Twinned Shadow (The Shadow Series Book 1)

by Candice Bundy

  “I have what I came for,” he growled. “Yet you are such a disappointment.”

  Tesse tried to scream, yet no sound escaped from under his vice-like grip. Keeping her pinned with one hand, he slashed his other hand across her neck and shoulder. Sharp claws ripped through her neck, followed by a warm river of blood gushing out in time with her heartbeat. Each breath burned in agony.

  A mumbled cadence spilled forth from his mouth, but Tesse couldn’t make sense of it. Couldn’t focus long enough to work her magic. Her pain was all consuming.

  His was no magic she recognized. With every syllable he uttered, she felt further separated from her body until her spirit ripped free from her dying flesh.

  Chapter 2

  Becka hesitated to knock on Dr. Traut’s office door despite his receptionist’s assurance that he was awaiting her arrival. Her stomach flipped, and she had to take a deep breath to steady her nerves. She gripped the strap to her coffee-colored leather backpack like a lifeline. If she didn’t get this job, she knew her prospects of finding another place open to a fae-touched employee would be slim.

  Or none.

  This rare opportunity with the Institute of World Politics could be the stepping-stone she needed to open the doors for diplomatic roles down the road, her dream position. But all fae were held to impossibly high standards, especially in fields like academia. She didn’t have her hopes set high.

  Just then, an all-human group passed by her in the hallway, muttering under their breaths and casting her sideways glances. She caught a low “doesn’t she know they lost the war?” whispered deliberately too loud. “She should go back home before someone reminds her,” another added.

  Becka felt the question like a hit to her solar plexus. We know. No human ever lets us forget.

  The Great War harkened back to the time of her great-grandparents. Humans won. Fae lost. Shifters were the conscientious objectors. The history she’d learned in both fae and human classes had been fuzzy on the details. Since then, all fae, upon being declared guilded, were conscripted for two years of civil service to whichever human government oversaw their territory. After that time humans required them to live on fae lands, entering human cities only with the proper visas and work permits.

  The students disdain to her fae-touched presence only emboldened Becka. She had a mission: become a part of fixing the future. If that didn’t work, she’d at least connect with other like-minded souls along the journey. She clenched her jaw, the tension running down her neck and shoulders, and rapped on the door. A quick, muffled voice from within beckoned her to enter.

  She entered the small office where Dr. Traut, the Director of the Interspecies Department, sat talking on the phone in excited tones. The entirety of his wizened, willowy frame seemed to vibrate in excitement. His tweed suit hung one size too large for his frame. He nodded at her arrival, his smile contagious. He held up a finger to her showing he’d only be a moment and then motioned for Becka to take a seat.

  “I’m so honored you‘ve accepted one of my staff for this fellowship with your house,” Traut said, the creases around his cheeks and eyes deepening. “Yes, I’ll shoot you over the paperwork immediately. Thank you again for this opportunity, Elder Elian of House Blackthorn.”

  He hung up the phone and then sprung from his chair, punching his fist towards the sky. “Yes!” His unkempt crown of wiry white hair undulated as if underwater.

  Becka forced a pleasant smile past her building nerves. “Good news, I take it?”

  “The best!” He sat back down, leaning forward on the edge of his seat and adjusting his horn-rimmed glasses. “I’ve been in negotiations with Blackthorn to accept a fellowship for years. They vet every candidate with excruciating detail, often disqualifying them on a whim. Finally, I matched them with one they do not find distasteful.”

  Could Dr. Traut hear how offensive his comment was to a fae-born? Becka widened her smile. “Congratulations on your accomplishment, Dr. Traut.”

  “Thank you, Becka, but we’re here to discuss your opportunities, yes?”

  “Yes, and I apologize for being a few minutes late.”

  “It’s no bother.” He waved her off and searched around his desk for something. “I have been on the phone all afternoon pinning down that fellowship, so your delay was fortuitous.” Dr. Traut pulled open the left-hand drawer and located a manila folder stuffed haphazardly with papers. He opened it and thumbed through the paperwork. “Oh, yes! Here we are, your internship application.” He scanned it, shooting her a polite smile.

  “Have you reviewed my application status?”

  “I have, that I have.” He laid the paperwork out on his desk and leaned back in his chair, looking at her over the frame of his glasses. “As you can guess, your application caused quite a stir.”

  Becka frowned. “How many times has a fae-touched applied to your department?”

  He guffawed, pointing a finger at her. “Oh, never! And not only within the department, but organization-wide.”

  “I didn‘t know.” She braced for a letdown, feeling her shoulders sag forward. If she couldn’t make this work, how could she ever achieve her goal? This felt like her one chance to become a part of something, and the possibility was hanging by a thread. “It sounds like my proposal was more progressive than I’d realized.”

  “Yes, it was. But, as they say, fortune favors the bold.” He raised an eyebrow, leaning forward in his chair to rest his elbows on the desk. “I and others felt your focus on improving cross-species understanding might bring us gains within the fae community not currently within our grasp. Also, your continuing focus on mainstreaming within human culture was seen as a strong mark in your favor.”

  “You don’t mean?” Becka leaned forward in her seat, fingertips resting on the edge of his desk.

  “Yes, you got into the program.” He beamed at her and Becka let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding. “It’s provisional, but you’re in. I’m proud to call this a veritable milestone in human-fae relations.”

  “That’s fantastic, thank you so much.” A momentary euphoric dopamine rush shot through her veins. An image of herself working with respected peers hovered just at the outer range of her internal vision. Might she finally find a fellowship where she belonged? Where they wanted her? She shook the dreams out of her head and focused on the moment. “But wait, what does it mean to be provisional?”

  “It means you’re offered the position of an intern with the Interspecies Department for one ninety-day trial period. After that time we will evaluate any continuance of the internship based upon your performance, how colleagues respond to your presence, and if there are any disciplinary issues. Also, if there are significant political shifts or fae-human altercations the Institute may find itself in an untenable position. That’s the main gist of the offer, but I encourage you to read through it.”

  Her stomach hardened as she considered the implications of his words. The provision was performance based, but it also being tied to peer feedback in an environment where her kind weren’t well tolerated was a setup for failure. Or, rather, an easy out for the organization if anyone raised too much of a stink.

  She slumped forward a bit, feeling a thickening in her throat. It wasn’t fair that people who didn’t even know her could decide her fate, but this wouldn’t be the first time. She started mentally calculating the odds of completing her trial period under such inherent prejudice, but then stopped herself.

  Becka couldn’t say any of that out loud. The only way out was to push forward and hope she’d stay under the radar. The potential of finding a group where she belonged was still possible here, just dimmer and further from view.

  “Okay, I can live with that. I won’t disappoint you.”

  “I know you won’t.” He handed her a paper-clipped document. “Here are the terms of the offer, and an agreement to surrender your position at the Institute’s request without protest.”

  Becka took the papers, sliding th
em into a pocket in her backpack. She feared if she read them now her already tenuous emotional state might send her over the edge. The last thing she needed was a crying fit.

  “Take a few days to review the offer and then let me know if you have any questions or concerns,” he replied.

  He stood up and held out his hand. “Congratulations, Becka. After years of study, community volunteering, mainstreaming, and civic action, you’ve earned every bit of this opportunity.”

  Becka rose and shook his hand. A lone tear snuck out. She couldn’t wait for the next call from Tesse to share the news over her long-fought for success.

  “Keep your head down and focus on your work and I’m sure everything will go splendidly. Now, you must excuse me, but I am late to my next engagement.” He grabbed his briefcase and ushered her out the door.

  Only to come face to face with a stocky fae-touched male in the hallway.

  “Oh my, are you waiting here for Becka?” Dr. Traut asked.

  Had Dr. Traut realized he’d raised his briefcase up in front of him as if to protect his vital organs from the unexpected fae? Considering this fae was built like a brick house, the man’s reaction to the unexpected and formidable arrival didn’t surprise her. The Great War hadn’t happened in Dr. Traut’s lifetime, and yet the generational fears of fae prowess in battle remained.

  Becka didn’t recognize the fae, but because of his short-for-a-fae, broad, and stout stature, she assumed he claimed House Oak lineage. They were almost the same height, which meant he couldn’t be over six feet tall, an oddity amongst fae men. His cropped short hair matched his eyes, which were both a burnished golden hue.

  The fae stepped forward from where he’d been leaning against the wall. He sized up Dr. Traut from head to toe, a bemused wisp of a smile curling his lips at the man’s defensive stance.

  A small crowd had gathered due to the presence of the unfamiliar fae. Becka caught the tone of the insults the humans spoke, if not the words.

  “Hello Becka. I am Quinn of House Oak.”

  How’s that for not rocking the boat, eh Dr. Traut? Becka groaned. Whatever Quinn was doing, his timing couldn’t have been any worse.

  Chapter 3

  The tenor of Quinn’s voice was deep and reassuring, although it might have been the only thing soft about him. He wore a hooded khaki jacket with enough pockets to be deemed tactical over a tailored linen shirt and fae designer jeans. She imagined how the rumbling of his words would feel uttered against the sensitive skin of her neck.

  Becka shook her head. What was wrong with her? She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this level of immediate attraction. Who was she kidding... she’d never experienced it. Here stood the first fae male she’d been around in months. Once she’d added the non-conventional pink to lavender ombre highlights to the tips of her hair, she’d scared off most of her fae borne suitors, which had kind of been the point.

  “I didn’t know you were still in contact with guilded fae?” Dr. Traut seemed to realize what he’d done with his briefcase, because he lowered it slowly back down to his side.

  Traut’s question shook Becka out of her reverie. “Uh... I haven’t been. I haven’t been a part of that world for some eight years.”

  “Look...Quinn,” she addressed the fae. “There must be some sort of misunderstanding. I don’t have any business with you or your House.”

  Dr. Traut watched Quinn for his response.

  Becka’s jaw clenched. Damn it, this fae better not jeopardize my internship!

  Quinn frowned and cocked his head to the side. “You didn’t need a ride?” he asked her, smiling with the easy bravado of a man who well understood how his charms swayed those around him.

  “No, I most certainly do not!”

  “Alright then, my apologies for the confusion. Good day, all,” Quinn replied. He turned and sauntered off, parting the seas of students who’d gathered to watch. People cleared a path for them, most with fearful looks in their eyes at the stout fae storming down their halls. One young man met Quinn’s unexpected presence with a contemptuous sneer.

  “How curious.” Dr. Traut said, looking askance at the departing Quinn. He checked his watch. “I really must be on my way. I’ll see you next week, that’s when the study starts. But you’ll see, it’s all in the paperwork. Good day to you, Becka,” Dr. Traut scurried off in the other direction.

  Becka let out a long breath. What in the worlds had that mess been about? At least Dr. Traut had dismissed it. It would have been awful for her to lose the scholarship over the off-timed arrival of a fae warrior. Even if he was yummy to look at.

  Becka used her phone to order a ride, and then walked across the campus to the ride share station. She got in the back of the one with the color matching the indicator on her screen, and the driverless vehicle pulled away from the curb.

  She stared out the window, looking at the campus where she’d soon be employed, and was surprised to see Quinn leaning against a vehicle parked along the street. He looked straight at her as she passed by. She turned around and watched him get into his car, but then her ride had turned the corner and she lost sight of his car.

  Such an odd experience. How did he know her name, and why would he offer her a ride?

  A few minutes later her vehicle pulled up in front of the townhome she shared with her Aunt Lydia. Becka slipped in the front door, dropping her keys and backpack on the table.

  At first, Becka did not understand where the distinctively familiar birdsong originated, and yet she recognized it immediately. Following the noise, she traced it into the living room where her Aunt Lydia stood peering down at the dust-covered landline phone.

  Unsure of what to make of her Aunt Lydia’s posture, Becka sidled up to her, mirroring her stance. “Are you expecting it to sprout wings and fly away?”

  Lydia rolled her eyes, her lips pursed to one side. “Of course not.”

  The mid-morning light slanted in through the bay windows at the front of the nondescript remodeled row house they shared downtown. Out on the street, a steady stream of humanity bustled by in a sea of color and variation. There were no birds outside her window, but what did she expect, living as they did in the heart of the big city? Becka hadn’t heard a flycatcher or so many of the forest songbirds she’d grown up with since she left home. The thought was bittersweet; heavy on the bitter, light on the sweet.

  Becka had lived with Lydia since they had cast her out from her guild eight years ago. An outcast from House Ash herself a decade plus longer, Lydia’s guidance in adapting to human culture had been invaluable. Her aunt had become eccentric in her middle age, wearing flowing caftans and keeping her hair in a messy ponytail bun, embracing her height and her curves without a care about others' opinions. Becka had envied Lydia’s carefree confidence before she’d grown to cherish it as a pathway to discovering her own equally unconventional style.

  Human fashion sense had eluded her, so Becka had ordered outfits based on prominent fashion magazines. All the ornate description around simple clothing items fascinated her. Who knew a flouncy skirt could free, or the color black could be elegant?

  She now wore a ‘trendy casual look for tall women with swagger’ from Boho Today magazine to prepare for her afternoon job interview. She didn’t feel the swagger yet, but the outfit included a gauzy patchwork kimono made up of muted Monet-styled swatches, skinny-pant dark brown slacks, and a moss-green satin and crochet ruffled layer tank top. Perhaps the promised swagger was a perceptual effect it caused on others, instead of how it made her feel? She’d further opted for flats instead of heels because ‘tall woman’ was an understatement with her fae-touched genes.

  The phone continued to ring, rousing her from her momentary reverie.

  “That’s the alder flycatcher’s song,” Becka said.

  “Yeah, I know. Which means it’s your dad on the other end.” Lydia’s apprehension was contagious.

  Becka nodded, rubbing her arms although it wasn’t cold. Was th
at fear or anticipation? She couldn’t quite tell. “He’s my father, not my dad. He hasn’t called in years.” Eight blissful years free of melodrama-steeped fae family drama. What had changed to prompt his call?

  “And things were going so well,” Lydia muttered. She picked up the phone. “Hello? Uh, huh? Okay.” Lydia frowned, and the golden sheen of her eyes dimmed with emotion. Becka guessed this wasn’t a social call. “One moment, Vott, she’s right here,” Lydia replied, and then held out the phone to her.

  Becka took a step back. “Tell him you were wrong and that I left,” she whispered. “Or I’m gonna be late for my interview. I dressed extra human for it!”

  Lydia eyed her outfit and gave her a quick thumbs-up. “You look sharp,” she whispered back. “And I absolutely love how the labradorite and moonstone accents in your ear piercings coordinate with your kimono jacket!”

  “I can hear you, you know,” Vott said, his voice registering loud and clear from the phone.

  Becka flinched. Of course, he could hear them. Damned fae enhanced senses.

  Lydia shrugged, and then Becka took the phone from her.

  “Hello, Vott.” Despite the years apart, the wound of being outcast had never fully healed, despite how often she’d told herself it was buried it in the past. “It’s been what, four years since we’ve spoken?”

  “My dearest Becka,” he replied, voice strained. He sounded exhausted. “I would mark it closer to five.”

  Becka took a deep breath, flooded with sudden memories and emotion. She’d been outcast eight years ago. Afterwards Vott had called only to discuss expenditures. The last time they’d talked he’d argued over her need for more schooling, but had eventually given in. For all her resentment, she missed him and this rare moment of connection served as a double-edged sword.

  “I am afraid I bear ill tidings.” For a gregarious man, his voice lacked strength. “I regret to inform you your twin, Tesse, has passed.”