River of Shadows

by Karina Halle

  I glance at her. Her interest is piqued again. “I don’t know. This man was wearing a suit. The other one was wearing a long coat. I think.”

  “A suit?” she exclaims, pressing her fingers into the table. “Since when do you go after men in suits?”

  “Since never,” I say. It’s true. I have a very specific type. Black leather jackets, boots, white t-shirts, tattoos, maybe a bit of eyeliner. Matt fits the description to a T. This man did not.

  But maybe my type’s been wrong this whole time.

  “I think you dodged a bullet there, Lenore,” she says. “Men in suits don’t usually go for girls with tattoos. Believe me, I know.”

  She’s probably right. It’s not like I’m covered head-to-toe, but I have a lot for someone my age. My parents have tattoos and they’ve always been strangely encouraging toward me getting them. And as long as I ruminate on what I want and what they mean to me, making sure it’s something special, they’ve even given me the money to do it. I know it’s pretty rare to have that kind of support, so I’ve definitely run with it. Tattoos and jewelry, those are my trademarks.

  Matt comes back with our drinks, pulling me out of my head for a moment. We make a toast to the semester almost being done. Matt went to Stanford for one year, met his start-up buddies, and dropped out (which seems to be the popular thing to do around here), but he still sympathizes. Then Elle tells him all about my supposed stalker and the hot guy in the suit, and I swear I see his jaw tighten a little, like the fact that I showed an interest in another guy bothers him.

  But I don’t dwell on that too much. The more I think about our relationship, the weirder it gets. Better to just take it at face value.

  We end up staying at The Cloister for a couple of hours, until I’m pretty buzzed. But I know I need to do some studying tomorrow, so I don’t want to be totally hungover.

  “I’m going to go,” I say, grabbing my purse and sliding out of the bench.

  Matt reaches out and grabs my wrist. “Wait,” he says. “I’ll walk you.”

  I give him a quick smile, taking my wrist back. “I’m fine. I’m going to get an Uber. Don’t worry.”

  I wave goodbye to Elle and head toward the door, but Matt is hot on my trail.

  “Don’t fuck him, Lenore!” Elle yells after us. “You can do better.”

  Matt gives her an incredulous look over his shoulder. “Hey, thanks.”

  I can’t help but laugh, waving her away. Way to make things awkward, Elle.

  “I’ll be fine,” I tell him as we step out into the night. The fog seems to have thickened, the air damp, but all the spookiness is gone thanks to the crowds of people in the back garden and heading down the path.

  I stop at the side of the road and take out my phone, opening the app. Matt stands beside me, hovering.

  I steal a glance at him. “I’m fine. Really. No need to babysit me.”

  “I’m not babysitting you,” he says. “I’m looking out for you. If you really do have a stalker…”

  “I don’t. The more I think about it, the more I think I’m being paranoid. As you always used to say.” I nod at the church. “Go back inside. Don’t leave Elle by herself.”

  “You know she’s fine,” he says. “But you’re not.”

  Then, before I can move, he reaches out, cupping my face in his hands and kissing me.

  Ah, fuck. Elle was on to something, wasn’t she? She picks up on shit that I don’t. I figured Matt was drunk, but I didn’t think he was this kind of drunk.

  I press my fingers into his chest and push him back. “Stop,” I say quietly, licking my lips. My red lipstick is on his face.

  “Sorry I…” He shakes his head, running his hand through his hair. “I just think we could start over.”

  I manage a sympathetic smile, not liking where this is going. “You have a girlfriend, Matt.”

  “I don’t have to have a girlfriend.”

  My expression turns withering. “If you’re hoping that sounds romantic, it doesn’t. Come on, man. You’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “And I don’t know what you want,” he says sharply. “Do you even know?”

  I blink at him, taken aback. Matt is always so mild-mannered and chill, this is the first time I’ve seen him get cross with me.

  “What are you getting at?”

  He takes a step toward me, dark eyes glinting in the streetlight.

  “I’m getting at you,” he says. “I don’t know you at all. You never let anyone in. You don’t even know yourself.”

  I feel my cheeks burn, hating how his words are making me feel. “Go back inside, Matt,” I manage to say. “Before you say something even more stupid.”

  He stares at me for a moment before he lets out a huff of air and turns around, heading past the bouncer until he disappears into the dark.

  Shit, what the hell has gotten into him?

  With trembling fingers, I manage to get an Uber, only a minute away. It pulls up, and I slide into the back, trying to get some sense into my head. It was such a strange night anyway, but to have Matt get all weird at the end really pushed it over the edge.

  But I’m not so concerned with what he wants from me. He was drunk.

  I’m toiling over what he said.

  That no one can get close to me.

  That I don’t even know myself.

  Because he’s right.

  And I hate that he sees that in me, and that he used it against me.

  I sigh and lean back against the seat. It sucks, but I think it’s probably for the best if I don’t see Matt for a while. Let him get his head on straight.

  The ride to my apartment is only ten minutes and I get the Uber to drop me off on Laguna Street. Though the shops and bars of Hayes Street are just blocks away, the neighborhood is dark and quiet as usual. But I’m so lost in my head, I can’t be bothered to be spooked.

  I cross the road and go to my door, my parents’ door right next to it. My parents actually live above me. They own the whole row house, and had it split into two residences when I graduated high school. I had the choice to live on campus, and they’d rent this out, or stay here. As much as I wanted to experience the college lifestyle, this apartment is so much cooler than a dorm, and my parents totally leave me alone. For the most part.

  I fumble for my keys in my purse, glancing up at their place above. It’s nearly midnight and the lights are all off, my parents fast asleep. They tend to get up at four in the morning, for reasons I’ve never understood. As for me, I never sleep much. My brain won’t turn off.

  I take my keys out when I feel a presence behind me.

  I gasp, my eyes going wide, the hair at the back of my neck standing on end.

  I wrap my fingers around the keys, making a fist, prepared to whirl around and stab the attacker in the eye.

  “Lenore Warwick?” a man’s smooth voice says from behind me.

  I pause, then turn around.

  There’s a man standing on the curb. Tall, long dark coat, the shadows too deep to make out his face.

  For a moment I think it’s the man from the bar, but I already know it’s not.

  My stalker, however, that’s another story.

  “Who’s asking?” I say, my voice shaking a little, my fist tight around the keys.

  “Forgive me,” he says, stepping forward until he’s in the dim light of my front window, his face emerging from the shadows. “But I’ve been looking for you for quite some time.”

  Acknowledgments

  * * *

  I’m not going to lie. Out of the seventy books I’ve written, this was one of the—if not the—hardest books I’ve ever had to write. Which is funny, because this story has been on my brain since 2013. 2013! That’s a long time to be thinking about a book, even for me.

  Being half Finnish, I always wanted to do a fantasy that tackled their unique and macabre mythology, but back then I figured it would be a YA book. After all, in 2013, YA fantasy is what was
selling and adult fantasy, especially sexy adult fantasy, wasn’t much of a thing. And that was fine with me, I could tone it down and make it friendly for a younger audience. My agent was excited about the idea too, and I always had this project in the back of my mind, waiting for a slice of time to come along where I could write it.

  That time never came. Every year I emailed my agent and asked her what my prospects were and she would cautiously encourage me, but I kept putting it to the side, trying to find space in my life that I could devote to a fantasy that would take up tons of world-building time and writing time. After all, though I’ve done horror romance and paranormal romance and urban fantasy, high fantasy was something totally new to me (though it had always been a bucket list writing goal, thanks to the Piers Anthony novels I devoured when younger). I wasn’t sure how I’d tackle it and how long it would take. The challenge seemed daunting.

  Until my father passed away suddenly in September 2021, just two months after my brother died. I was thrown into the deepest depths of grief (and still am). Because the death of Hanna’s father was always the catalyst for this book, I finally felt that perhaps now I was ready to write this book. After all, I would have done absolutely ANYTHING to get my father back, including going to the Realm of the Dead, and now I could sadly relate to everything single thing that Hanna was going through. I felt her grief intimately and it gave the story validity.

  On top of that, I personally had a few things to say to Death, things to reckon with, things that I know I’ll never understand. If only Death was a sexy god in the underworld who would barter with me in exchange for having my family members back. But the Death we know isn’t like that. Which is why it was cathartic, and at times fun, to write him differently, to make him someone whom which you could perhaps trade your soul to or reason with.

  So of course, the deaths in my family made finally writing this book make all the sense in the world. It didn’t make it easier, no my brain feels permanently rewritten from all the loss and sorrow. But it made me ready.

  Naturally I have lots of people to thank during this most trying of times.

  Kathleen Tucker, Sandra Cortez, Ali Hymer, and Kelly St-Laurent—thank you for being my cheerleaders. To all my readers and friends, especially those on IG and my beloved Anti-Heroes on Facebook, thank you for your excitement for this book and your love.

  Stephanie Brown, thank you for your belief in this book, and to all at the Bookish Box team for being so supportive, amazing and talented! You really brought Death and Hanna to life in the most beautiful way.

  As usual, all my love and awe goes to Scott Mackenzie (and Bruce), who had to witness the making of this book during the following: the hardships of the first birthday and holiday season without my beloved father and brother, through a beautiful but stressful, snow-packed New Year, through a road-trip we hadn’t done since before Covid, which included driving on the I-5 in Washington through historic floods, a night in Newport, Oregon that turned into five plus an emergency visit to the animal hospital in Corvalis (Bruce is fine!), eight hours on the 101 heading south while trying to find Tesla charging stations in the redwoods and writing in the car, plus finishing up the book during an all-nighter which culminated with me turning it in at six am in Healdsburg, California. Where I am currently, drinking Sonoma wine and writing these acknowledgements, fully looking forward to the future adventures of Hanna and Death.

  Laura Helseth and Chanpreet Singh, you may be mortal, but you are Gods to me! Thank you for going above and beyond for this book, my gratitude towards you knows no bounds during this rollercoaster of an edit and I am so thankful for you and your support of me!

  Last but certainly not least, though they are no longer with us, I also want to thank my dad, Sven Halle, and my brother, Kris Halle. You were with me every step of the way. And Papa, I’m sorry this book isn’t about Norse mythology, but I’ve written plenty of books already about Norwegians—time for Mama to have something too.

  About the Author

  Karina Halle, a former screenwriter, travel writer and music journalist, is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today bestselling author of The Pact, A Nordic King, and Sins & Needles, as well as over fifty other wild and romantic reads. She, her husband, and their adopted pit bull live in a rain forest on an island off British Columbia. In the winter, you can often find them in their condo in Los Angeles, or on their beloved island of Kauai, soaking up as much sun (and getting as much inspiration) as possible. For more information, visit

  www.authorkarinahalle.com

  Also by Karina Halle

  Contemporary Romances

  Love, in English

  Love, in Spanish

  Where Sea Meets Sky (from Atria Books)

  Racing the Sun (from Atria Books)

  The Pact

  The Offer

  The Play

  Winter Wishes

  The Lie

  The Debt

  Smut

  Heat Wave

  Before I Ever Met You

  After All

  Rocked Up

  Wild Card (North Ridge #1)

  Maverick (North Ridge #2)

  Hot Shot (North Ridge #3)

  Bad at Love

  The Swedish Prince

  The Wild Heir

  A Nordic King

  Nothing Personal

  My Life in Shambles

  Discretion

  Disarm

  Disavow

  The Royal Rogue

  The Forbidden Man

  Lovewrecked

  One Hot Italian Summer

  The One That Got Away

  All the Love in the World (Anthology)

  Bright Midnight

  The Royals Next Door

  * * *

  Romantic Suspense Novels by Karina Halle

  Sins and Needles (The Artists Trilogy #1)

  On Every Street (An Artists Trilogy Novella #0.5)

  Shooting Scars (The Artists Trilogy #2)

  Bold Tricks (The Artists Trilogy #3)

  Dirty Angels (Dirty Angels #1)

  Dirty Deeds (Dirty Angels #2)

  Dirty Promises (Dirty Angels #3)

  Black Hearts (Sins Duet #1)

  Dirty Souls (Sins Duet #2)

  * * *

  Horror Romance

  Darkhouse (EIT #1)

  Red Fox (EIT #2)

  The Benson (EIT #2.5)

  Dead Sky Morning (EIT #3)

  Lying Season (EIT #4)

  On Demon Wings (EIT #5)

  Old Blood (EIT #5.5)

  The Dex-Files (EIT #5.7)

  Into the Hollow (EIT #6)

  And With Madness Comes the Light (EIT #6.5)

  Come Alive (EIT #7)

  Ashes to Ashes (EIT #8)

  Dust to Dust (EIT #9)

  Ghosted (EIT #9.5)

  Came Back Haunted (EIT #10)

  In the Fade (EIT #11)

  The Devil’s Duology

  Donners of the Dead

  Veiled (Ada Palomino #1)

  Song For the Dead (Ada Palomino #2)

  Black Sunshine (Dark Eyes Duet #1)

  The Blood is Love (Dark Eyes Duet #2)

  Nightwolf

  River of Shadows (Underworld Gods #1)

  God of Death (Underworld Gods #0.5)

  Crown of Crimson (Underworld Gods #2)