-Thornton

Only one in ten thousand boys born to women who carry the gene for sorcery have any powers to speak. Usually, it's simple things, clairvoyancy or minor empathic or telekinetic abilities with most hardly able to do even a tenth of what a lesser sorceress can accomplish.

There were only one hundred males in the whole world whose powers even came close to mine, and they were still leagues away from my abilities.

      Having my power, however, was far from a blessing. Being Thornton Preston Winthrop Sterling IV had disadvantages that went beyond being a sorcerer. My parents groomed me to take over my father's company since my first breath. It meant who I was friends with, who I associated with, and who I dated was never completely my choice. The women they thrust in front of me were always from one of the twelve families; each with the surname of the house they were under. This assured direct links to the founding lines of that loose coalition sorcerers around the world founded in the Georgian period; it also meant the women they put before me were as rich as they were well connected.

      At first, I had my pick from the twelve houses; it was all about business with bloodline a distant second before my abilities were thought to be more than middling at best. When my parents discovered the true extent of my gifts, it turned into being all about bloodline and breeding. They dropped the business aspect completely, and all anyone cared about was the power of my mate—not a girlfriend, not a significant other, but mate; my compatibility with this person was second only to the strength of their magic and the purity of their connection to their main line.

            Things used to be so much simpler.

      The wig itched. It was a necessary evil, but that didn’t stop me from wanting to rip it off and pull out all my hair to make the damn thing stop. Music floated on the air, tasteful, classical. The pianist was exceptionally gifted, so much so, that I lingered in the doorway for a moment longer than I had to. The job was simple enough, execute the Sterling heir.

      It had been months since I accepted the opportunity to rid the world of one more spoiled rotten, rich bastard. The process was exhaustive. We—those in my organization—weren’t your run of the mill assassins. No, we had a purpose and a process. We were the balance keepers, those who maintained order amongst the Shifters, Vampires, Magic Users, Faeries and various other preternatural beasties. We tried our best to operate within the confines of human law, however, sometimes that wasn’t possible. Admittedly, I wasn’t as comfortable with this contract as I had been others of a similar nature. Usually, it was obvious what the individual in question had done to bring their fate upon them, this time that wasn’t the case—so I was dragging my feet.

      The tastefully catered fundraiser continued on around me as I shadowed my prey. The time spent stalking was necessary, it was so much easier to lure them in if you were their type.

      Contrary to what everyone likes to say, everyone has a type whether they realize it or not. Types of friends, types of lovers and types of pieces of ass they keep on the side. Outwardly, Mr. Sterling the younger liked tall blondes. But that encrypted folder on his hard drive full of pornography said he liked redheads and petite brunettes on the exotic side—which was why I was chosen. The expensive itchy red wig was to be eye catching. Already I had to wave off the advances of plenty of members from House Sterling, little did they know I was a fox in their henhouse.

      Taking my seat at the bar—I say my seat because I had picked it out weeks ago when I first formulated my plan of attack; it was the perfect one for viewing the tables—I ordered my glass of red wine and went fishing.  Too bad for Mr. Thornton Sterling IV this would not be catch and release.  Sipping that deliciously tart alcohol I cast my eyes out over the banquet tables, searching for my prey. Here fishy fishy.

      My poor unfortunate mark fell into my trap. Our gazes locked, and he actually stood from his table and made his way over. He was more attractive than the photos I had in the file. Those eyes of his went beyond piercing in person. The black suit he wore was expertly tailored, accentuating the natural line of his body, leaving no doubt that under the expensive fabric his body was as well toned as most type A males tended to be. He wore a silver tie with a delicate little damask pattern in thin tarnished lines which almost seemed too much with that swath of silver hair—the telling mark of a male sorcerer.

      “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced. I’m Thorn.” He held out his hand and smiled at me seeming so charming and nice. I could feel his power prodding at me, trying to feel me out. I almost wanted to tell him I was just as rare as he was but I wouldn’t—playing stupid in regards to magic was part of the act.

      “I know who you are, Mr. Sterling,” I purred letting my eyes drink him in. He was just so gorgeous.

      He furrowed his brows a bit, “Oh?”

      “Mhm. I’m your cousin Samantha’s personal assistant from the temp agency. We spoke on the phone yesterday.” I beamed at him.

      “I—” he blushed. “I’m sorry. Iris, right?”

      “Mhm.” I nodded slowly. I had gotten the job working with his cousin since accepting the contract. The name wasn’t mine, but Iris Evans had her own bank account, credit history and even college transcripts—complete with recommendations from actual professors. The Order of Shadows—the organization I worked for—was nothing if not thorough with backgrounds for aliases.

      “Well, Iris, I just came over to say that you look lovely.”

      “Thank you.”

      “Are you…” he stopped himself. I knew what he was going to ask. He couldn’t feel my thoughts or emotions. I was like a blank slate to him, and it was probably the first time in his entire life that he hadn’t been able to read someone’s mind.

      “Am I?” I pushed him, it was always fun to hear what bullshit they’d spin to cover their fuck up.

      “I was going to ask if you were from one of the historic families in the area.” Well played.

      “No, sorry. I’m just a poor girl from Scranton.” I giggled.

      “If you want a permanent position”—he took a card out of his pocket—”call me sometime. One of the perks of having a pointless made up executive title is that I can pretty much do whatever I want. I know those temp places pay garbage wages, and so does Sam. Her last PA quit because she worked the girl for thirty-nine hours to get out of paying for health care. I ripped into her about it. She’s a millionaire, she can spare fifty grand a year and benefits. She spends more than that on getting her dog groomed.”

      “So is this an actual rant, or how you get girls into bed?” I quirked a brow, and he looked off to the side sheepishly chuckling.

      “Oh, it’s a rant, a full on rant.” And just like that, I felt bad about the syringe in the lining of my purse that was going to find its way into his neck by the end of the evening.

      “I think I’ve had too much of this.” I gestured to the wine glass and set it on the bar.

      “Feel like getting some air?” Sometimes I hated how good I was.

      “Sure.” I slipped from the stool.

      In no time at all, we were out on the veranda and oh so alone. The music didn’t reach passed the doors, so we were ensconced by the sounds of the rushing traffic below. Were Thornton Sterling IV not a mark I’d be pleased with myself, but since he was my stomach felt a little sour.  We weren’t out there two minutes before another joined us. I knew what they were before the figure in all black made their move.

      “Fuck,” I hissed under my breath as they started toward us. It was a vampire. I could tell just by the way they moved. Thorn stepped in front of me protectively. The gesture made me roll my eyes. I was a minus null, one of the rarest types of magic users. Not only did magic have no effect on me, but I could also stop all magic used around me. This meant that the vampire’s strength wasn’t an issue—their powers in their basest form were magic.

      Taking the syringe from my purse, I stepped around Thorn as the vampire reached for me. I jammed the syringe in his arm and pressed the depressor—it dropped like a sack of bricks.

      “What—”

      “What am I?” I interrupted Thorn.

      “Yeah, that’s a good start.”

      “Someone who needs you to help me throw the vampire over the edge here before he wakes up.” I knelt on the ground and started searching the body, glancing up now and again to check the party to make certain the kerfuffle hadn’t attracted any lookie-loos.

      “I’ll help you, but I’d like to know what’s going on.”

      “You and me both,” I whispered as I finished searching the vampire. The only thing I found on them was a picture of Thorn and a gun—what sort of shitty vampire needs a gun. “We need to get out of here right after we drop him.”

      “What? Why?”

I growled in frustration at his stupidity. “I don’t have time to explain everything about the world you live in right now. But I promise you I’m going to keep you alive and when it’s safe I’ll tell you what I know.”

      “I don’t need help.” Ooo, big bad Sorcerer. Grunting and with muscles aching, I lifted the vampire’s limp body on the edge of the railing by myself and shoved it over. I watched as it hit the pavement below with a sickening smack—unfortunately, the impact wouldn’t kill a vampire.

      “Best of luck,” I clipped out, snatching my purse off the tile. I didn’t necessarily need him alive to figure out what was going on but it would make it easier. “Can you point me in the direction of the back door?”

      “How did you know?” I wasn’t sure what he was asking, I was betting he was in shock.

      “I guess I’ll find it on my own.”  I tucked the gun into my handbag and stepped back into the ballroom.  I caught other vampires lingering around the edges of the room which hadn’t been there before. They all seemed to blend in so well that if you didn’t know what to look for you’d never notice them. The slight grayish hue to the skin was hard to pick up on if you weren’t trained to see it. Grumbling to myself I stepped back outside and closed the door behind me. “Truth time! I was sent here to kill you.”

      “What!”

      “I’m a Shadow, an executioner specifically.” I swept my hair to the side and showed off the tattoo on the back of my neck that marked me as such. “I was given a contract on you two months ago. My files never have the crimes on them but… generally, I can figure out why they need to die—except you.”

      “I haven’t done anything. I swear.”

      “Oh, I believe you. I wasn’t sure until tall, pale and fangy down there showed up though. To get to the bottom of this, I’m going to need to keep you alive—that means you doing everything I say. Can you handle that?”

      “Sure.”

      “Think on that for a few more seconds and be completely certain before you give your answer.”

      “Why would I need to think about it?”

      “Because you live in a world of rules, Thorn. And I’m about to drag you from that into a place that has only one.”

      “What’s the one rule?”

      “Survive.”

      He swallowed, but after a few moments nodded. “I’m sure.”

      “Good. Now light the piano on fire.” I checked the window, the vampires were on their way to the double doors which were only a handful of feet from where I stood.

      “What?”

      “Light the fucking piano on fire.”

      “That’s—”

      “Against your rules, I know. Trust me, I’m betting your family’d rather people tell tales of a spontaneously combusting fucking piano as opposed to one of you getting ripped to shreds by vampires in front of them.”

      “Fine.” He sighed and reached his hand out toward the white grand piano, and almost instantly it burst into high greedy flames. The gathered people panicked and screamed starting a commotion that drew all attention.

      “Follow me and keep close.” I took the gun out of my purse and slipped into the ballroom while chaos ensued around me, and Thorn followed steps behind.

      We were almost to the kitchen’s double doors when three vampires exited them. I spun on my heels and grabbed Thorn’s jacket tugging him into a nearby utility closet.  There was just enough space for us to wriggle around and the scent of harsh cleaners was strong enough to mask our presence from the vampires—that is if none of them saw us enter.

      “I—”

      “Shh!” I hissed holding my finger up to my lips. I couldn’t hear what was going on outside other than shouting. The indecipherable yells grew louder and were quickly followed by short pops of gunfire. I slapped my hand over Thorn’s mouth. More yelling, more gunshots, more screaming. I knew what we’d find when we opened the door, I had waited it out enough times in the past, it wasn’t a real mystery to me. They were executing everyone at the party to send a message. The guns confused me to some degree, but they made sense if whatever vampire coven was doing it didn’t want there to be evidence that they were involved.  I was the only explanation that made any sense to me.

      More gunfire, closer this time. Shit. I pulled Thorn as close to me as I possibly could just in time for three shots to burst through the door, missing him by inches. He smelled so good even I had to take a moment to appreciate it. Pull it together, Rose. Needless to say, his body pressed to mine was distracting as I listened to whatever was going on outside of the utility closet we were sequestered in. I was hoping I was wrong—for his sake. I couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to be the reason most of my family was murdered. Frankly, if I was completely honest with myself, I didn’t want to deal with the emotional wreck that he’d be if that were the case.

      I wormed my way around him and peeked out the bullet holes back into the ballroom. Unfortunately, I was right. Bodies littered the floor as the piano continued to smolder in the corner. The vampires had gone, they probably cleared out shortly after the shooting. I pulled my hand from Thorn’s mouth.

      “Keep your eyes shut and take my hand.”

      “A-all right.” He held his hand out, and I took it. “Why is it so quiet?” He whispered as we made our way out of the closet. The carnage in the room was amazing, it looked like a scene from a mob movie where a rival family had wiped another out. Bodies were everywhere, some had tried to make it to the door, but most were in a neat line on the ground. It seemed surreal with all of the expensive dresses and suits covered in so much blood. The smell of death was just starting to grow thick in the room.

      “Keep your eyes shut,” I growled again as I pulled him into the kitchen. The staff wasn’t shot execution style, most of them had their necks snapped. Pots boiled over on burners, and a kettle whistled in the otherwise deathly silent room. They were careful not to leave survivors, there was a trail of bodies from the freight elevator all the way to the double doors to the ballroom. I wanted to say it was sloppy but it wasn’t. It was so exact I could almost admire the precision of the strike from an objective perspective. I tapped the button on the elevator to go up. It was habit, I never took the direct route to an exit after a job if I thought people might be looking for me. Glancing around I saw a body nearest us on the floor that was about his size.  “Take off your jacket and put this on.” I stripped the body and held the caterer’s vest out to him.

      “Oh god,” he gasped, and I watched the horror pass over those pale eyes. I’d been what I was for so long that I had forgotten seeing a dead body could be traumatic. Novice Shadows are habituated to death within their first year in the order, so I had been numb to the sight of corpses since I was eleven. Some might argue that it would distort our abilities to connect with people, but I functioned just fine—not as well as some but fine enough to school my inner sociopath most of the time…some of the time… occasionally.

      “We don’t have time to for you to gasp and deal with this. Put on the vest. We have to leave now. Not ten minutes from now after you finish your hissy fit, now.” I threw the garment at him as the doors to the elevator opened. He nodded, took his cellphone out of his jacket and pulled on the vest. The glow from the screen was unmistakable. “And turn that off unless you want to end up like your family in there,” I snapped gesturing to the double doors that lead to the ballroom.  His face twisted but still he nodded, reluctantly tugging on the caterer’s vest.

      “All of them?” He croaked, his eyes glistening with tears yet to be shed.

      “Look, I’m sorry. I just…” I sighed, shaking my head as I stepped into the elevator, he followed me. “I’m sorry.” I pressed the button for the top floor.

      “It’s— thank you.”

      I blinked, that wasn’t the response I had expected at all. “You’re welcome?”

      “I’d be dead if not for you.” He wiped his eyes and smiled weakly. I didn’t point out that at the beginning of the evening I’d intended for him to be dead because of me.

      The doors opened into another kitchen, this one was smaller but more importantly, dark and empty. We made our way to the staff stairwell, once there I sat on the top step, and he joined me. I needed a minute to think, this evening had not gone the way I had hoped. It was in some odd nebulous area between bizarre and business as usual. I took my phone out and dialed my Sybil, it was what we in the Order of Shadows called our handlers and tactical assistants. I hadn’t decided if I was going to tell him about Thorn being alive yet, but I had to check in.

      “Rosie!” As always he picked up right away, sounding as chipper and British as always.

      “Davy, glad you’re happy to hear from me.”

      “Why wouldn’t I be? I always get to have loads of fun when you call me. So what is it this time? Hacking into the morgue’s data bank? Scrambling cell service for a six block radius? Breaking into Google?”

      “Worse.”

      “Pentagon?”

      “Think closer to home.”

      “You want the full file?” His voice fell to the softest whisper.

      “No! I want a picture of a little fluffy kitty playing with some string! Of course I want the full fucking file, Davy! I want to know why. I’ve watched this guy for months now. There’s been nothing and now—” He cut me off.

      “Oh my fucking god.”

      “What?”

      “Two terrible things. I always have fun when you’re closing in on your guilty party.” The sarcasm was thick. “The first I’m sending now, and the second… I feel like I should ask if you’re okay.”

      “The attack at the hotel’s already been reported?”

      “Yeah, it just came through. Were you there?”

      “No, but Iris Evans should have been.”

      “On it. Stay safe, Rosie.”

      “I always do.” I hung up and glanced at Thorn who was looking at his hands with a million-mile stare. I knew I had to say something, but what I didn’t know.

      What do you say to someone who just lost most of their family? I settled on patting his back.  After a bit, I wrapped my arms around him, and he pressed his face to my shoulder. Somehow I felt guilty for all of it like I was responsible for everything that happened. Maybe I was. There was a possibility they executed the family because I waited.

      “C’mon let’s get you somewhere safe.”

      I took him to my apartment because I couldn’t think of anywhere else to go. It was nice to be home, really home. The apartment of Iris Evans was not my apartment. The subtle makeup, red hair and fashion magazine subscriptions weren’t me—and neither were the heels. It was nice to play dress up but after two months of pretending to be someone else it was nice to be me again. I wanted Oreos. I wanted a fucking cheeseburger; did I mention that Iris Evans was a vegan?

      “Just sit anywhere,” I gestured around the small one bedroom as I slipped from my constricting shoes. Wriggling my toes against the carpet, I purred happily at the sensation of the soft loops against my skin. After locking the door, I headed into the kitchen without pausing and opened the freezer. “Want anything? I have Oreos and hot pockets.”

      “I haven’t had Oreos since university.”

      “Oreos it is. I don’t have milk or anything, but I have…” I opened the fridge and scrunched my nose at the emptiness broken by a half filled case of something.  “Hard cider,” I read the label as I held it out to him.

      “Thanks,” he smiled weakly at me and for the first time in my life I got to see Sorcerer Eyes up close and personal.

       At first glance, they were blue-gray, but if you stared at them long enough, you noticed that they were a pale shimmering silver ringed with navy on the outside and inside. I almost wondered how those without powers thought about them, then I remembered they probably didn’t see them the same way I did.

      “Do you glamor your eyes?” I asked making my way to the cupboard.

      “Yeah, my mother told me it was for my protection.”

      “And your hair?” I climbed onto the top of the counter and pulled myself to standing before taking the blue sealed package of cookies off the top shelf.

      “The hair was never a problem; everyone assumes it’s a dye job.”

      “I could see that—your roots are hella dark.” I tossed the blue package to him before jumping off the counter. “I can’t see the glamor because I’m a null but when the light catches them well… It’s a pity the rest of the world can’t see that.”

      “Are you hitting on me within hours of my family being murdered?” Oops. He didn’t seem upset by it. At least not as upset as I’d think someone really offended by my statement would have been.

      “N-no, I was just making conversation”—about how fine your sexy ass is—“Sorry it was taken the wrong way.”

      “Oh, I’m—“ he shook his head. “I’m just in a weird spot right now.”

      “Understandable.”

      After plucking the cookies from his hand, I made my way into the Spartanesque living room. It had only a couch, coffee table and television in it. In short, Ikea looked more lived in. It came from my training. When you’re groomed not to leave a trace behind that has an unfortunate tendency to seep into other aspects of your life as well. There were no paintings, pictures or magazines. No idle clutter. Nothing. The sterile white of the walls and the odd beige of the carpet were allowed to shine through in all of their banal glory. It was a standard generic apartment.

      It was odd that I lived by myself. The other Shadows lived in an old gothic manor that masqueraded as a private school in the middle of the city. I couldn’t live there. The moment I turned eighteen, I moved out. I didn’t like the level of surveillance that went on and whereas I wasn’t stupid enough to think that my apartment was bug-free it wasn’t even a tenth of what went on in that controlled insular community.

      I flopped down on the couch and opened the package of Oreos. I took two and set the package on the table. Thorn joined me almost immediately, taking a seat beside me and snatching up a handful of cookies. He nibbled on them tentatively as I took my tablet out of the drawer and connected to my secure server.

      It was clear within moments of me opening the file Davy had sent that something was up. I wasn’t certain what I had expected the full file to look like. I had never seen one before—though I knew of other executioners who had their Sybils hack them. The file was hardly larger than what I was given, there was no mention of guilt or even of a crime. My stomach churned, and I set my cookies back in the tray.

      “Fuck.” I gently put the tablet on the table really wishing I could have thrown it across the room without risking it breaking.

      The implications were troubling; someone had decided for whatever reason that Thornton Sterling IV needed to die. It wasn’t that he had done anything considered illegal, the lack of anything in the file meant the Camera Umbra—the judge and jury of the preternatural community—had gotten together and decided for some arbitrary reason his life was void. Maybe Davy didn’t get the whole file. I rationalized away what could only be described as terror.

      “Are you alright?”

      “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” I turned and faced him with a weak smile.

      “You look…scared. I think. I’m not used to being unable to read people.”

      “Well get used to it because we’ll be roomies for a while.”

      “O-oh.”

      “Yeah, you’re not going to be able to go back to that super posh lifestyle of yours for a bit.” I stood and stretched.

      “So people are just going to think I’m dead?”

      “Nah. Tomorrow, on my way to work, we’ll post a video of you on some social media site saying you’re alive and you’re going to your cabin or some shit.”

      “You know about the cabin?”

      “Nope. I was just guessing. Crazy rich sons of billionaires tend to have things like cabins and villas.”

      “Why do I get the feeling you don’t like me?”

      “It’s not that.” I started walking toward the bedroom. “I just—I’m not good with people.”

      “Is it because you’re a Shadow?”

      “Nope. Even before I started my training, I was a little weird. It’s probably because I’m a minus null. When we’re children, we don’t feel people. It’s really hard to put into words. The closest thing I can think of is… I spent the first eleven years of my life wrapped in a big thick psychic blanket. So more or less I’m the monkey with metal mommy.”

      “What?”

      “There was a psychologist who did experiments on monkeys in the nineteen fifties. He put infant monkeys with surrogate mothers, one made of cloth and one made of wire. Both ended up supremely fucked up but the wire ones more so. My supreme lack of abilities made it impossible for me to bond with my parents or anyone during my formative years really.”

      “I’m sorry.”

      “Don’t be. Who needs attachment right?” I scoffed.

      “Have you ever bonded with anyone?”

      I snorted and rolled my eyes. “Nope,” I answered, slipping into the bedroom. “You can sleep on the bed. I’ll take the ottoman if you’re not comfortable with me sleeping next to you.” Stifling a yawn, I turned to find him lurking in the doorway behind me.

      “That’s okay, I couldn’t put you out of your own bed.”

      “I don’t have anything in the way of clothes to offer you.”

      “It’s fine.”

      Without thinking, I unzipped and wriggled out of my dress, tossing the sequined nightmare into the opened closet. I moaned as I was finally able to relax, the fabric was a bit stiff, and I had been in it for hours.

      Behind me, Thorn sucked in a quick breath, and I turned around, flashing him a smirk. I knew how I looked, that’s not why I stripped, but I was well aware of the effect my body had on some. I had an ideal shape more or less from all of my training. Oreo binges aside, going up against Vampires and Werebeasties had left me pretty fit. If not for my breasts and hips I could have fit into sample size clothes, but I had birthing hips and a balcony fit for Shakespeare—which meant buying clothing was an odd limbo between too loose and too tight. But when naked I pretty much commanded the room. Which was why Thorn was staring slackjawed like he wasn’t expecting my shape to come out of that dress. There was always the possibly he hadn’t contemplated it.

      “What was that you said about losing all your family?” I added nonchalantly as I walked over to the dresser and pulled out a pair of pajama pants and a tank top.

      “Maybe I’m just looking for a distraction?”

      “You’ll have plenty of time for that tomorrow. I’m going to get you a job and introduce you to Davy’s sister.”

      “What?”

      “You need to be somewhere safe during the day, and I can’t have you around me at work.” I took off my bra, keeping my back to him.

      “Work?”

      “Yup, I work for a P.I. Firm and you’ll probably be washing dishes. Audrey will welcome the company, I think. Who knows you two might even hit it off?” I bent over and slipped off my thigh high stockings.

      “Y-yeah,” He stammered.

      My guess was he wasn’t actually listening to me; he was probably too busy trying to will me to turn around. I didn’t oblige him. If we did anything the sole purpose would be because he was trying to distract himself and I wasn’t anyone’s distraction—no matter how scrumptious their abs might have been. I dressed then and pulled off the wig. Placing the itch factory on its stand in the closet before fishing the bobby pins from my long dark hair with my other hand.

      My mind was racing. If I had any hope of getting to the bottom of this thing, I was going to have to use every resource I had—and some of those I didn’t have the most stellar relationship with. But I was confident in my abilities to keep him safe for a few years at least if it came to that.

      It had worked for Audrey. I couldn’t bring myself to kill her. It wasn’t that I had a bleeding heart moment, it was that I would have done the same thing were it an option. Someone had attempted to rape her while she was waiting for a train—she used her powers to make him let her go, step on the tracks and lie down with his head on the rail. They caught the whole thing on surveillance camera, and even the appearance of a sorceress using mind control is an automatic death sentence regardless of motive. I thought it was bullshit, so I broke protocol. The only person who knew I hadn’t killed her was Davy—and now Thorn but something told me he wouldn’t squeal.

      The sound of the bed settling drew my attention, and I found Thorn in nothing but boxers on my bed. He looked every bit as perfect as I had imagined, his torso lean and defined like he lived in the gym. His thighs were the same, and in the dim light you could see the muscles in his arms, chest and stomach twitch and contract with every movement. Sweet fuck all, why does he have to be so hot?

      Running my fingers back through my hair I approached the bed and seriously contemplated going back on everything I said about not being a distraction. However, I was considerate enough to acknowledge the truth of the situation. Someone like me was the exact opposite of what he needed. I couldn’t give him that comfort he was really seeking, so I did the humane thing and slipped under the covers without a word. A few minutes passed, and he broke the silence.

      “Could you hold me?” His voice was soft, vulnerable and close to tears.

      “Sure,” I scooted closer to him and wrapped my arms around him savoring the warmth his body offered. We fell asleep like that, me long after he did. He cried for a while, silently mourning his family in my arms as I pushed the guilt away like a six-year-old who refused to eat their broccoli.

Two

      The next morning, I awoke to the delicious aroma of coffee. After sliding out of bed and zombie-ing to the kitchen, I found Thorn at the island reading a book. For a minute I gaped at him. I rarely had a guy stay over, let alone make me what was essentially my breakfast. Needless to say, it was surreal.

      “I thought I should be a good guest and make breakfast, but you don’t have any food,” he exposited as I made my way to the black insulated carafe on the counter.

      “Thank you,” I croaked pouring myself a cup of coffee before loading it up with enough sugar and powdered creamer to give a rhinoceros diabetes. “We’ll stop at a thrift store and get you some clothes to wear. As much as I like looking at you mostly naked, I think polite society might disapprove.”

      “So you are attracted to me?” Damnit! This is what I get for opening my big mouth before coffee.

      “Aren’t I supposed to be? Isn’t that why you clearly spend every waking moment of your life at a gym?”

      “Only three days a week. What about you?”

      “Occupational hazard.” With that, I left him and went to hide my shame in the bathroom while I made myself look like a person and not a swamp monster.

      Twenty minutes later I was showered, dressed and ready to attempt to face the day. My choice of wardrobe was, more or less, standard issue for Shadows; black leather jacket, dark jeans and a simple top, today’s was long-sleeve, boat neck and black. It was a far cry from the skirts and blouses that I had lived in for the last two months. To top it off I wore steel toe boots and not heels. Though I secretly wished I could keep wearing the heels—it was nice to be able to see on top of things and not feel like a four-year-old while at the bank.

       The only thing I did differently from the other Shadows was actually putting effort into my appearance. Most never wore makeup and never did their hair. I was guilty of doing that sometimes, but most of the time I put a few hot curlers in my hair and at least wore eyeliner and lipstick. It was easier to get people to let their guard down and tell you things they might not normally say if they think you’re attractive.

      The morning was a busy one, I took Thorn shopping for clothes, made a mental note to get him a job washing dishes and bar backing at Castella’s—a bar and grille owned by a member of the local werewolf pack who owed me a favor. In time for lunch, we found ourselves at Audrey’s apartment.

      To say it was in the bad part of town would go so far beyond stating the obvious it was sad. Most Shadows even refused to go into the Collins district. Police rarely went there, and fire crews never did. The majority of people who could feel magic kept a wide birth of it as well. Most didn’t know why but I did.

      At the heart of the Collins District was an old brick manor which seemed pristine in comparison to the squalor around it. The yard was kept clean, and none of the gang members bothered the little old Haitian lady that lived there with her butler and servants—I should maybe mention that her butler was her husband who cheated on her, and her servants were zombies— well-preserved zombies, but still zombies. She was a practitioner of some sort, and her magic was startlingly strong. I’d say she practiced Hoodoo or Voodoo, but I was almost certain it was something else maybe something dark left over from the very beginning of those practices.

      Gunfire sounded in the distance, and beside me, Thorn jumped and looked around with wild, frightened eyes. Part of me had a hard time believing he was just that helpless—I wouldn’t say it was an act, but it was certainly something. Then again he did come from the upper crust of society. Audrey could probably help me understand what was going on. I wasn’t just seeing her to check on her, it was also because she had been in that life before.

      “Are you sure we’re safe here?” Thorn asked glancing around nervously.

      “I’m sure they won’t be looking for you here.”

      “So we’re not safe?”

      “That’s cute.”

      “What?”

      “You think safety is something attainable.” I beamed at him and opened the door to the atrium of the apartment building.

      After a moment's pause attempting to unlock the inner door that seemed to refuse to open for me, I started down the hall. Thorn followed me close behind like a scared little puppy. Shouts, screams and the sounds of vigorous sex sounded out from every apartment we passed, muted by the heavy old wooden doors.

       Stopping at apartment twelve I knocked hard and waited. A handful of minutes passed and Audrey opened the door, looking fresh and happy as always. Her hair was blonde, and her skin was pale with a slight dusting of freckles. Her eyes were blue and what I could only describe as eager. There was something about how she smiled that gave off a certain air of excitability that her brother lacked.

      “Rose!” She wrapped her arms around me in a quick hug before stepping back and ushering us into her kitchen. The apartment wasn’t the nicest. The walls were old yellowed paint, and the floor was warped and off level like the building was sinking—and I wasn’t convinced it wasn’t.

      “Rose?” Thorn said my name with a bit of a grin, making me roll my eyes.

      “Audrey this is—”

      “Thornton Sterling IV, I…”

      “Yeah. How did you—”

      “Sterling was a cadet branch of Cavendish before they went to the states. My parents sent me across the pond for him.”

      “And you lost me.”

      “I’m supposed to mate with a powerful sorceress from a pure line,” he explained with tense words.

      “Like an arranged marriage thing?”

      “No, like a—”

      “More like he’s prize winning race horse and they’re hoping to breed other prize-winning race horses.”

      “What? Okay, explain this to me like I’m five.”

      “Okay, say you breed corgis. For some reason whereas your females are always breed standards your males are often subpar, but occasionally you have one that’s passable. You think the best way to amend this defect is to keep breeding the passable male with the best of the females in hopes of rectifying your problem. Unfortunately, this doesn’t seem to change anything, but then with one litter you get an immaculate breed standard male who now comes from champion lines. Thornton is the corgi to end all corgis.”

      I chortled. “I’m sorry.” I had to actually take a minute to regain some composure “So he’s not just powerful for a male?”

      “No, he’s supposedly the most powerful sorcerer we’ve seen ever.”

      “Why would someone want to kill him?”

      “I don’t know. Maybe it’s because House Sterling has been playing God? I heard rumors that Mr. Sterling here is a lab created diamond so to speak.”

      “What?”

      “Supposedly, his mother did invitro, and they fiddled with his DNA a bit. But that’s just rumor.”

      “I can assure you I wasn’t made in a lab,” Thorn huffed.

      “I’m only telling you what I overheard, Darling, nothing more. Speaking of such things, I am so sorry about your family. Your father is still alive, though, your mother too. But the rest of the main house was at the fundraiser.”

      “I guess there’s that,” he whispered rubbing his temples.

      “Rose can keep you safe. She’s kept me safe for a few years now. I even get to see my brother. I’ve had boyfriends that I didn’t select from a book. It’s jarring at first to go from penthouses and caviar to this… but you get to actually live. What we do within the bubble of our society isn’t living. It’s nice to be free.”

      We stayed for a few hours at Audrey’s eating lunch and watching television before leaving. Once out on the street, I found a man with white eyes standing directly in front of the building. He was mannequin still and pointing in the direction that led to that old woman’s home. A few yards from him stood another with white eyes and so on and so forth like some sort of fucked up zombie GPS.

      I followed the path with Thorn because what else was I going to do? I might have been a minus null, but that wouldn’t protect me completely from her wrath. Oh, she couldn’t turn me into a zombie, but there were other things I’m sure she could do. That was why I followed the line of zombies which collected themselves to walk behind us. Their silence was unnerving, the only sound that came from them was the shuffle of their feet.

      “Are we—”

      “If your next word is safe, I swear to fucking God,” I hissed from behind clenched teeth. He fell silent until we reached that immaculate brownstone with its perfect garden.

      Kneeling on a pillow in front of a flower bed was the elderly Haitian woman. She was all smiles when she glanced over her shoulder and saw me. The Zombie conga line filed passed us, up the stairs and into the house as she continued to pluck yellowed leaves from her roses.

      “Rosie, it’s always good to see you,” she spoke as she slowly stood. I was in envy of her skin, smooth and brown it was near lineless. The only place her age showed was on her neck and hands. “We’ll have tea. Do you still take chamomile with milk and two lumps of sugar?”

      “Yes, ma’am,” I answered following her into the house.

      “Does the heir to House Sterling still like peppermint tea?”

      “Still?” I turned and glanced at Thorn.

      “I saw him as a child. His mother brought him when he was hardly forming words. The Sterlings gave me this part of the city, you know. Years and years ago. Payment for services rendered.”

      “What services?” Thorn narrowed his eyes.

      “Things of the past, that are passed even the reach of the Camera Umbra. But you never answered my question, Child.”

      “Yes, I still like peppermint tea.”

      “Good. We’ll have tea and a nice little talk.”

      I wasn’t afraid to say she scared me shitless. I didn’t even know her name, she knew mine, but I had never introduced herself, so I just called her Ma’am. It was better and sounded more respectful than high-supreme-over-lord-for-the-sweet-love-of-fuck-please-don’t-kill-me. So needless to say we all sat in the backyard drinking tea and eating petite fours while the zombies stood around or did housework.

      “Now, I brought you here not just so I can see the type of handsome young man Thornton had turned into, but to ask you a favor, Rosie.”

      “Me?”

      “Mhm, I know you work as a Private Investigator when not fulfilling your duties as a Shadow. Someone who is dear to me—let's call her my granddaughter—is missing.”

      “Are you sure?”

      “Oh yes, I’ve looked down every avenue I could. But my servants can only do so much. I would be willing to pay you as well. Simply name your price, and it is yours.”

      “Two thousand up front and then seven hundred a day.” It was my I-might-die-from-this-case fee.

      “How about six thousand now and a thousand a day. I have a feeling in the pit of my stomach like no other, Rosie dear. I hope I am wrong, but I fear for my girl.” Her voice actually did register as frightened to me.

      “Hopefully I can find her.”

      “Here is the key to her apartment and her address.” A zombie approached carrying a shining silver platter with a house key and card on it. I took them and tucked them into my pocket. “And you’re welcome to question the man who took her from school.”

      “What?”

      “He forced her into a van for someone, he dropped the van at the pier, and they dropped the money at the park under a bench last night.”

      “Last night?” I glanced at Thorn for a moment.

      “Yes, after what happened there I fear for my girl.”

      “I’ll do my best.”

      “I know, Rosie, oh I know. You’re scared shitless of me. But as I told you when you first stumbled into my kingdom here, you’ve nothing to fear from me. I like you. You’re a smart girl.” She then turned her attention to Thorn and pulled her long dreadlocks over her shoulder. “How’s the tea?” After she had spoken, he swayed and face planted on the white linen tablecloth. I drew my gun and pointed it at her before I even realized what I had done—and she laughed at me. “Put that down, you’re making a fool out of yourself.” She waved her hand. “I simply undid what his mother made me do.”

      “And that is?”

      “I’ve been keeping him from his full potential, now he can be all that he was meant to. Finish your tea, and I’ll have one of my servants help him to your car.”



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I hope you enjoyed the preview of Camera Obscura coming this March 31, 2017 wherever e-books are sold.