by C. M. Fenn
I grip my keys tightly, regretting now that I drive such an old vehicle, one without automatic locks. Getting the right key ready, I make up my mind to move. I look around one last time for any help, and, finding no one, I rush forward.
I make it to my door. I try desperately to find the key hole in the enveloping shadows. In my blind panic my senses have dulled. This is taking too long. All I can hear is my breath and my heart pounding and the frantic jingling of keys.
COME ON! Where are you?!
Finally I find it. I slide my key in and turn. The old, heavy door creaks loudly as I pull it open. I can see the phone on the passenger seat. I climb inside and, reaching for the phone, pull the door closed behind me.
Made it!
Only the door doesn’t close. At the last second, it stops. I pull harder, choking down a sob of terror, not wanting to turn around and see what’s stopped it.
No! I’m so close!
The phone’s in my hand. I push the home screen button and it lights up as the door is yanked open and out of my grasp.
And then I hear it—a distinctly metallic click-click. A sound I’ve heard before.
“Give me the phone,” the silk voice says.
When I turn around, I’m looking into the barrel of a large, black handgun.
Chapter 35
Cold dark eyes stare back at me from behind the raised gun.
“I said,” he repeats in a quiet but deadly voice, “give me the phone.”
Numbly, I pass the phone to him. He slips it into his pocket.
“Get out.” He reaches behind him and opens the back passenger door of the SUV.
I know my reflexes are fast. I try and gauge the distance to the gun and whether or not I can reach it before he squeezes the trigger.
“Don’t try it.” I look into his eyes. “I will shoot you. I will shoot you right …” he presses the gun hard into the center of my forehead, “here.” He licks his lips eagerly as a dreamy smile spreads across his face. “I have no qualms with that.”
He means it. I have no choice for now but to do what he says. I slide down off the seat, which puts me very close to him. I can smell his acrid breath.
Now that I’m out of my truck, I see the Greater Shade hovering in its usual place behind Crowe. It seems to be pulsating with eager anticipation for the horrors undoubtedly planned for me. Grabbing my left arm above my elbow, Crowe guides me into the SUV. He’s surprisingly gentle. This isn’t comforting; rather, it leads me to imagine he’s done this many times before and is sure of himself and his methods.
“Atta girl,” he whispers.
My father’s voice echoes in my mind—advice he gave me years before. If someone ever tries to harm you, Addy, tries to take you, never leave with them. Even if threatened, you fight back. The chances of someone surviving an attack dramatically decrease after they’re taken to a second location.
I hear the truth in my father’s words. If I leave this parking lot tonight, with this man, I will be killed, so I decide that if I’m going to die, I might as well die here, fighting. As Crowe leans across me to buckle me into my chair, he takes his eyes off me for a fraction of a second.
NOW.
Before I can move, however, something flashes and catches my eye. Behind Crowe, in the shadows surrounding the Greater Shade, a glint, a gleam of silver appears and disappears. I stare into the darkness trying to identify what I just saw. I look at the Shade. Its face is frozen, its maw opened in a noiseless scream as its head slowly slides from its shoulders and thumps to the ground.
Crowe, though unaware of even the existence of his nefarious partner, must sense the beast’s demise in some instinctual way because he whips his head around to look behind him—and I strike.
Sweeping my left forearm out, I knock the gun from Crowe’s hand while simultaneously shifting my body to the right. I put all my strength behind the kick I deliver to the center of his chest. The force of it sends him back into the side of my truck bed, striking hard enough to leave a dent.
Eyes wide in disbelief, Crowe slides down the side of my truck and lands in a puddle of thick, oily Shade blood that has seeped from the headless corpse next to him. Wheezing, he rolls onto his side and attempts to get back up.
Two curved, silver blades reach from the darkness and strike with viper-like speed. Again and again they work their deadly craft on Crowe. I witness the bloody scene in a state of shock, watching but not really seeing. When the deed is done, the Shade and the mad man lie in a messy heap on the ground.
Mikhail stands and wipes his blades on his pant legs. Sheathing his weapons into place on his back, he turns to me and speaks quickly.
“Adelaide, we must go.” He reaches out a hand.
I stare at the blood on his extended arm—dark red mixed with black oil.
“Quickly!” he snaps urgently.
I grab his hand and he yanks me from the SUV, wraps his arms around me tightly, and together we fall backwards and into darkness.
Chapter 36
When the world stops spinning, I’m lying flat on my back under Mikhail’s full weight. We’re lying on something soft though it’s too dark to see exactly what it is. I feel the Russian’s weight shift and a light clicks on. I recognize my own room around me.
“Stay here,” Mikhail says as he rolls off me and runs to my closet. He opens the door and, still stunned, I barely manage to sit up in time to see him disappear into the blackness within.
I don’t know how long I sit there on my bed staring at the closet. At least ten minutes pass before the roar of a familiar engine snaps me out of my stupor. I get up and look out my window to see my truck parked in the driveway. It’s already turned off and the cab is empty. A jingling draws my attention back to the closet. Mikhail steps from the darkness and places my keys and a blood-smeared phone on my desk.
“Did he hurt you?” he asks, his steel-colored eyes anxious.
Even though I shake my head “no,” he still takes a minute to examine me.
“How—” I begin, but he interrupts me.
“You should keep your phone on you,” he chastises. “You were completely unprepared.”
“I know. I’m sorry,” I say lamely.
As if on cue, my phone buzzes on my wooden desktop.
I loathe to touch the blood-covered phone, so I use a towel from my laundry basket to wipe it clean as best I can. It buzzes again in my hands and the screen lights up.
Nine missed calls. Six voicemails. Twelve text messages.
I read the first few texts.
From Ember: “Addy are you okay?! Angel says you’re in trouble.”
From Sam: “Adelaide. Call me now.”
From Mel: “Addy! Why aren’t you picking up? Are you hurt?!”
From Oscar: “I am worried about you chica. Please call and tell us you are okay.”
Another from Ember: “What’s going on?! PLEASE CALL ME!”
Another from Sam: “Dammit Addy. Stop whatever you are doing and call now.”
I look up at Mikhail. “Is this how you knew I needed help?” I ask, holding up the phone, my hand visibly shaking. “Did they call you? Did Angel tell you?”
Mikhail avoids my eyes. “You should call them. Let them know you are safe.”
I ignore this. “You saved me AGAIN.”
His gaze drifts toward the closet and his only exit.
“Please don’t go,” I say, desperate now. “If my life is worth being saved, TWICE, aren’t I worth a few words?”
He sighs and his shoulders droop. Finally he meets my gaze.
“Thank you, Mikhail. I can’t believe you got to me so quickly, but I’m grateful. Thank you.”
He stares at me for a moment as if deciding what to say. Then, hesitantly, “I-I check on you.”
He spoke quietly, and his accent is so thick I’m not sure I heard him right. He reads my confused expression and explains further.
“Sometimes, when there’s nothing else,” he gestures vaguely with h
is hands, “I check on you. You are new and … vulnerable.”
“Wait,” I say as I begin to understand, “you’ve been checking on me? For how long?”
He shrugs his shoulders. “Since you came.” He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly.
I think of all those times I felt watched. All those times when I KNEW there was someone observing me. I could never find a source. And now I know. It had always been Mikhail, watching from the shadows. No wonder I never felt any malice behind it. He sees the realization on my face and seems embarrassed.
“And you were checking on me tonight? That’s how you knew I was in trouble?”
He nods shortly.
How did I not recognize it was him all those times? Each Walker has a distinct frequency. I should’ve known it was him. As I try to remember the unique feel of Mikhail’s output, I realize I’ve never actually sensed it. Even now, as I reach out my feelers toward him, I get nothing. Empty space surrounds him. How is that possible? I remember now what Ember told me about him not having a visible aura. I study him curiously, lost in thought.
My phone buzzing in my hands brings me back to the present. I look down to see Sam’s name shining on the screen. My wish to keep talking with Mikhail is strong, but my desire to hear Sam’s voice is stronger.
“I should answer,” I tell Mikhail.
“Goodnight then.” For a second I think he’s going to embrace me then he looks down at his blood-covered clothes and instead walks toward my dark closet.
“I owe you, Mikhail,” I say abruptly. He turns before disappearing. “I know that sounds lame and incredibly inadequate but I mean it. I’ll pay you back for this …” I nod insistently, “somehow.”
He smiles at me for the first time ever then turns and, stepping forward, fades from view.
Chapter 37
“I’m all right,” I say into the phone as I sink onto my bed.
“Where in the hell have you been?” Sam demands.
Surprised at his anger, it takes me a second to find my voice. “I—”
“I’ve been calling you nonstop. Why didn’t you answer?”
“I left my phone in my truck. There was a Greater Shade. I couldn’t get to it,” I spit out as fast as I can.
“A Greater Shade? There?”
“Yes. At my art show.”
“Is it still there?” Sam’s voice sounds urgent but controlled.
“No. It’s dead. Mikhail killed it.”
A pause, then, “Are you in any immediate danger right now?”
“No, I’m at my hou—”
“Then get to Major Calm as quickly as you can,” Sam orders and hangs up before I can say another word.
What’s going on? Why does he sound so mad? So much has happened in the last half hour that I can barely process everything. I stare absently at some faint blood smears Mikhail left on my comforter. I look down at my dress. Blood splatter has forever ruined it.
Blood.
Blood from Matthew Crowe. That disgusting man’s tainted blood is on me! On my bed!
In a rush I kick off my shoes. I pull the dress up and off my body and take off everything I have on underneath. I even rip the pins from my hair. Everything from this night must go—even the Walker phone and the towel I used to clean it.
I throw all of it onto my bed and frantically ball up the comforter around them. I yank my sheets off and even my pillows. I take everything and shove it into the farthest corner of my closet and slam the door closed. Panting and sweating, I lean back against the door.
I wish my closet was a furnace. I wish everything inside would go up in flames. At the very least, I wish this door had a lock.
A flash in my mind—Crowe, licking his lips eagerly.
The thought of the blood and Shade ichor behind the door is enough to make my skin itch and crawl. I won’t be able to sleep in this room tonight.
Sam wants me in Major Calm right now. He sounded angry and though I don’t want to upset him even more, there are things I have to take care of. I wrap an old towel around me and walk to the bathroom. In the shower I make the water as hot as I can stand it and scrub myself from head to toe.
A flash—blood sprays across the front of me as Mikhail slashes a deadly arc through Crowe’s darkened form.
I scrub harder, rinse, and start again.
There’s a knock on the bathroom door.
“Addy?”
I have to struggle to speak. “Yeah Mom?”
“I didn’t hear you come in. Are you all right, honey?”
I turn the water off and step out.
“Mostly. Just a little queasy. I must have eaten something bad.”
Crowe’s body in bloody, unrecognizable pieces. Lumps on the pavement.
“Okay, well, maybe you should go to bed,” she says through the closed door. “Let your body rest.”
“I will.”
I DON’T go back into my own room. I go straight to Jana’s and pull some of her clothes from her dresser. I stare at the ceiling from under the covers of her bed. I try with difficulty to push violent images from my mind, and for the first time in a while, I think of how grateful I am that I can no longer dream.
Chapter 38
Before I can even open my eyes I feel hands in mine. I awake to find Ember sitting on my right and Mel on my left. Both have one of my hands in a tight grip and both carry expressions of relief and curiosity.
I sit up and throw myself into their arms.
“I knew you’d make it through!” Mel says happily.
“Was it bad?” Ember asks.
I nod, too choked with emotion to speak.
Leaning back, I watch two pairs of eyes quickly scan for obvious injuries.
“I’m not hurt. Just freaked out a bit,” I say, smoothing my hair back out of my face.
Ember nods knowingly. “For good reason too.”
“Boss wants you in the conference room,” Mel says apologetically. “He’s already got Mikhail in there. We have an idea of what happened, but he still wants a full debriefing.”
“He’s angry,” I say, worried about facing him.
They both shake their heads.
“No, he isn’t, Addy,” Ember says reassuringly. “He’s worried, like the rest of us.”
I look into her emerald eyes and notice they’re red-rimmed. “I’m sorry I worried you.”
She smiles. “We’re Realmwalkers. That sort of thing tends to happen now and then.”
“Will you come with me?” I ask them.
“Of course!” says Mel.
Buoyed by their encouragement, I get up and make sure I’m not a complete mess. I pull my hair back in a quick ponytail and straighten my rumpled clothes.
In the conference room, Mikhail’s sitting behind one of the tables, and Sam’s in his usual place by the podium at the front, his face a storm cloud. Angel’s also here, along with Crank and Ben. Mel joins Ben while Ember and I take a seat at one of the empty tables.
“I’ve heard from Mikhail,” Sam starts as he shuffles through some papers on the podium. “Now it’s your turn. This is an incident report. It’s standard procedure after any Shade encounters top-side.”
“Okay,” I nod. Even from where I’m sitting, I can feel an unhappy energy emanating from him in waves.
“Start at the beginning,” he prompts.
I recant in detail the events of the night. I tell Sam about first seeing the Greater Shade and Crowe during my art show. Reluctantly, I admit I left my phone behind. I tell how Crowe found me in the parking lot, cornered me in my truck, and then forced me into his vehicle. I look at Mikhail as I tell how he showed up and killed the Greater Shade and then Crowe. I push the images of gore back down when they threaten to rise up and overtake me.
Through the whole retelling, Sam glares down at the papers on his podium. Occasionally he’ll jot down a note here, a detail there. When I’m done, I sit quietly and wait for him to finish scribbling.
After a minute he asks, without look
ing up, “Is that all?”
“Yes,” I say, taken back by his coldness and apparent disinterest.
“Okay. Good work, Mikhail.” Mikhail inclines his head in acknowledgement.
“Adelaide,” Sam says, finally looking at me. “Mikhail says you fought back, kicked the man?”
“Once, yes.”
“Good. Though next time, don’t leave your phone behind. That was negligent and I expect more from you.”
My cheeks get hot as the blood rises in my face. I stare at the table and nod, too embarrassed to even apologize.
Ember covers my hand with hers in a comforting gesture.
“All right, everyone,” Sam finishes, “happy hunting.”
The briefing now over, the others begin chatting and making their way to me. Mikhail promptly gets up and leaves. I’m saddened to see that no one notices. He’s the HERO and no one has any kind words for him.
As Crank, then Angel and Ben hug me and try to squeeze any remaining details out of me, I sense Sam leave the conference room. I try to ignore the hurt I feel at his lack of concern for me.
“Does this happen a lot?” I ask the others.
Mel answers. “Not often. But it does happen.”
Ben nods. “I’m sure it was frightening, Adelaide, but it’s actually a very good thing. This means one less Greater Shade walking the Earth.”
“Do you think it had anything to do with the Shade that’s here? The one that’s so powerful?” I ask.
Angel frowns thoughtfully. “It’s not likely. We haven’t had any breaches here in a while, so the Shade you ran into tonight has probably been top-side for quite some time.”
“But what are the odds of him being there at my art show? And of its human targeting me?” I wonder aloud.
“It’s not really that strange,” Ember says.
Crank bounces on his toes. “Oh that’s right! One came after you once too!”
I look at Ember, surprised. “Really?”
“Yeah. A few of us have had encounters with them top-side. It’s rare, but it happens. They’re probably drawn to us. Maybe they sense who we are.” She shrugs. “There’s so much we don’t know about Greater Shades, even after centuries of fighting them.”
