Especially when his mother still wanted to protect his father, even though he was a liar and a murderer and a cheat.
Kalif ran his hand under my chin and moved my face up to look at him. I looked into the eyes that weren’t really his.
“I want to see your face,” he said.
And though it shouldn’t have mattered at all, the feeling was mutual.
“Okay,” I said. “Let’s go someplace private, and we’ll talk it all through.” Just for the moment, I wanted to walk with him, to go somewhere we could drop our personas and be in our home faces, to pretend that if we talked about Aida’s offer, we’d find a course of action that didn’t put us all in more danger.
One that meant we could be together.
Kalif’s eyes flicked up to the hotel balconies, and my face flushed. We couldn’t spend the night together. The magnetism would turn into gravity. I’d never escape.
“Um,” I said. “That’s not exactly what I meant.”
Kalif’s cheeks blushed for a brief moment before he corrected them. He hung his head. “Sorry. I . . . have no excuse for myself.” He cleared his throat. “What did you have in mind?”
I picked up the box of cinnamon rolls and handed them to him. “Come on.”
I waited for him to ask where we were going, but he didn’t. Kalif just handed me one of the cinnamon rolls, picked up the other, and threw away the box. He took my free hand with his and walked with me while taking a bite of his pastry.
He wasn’t very dexterous about it, though. He ended up with frosting down his forearm. This was the thing about making fun of Kalif—I could never resist.
I nudged him, pointing at his arm. “I’d lick that off,” I said. “But I wouldn’t want you to take it the wrong way.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Which way is the wrong way?”
Now it was my turn to blush.
Kalif shook his head. “What are we doing?”
“Foreplay?” I said.
Kalif choked on his cinnamon roll. Then he spoke with his mouth full. “Okay, now you’re just messing with me.”
I smiled. “Only now?”
He let his face turn red. “Fine, fine. Enjoy your spoils.”
I laughed, and hoped he couldn’t hear the hesitation in my voice. I didn’t want to leave him behind again. I wanted Aida’s offer to be the change that we needed.
But we couldn’t make snap decisions based on what we felt. We had to talk it through. And that meant the path forward was uncertain.
I led Kalif to the movie theater—the easiest access to a dark, private space that wasn’t too private. I bought us a pair of tickets to the show that was starting next and we slipped into the theater. It was four in the afternoon, and the place was empty except for a pair of thirty-something women sitting near the center. I pulled Kalif up to the back row, where we could slouch behind the high-backed seats in the dark corner. We waited for a minute, until we’d checked for both security cameras and ushers, and then let our faces shift back into ourselves.
Kalif watched me intensely. His hair and eyes looked even darker in the dim light. It was Kalif, for sure, but he looked to be four or five years older than the last time I’d seen him, even though it had only been two months. His features were more defined, his shoulders broader.
He looked like a guy who had his whole life under control. Our home bodies were based on our self-images—our subconscious minds formed our faces literally in the way that we saw ourselves. I wasn’t sure how different I looked, but for the first time since I’d met him, that six month age gap felt bigger, as if we really were four years apart.
If Kalif noticed my hesitation, he didn’t show it. He ran a hand through my hair, which curled around my face just like my mom’s. “Good to see you,” he said. He leaned closer to me in the dark.
“You, too,” I said. “But you look older.”
He looked at me uncertainly. “Does it bother you?”
I tried to relax, so he wouldn’t see that it did. “No. I’m just surprised.”
He seemed to buy it. “You look older, too,” he said. “Maybe by a year or two.”
“Yeah, well, you’re seventeen going on twenty-five.”
He laughed. He looked into my eyes, and we just sat there for a minute, staring. It felt so good just to be with him that I didn’t want to think about anything else. So instead, I kissed him.
I flipped up the arm rest between us as our mouths moved together. It was dark enough in here that the women in the center of the theater probably wouldn’t see us. I ran my nails down the back of Kalif’s neck. When we came up for air, he gave me a look. His voice was raw. “If you wanted to do that, we should have gone to the hotel.”
I pulled back, trying to focus. “Okay. Right. Talking.”
Kalif groaned and buried his face in my shoulder. “That’s not exactly what I meant.”
I whacked him on the arm and pushed him back in his chair. The movie was starting, and I scanned the theater one more time to make sure no one was paying attention to us before turning my back to the screen. The noise would keep us from drawing attention, and the rows around us were still empty, so our talking wouldn’t catch us trouble.
“So, your mother,” I said.
Kalif rolled his eyes. “You don’t want to help her protect my dad. I get that. What happened to your family was his fault.”
I nodded. It was true that I didn’t want to find him. But I still thought there had to be a way to pit all of them against each other, to work things so that the Carmines took care of Mel and left us alone.
I rubbed my palm against the raised arm rest.
I was thinking about setting up Kalif’s father, of using him as a pawn. And murderer or not, he was still Kalif’s dad. I wasn’t sure what he’d think of the suggestion.
But there was only one way to find out. I had to tell him everything.
“Your grandparents,” I said. “They’ve been contacting me.”
Kalif stiffened. “They know where you are?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think so. They used one of my old email addresses, and I haven’t replied. I always use a burner phone to check them. They shouldn’t even know I’m receiving the messages, right?”
Kalif nodded slowly. “It’s plausible. Besides, if they knew where you were, they’d have brought you in by now. I’ve hacked into their system, and I’ve been monitoring what I can. I haven’t seen anything that points to them knowing where you are.”
I nodded. This was one of the benefits of having him inside. “That’s good.”
He looked at me with concern. “What did they say?”
I swallowed. “That they want me to work for them. That they’ll give my mother and me safe harbor if we’ll bring them your dad.”
Kalif sat back in his seat. “So they do want him,” he said. “And my mom wants to protect him. And everyone wants you to help.”
I nodded. “Or it’s a trap. That’s more likely. You know more about them than I do. Do you really think they’d let my mom and me go free?”
Kalif shook his head. “But they’d probably let you work for them. If you were willing to prove yourself to them by bringing in my dad, and then live under their thumb, I don’t think they’d kill you. They’re dangerous, but they live by a sort of . . . code I guess. They eliminate shifters they can’t control. But those they think they can control, they’re happy to use.”
“Like they’re using you now,” I said. “Or at least, they think they are.”
Kalif nodded. “My mother keeps me away from them as much as she can. But there’s only so much she can do.”
“She’s afraid of them,” I said.
He nodded. “Aren’t we all?”
I sighed. I hated that he was right. “The only reason they would ask me to do this is because they think they can recruit me. So unless we want to help them hunt, control, and kill other shifters for the rest of our lives, it’s a trap. But the jaws of a trap can swing both wa
ys. I don’t want to discount an opportunity if we can work it to our advantage.”
Kalif nodded, and I could tell that he understood. I held my breath, waiting for his response.
“That’s smart,” he said finally.
I took his hand and squeezed it. “But what about you? What do you want to happen to your father?”
Kalif sighed and closed his eyes. “I don’t know.”
I nodded. Given the situation, that was more than reasonable. “If you want to find your dad yourself, I’ll help you. You know that, right?”
Kalif looked surprised. “Why would you do that after what he did?”
“I’d do it for you. If that’s what you need. I’m guessing from your mother’s offer that you guys haven’t heard from him at all?”
“Not a word,” Kalif said. “And I don’t want to.”
“What do you think about bringing him to justice?”
Kalif winced. “There’s not a lot of that available.”
He was right. There was no legal authority for shifters.
“Why would your mother want to protect him?” I asked. “He betrayed her, too.”
“I don’t know,” Kalif said. “Maybe she loves him.”
I cringed. “I can’t imagine why.”
Kalif was quiet.
“Sorry,” I said. “He’s your dad. I shouldn’t say things like that.” Things between Kalif and me would be better if I didn’t hate his entire family.
Too bad they made it so easy.
Kalif stared up at the movie screen, but I wasn’t sure he was seeing anything. “Don’t be sorry. I’ve been thinking the same thing.”
That seemed to be Aida’s thing, though—protecting people who didn’t deserve it. But I understood one part of her messed up mind.
Neither of us wanted to be alone.
“So we don’t want to work for your mom,” I said. “But that doesn’t mean that we can’t pretend to.”
Kalif nodded slowly. “What did you have in mind?”
“We tell your mom we’re working for her,” I said. “If the Carmines do manage to track us, let them think I’m doing what they asked. We look for your dad—which is made easier if he’s still in California. And if we find him, we use him as leverage to get ourselves free.” I looked him right in the eye. “We’re con artists. We could con them all.”
Kalif looked skeptical. “I’m not sure how we could do that. But doing what they want for now will buy us time.”
I nodded. “We can decide what to do with your father if we find him. It won’t be easy. He’ll have covered his tracks well. We might not be able to trace him at all, and then none of it matters.”
I gripped Kalif’s hand harder. If we couldn’t find Mel, we had no more leverage than if we chose not to look for him.
The only way forward seemed to be to look, and wait for our moment.
“Okay,” Kalif said. “I’m in. And you? You’re ready to leave your mother?”
My stomach sank. Behind me on the movie screen, I heard a horrible crashing sound that might as well have been my plans screeching to a halt.
I was so ready. I wanted to tell him to come right now, and we’d walk away from all this and never return.
But I’d left my mom half stoned, unable to keep herself out of the hands of people who would imprison and kill her. I’d already saved her from them once. I couldn’t let them get to her again.
“Jory?” Kalif said.
“I can’t,” I said. “Not totally. But we can work together on the side. I can sneak off and meet you, and we can—"
Kalif shook his head. “What if she catches us? I thought that was the plan—you were going to get her back on her feet, and then we were going to leave.”
I opened my mouth, then closed it again. He was right, and I was the one not holding up my end of the bargain. “I’m just . . . not ready yet. I’m sorry.” I gave him a pleading look, but he was already waving away my apology.
“It’s okay,” he said. “Take the time you need. But if we’re going to work together again, I want to do this right.” He winced. “I don’t want to mess things up when it comes to you, you know?”
I knew. I felt exactly the same. “So I can look,” I said. “But I have to do it alone.”
Kalif nodded. “I can do what I can from where I am, but it won’t be much.”
I nodded. That made sense—if Aida thought she could look for Mel under the Carmines’ eye, she would have done it herself.
So I was back where I started.
“How is your mom doing?” he asked. “If I can come with you, if I can help . . .”
My heart squeezed. I wanted him there, more than anything, but bringing him into it would be the opposite of helpful. “She doesn’t trust you. She’d flip if she knew I was even talking to you.”
“I know,” Kalif said. “I just want you to know that if you need me, I’m here.”
We were both quiet.
“Thank you,” I said.
He nodded. “Of course.”
I melted against his shoulder, wishing the conversation had come to a different conclusion.
Kalif whispered in my ear. “We’ll talk again in a few weeks. Maybe then, your mom will be ready.”
A few weeks. Part of me thought that was nothing—such a short time left to be apart. But another part of me knew it was too short. I couldn’t get my mother stable in that time. I didn’t know how to get her stable at all.
But I had to. I couldn’t waste any more time dancing around the issue. When I got home, I’d be straight with her. I’d tell her I couldn’t live like this anymore. I’d have her make a plan to get herself healthy.
And if she refused, that was her choice. If she wouldn’t help herself, I’d have to walk away. I couldn’t give up everything for her if she wasn’t willing to at least try.
I pressed my face into Kalif’s shoulder, breathing him in. The previews were ending. “Can we stay here a little bit longer?”
Kalif wrapped his arms around me tight. “We have a whole movie. If you’re sure I can’t get us a room somewhere.”
He sounded like he was joking, but I knew he wasn’t. Not really. And why should he be? We should be able to be together.
So why was I still so much of a mess?
“I love you,” I said. “But sometimes you drive me crazy.”
“Believe me,” he said, "it’s mutual.”
We didn’t stay for the entire movie, but Kalif did ride the train north with me on my way home. He promised to continue north for another several stops, so if he was wrong about his mother tracking him, she’d think he dropped me off elsewhere.
He held me tight as the train pulled up to my stop, and I closed my eyes and breathed him in. I tried to soak up that moment, to make it last however much longer it would be before I saw him again.
I hugged my arms as I walked from the train back to our apartment complex. It was literally colder here, so close to San Francisco, and I had to send more blood to my arms, even though it was summer.
In the underground lot a block over, I changed into Amelia. When I got to our place, I snuck up from the side to see if I could spot Laura through the window. Her curtains were drawn.
I breathed a sigh of relief and slipped through our front door. The apartment smelled of sour milk, and I was surprised that we had enough food in the house for anything to go bad.
And then I walked around the corner into the kitchen, and my heart stopped. Mom lay on the linoleum floor with one arm folded underneath her, and the other splayed out to the side. Her mouth hung open, vomit pooling where her collarbone met the floor.
My body reverted back to myself and then shrank further, like a child’s. The vomit was mostly pills, dozens of them, in several different sizes and colors.
My skin went cold. No one took that many pills by accident.
My eyes darted around the apartment, hoping this was a trap. Someone had gotten to my mother. Someone else had done this to her.
I shook myself, bending over her body. Was she dead?
No. If she were, her body would have reverted into its genetic self, her face melting away, leaving nothing but flat skin.
Like my father.
As I stared at her, I could see her chest rise and fall with each breath, though she was clearly unconscious, reverted to her home body.
Did someone do this to her? Had the Carmines caught her? Was I even now standing inside a trap?
I listened carefully to the apartment, but heard nothing. I took one step into the hallway, and found no one waiting for me.
My heartbeat pounded in my skull.
Unless. Unless that wasn’t my mother lying on the floor. Unless it was one of the people who were after us, staging everything. Wanting me to believe she was dying. Could one of them have faked the scars with makeup? It wouldn’t shift, but would create a ruse.
I moved back to my mother. Her head lolled to the side, bile running across her cheek, coating the scars.
Not makeup. And if this was someone else pretending to be her, I couldn’t imagine what their game would be.
I reached for her wrist. Her hand was cold, but I could feel her pulse. I shook her, shouting at her. “Mom,” I said. “Mom. Wake up.”
She didn’t. I dropped her wrist, stepped rapidly backward and slammed into the wall. Saliva curdled in my mouth.
It wasn’t a trap. It wasn’t staged. Any of the people after us would have taken her away, or lay in wait here for me to find her. They would have pounced on me when they had the chance. When I was bent over the body. When I was reeling in panic.
No.
No one else had done this.
I drew a deep breath, trying to block out the thought, but only gagged on the foul smell in the air.
My mother tried to leave me here.
Alone.
Five
I stood frozen against the wall of the kitchen, my body suspended, unable to move, unable to feel. Unable to decide what to do next.
Mom was alive. But how much of the medication was still in her system? Did she need an ambulance?
A Million Shadows Page 4
