Shadow of Doubt: Part 2

by May, W. J.

  “I don’t know. We just have them.” Like they’re predestined.

  “How come that night at the library, you gave a bunch of names but not your own?” Aurora pushed the pie crust away, setting an elbow on the table as she rested her chin in her hand. “Do you know what yours means?”

  Erebus chewed on his lip, pausing before answering. “I did ask you,” he whispered.

  “I don’t remember you saying Aaron.”

  He glanced up at her and then concentrated on playing with a crumb on the tabletop. “My name’s not actually Aaron. That first night we met, at the frat party, you couldn’t hear me because the music was so loud. You called me Aaron and later that night you put Aaron Buss in your blackberry.” I liked it. It made me feel human. “It’s Erebus.”

  “E-re-bus…” Her eyes squinted slightly, and her brows came together. “Erebus,” she said again.

  He pictured her brain picking through the names and definitions from that night.

  A squeak came from her mouth, which she covered by her hand. “You’re the personification of darkness. A shadow,” she recited in a muffled, but clearly excited voice.

  “Yeah. Not that appealing of a name to share with a girl you like.” Especially a smart girl with a good memory.

  Aurora moved her hand from her mouth and stared at it as she traced circles on the tabletop. Erebus watched her fingers glide across the sparkles set into the table.

  “That night in the library, when you went to the restroom, I looked up your name.” Erebus refused to lift his head up.

  “I wouldn’t be in the mythology book. But my name means morning bird, or something like that.” Her voice went husky, “I’m…”

  “The goddess of the dawn.” My sunrise, my dawn. He wanted to say that out loud but didn’t. How could she understand what she now represented to him?

  “Ironic, isn’t it? That we should meet.”

  “Maybe it’s destiny.” He wished so badly that might be true. He held off his urge to reach across the table and grab her hand and hold it tight. He knew tonight would be the last time he saw her. Instead, he curled his fingers into a fist under the table, letting his nails push into the flesh of his palm.

  “You believe in destiny? Now that seems a bit tongue-in-cheek.” She leaned forward and began slipping into her jacket.

  “You’re leaving?” His pulse quickened. Butterflies flew into his stomach. He wasn’t ready to spend the rest of his life without her. He knew he wasn’t fine, like he kept telling everybody. This was it. She would leave him now.

  “I need to walk. I have so much to think about.” She stood up.

  He stayed seated, unsure of what he should do. Did he say goodbye? Should he hug her?

  “Aren’t you coming?” A wry smile played on Aurora’s lips.

  He didn’t respond. He jumped up as quick as he could, tossing fifty dollars on the table without a second glance. As he shoved his wallet in his back pocket, he felt Aurora slip her hand into his. Unable to stop himself, he leaned down and kissed her hair. She smelled wonderful, intoxicating as always. His drug of choice. He smiled against her head.

  Soundlessly, they headed out of the diner and into the street. Snow had begun to fall, which seemed to make the air feel slightly warmer. They continued in silence, hand in hand, for a few blocks.

  Erebus watched Aurora, waiting for her to realize what he’d told her and tell him to get lost. Passing a phone booth, he felt her slow down and watched as she stared at it and then back at him.

  “How do you do it?” She raised their held hands and pointed with her finger.

  How do I explain the rush of fear and the terror of the unknown? He took the safest route he knew. “It’s a natural instinct. Like fight or flight.” He dropped her hand and stopped walking. “Why aren’t you running?”

  Aurora stopped and turned to look at him. “I don’t know. I should be thinking you’re mad, but I don’t. The crazy thing is...I believe you.” Squinting, she focused passed him, on the phone booth. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. It’s like I need you – like you’re my destiny.” She shook her head and closed her eyes. “I like mythology, but I don’t believe in destiny or fate. Mind you, after tonight I’m not sure what I should believe in.”

  Erebus wondered if she was talking to herself or to him. He shoved his hands into his pockets, staring at the snowflakes. “The whole thing has flown by for me – decades, years, everything that has happened in my life. Then I met you. You made my world stand still.” He watched her eyes draw to him. “In that wonderful stillness you created, without evening knowing, I found an independence I’ve never known. I don’t want to lose that freedom, and I can’t lose you.” His voice became a whisper as he finished.

  Aurora reached out, resting her hands on his jawline. She stared at him intently and then dropped her eyes to his lips.

  They both leaned in. Erebus let his mouth find hers. This wasn’t a kiss of passion or lust. It was something Erebus hadn’t felt before. He realized, as Aurora wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head against his shoulder, it was a kiss of tenderness.

  Time seemed to stand still as they held on to each other. Erebus didn’t understand the swelling inside of him or his need to hold Aurora as tight as he could and never let go. These feelings were all new, all uncharted territory.

  It was bliss.

  However, in that same moment the hairs on the back of his neck rose. His arms around Aurora tightened in a new way. They became protective.

  A voice from behind him split the night, “You think you can spend forever here, Erebus? You think you can be satisfied with this?”

  Chapter 2

  Nanny

  To Erebus, the voice grated like fingernails on a chalkboard. To anyone else, it dripped of honey. Outwardly, Erebus froze. Inside, fight or flight seemed to be running circles around his entire body, screaming at him to make a choice and make it fast.

  Cautiously, he released Aurora but still kept one arm protectively around her waist.

  No Night Council, instead something way worse. “Good evening, Nanny.” He heard the frost in his voice as he turned to face her. She’d cut her pin-straight platinum blonde hair very short. The last time he’d seen her, it’d been down to her waist. Now it was shaved short, spiked up in front. Her blue eyes seemed to have changed – once they’d seemed bright, now they were cold as ice. His eyes travelled down her neck, then over her leather jacket, tight jeans, and high leather boots. She was dazzling, but he didn’t understand why he’d ever seen her as beautiful.

  “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your little friend? You seem joined at the hip.” Nanny’s sensual voice hid the sarcasm and implications only Erebus could hear. She strolled forward, holding her arms out to him. “It’s been a long time, darling.” She kissed him on the lips, forcing her tongue into his mouth before he could stop her. It erased Aurora’s sweet taste and left a bitter, salty one.

  Erebus stepped away from her embrace, trying to casually lean against the phone booth. His arm still partly around Aurora’s waist, he leaned to pull her tightly to his side. He wanted to shove Nanny away, but knew that was exactly the kind of reaction she was trying to get from him.

  “This is Aurora.” He looked up at the sky, wishing it would swallow Nanny up. “Aurora, this is Nanganana. She prefers to go by Nanny.” He felt Aurora stiffen against him as he said Nanny’s full name. She obviously remembered the mythical meaning of Nanny’s name.

  “Hello, sunshine.” Nanny’s voice sounded like an icicle that had just snapped. She nodded but didn’t offer her hand. She crossed her arms and planted her boots squarely in the soft, gathering snow.

  “Hi.” Aurora’s throaty voice had a hint of defiance in it. Erebus couldn’t help but grin. She was no pushover, like a lawyer on the defence.

  “What’re you doing here?” Erebus’ words came out stilted.

  “Looking for you, of course.” Nanny’s furious glare stayed t
rained on Aurora. “You left in such a hurry, without bothering to say goodbye.” She glanced briefly at him and pouted. She smirked as she brought her gaze back to Aurora. “It’s taken me a while to find you.”

  Erebus stepped in front of Aurora, breaking Nanny’s stare. He had no intention of bringing up the past in front of Aurora. He’d said enough this evening. “There was, and still is, nothing to say.” Calm on the outside, he knew inside everything was about to boil over. He couldn’t believe she had the audacity to come back into his life.

  He grabbed Aurora’s hand and turned to go. “Have a pleasant evening.” He enunciated everything, like a machine gun firing bullets.

  “I will.” She smiled demonically. “Oh, and ‘Bus-?”

  “What?” He couldn’t control the impatience he felt.

  “Please let Janus know I’ll be staying in the area. I’m low on funds.” She uncrossed her arms, resting her hands on her hips, waiting for his response, her mouth twitching.

  Erebus sighed. This could only be trouble. Janus was going to be pissed. He hated unrest between Shadows.

  He now had to double-worry about Aurora’s safety. Nanny never did anything without a specific, personal purpose. She didn’t want him with anyone, even for one night. Aurora was now a walking target, with markers on the front and back of her.

  “Did you hear me, ‘Bus?” She hissed his name.

  “Yeah, you don’t need to tell me. I’m sure Janus already knows. ’Night.” He pulled Aurora’s hand and walked away without turning back.

  Aurora must have sensed his urgency. She walked swiftly and said nothing. Erebus watched her turn to look behind them several times as they walked away.

  They headed to the Ithaca Falls parking lot in silence. She pulled her keys out and unlocked the doors to her car. Erebus silently got into the passenger seat. A sense of doom hung heavily over him.

  “Who the hell is she?” Aurora said the moment she slammed her door shut. She locked the doors.

  Erebus wasn’t sure if she meant to keep him in or danger out. “Nanny.”

  “Yeah, I know that. What’s she to you? She really hates you. Or maybe obsessed is a better word.” Aurora crossed her arms. Obviously, she had no intention of starting the car until she had some answers. Lawyer-girl was questioning the witness.

  “We met…a long time ago.” He really didn’t want to talk about this. Not now and probably not ever. Plus, Aurora had enough to digest already.

  “She’s a freakin’ Shadow, isn’t she?” Her voice rose, and he could see the accusation in her eyes, even in the dark.

  “Yeah.” Shit! Can she stop badgering the witness? Erebus rubbed his face with his hand.

  “What kind of Shadow?”

  “Pardon?” He looked at her, shocked at the question. He was pretty sure he knew what she meant, but how could she be so insightful, so quickly.

  “What is she a Shadow of?”

  Erebus’ heart slammed against his rib cage. He held his breath.

  Aurora sat waiting for him to answer, jangling her keys.

  He exhaled harshly. “She’s the same as me.”

  “I knew it! Did you share a phone booth with her?”

  “What? No. We can’t do that. It’s impossible.” On the other hand, he’d never tried it, so he couldn’t be sure. Aurora’s voice sounded like she was a parent asking a kid if he’d slept around. Not asking the question straight out but using a metaphor. This was only going to get worse. Erebus slunk down in his seat, his knees hitting the glove compartment.

  “Well, if it’s physically not possible, or whatever you call it, you’ve obviously shared something with her.”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Ha! You tried that line with me earlier this evening.” She sounded mad, but there was something else there, too. “Try me. Again. It seems you’re full of complex complications tonight, but I think this one is pretty simple.”

  Erebus groaned. He’d already told her one dark secret. This was nothing in comparison to that so he might as well tell her everything now. A strange thought crossed his mind. Janus was going to personally kill him for disrupting his smooth-running operation. Between Janus and Aurora, Erebus had nothing to fear from the Night Council. He made a fist and punched his other hand.

  “Who is she to you?”

  There was no way Aurora would get this. Erebus wet his lips. “Okay. Nanny also needs a pay phone as her Shadow. It’s infrequent that two exact Shadows exist. It doesn’t happen. Then the chances of the two of them meeting isn’t very likely.” He scratched his head as he tried to think of a way to explain things to her. “Then throw on top of all this rarity, the two Shadows are the opposite sex.” This was not the moment to bring up the high sex drive Shadows had. “I think, because of all the rarity, we were drawn to each other.” It didn’t mean anything to him now.

  “Are you supposed to be with her?” Aurora’s voice trembled.

  “You mean, like destiny?” Erebus could see her outline clearly in the dark.

  She sat staring straight ahead, unable to look at him. She nodded her head once.

  He wanted to reach out and touch her but held back. “Maybe, at first, but not anymore. We’re the same type of Shadow, but we couldn’t be more opposite. Nanny’s very hard. She appears to be sultry and seductive, but it’s only a cover. Inside she’s shady. Darker than any other Shadow I’ve ever met.” Night Council included.

  Aurora turned to him. He could see the whites of her eyes, bright against her large pupils.

  “This is so hard to explain. I’m different than other Shadows.” He flicked imaginary lint off his jeans. “We’re supposed to live for the moment, enjoy what we can get and care only for ourselves. We’re not supposed to have feelings, just physical cravings of lust and personal satisfaction. Devotion and caring aren’t really something we’re supposed to be into. Remorse and guilt are foreign to us.” He stared out the window into the darkness, thinking about all the new feelings Aurora had evoked inside of him. Love shouldn’t exist inside a Shadow. Others would say it was impossible.

  “You’re not like that.”

  “I’ve always had trouble living up to the expectations of the others.” How could he explain he didn’t really care about his own physical and sexual gratification? Somehow, deep down, he’d wanted, needed more.

  “Shadows aren’t that different than humans. Half of the world’s population thinks the same as you.” She reached into her coat pocket and extracted the keys. “How or when did you and Nanny meet?” She started the car and flicked the heater on, her hand trembling as she cranked the knobs.

  As much as he wanted, it took all his strength to not cover her hand with his. He needed to tell her everything before he’d allow himself to reach out.

  “We met about fifteen years ago. She found me when I lived in New York. I was going through a bit of a low time.” He puffed out a breath. “It’s hard to explain. This is a hard life. I am so different than the others. I often question what my purpose is. The others are fine with living for the moment and not making attachments to others. They go about their lives with no problems. Me, I question everything. I find it very depressing.” He sighed as the old weight settled back onto his shoulders. Since meeting Aurora, he’d forgotten almost completely about the desolation he lived with night in and night out.

  “What happened with Nanny?” She reached to rest her hand tentatively on his knee.

  Her touch gave him courage. “I was completely on my own at the time. I knew my handler, of course, but for a number of years, I stayed away from other Shadows. Nanny found me one evening in Central Park. I liked walking through the park, and one night she was there, leaning against a tree, waiting for me. We Shadows have this built-in radar, like we can sense each other. It’s all interconnected somehow.”

  “What did Nanny want? Did she search you out?”

  “I guess she’d heard about me from another Shadow, or maybe my handler. I’m not sure. Anyway, she
came looking for me. Nanny pretended to be something she wasn’t. She can be very convincing when she wants to be. She pretended to be something she wasn’t, and stupid me didn’t realize it right off the bat.” He dropped his head back onto the headrest, still angry at himself for not seeing her true colors sooner. “I needed something or someone and I thought… I thought… She could fill the void I had no idea how to fix.” He couldn’t have been more wrong.

  “How long?”

  Erebus sighed, knowing he was going to sound like an idiot. “Five years. We spent five years together. Looking back on it now, I don’t know how I never saw through her. She convinced me we were supposed to be together. That two of the same should never be apart. I believed her because I wanted to. I wanted it... Wanted to believe that was how it was supposed to be. In the beginning, she was different. Or so it seemed. Or maybe she was good. I don’t know.” He sighed, thinking about how he had never really figured Nanny out. “She did take up a bunch of religions for a while, passing through each one like they were a quest. I think she finished with Yoga or Voodoo, or something. I never questioned or followed along. I trusted her. She made me believe I was the most important thing in the world to her.” He shrugged. “It’s really sad. Her soul’s more lost than mine. It’s no wonder she can’t find peace.”

  “You never thought something was off? That maybe she wasn’t right in the head? She’s pretty scary, and I only met her for about five minutes.”

  “It wasn’t until a few years together I began to question things.”

  “Like what?”

  “She’d disappear for nights and then come back, saying she’d been working or she needed a few nights alone. I never raised an eyebrow because I too took time away to think. I thought she might be more like me, since we were the same.” He shifted in his seat. “Then, if I ended up at a party or out somewhere, she’d show up and scrutinize everything I did. She thought I was constantly cheating on her with mortals. She accused me of the weirdest things.” He closed his eyes remembering their final night together. “I finally found out the truth. She was the one leading a double life.”