Shadows Grow

by Kara Jaynes

  The thought makes me smile until I remember Father is still watching me, and I school my face to stillness.

  “How does your mission on Earth, go?” Father asks.

  “Good, sir,” I reply. “The humans still resist but on a smaller scale. We recently captured two gang leaders who were causing trouble for us as well as for the common people. They are in prison and are being questioned.” Humanely, of course. We don’t hold with the notion of torture unless it’s a vampire. Humans are too weak to undergo Quariitium, at any rate.

  “And the state of the planet itself?” Father presses. His gaze is still focused, but his shoulders have relaxed visibly. Mother is running her fingers through his long, black hair, and he’s clearly distracted.

  I hesitate. I’m not sure how to respond to the next question in a way that will make things sound like they’re doing well.

  But I must be honest. I can’t properly take care of the earth if I am not straightforward in its progression, or lack thereof. “She is still dying,” I say. “I am searching for humans with innate magic, but there are not many of them.” Not anymore. The magic was stronger before the humans’ technological age, beginning in the late 1800s, onward. Magic was touted as the stuff of nonsense. People quit believing in it, to their detriment.

  Father doesn’t respond. His eyes are still locked on mine. “Progress has been rather slow on Earth,” he finally says. “You’ve been there for five years.”

  I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry. “I am trying, Father.”

  “He is trying,” Mother says, and she frowns at Father, her slim form still settled on an armrest of his chair. “Don’t be mean, Aldriek. This is his first serious mission, and you know as well as anyone that good things take time. He needs to plan and carry things out. You can’t expect him to wave his hand, and poof, have everything perfect.”

  Father’s gaze switches to that of his mate. She’s looking quite earnestly up at him, and I can see a smile tugging at his mouth. It’s gone, of course, before it can turn into a real smile, but it’s still amusement. Mother has that effect on him.

  “Besides,” Mother goes on, “I think Eldaren is sweet on someone.”

  My blood turns to ice. I swallow again, and master every inch of myself. No reaction. No movement. No emotion. “Mother is telling stories, again.”

  “Eldaren!” Mother swivels around to eye me sternly. “You said you liked someone.”

  “Truthfully,” I reply coldly, “I did no such thing.”

  Father is watching me again, though whatever he thinks is a mystery to me. “You only brought a handful of female elves with you to Earth,” he says. A faint line mars his brow. “Miska?”

  I hesitate. Miska would make a good cover-up, despite her senior age. If we were humans, that would only put her maybe five or ten years ahead of me, age-wise. “I don’t have time for romance, Father.” Truth. “But if the Kenelky sparks between Miska and me, you’ll be the first to know.” Also true. Because it’d be the first anomaly of its kind to happen. The Kenelky can ignite more than once, but only if a mate dies, first. That had been the case with Father.

  Father tilts his head, then nods. “She’s older than you, true,” he says, “but she has a good head on her shoulders. She isn’t prone to ongoing—” he grimaces faintly, “—irrational fancies.”

  Mother squawks indignantly, but Father looks at me, the corners of his lips twitching again. He enjoys teasing Mother, but to be fair, she’s constantly trying to crack his emotionless mask.

  “Despite our discussion some time ago on the matter, I do not plan to develop a bond with an elven woman at this time,” I say carefully. I inhale and exhale softly. “I need to focus all of my available time on healing this planet.”

  Father nods. “Very well, then.” He eyes Mother blandly. “He would probably do a better job of things if you weren’t always bothering him to come visit you.”

  Emerald eyes flash up at him. “I am not a bother,” she says hotly, “I am his mother. And he will continue to visit me, or I will go to him.”

  “If that is all,” I say with a respectful bow to Father, “I shall retire to my rooms. I may be visiting, but I still plan to work.”

  Father nods. “That is good. I admire hard workers, my son. It’s a commendable trait, and one you’d be wise to adopt.”

  I bow again, this time to hide my wince. I’ve done nothing but work since I’ve been assigned to Earth, but Father isn’t there to see it. He only remembers my adolescent years. Years I wasted, chasing after my personal interests.

  But I’m not the wild, impetuous youth I used to be. I’ve grown. I’ve matured.

  My brain is also hopelessly addled by a human girl, but I may very well die before telling my parents.

  They wouldn’t understand.

  Well, Mother might not care. She’s very enthusiastic about following one’s dreams and eternal loves, but Father will. He’s already told me it’s impossible for the Kenelky to work on a human, and he doesn’t like to be proved wrong.

  “Until tomorrow.” I turn away and leave the study.

  I head up a small flight of stairs and open a door that’s just off the landing—my old quarters. I inhale deeply. It smells of dust and books. That’s no surprise. The walls on either side of the entry are lined with shelves, filled with books, and more shelves can be found in the remaining chambers of my quarters as I walk further back. I’ve always been a reader, and it’s something I admire very much in Stella. She’s always trying to expand her knowledge. It’s an admirable characteristic in anyone, but I adore it in her.

  Is she all right? Was it foolish of me to leave her? Yes, it probably was, but Mother was about to come down herself, and I can’t allow that. This is a risk I had to take.

  Sol and Geldyn are at the base, however, and a guard patrols the hall outside of her rooms every night, not to mention the guards stationed on the grounds.

  She’ll be safe.

  30

  Stella

  Wilder and I leave the underground market. It’s getting close to dawn, which doesn’t make the tent community above us any safer. But Wilder makes it abundantly clear that I’m safe with him, so worry for my safety trickles away, replaced with a new concern.

  Have the elves discovered I’m missing?

  I don’t know. I can’t know, not until I get back to the base. But it won’t be long now. We emerge from the tunnel, and we’re back at Journey’s Stop. With the hour drawing close to what I guess is four in the morning, more shapes are beginning to move around camp, voices murmuring inside tents as people start their day.

  I shy away and walk a little closer to Wilder.

  My once-boyfriend lifts his head, sniffing the air. “It’s almost dawn,” he says. “We need to hurry, or you’ll have to come stay with me at my place, today. He grins at me in an almost lazy air. “I wouldn’t mind.”

  I eye him sternly. “You will if the elves tear down half the city looking for me.”

  “Do they really like you that much?” Wilder asks the question airily, but I can see the curiosity in his gaze. Curiosity, and something else. A flicker of emotion that is carefully tucked away. I can’t place it.

  I shrug noncommittally. “They have Quinn,” I say. “I should probably be on my best behavior.”

  “Ah. So all we need to do is get Quinn out,” Wilder muses. His strides are long, and he moves fast; it’s all I can do to keep up with him.

  “It’s not that simple,” I pant. “Remember? Quinn has magic, and he needs to learn how to use it. The elves are teaching him.”

  Wilder’s gaze slants sideways at me, and he doesn’t respond right away. “That’s not the Quinn I know,” he says, after a moment’s thought.

  “You don’t believe me?” I say with a breath-stripped huff.

  “I didn’t say that,” Wilder protests, “I just don’t trust the elves. And I don’t trust them to have you or your brother’s best interests at heart.” But I do.

  H
e doesn’t say it, but I can feel the unspoken words. Wilder cares for me, and he thinks he can take care of me.

  And I want to let him do that. My heart aches for the past, for the future we almost had. I still have the little false diamond ring he gave me, safely tucked away in my room.

  The rain is coming down harder, the sound a steady pitter-patter as it hits me, Wilder, the pavement, the rooftops. I find the sound comforting, even as the wet leaves me cold and shivering.

  Wilder sniffs the air again. “I will carry you,” he says with a frown. “We’ll cover ground much more quickly that way.”

  I nod, my body trembling harder when Wilder’s alabaster arms go around me, lifting me, cradling me to his chest. My heartbeat roars in my ears, every inch of me aware of how close I am to him. I snuggle in close, smelling his hoodie. I’ll never tire of his scent.

  Wilder chuckles and breaks into a run, his legs eating up the distance in moments. I close my eyes, the book clutched to my chest as I lock away this moment forever. My time spent with Wilder hasn’t been nearly enough. I need more.

  Does Wilder really love me? Truly? And regardless of his feelings, do I love him?

  I already know the answer to that.

  I never stopped loving him. Not ever. Not once. Not even when the fog of the Kenelky crashes over me, muddling my thoughts and actions. Because that is all my attraction to Eldaren is, right? Some bizarre elf magic I can’t explain.

  Elven magic you can’t deny for long.

  I shiver again, and Wilder’s hold tightens momentarily. “We’re almost there,” he murmurs.

  The moment the words leave his lips, Wilder slows, and I think we’ve reached the base. But when I turn my head, looking outward, I find we’re not. Close, but not there.

  “Why did you stop?”

  Wilder doesn’t answer. He’s smelling the air again, his nostrils flared, his red eyes wide as he peers around.

  “Did they find us?” I ask, alarm burning through me. What if the elves tracked us?

  A figure slips out of the alley across the street from us. His hair is blond and cut short, the ends spiky. For a heart-stopping moment, I think it’s Sol, but then I realize this figure is shorter and bulkier. His t-shirt is snug around bulging muscles, and despite the rain, this figure isn’t wearing a coat. His shirt and jeans are soaked.

  He stalks closer, and with a growl, Wilder sets me down and pushes me behind him. “Run,” he whispers harshly.

  I stumble back, heart thudding painfully. I blink rainwater from my eyes. “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  Peering at the approaching figure, I see his eyes.

  His very red eyes.

  My stomach lurches in fear. What do I do? Run. Wilder told me to run. An excellent plan, except my legs won’t move.

  “Stella,” Wilder hisses, not looking back at me, his gaze locked on the man before us, “if this man spills your blood, I won’t be able to hold back. Do you understand?”

  I stare at him stupidly. “I think so?” I don’t. Hold back?

  Oh.

  Vampires.

  The figure is still several feet away from us.

  Until he isn’t.

  With a shriek, the figure is suddenly inches away from me; his hands extended, claw-like as they reach for me, his mouth open to expose fangs. I don’t even have time to flinch.

  Wilder shoulders him roughly, pushing the other man—the other vampire, off course, so the man stumbles past me.

  Then they’re fighting. Growls emit from both men like animals. Wilder is tearing, pushing, biting, snarling. He’s gone from a gentleman to a complete beast in less than a second. I step backward, a whimper bubbling up in my throat.

  “I need it,” the stranger shrieks. “Give me her blood!”

  Wilder lunges forward, and they both fall to the ground. “Get out, Stella!” he shouts out at me. “Get—out—of—here!”

  His words jolt me back into movement, and with steps that feel sluggish compared to the lightning-fast clawing and kicking of the two vampires, I sprint down a side street. The rain picks up in its intensity, and water splashes with every step I take.

  Another whine chokes me. Is Wilder okay? Why am I running? I should go back.

  But what if he’s already dead, and the strange vampire is looking for me?

  He might kill me. Or turn me. I’m not sure which alternative is worse.

  Fear pumps my legs, and I run until I’m at the entrance to the base. I stand outside the gate, gulping air.

  Wilder is safe. Wilder is safe. Wilder is safe.

  I’m drenched from head to toe and shivering uncontrollably when I reach up and touch the handle of the gate. It’s locked, but I know they’ve placed wards on it to alert them if anyone makes contact with it.

  Within moments, an elf appears. He’s there so suddenly that I realize he probably saw me arrive.

  “P-please,” I say, my teeth chattering violently. “Let me in.” I’m still holding the book, and only now it occurs to me that I should protect it from the rain. I slip it under my jacket.

  “Stella.” I hear a flicker of surprise in the elf’s voice. “What are you doing out here?”

  It’s Geldyn. His brown hair hangs limply, dripping rainwater. I’m not surprised to see him on guard duty. He and Sol are both assigned to patrolling the grounds some of the time, though I don’t believe that is the extent of their duties. Out of all the elves in the base, Geldyn and Sol seem to be the two that Eldaren trusts the most.

  “I went for a walk,” I reply with a trembling smile. Stars, it’s cold. The wet, chill, and fear have worked their way to the bone, and I can’t stop shaking.

  Geldyn’s face is impassive as he unlocks the gate and opens it, allowing me to pass.

  “What are you holding?” he says as I step inside. It’s a question, but it sounds like a demand. The elves are used to obedience.

  “A book,” I snap, holding it up. “What does it look like?”

  “Why did you go for a walk, Stella?” He doesn’t raise his voice, his accent pleasant to listen to, even in the frigid rain.

  “To find something,” I say vaguely. I resume walking, ready to get indoors.

  Geldyn pulls the crystal comm from his belt and speaks into it. “Lutayne,” he says. “Take over the post at the front gate for the remainder of my watch. No, I won’t be back. I have something urgent to see to.” All said with the emotion of a rock.

  “I know the way from here,” I say, and frown when Geldyn grips me just above the elbow.

  “I will escort you to your room,” he says firmly, and I sigh inwardly and resign myself to my fate. I know firsthand that there’s no escape from this particular elf.

  We walk through the now-familiar halls and up the stairs and down more halls before stopping outside the door that leads to my bedroom. A guard strides down the hall toward us, his brown eyes widening when he sees me.

  “Thandin,” Geldyn speaks. His voice sounds calm to me, but the other elf pauses mid-stride. “Did you see Stella leave her room last night?”

  The other elf swallows, trying to hide his nervousness. “No, I did not. I believed she was in her room.”

  “I see.” Geldyn’s expression doesn’t change. “How curious. Did you leave your post at all?”

  “No.”

  Geldyn’s gaze flicks to me. “Even more curious.”

  I glower sullenly back, painfully aware I probably look like a half-drowned rat. Is Wilder okay? I hope he’s okay. I hope he’ll come back to me, so that I will know. I have to know he’s all right. Now that the fear and instinct for immediate survival has faded, my concern for Wilder begins to grow. But he’s a vampire. There isn’t any reason he has any less chance of being killed as the stranger who attacked us.

  But I still worry.

  Geldyn opens the door, snapping me out of my anxious thoughts. We step into my room.

  The window is open, the way I’d left it. The sill and carpet around it is slippery wet with rain.
I hunch my shoulders and smile weakly at Geldyn. “It’s no crime to climb out a window.”

  “It is for you.” Geldyn strides forward and closes the window with a sharp click “I’m going to have a lock installed on it.”

  “No,” I blurt out, but he’s already waved a hand at the other elf, and Thandin is gone, no doubt to pass orders to make that happen.

  “You can’t do that,” I snarl, anger heating my skin. “You can’t shut me in here like some sort of pet.”

  “From what I’ve seen, you are a pet,” Geldyn says coolly. “An unruly one who keeps trying to escape.”

  “Well, I came back,” I said, flinging an arm toward the door. “You saw me. I walked right up to the gate, you dunderhead. I didn’t have to do that if I was trying to run away.”

  “Why did you use the window?” Geldyn flips my words. “If you weren’t trying to avoid the elves, why not leave with an escort? And where,” Geldyn continues, his beautiful eyes narrowing slightly, “did you go?”

  I stand there gaping at him, frantically trying to think of a suitable excuse that doesn’t bring Wilder into this. I know that wouldn’t go over well.

  “I… needed to find some important information,” I said at last. “And I didn’t want elves getting in the way.”

  “In the way of what?”

  I wave the book in his face. “In the way of getting this information for Eldaren.”

  Geldyn snatches the book out of my hand so fast I don’t even see the movement. I scowl at him. “Give it back. I bought that with my own money.”

  “What kind of information?” he presses.

  “Stars, you’re annoying,” I say. I fold my arms and stare up at him defiantly. “You’re not the prince, Geldyn. I don’t answer to you.”

  The faintest hint of a smile plays on his mouth. I have to hand it to him. Even soaked to the bone, he’s a looker. “No?” he says. “Well, unfortunately for you, Eldaren left me in charge of security, so yes, little pet, you do answer to me.” His lack of emotion doesn’t change, but he takes a step closer, looming over me. “Why did you leave without our knowledge, and what information were you looking for?”