved back up I found Hunter had tilted his head to look at me. Our gazes locked.
The biggest question on my mind should be: What is he?
But it was actually this: Does he know what I am?
Everything is connected. The word they’d all been calling me at the club echoed back through time. Liesmith. Everyone seemed to know what the hell was going on, except me. I had to get answers out of someone.
The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. The older couple drifted away, the smell of aftershave and moth balls lingering. I stepped out after Hunter, feeling sort of numb. The plush carpeting of the hallway muffled our footsteps, the heavy silence swallowing every sound.
I felt like I’d stepped into another world, one step removed from everything happening around me.
When we got to Hunter’s room he threw open the door and stepped inside without looking back, leaving it open behind him. Guess that was as good an invitation as any.
I stepped inside and was surprised to see that it wasn’t just a room, but a large suite, complete with a little kitchenette. The hardwood floors gleamed in the light, and a thick beige carpet stretched across the room. Aside from a massive bed covered in throw pillows, there was a laptop set up on the desk and a couple of chunky armchairs. It looked like the typical corporate, transitory space hotel rooms are supposed to be, but there were touches of his presence everywhere. A thin navy blue quilt had been tossed across the foot of the bed, and there were novels everywhere. On second look, I saw a few nonfiction books as well, and most of them had some strange form of improvised bookmark sticking out of them—ribbons and socks, a plastic fork in one case.
There was an electric kettle sitting on the counter of the kitchenette, and that’s where Hunter headed. He flipped the switch, turning it on, and pulled a mug from the cupboard. “Coffee?”
“No,” I said. “But a nice big cup full of explanations sure would hit the spot.”
He set the mug down. “Explanations? You’re the liesmith. Aren’t you supposed to have everything figured out, have everyone’s number called?”
I wrinkled my eyebrows. Liesmith, like a locksmith? I met Hunter’s dark eyes and shook my head in frustration. Hot boys who speak in riddles. Lovely. My hair was damp with sweat, and I just wanted answers and a bath. “Everyone keeps calling me that, but I have no idea what it means. And I have no idea what the hell just happened, either, for the record.”
“Clearly,” he said. He turned away from the counter and crossed his arms over his chest, staring down at me. He towered over me, and I felt even shorter than usual—which was saying something, since even Mom was taller than I was. “You don’t even know yourself.”
“I know myself. I’m just not too up to speed with where the whole shadow monsters and shooting fire missiles from your hand parts come in. So, you know, elaboration would be nice.”
Steam rose from the kettle behind him, and he shook his head at me.
“Hounds,” he said. “Charmer Hounds. They come from nowhere, out of nothing. That’s what they are: an absence.”
“The absence of what?”
For
a second it looked like he might answer, but then he looked away from me. A second later he turned to scoop a few spoonfuls of instant coffee into his mug. “You’ll be stuck here for the next few hours,” he said over his shoulder. “Won’t be safe to go back out for a while. Maybe until after sunrise. Direct light wears those things down. They’ll be tracking my signature until then at the least, and the traces of it are all over you. You should grab a shower.”
Traces of his ‘signature’ all over me, like this stuff left stains.
“A shower.”
“Yeah, that’s that thing where you stand under a tap and—”
“You’re a comedic genius.”
“Aren’t I, though? It’s a shame there isn’t someone around to appreciate my golden wit more often.”
I glanced in the direction of the darkened bathroom and frowned. A shower was tempting. I reeked of sweat (running was so below me) and booze. But I didn’t want to leave the room—like if I looked away from him he’d evaporate into the air and turn into a ghost, taking all of the answers with him.
He must have sensed something, since when he spoke again, it was to reassure me. “When you get out, I’ll answer all of your questions.” He held up his right hand. “Scout’s honour.”
“Oh, I know you will.” I said. “I plan on tying you down if I have to.”
“That’s hot.”
I looked back at him, but he was still facing away from me. My fists clenched at my sides and I relented. “Whatever, fire boy. But if you’re gone when I get out, I’ll find you, and I’ll kick your ass.”
I walked into the bathroom door and slammed it so hard it shook in its frame.
~
This was the nicest bathroom I’d ever seen. The shower was big enough to house a family of fifteen, and the overhead lights were so bright I was blinded for a second after I flipped them on. I sat on the edge of the bathtub and buried my face in my knees.
Falling apart in front of anybody else was not an option. I couldn’t remember a time when I’d allowed myself to cry in front of another person—even my mother—since I was seven or eight. Boys don’t cry—she’d drilled that one into me. It was really just me, though; letting people see my weakness wasn’t in my nature. I certainly wasn’t going to have a nervous breakdown in front of some stranger. But in the privacy of the bathroom, I let myself fall apart a little bit.
I squeezed my eyes shut, refusing to cry, and dragged in deep breaths. This was all a lot to process.
“I’m fine,” I told myself.
I felt heat tingle across my forehead, like the burning tip of a cigarette held inches from my skin, and winced. A tight ball of acid rose in my throat, and I choked on it. I couldn’t even lie to myself.
“Okay, so, I’m not fine.” But I wasn’t the only one who mattered. And I had bigger problems right now.
My mouth felt dry and scratchy, so I rinsed it out with water from the tap, and then started the shower running while I undressed and pulled stuff out of my pockets. I left my last three cherry cigars on the counter near the sink, along with my wallet, but once I was undressed I grabbed my phone and dialed Riley’s number with baited breath. This was a normal occurrence.
Not the fucking monsters, obviously, but us calling each other after everything goes to hell. Times where she needs to tell me she didn’t knock out somebody’s lights or get arrested for trespassing (she liked exploring places she was supposed to keep out of), and times where I need to tell her my mom didn’t hold me down and put out her cigarette on my arms or smash a bottle on my head (these things have happened). Times where I need to tell her I didn’t leave my mother to choke to death on her own vomit, even if I considered it, for just a tiny sliver of a second.
Times where we don’t say anything, even—just sit on opposite ends of the phone breathing, being there. I had a feeling tonight wouldn’t be one of those times.
On the third ring she picked up. “Where the hell are you?”
“Where am I? Where are you?”
“Penn got me out of there, her car was around the corner. Tell me you’re okay.”
I pressed the phone closer to my ear. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine—”
The lie hurt.
“God dammit. Thank hell.”
“—but I have to go.”
“What?” There was a scratchy sound, like she was moving, and then she was back. “Where are you?”
Before I could answer something shifted, and Penn came on the other end sounding shaken. “Sky where the hell are you?” she demanded, and before I could answer, “Do you need me to come and get you?”
I thought of Penn going back outside where those things were, and my blood turned to ice in my veins. “No,” I said. “God, no. Go home and stay inside. Spend the night at Riley’s if you have to, just don’t go back out tonight. Those things—”
“I know.”
I paused. “You. . .you know? How much do you know?”
There was a second of silence, and I heard Penn swallow. “A lot.” She admitted. “I’ll explain everything, Sky, I promise. I never meant—”
I cut her off. “It’s whatever, Penn. And I will take you up on that explanation later—but right now I have to go. Just stay inside, okay?”
“We will.”
I hung up the phone and stared at it for a minute.
“I’m not fine,” I told myself. “And this is so not whatever.”
The ringing pain in my head, centered between my eyes, faded. I blinked and drew in a deep breath, the edge of the tub freezing on my naked skin.
The steam from the running shower had filled up the room, turning everything hazy and thick like my thoughts, hard to process. I breathed in the thick vapor and stared at the pale floor tiles.
I’d always known the world wasn’t normal—I mean hell, when you’re a human lie detector you kind of figure there’s more to life than meets the eye.
But it was one thing to know it and another to see it.
Hunter had said he’d explain everything. I saw him in my mind, the gleam of his dark eyes, the crackle of fire in his palm before he tossed it at the Hound. He was part of all of this. Those men at the club had been after him. And for some reason Jackson—Jackson who looked normal and yet had smacked one of the Hounds across the room with his bare hands—had protected him. Or at least tried to.
Why? And how did I fit into this? Jackson had wanted to hire me for a job, and Hunter had been there at the same time to ask for something else—in the office it seemed like he’d been trying to continue a conversation from earlier.
And both of them had called me liesmith. Like it was something they knew, something they’d seen before.
Like I might not be the only one.
And that, that was the million dollar fucking question I’d been asking myself since I was just a tiny thing. Am I the only one?
I’d never met someone with a gift like mine. Drunk girls telling me they were totally psychic at house parties while I held their hair back as they tried (and inevitability failed) not to barf didn’t count. Not that I went to many house parties. You got cut out of those merry scenes pretty early when your hot party trick turned into a source of drama and awkwardness.
I kept my eyes fixed on that patch of tile as I turned over all the possibilities of this in my mind, all the things it might mean. What if I wasn’t the only one with a talent for the truth out there? What if all my life while I’d been thinking I was a sideshow act there’d been someone else out there with the same ability the entire time?
I looked at the closed door. Somewhere on the other side Hunter was waiting to give me the answers I’d been thinking I might never get. Once I was done here, there would be no going back.
I was ready for that, I think. Ready to go over the edge.
Slowly, I got up and climbed into the shower. I let the hot water pour over me and tried to prepare myself for everything to change.
SHAPE THE WORLD
He had been disappointed
so many times before, and now, this. “Where is he?”
The Vampire jumped when his fist hit the table, and he swung his arm, knocking away glasses and bottles. They hit the floor and exploded into shards, catching on the skin of his legs, cutting him through his trousers. If they had the boy, blood wouldn’t be welling now on his skin; the glass wouldn’t be strong enough to cut him.
Still, the pain sharpened his mind.
Surrounded by vipers and vulnerability, the only thing to do was try again. Giving up the chase was no option at all. His eyes gleamed as he watched the cowering young immortal before him.
Shadows of Ourselves Page 4