Shadows

by Paula Weston

  We move through the Tuesday night crowd outside the bar, weaving around stools and wine barrels. Maggie isn’t at our usual window position. I push my way inside.

  It’s cheap sangria night, so there are plenty of girls lined up around the bar, and plenty of guys jostling to pay, including Jacques, the artist. He raises his wine glass and winks at me. It’s hard to believe that only a few days ago he was the weirdest person I knew.

  ‘—tore up by something. Deb reckons those huge feral cats are back.’

  A snatch of conversation pulls me up short.

  ‘Your sister’s full of shit.’

  ‘She bandaged him up, dickwad. I think she’d know.’

  ‘What’s Mick’s say?’

  ‘Dunno. He’s still out of it. So’s Rusty.’

  ‘Dude, if there’s something on the mountain big enough to take down those pricks, we’re all fucked.’

  I spot Maggie and Simon, huddled together at a table in the corner, near the jukebox. She’s changed into jeans and a navy polo shirt, and her hair is tied back. She startles when she sees me, rises, as if to come and meet us, but then falters. By the time we reach her, she’s just standing there, her arms wrapped around her chest.

  ‘You okay?’ I reach out and brush her arm.

  When she flinches, Simon is straight up out of his chair. ‘Get away from us before I call the cops. I should have called them already, but Mags said—’

  ‘Calm down,’ I say quietly.

  ‘Calm down?’ Simon eyes are unforgiving. ‘Those psychos wanted you, not Mags. I can’t believe you dragged her into this. It’s all your—’

  ‘Sit down and shut your mouth,’ Rafa says.

  Simon and Maggie drop back into their seats as if he’s knocked them there. Rafa takes two chairs from a nearby table and we sit down.

  ‘Those psychos locked Gabe in a cage with one of those monsters you saw tonight, so don’t fucking whine about this being her fault.’

  Maggie’s face crumples when Rafa mentions the hellion.

  ‘And you know that’s true,’ Rafa says to Simon, ‘because you saw the marks on her neck this morning, didn’t you?’

  Simon doesn’t answer, but Maggie is crying now. She finally looks at me. ‘Oh, babe, is that true?’

  I swallow the lump in my throat. ‘I am so sorry, Mags. I had no idea they would grab you—’

  She hugs me fiercely, burying her face in my neck. Her hair still smells of cherry blossom.

  Tears leak down my cheeks. I’m crying in public. I don’t care.

  ‘What about Rusty and Mick?’ Simon is less certain now.

  ‘They’re getting patched up,’ Rafa says. ‘They’ll survive, if they keep their mouths shut. Same goes for you.’

  The room contracts to me and Maggie and I pull back from her so I can see her. ‘Did they hurt you? Did they do anything you didn’t want them to?’

  She shakes her head. ‘Taya threatened to break my legs if I tried to escape, but she never laid a hand on me. None of them did.’

  ‘Not even Malachi?’

  She shakes her head again.

  ‘Was anyone else at the cabin?’

  ‘Just Micah, mostly. He seemed pretty stoked that you were alive. And then there was Daniel.’ She gives me a sheepish smile and out of the corner of my eye I see Rafa roll his eyes and settle back to crowd-watching. ‘He was very polite. He asked a lot of questions about you.’

  ‘What sort of questions?’

  ‘How we met, what you’re like. If I’d ever seen you fight.’ She shakes her head. ‘I told him you had a temper but you didn’t know how to fight—and then you turned up tonight swinging that sword…Those things, those hellions…they’re what you dream about?’ She shudders. ‘They’re hideous.’

  ‘Yeah, I know.’

  I’m not sure Simon can take any more talk about hellions. He’s staring across the bar, eyes blank.

  ‘Look, Mags, about Jason…He’s been beside himself since Taya grabbed you.’

  ‘Don’t, Gaby. He had so many chances to tell us who he was, and he didn’t.’

  ‘He has his reasons. And he told me when it counted.’

  ‘I don’t care.’ She looks away. ‘That night on the couch at Rafa’s, we talked about a lot of pretty intense stuff. And he said some things to me…If he meant them, then the least he owed me was the truth.’

  I put a hand on her arm. She’s trembling. ‘He’s never been a part of the Rephaim. Until tonight, none of the others knew he existed—not even Nathaniel. Especially Nathaniel. He risked all that to come get you.’

  At Nathaniel’s name, Rafa brings his boot up to rest on his knee. ‘Poor little Goldilocks,’ he says under his breath and taps the table to get Simon’s attention. ‘Hey, barkeep, any chance of a beer?’

  Simon slowly focuses on him. Then he takes the last swig out of his own bottle. ‘Only if you’re buying.’

  Rafa fishes notes out of his pocket and pushes them across the table. As soon as Simon is out of earshot, Rafa turns to Maggie. ‘What did Daniel say to you?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘What did he say to make you so twitchy when we walked in?’

  Maggie picks at her nails. I thought she was just freaked out by what she’d seen. It hadn’t crossed my mind there was more to it.

  ‘It’s okay,’ Rafa says. ‘You can tell us.’

  She finally looks up, at me rather than Rafa. ‘Daniel said you’d done a deal with demons. He said you and Jude cared more about finding the Fallen than you did about protecting people like me. That if the Fallen got loose, millions of people would die.’ She tears part of her nail free. ‘And I know you don’t remember what happened before you came here…’

  I can only stare at her.

  ‘Daniel doesn’t believe Gabe made a deal with demons any more than I do.’ Rafa knocks his knee against Maggie’s. ‘Pretty Boy was trying to scare you into spilling whatever secrets Gabe’s told you. You can’t trust a word that comes out of his mouth—’

  ‘I know, I know,’ Maggie says quickly. ‘It’s just, this is all so crazy.’

  ‘No shit,’ I say. I smile at her and she smiles back. Some of the tightness eases at the base of my skull. We might still be okay.

  ‘I’ve got a theory,’ Rafa says.

  ‘Spill it.’

  ‘Bel says he took your head. But you’re still alive, and it’s obvious he has no idea how that’s possible. He says Jude begged for your life, but he definitely doesn’t have him as a prisoner—or trophy— or we would’ve heard about it long before now.’

  ‘Keep going.’

  ‘You dream about scuffles Jude’s had with hellions. You dream about me’—his mouth quirks—’and you knew about the Dark Thoughts blog. And the brother you remember is like some idealised version of Jude—’

  ‘And then there’s the Foo Fighters,’ Maggie says.

  Rafa frowns, and Maggie holds out her hand. ‘Give me a dollar.’

  He hands her the coin. She goes to the jukebox and picks a song. The single guitar note starts up as she sits back down. Maggie holds up a hand to stop Rafa inter-rupting. She watches me closely.

  ‘Go on,’ she says. ‘You know it, don’t you? But you didn’t before.’

  Of course I know the tune—Jude played it all the time, but I’d never paid attention to the lyrics. Except, of course, I know them by heart now.

  Rafa is looking from me to Maggie. ‘And?’

  ‘Didn’t Jude love these guys?’

  ‘Holy shit.’ Rafa is looking at me, but it’s not me he’s seeing.

  ‘So? Rafa?’

  ‘He must have had a hand in messing with your memories.’

  I frown. ‘Is that possible? I mean, could he do that?’

  ‘No, but—’

  ‘Then why say it?’

  ‘Because it’s the only thing that makes sense.’

  ‘But that means he was still alive after I got hurt.’ The muscles across my breastbone const
rict. ‘If he’s been alive all this time, why haven’t you heard from him? Why haven’t I?’

  ‘Maybe he’s hurt. Maybe he’s being held somewhere. Maybe he’s in a coma.’

  Or maybe we did something so bad, the only way Jude could protect me was by making me forget and then disappearing himself.

  The song ends and in the quiet, Maggie says, ‘Maybe he doesn’t know who he is either.’

  I watch this register on Rafa’s face. The idea that Jude is out there somewhere, as defenceless as I was; the thought Jude might think I’m dead too. I feel like vomiting. Rafa looks the same way.

  ‘That means he found a way to change your memories and then let someone change his,’ Rafa says.

  I want this to be true so badly, I can barely breathe.

  ‘He couldn’t do that alone…’

  Rafa doesn’t finish the sentence, but it needs to be said.

  ‘It would involve doing a deal with someone who’s not human, wouldn’t it?’

  Rafa grabs a coaster and taps it on the table in time with the new song grinding out of the jukebox. ‘Nathaniel doesn’t have that sort of power, so it can’t be one of the Fallen, and the Garrison hates us, so it’s not them. Demons definitely don’t have the juice —and if Bel thinks he killed you, then maybe his memories about the attack have been messed with too.’

  ‘Then who did it? And why?’

  Simon is on his way back, carrying four beers by their necks.

  Rafa leans in closer. ‘That’s what we’re going to find out.’

  I like the way he says ‘we’. Like there’s no option except the two of us doing this together. Maggie looks from me to Rafa and back again.

  ‘What?’ I say.

  A small smile. ‘Nothing.’

  Simon puts the beers on the table a little too hard.

  ‘What is it?’ Maggie asks.

  ‘Rick’s jeep is still up the mountain.’

  Rafa sighs. ‘You want me to drop you back up there?’

  Simon looks at him, a faint crease in his brow, and then his eyes widen when he realises what Rafa’s offering. ‘I don’t want anything from you—and sure as hell not that.’

  ‘I agree.’

  Rafa raises his eyebrows at me.

  ‘I don’t think anyone should be wandering up there alone any time soon. Simon came through for us tonight—’

  ‘And now he’s—’

  ‘—and the least we can do is keep him out of strife with his brother.’

  Rafa holds my gaze for a few seconds, and then pulls his phone out. He taps the screen, waits, and then says: ‘Zak—one last favour.’ He turns away, so I can’t hear the rest of his conversation.

  I grab my drink and down nearly half the bottle in three gulps. Beer has never tasted this good.

  Simon watches me, fascination mixed with something else. Fear, maybe.

  ‘What are you?’ he says.

  ‘Thirsty,’ I say, and manage a tired smile.

  His face softens, like it always does when I smile at him, but then the wall comes straight back up. ‘You know what I mean.’

  ‘Didn’t Mags tell you?’

  ‘I tried,’ she says. ‘He didn’t want to know.’

  ‘She can explain it when you’re ready.’ I tap Maggie’s glass. ‘Are you coming home tonight? I need to talk to Jason about a few things, so I told him to come back after he’s cleaned up.’

  ‘I don’t know. I need time.’

  Simon picks up the coaster Rafa was playing with and adds it to the neat stack in the middle of the table. ‘Are we safe?’ he asks.

  ‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘It’s over.’

  Rafa ends the call as I finish my beer. ‘Done,’ he says.

  ‘Good.’ I stand up. ‘I need to sleep.’

  Maggie hugs me again.

  ‘Please come home tonight,’ I say, quietly. ‘There’s stuff I want to talk to you about.’

  It’s the best gift I have for her, and when she gives me one last squeeze, I know we’re going to be okay.

  THE THIRD WHEEL

  Outside, Rafa turns right instead of left.

  ‘I need to grab some fresh clothes,’ he says.

  ‘And we’re walking?’

  His face is lit by the glow of a restaurant. ‘I thought you might prefer to stay on foot.’ He stops. ‘Are you still sore? Would you rather shift?’

  ‘No, I’m okay.’ I touch his shoulder and hold my finger to the light to see if he’s still bleeding. ‘You should have got Zak or Ez to fix that. Sorry I’m not more useful.’

  ‘You were plenty useful tonight.’ He moves off again and I fall into step.

  ‘Listen.’ I look down at the paved footpath. I want this to come out right. ‘Thanks for everything tonight. I know you didn’t have to do any of it.’

  He laughs. ‘Yeah, right. Like you would have let me off the hook if I’d walked away.’ He glances at me. Something flickers in his face before he looks away. ‘And, any excuse to cause a bit of chaos.’

  ‘Well, either way, thanks. I don’t know what I would have done without you.’

  I wait for the smartarse comeback, but there’s none. We walk in silence.

  The fibro shack is in darkness. Rafa grabs the key from under one of the dead pot plants out front. He opens the door, flicks on the bare bulb overhead and heads for the bedroom.

  ‘I won’t be long,’ he says, not looking at me.

  I rub my eyes. I may as well freshen up while Rafa gets his gear together. I’m almost at the bathroom when he steps out of his room. Shirtless.

  ‘Oh, sorry.’ I step back, my cheeks hot. What is wrong with me? My eyes flick back to his bare torso. It’s covered in bruises and welts. ‘Rafa…’ I nearly reach out and touch him. ‘You need to get someone to heal those.’

  Rafa closes the space between us. He searches my eyes, and then slides his fingers around my neck. My hands are on his chest, my fingertips pressing into him. His skin is warm. We watch each other, unblinking. And then his lips are on mine and it’s like I remember—breath and heat. Only this time his kiss is slower, deeper. I mould myself against him. I’ve been waiting for this since he walked out of the bar that first night.

  I’m not exhausted anymore.

  My arms are around his neck, my fingers in his hair. I can’t get enough. He presses me against the wall, his hand grazing my side to my hip. His lips are hungrier now. As are mine.

  We only break apart for air, and then Rafa is nuzzling my neck, even the hellion scar near my collarbone. I make the smallest sound of pleasure and his mouth covers mine again. He pulls me to him and walks me backwards into his room, kissing me the whole way.

  We’re on the bed. My boots, shirt and jeans come off, and his jeans are undone now and low on his hips. I’m not sure he’s wearing anything under them. I can’t keep track of the places he’s touched and kissed me. My entire body thrums.

  And then his hand slides up the inside of my bare thigh. All the way.

  I gasp. I regret it as soon as the sound escapes me, but I’ve never been touched like this before, by hands so assured, so practiced.

  His body stills and he stops kissing my throat. His heart is banging against his ribcage, and mine keeps pace with it. His hand lingers just inside my thigh.

  ‘Do you want me to stop?’

  I swallow. ‘No. It’s just…’ I don’t want to say it.

  ‘Are you…Have you ever…?’

  ‘Does it matter?’

  He watches me, wrestling with something. I don’t look away. Just because I didn’t want a drunken encounter in a backpackers’ hostel doesn’t mean I’ve been avoiding this moment. I wasn’t ready. Until now.

  ‘It’s not a big deal.’

  His breath is warm on my neck. ‘Yeah, it is. It’s a huge deal.’ He slides his hand over my underwear and runs his palm across my bare stomach, the urgency already fading from his touch.

  My hand has gone still on his back, but I slide it down to his hip now and gently
move my thumb low on his abdomen, making a slow circle. ‘It’s my decision.’

  Rafa closes his eyes. ‘It’s not just yours.’

  ‘Who else’s is it?’

  ‘Gabe’s. And she’d never forgive me.’ He looks down at me, his green eyes serious. ‘You think you’re a virgin.’

  Anger flares. ‘I get it.’ I try to roll away from him but he doesn’t let me get far.

  ‘Get what?’ He pulls me back to him.

  ‘You want Gabe. Not me.’

  He traces a path down the length of my spine, resting his hand in the small of my back. ‘Unless you’re not paying attention, I think you can work out how much I want you right now.’ He gives me a meaningful look, and I blush all over again.

  ‘So why wouldn’t Gabe forgive you?’ I hate talking about myself in the third person, but I have to: she’s not me.

  His fingers lightly brush my skin. ‘I told you,’ he says, ‘you and me, we haven’t been on good terms for a long time. So if I took advantage of the fact you don’t remember why, and then you got your memory back…’ He gives me a grim smile. ‘You’d probably make a coin purse out of my balls.’

  ‘Nah,’ I say lightly, like his rejection doesn’t sting. ‘I’d want something big enough to carry more than five-cent pieces.’

  His smile slowly widens, and he draws me closer. ‘Don’t push your luck, Gaby. This resolve of mine is pretty fragile.’

  ‘You could always tell me what you did, and I can decide for myself how pissed off I want to be.’

  ‘What makes you think it was all me?’ He’s still playful, but there’s a hint of warning in his tone.

  ‘You know, you can’t have it both ways.’

  ‘Which ways would that be?’

  ‘You can’t make decisions for me based on what I might remember, and then punish me for what I don’t.’

  He laughs, deep and low in his chest. ‘You still know how to complicate things, I’ll give you that.’

  ‘And you know how to avoid answering a question.’