A Million Shadows

by Janci Patterson

  Damon snorted. “A mouse might worry about the local cat. But he doesn’t try to stage a rebellion. It’s suicide.”

  “Ah,” I said. “So it’s a delusion, then.”

  He gave me a sharp look. “What?”

  I gestured the length of him. “The body. Your subconscious is exaggerating your physique because you’re convinced you’re so tough, but it’s just denial. Deep down, you’re a coward. That’s fine. Run then.”

  I turned, but I didn’t even make it out of the window well before Damon responded.

  “Girl!” He still wasn’t calling me by the name I’d given him, probably to let me know he didn’t believe I’d given anything away.

  I turned around. “Yes?”

  He looked at me with convincing alarm. “Are you serious about taking them out?”

  I wanted to be. And gathering a team—especially with experienced shifters who could really help—was a good first step.

  “I was serious about my father,” I said. “I was serious about looking for allies. Besides, if you were really that scared of them, why aren’t you in the Caribbean already?”

  “Maybe I should be,” he said. “But I didn’t think it would matter. Every shifter who doesn’t work under their safe little umbrella is a threat. They can’t let me go, for fear I’ll undermine their operation when they’re not looking. That’s as true here as it is anywhere.”

  I tensed. “They’re always watching, aren’t they? That’s why you thought I worked for them. You know they’ll find you eventually.”

  “They probably already have,” Damon said. “If they didn’t send you, then they just aren’t ready to make their move.”

  “Why are they after you?” I asked. “You refused to work with them?”

  Damon shook his head. “They contracted with me. I do hired muscle, mostly. Mercenary work isn’t always legal, so you can imagine how beneficial it can be to have a brand new face for every job. I thought they were just looking to do some intimidating under the table, but it turned out they’d pinpointed me as a possible shifter. I wasn’t covering my tracks as well as I should have been, I guess.”

  “So why aren’t you still working for them?” I asked.

  Damon’s face was serious. “We had a falling out.”

  I waited for him to elaborate. “What was the argument about?”

  Damon smiled. “I took some pictures of their home bodies. A kind of collateral.”

  I nearly fell through the window.

  I’d seen pictures of the Carmines’ home faces. That’s how Kalif and I had originally figured out they were Aida’s parents. It was how we’d found out they were shifters to begin with. “Those pictures. You posted them to a message board.”

  Now it was Damon’s turn to look surprised. “Yeah. Just a conspiracy forum. Nothing big. I did it as a warning.” He squinted at me. “You heard about that?”

  “I saw them,” I said. We’d found them on one of the sites Kalif frequented—places where regular people who believed in shifters went to trade stories. A lot of it was obviously made up, and all of it sounded insane, but Kalif liked to go on them and bait the crazies. “You’re Hunter,” I said. “The photos are still there, but we assumed you were dead.”

  Damon smiled. “The photos were Hunter’s swan song, but they weren’t mine. I have more handles than faces, and a fresh IP address for each one.”

  “I’m surprised the Carmines didn’t take out the whole forum,” I said.

  Damon grinned. “The guys who run it had my back. The Carmines couldn’t complain directly without legitimizing my claim, but I can’t even count the number of hacks that tried to take those pictures down. Those dudes were right on top of it.”

  I nodded. “They were probably thrilled to have an actual conspiracy for a change. Did you read the one where they thought we could turn invisible?”

  Damon looked proud. “Those are my boys.”

  I allowed myself one glance in Kalif’s direction. He knew more about the forums than I did, but he stood with his arms folded, like he didn’t want to join the conversation, even if it had been wise.

  I turned back to Damon. “We’re watching Wendy and Oliver from the inside,” I said. “We can find out if they know where you are.” Though, if they did, I couldn’t imagine why they were leaving him alone.

  Damon looked amused. “Let me get this straight,” he said. “You’re now claiming you’ve infiltrated them and are actively monitoring.”

  He made it sound a lot more clever than it was, but I wasn’t about to divulge that I knew their daughter and grandson. “That’s what I’m saying.”

  Damon laughed again. “You’re an idiot.”

  I cocked an eyebrow. “I’m not the one chained to bed. Practically naked, as you pointed out.”

  Damon ignored the jab. “If you’re monitoring the Carmines, it’s because they’re letting you, waiting to give you a false lead. They’re just reeling you in. It’s how they work.”

  My skin went cold. Listening to Damon did nothing to quiet the fears I still had about my mom. But there was a lot to the situation he didn’t know. “Maybe so,” I said. “Or maybe we’re the people who can keep you safe from them. You can wait around here for them to catch up to you, or you can partner with us and take the chance.”

  Damon gave me a long look. I didn’t know him well enough to read his tells, but I was pretty sure he was actually considering it.

  “All right,” he said. “In that case, you’ll need the address, and one more thing.” He waved his fingers at me.

  A hand signal.

  It had been so long since I’d made one with a new shifter—since the first time I met Kalif.

  But even if we didn’t work together, if I ever saw Damon again, we’d need one.

  I heard Kalif’s feet edging toward the window well. He hadn’t seen the gesture, but I already knew he didn’t want me going closer.

  Cover me, I thought at him.

  And he would. I didn’t even have to ask.

  I dropped down into the room, then worked my way toward the edge of the bed. I grabbed his chair and used the legs to fish out the jeans, bringing them over to me without getting my head within range of his legs.

  There was a cell phone in the back pocket.

  “It’s in the contacts,” Damon said. “Under A for Asshole.”

  I found it, literally right where he said. “Fitting,” I said.

  Damon’s eyebrows went up, and I realized that he hadn’t known what I thought about Mel until that moment. For all he knew, Mel was my best friend. My boyfriend. My mom.

  Of all the things I could have given away, that was probably the least dangerous.

  I dropped the pants, and put the cell phone in my own pocket.

  Damon’s wrist strained against the cuffs, inclining toward me. “Well?” he asked. “Partners?”

  I met his eyes. They were amber at the centers and charcoal at the edges, like a gemstone charred in a fire. They almost looked airbrushed.

  This guy really did think a lot of himself.

  “I’m not alone,” I said. “There are others waiting for me outside. And if I so much as squeak, they will all come down on you, guns blazing.”

  The corners of Damon’s mouth ticked up. I could tell that he thought I was lying, and I was about the guns. I was sure that Kalif was about ready to kill me for this risk.

  But he was also no doubt ready to kill Damon, so it wasn’t a total bluff.

  I edged around the bed and picked up the Taser from where I’d dropped it on the floor. I held it in my left hand—the one that wouldn’t be holding on to his.

  “One wrong move,” I said, “And I’ll fry you. Then I’m out the door. You can starve to death there for all I care.”

  Damon’s eyes crinkled. “Your fantasies are hardcore.”

  Ack. It was time to get this over with.

  I waded toward the bed, watching my feet to avoid a repeat of the cocktail dress incident. I held
the Taser out in front of me, firmly, so he wouldn’t be able to snatch it away.

  I moved closer, inch by inch, working my way around the bed out of range of his legs. I approached next to the nightstand, reaching over the mountain of soda cans.

  From the farthest angle possible, I took his hand.

  Damon smiled, his grip relaxed. His palm was rough and callused. If that was real, and not just part of the signal, it would be a liability for him, since the calluses were essentially scars and couldn’t be shifted away. His hand enveloped mine, but he didn’t tug on my wrist to pull me down. Instead he adjusted his muscles, so that the tendons attached to his thumb bulged, while the ones controlling his pinkies shrank. I softened my own palm, still looking Damon in the eye.

  He established the second part of the signal—the part we’d give after receiving the confirmation of the first—by reversing his muscles’ growth and atrophy; I stretched the skin across the center tighter, so it slid subtly against his.

  And then his hand went limp against mine.

  He let me go.

  I stepped quickly backward, edging my way back around to the window.

  Damon nodded down at my pocket, where his phone stuck out. “If you’re going to take that, let me give you another number to reach me at. Since you’ll need it.”

  I took out my own phone and looked at him. He rattled one off, and I put it in. I wondered if it was a disposable, or if he’d given me something traceable. I didn’t usually have my own disposables memorized. I went through too many, too fast.

  In Damon’s line of work, I imagined he did, too.

  As I moved for the window, he didn’t even ask me to uncuff him. “I hope you find the bastard who did this to me. And if you do, let me have a piece of him, would you?”

  I looked down at my phone. This could be a trap, but it could also be a lead.

  We’d have to approach it carefully, like always, but it was something. “Thanks,” I said. “I’ll call 911 for you as soon as we’re gone.”

  “Good thing,” Damon said. “I have an apartment to pack.”

  I nodded. Of course he wouldn’t stay in that apartment, now that I’d tracked him there, even if he was planning to work with us. He might be hiding from me, but definitely from others who might have followed me here.

  I could watch, of course, and see where he went, but he’d be trying to lose me, so it would be tough. The number he’d given me might be fake, but he hadn’t tried to hurt me when I’d gone for the hand signal.

  If I wanted him to be of use later, I could minimize my risk, but I had to extend at least a tiny bit of trust. Damon could be a resource for us, but only if he wanted to be.

  I climbed back into the window well.

  “Later, Alice,” he said, winking at me again. “You could have used the door to leave, you know.”

  I turned around and rolled my eyes at him. “Maybe I have a thing for windows,” I said.

  As I hoisted myself back onto the grass, I could hear Damon behind me, laughing.

  Seventeen

  As I walked away from the window, I didn’t speak to Kalif. I didn’t want Damon to know he’d been there. Instead, I transferred the address from Damon’s phone into mine, then dropped his phone on the grass. I couldn’t take it with me—too much chance he could trace the thing. Leaving the apartment with it had mostly been for show.

  I moved toward the car, and Kalif followed me, but I still didn’t have to look at him to know that he was glaring. I finally looked up at him, giving him half a smile, but he didn’t return it.

  Crap. I couldn’t exactly blame him, but I also didn’t want him to be mad.

  Kalif held his tongue until we got in the car. He climbed into the driver’s seat and turned on me. “What the hell was that?”

  I held up my hands. “I know. I took some risks. But I got us this address and a potential ally, so it wasn’t for nothing.”

  Kalif’s hands were shaking, and I hoped that was from nervousness and not from anger. I reached out and took one of them in mine. It really hadn’t been fair of me to leave him outside helpless like that. If I’d been in his position, I would have come unglued.

  He squeezed my hand tight, and I counted myself lucky he didn’t pull away. When he spoke, I could tell he was trying to hold his tone even. “What we’ve got,” he said, "is another person who’ll probably stalk us.”

  “Maybe,” I said. “But everyone else who’s after us wants us dead or worse, so this guy might be an improvement.”

  Kalif let go of my hand to start the car and stared straight ahead.

  I put a hand on his arm. “I know you don’t like me taking risks. But think what we could do with three people. That’s why my parents agreed to work with yours, remember? Because four shifters were better than two.”

  Kalif bristled. “And that worked out great for your father, right?”

  My stomach dropped. I pulled back my hand.

  Kalif winced. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. There’s no excuse.”

  “I met you because they worked together,” I said.

  He knocked his head back against the head rest. “Okay,” he said. “That’s officially the stupidest thing I’ve ever said.”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I’m sure if I thought hard enough, I could come up with something stupider.”

  The corner of Kalif’s mouth quirked up, so he must not have been totally livid.

  “I get what you meant,” I said quietly. “We have to assume all shifters are dangerous. But what about our plan? We were going to find other shifters and build a network, remember? How are we going to do that if you won’t give anyone a chance?”

  Kalif shook his head. “I just don’t get why you want to work with him. We know nothing about him. It seems like an unnecessary risk.”

  He was right it was a risk, but it didn’t feel unnecessary. Wendy and Oliver had so many assets on their side. Yes, I had Kalif. But the two of us against everyone else?

  We needed help. “I just think the more people we have on our side, the better. And this guy has already defied the Carmines. That makes him a great potential ally.”

  Kalif gripped the steering wheel. “And I think the more people we have on our side, the more likely it is that someone will turn on us.”

  I could see his point, but I still hated it.

  “So what do I do?” I asked. “Never talk to anyone but you?”

  He gave me a hurt look.

  “Argh,” I said. “Don’t take it like that. You know that’s not how I meant it.” But he had a point. Two days ago I would have died to be able to spend time with Kalif, and only Kalif. So now that I had him here, why was I trying to bring on someone else?

  Kalif just looked at me, like he was measuring my soul and finding it wanting.

  And I couldn’t help but wonder if this was all because Damon’s psyche built him the body of a Greek god turned rock star. Kalif hadn’t seen that—had he? How close had he been watching when I went inside? “I’m not interested in him,” I said, "if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  Kalif didn’t miss a beat, so he must have been thinking it. “Then what’s the attraction?”

  I closed my eyes. I didn’t love his phrasing, but I understood what he meant. But how could I find the perfect words to express what I could hardly explain to myself?

  And then I knew.

  “It’s because of my mother,” I said.

  Confusion etched across his face.

  “No, really,” I said. “It’s because I don’t want to be her.”

  He looked at me, his eyes searching. “And by that you mean . . .”

  I put a hand on his shoulder. “I just don’t think it’s healthy for you to be the only person I know.”

  Kalif’s face softened, and he let go of the steering wheel to cover my hand with his.

  I spoke softly. “I don’t think anybody should have one person who is their whole entire world, because
then if that person disappears, you’re just falling without a net.”

  He stiffened, looking up at the ceiling of the car. “And this guy is the net.”

  Ugh. No matter what I said, I was just digging a deeper hole. “He’s a potential net, okay? A new person I might be friends with, if he turns out not to be a psychopath like everyone else we know. Everyone can’t be evil, can they? Can’t we have any friends?”

  “Yeah,” Kalif said. “We can have friends. Of course we can.”

  I raised an eyebrow at him.

  He held up his hands. “I’m just saying, on principle, obviously having friends is a thing we can do. I’m not going to stop you.”

  “So you’re okay with working with Damon, then.”

  Kalif cringed. “It has to be him? Really?”

  I sighed. “Can you name any other shifters who aren’t trying to kill us?”

  Kalif couldn’t, and he didn’t look happy about that. I wanted to point out that he’d just said we didn’t know a thing about Damon, so this shouldn’t be an issue until we learned something about him that was an actual problem. But I’d just seen Damon’s internal vision of himself, and his overblown ego was literally etched into every muscle in his body. From Kalif’s reaction, I guessed he’d caught a peek.

  While I couldn’t admit this to Kalif, I kind of liked Damon. More than the physical thing, Damon carried himself with confidence, and I liked him for that alone.

  But that didn’t mean I wanted to date him.

  “We should be careful,” I said. “More than careful. Paranoid and skeptical, like always, all right? But even so, I want to give him a chance.”

  Kalif frowned. “The guy just rubs me the wrong way, is all. And I still don’t trust him. But I have to admit, the Hunter stunt was impressive. Taking pictures of the Carmines’ home faces? The guy has balls.”

  I winced at the reference. That was the one part of him I hadn’t actually seen, thank goodness. “I won’t trust him,” I said. “Not until we both agree he’s safe, okay?”

  Kalif hesitated, rubbing the steering wheel with his thumb. And then he nodded. “Fine,” he said.

  He still didn’t look happy, but grudging agreement seemed like the best I was going to get.