Stories From the Shadowlands

  She had no idea what was really going on.

  “Henry’s hurt,” Lela said, and her voice was choked off, like she was trying not to cry.

  I waved to Laney as she pulled out of the driveway, such a strange combination of friendly gesture paired with dire thoughts. “Is he with you?”

  “No. I don’t know where he is. Sil sent me a text and a picture. They hurt him so bad, Malachi.” Her voice broke over my name.

  “Where are you?”

  “Ian’s. I’m about to leave. Can you summon Raphael?”

  “I will.”

  “The message from Sil—”

  “What was it?”

  “It said, ‘tonight we won’t be so gentle.’”

  There it was, confirmation that the Mazikin are coming for her tonight, ready to leave a wide swath of damage in their wake. “They won’t touch you.”

  “I’m not worried about me.”

  Of course she wasn’t. She never is. “Get over here. I’ll tell Jim to get ready.”

  “On my way.”

  I summoned Raphael, and he went to find Henry. He told me Henry is alive; he has not appeared in the Shadowlands. So at least I know that.

  Now I am waiting for Lela to arrive. My weapons are ready, and I am ready. They won’t take her. I won’t let it happen.

  If this is the only way I get to love her, so be it.

  Destroying a Nest is Simpler

  Two months after the events of Chaos. Warwick, Rhode Island.

  Malachi stood at the CVS photo counter as the scrawny young clerk pawed through the envelopes until he found the 8x10 marked “Sokol.” He handed it to Malachi, who opened it and peeked inside. There they were. He hoped he’d chosen the right ones.

  “Thank you,” he said, offering up his debit card. As the clerk accepted it, Malachi could not help the tiny, irrational surge of pride he always felt when he’d done something so normal and modern. Of course, it was all thanks to Raphael, who, as a parting gift, perhaps, had made sure Malachi had a birth certificate, a bank account, a deed to the Guard house—everything he could possibly need to begin a normal life in the land of the living. Smiling, he tucked the envelope into his pack, which he swung onto his back as he walked out of the store. The sun was beating down on the asphalt. He strode into the parking lot and turned his face up to the light, closing his eyes and absorbing the July heat.

  He unlocked his little car and got in. It was a used Hyundai—Ian had graciously asked his father, who owned a dealership, to get Malachi a good deal. Malachi wondered if Lela had had anything to do with it. She’d also spent many hours patiently coaching him from the passenger seat. He smiled at the way she would laugh at his mistakes, not with contempt, but with genuine fondness, which helped him take himself less seriously. She had helped him in so many ways.

  He hoped he was helping her now. He glanced down at his phone. Ten minutes until the meeting, or as Tegan had called it, the “summit.” She had warned him that his input would be crucial. He set his pack with its precious cargo in the backseat and drove to the appointed meeting place.

  Tegan had staked out a table in the diner. Her short brown hair was stylishly messy, and she was wearing a strapless shirt that revealed her boney shoulders. Her crutches were propped against the back of the booth. Her ankle had been badly broken when Juri had kidnapped her, Ian, and Diane back in May. She’d only gotten the cast off a few weeks ago, but still needed the crutches. From what Malachi could tell, it hadn’t slowed her down at all. She was frowning as she jabbed at the screen of her phone, but she looked up as he slid into the booth across from her. “Ian and Laney are on their way,” she said. “So. Do you have your plan? Your cover story?”

  “I believe I do.”

  “And does Lela suspect?”

  Malachi shook his head. “She’s been a little preoccupied with her new foster sister, Hailey. Lela’s been helping Diane as much as she can and spending a lot of time with the girl. Between that and her job, I don’t think she’s had time to think about it.”

  Tegan gave him an exasperated look. “A girl always thinks about her birthday, Malachi. And this is a big one.” She grinned. “And we’re going to give her a big party.”

  The wicked glint in her eye made Malachi tense. This big party was taking place at his house. Tegan reached forward and touched his arm. “We have to talk about the drinks. I really think people would have a better time if—”

  “I believe I already made myself clear. There will be no alcohol in my house.” Suddenly he felt his actual age instead of the age he was supposed to be.

  Tegan’s face fell. “But—”

  “Is this party really for Lela, Tegan?”

  She blinked. “Of course.”

  “Then kindly remember that Lela doesn’t drink, and she is wary of people who do. With very good reason.” And his house would remain a safe place for her, always. He didn’t particularly care whether other people had a good time there.

  “I’m just talking about some punch,” Tegan grumbled.

  Malachi sat back, wondering if he was making a huge mistake. “I’m still not sure about this.”

  Tegan perked up and waved a pale, slender hand. “That’s just because you’re out of your element. I bet you’ve never planned or organized anything this big and complicated.”

  He stared at her. For a moment it was hard not to laugh. “And I suppose you are a true expert.”

  “Oh, trust me—I’ve got everything under control.”

  “Define ‘control.’”

  “Sorry we’re late!” called Laney as she and Ian made their way over to the booth. Laney’s cheeks were pink and freckled, and her red hair was pulled up into a ponytail. Ian had on a backwards baseball cap. They looked like they’d just come from the beach.

  Malachi scooted over and Ian plopped down next to him, while Laney sat next to Tegan. “Hey, Malachi,” Ian said, while looking straight ahead.

  “Hey,” Malachi replied. It really could have been so much worse, considering their history. But Ian seemed to have accepted that Lela had chosen Malachi, and he had moved on. Mostly. He and Laney had an on-again-off-again affair going, and it seemed to be mutually satisfying for them. Malachi was glad, as it had reduced the tension somewhat. But not completely.

  “Did you get the helium tanks?” Tegan asked Ian.

  “In my ride,” he said. “If you really want that many balloons, the guy said it would take five tanks. So I got six.”

  “I have the balloons,” Laney said. “The banner, too.”

  “And I picked up the confetti cannons this morning,” Tegan announced, looking gleeful.

  Malachi leaned forward. “Wait. What exactly is a ‘confetti cannon’?”

  “It’s not an actual cannon, dude,” said Ian, probably detecting the sharp alarm rolling off Malachi.

  “Of course it isn’t,” said Tegan. “It’s just a… cylindrical thing. And you twist it and it shoots confetti! Like, at least thirty feet! I got three dozen of them. Each person can have one. And when Lela comes in, surprise!” Tegan waved her arms.

  Malachi swallowed hard. “You are going to shoot Lela with confetti? Without prior warning?”

  “That’s kind of the point of a surprise,” said Laney. “You don’t think she’d like that?”

  “I think it will startle her.”

  “But that’s part of the fun!” trilled Laney. “I screamed so loud at my last surprise party that the neighbors thought I was being murdered.”

  Ian shifted in his seat. “Lela doesn’t seem like much of a screamer.”

  “No, she’s not,” agreed Malachi. “Tegan, please go into this with caution.”

  Her brow furrowed. “Why? The cannons are completely safe.”

  “I believe you. But if you startle Lela, you are taking your life in your hands.”

  Ian chuckled. “I cannot wait to watch this go down.”

  Malachi rubbed his hands over his face and wondered for the millionth time if Le
la’s eighteenth birthday was going to be recorded in his journal as one of his more devastating defeats.

  Malachi pulled into Diane’s driveway and allowed himself a long, slow breath. “It’s going to be all right,” he told himself. “Everyone will survive the evening, and it will be fine.”

  He’d left his house in complete chaos. Ian, Levi, and several other members of the baseball team had been inhaling helium and cursing at each other in high-pitched voices. Tegan had been in his kitchen, chortling over her punch mixture, which she’d placed in a massive plastic container filled with ice and fruit. Laney, Jillian, Alexis, and a few other girls had taken over his living room and were doing some sort of craft that involved scissors and paper and glue. The confetti cannons had been laid out on his table, as ominous and threatening as grenades. Music had been blasting from a set of a small rectangular speakers that Ian had brought, one that connected to his iPhone and spewed all manner of obnoxious, bumping, bouncing tunes. All he’d been able to think was that he hoped Lela liked this kind of music. They rarely listened to music when they were together, and for some stupid reason, he’d never asked her what she preferred.

  A knock on his window startled him back to the here and now. Diane was peering at him from her driveway, her salt-and-pepper hair pulled back into a tight bun, her green-gray prison guard uniform making her look even more intimidating than usual. He got out of the car, his heart picking up speed.

  “You better show her a good time tonight, young man,” she said, but her mouth was upturned into a teasing smile.

  “I am going to do my absolute best.” He glanced up at the windows of the split-level home. “Is she having a good day so far?”

  Diane grasped his arm and squeezed it. “I think it’s been an emotional day for her. But a good one. I just took Hailey over to stay with my sister for the night, but she and Lela and I went out for breakfast this morning, and then we did a little shopping.” She grinned. “Me and my girls.” Then she looked at her watch. “I have to get to work. Make sure my baby has a good birthday, all right?”

  He waved to her as she got into her car, and he headed up the steps. Lela opened the front door before he had a chance to knock, and suddenly Malachi wondered if he should have given himself a few more minutes to prepare. But then again, the sight of her was always a little bit overwhelming for him.

  She’d pulled her mass of curls back away from her face. Her caramel skin had darkened a shade or two with the summer sun, making it even more delectable-looking. She was wearing shorts, sandals, and a very flattering tank top, the overall effect of which was to make Malachi wonder if Tegan would mind if he and Lela were a few hours late to the party.

  “Happy birthday,” he said quietly, reaching out to touch her face, her throat, her shoulder. When she was this close, he had trouble restraining himself.

  She closed her eyes and smiled, her hands meeting his waist. “Thanks.” She pulled him inside and stood on her tiptoes, turning her face up, her full lips waiting for his.

  Well. Diane had said to show her a good time. So he spent a few minutes tasting her mouth, feeling her hands creep up under his shirt, backing her against the wall and stoking the fire between them. Ah, this fire. He’d never known anything to burn hotter, not pain, not hate. Finally, the phone in his pocket buzzed with a text, and he realized he was already running late.

  Breathing hard, he leaned his forehead against hers, and she put her hands on either side of his face. “Why don’t we hang out here for a while?” she murmured. “Hailey’s at Aunt Ro’s, and we could just…” She lured him down for another lush kiss.

  “But the movie…” Malachi said these words with his lips against hers, his body tight and craving, his hands wandering.

  “Screw the movie.” Her hand slid across his abs and up to his chest.

  His phone buzzed again a few minutes later, and Malachi stumbled back. “Um. No, no, I think a movie would be… best.”

  His heart contracted as he caught the flash of hurt on her face before it disappeared, replaced by a fragile smile. “I guess you’re right,” she said. They had agreed to take their time with the physical part of their relationship, but it often felt like revving an engine with the car in neutral. However both of them agreed it was too precious to rush, and had further agreed that if either of them pulled back, for any reason, the other would respect it.

  He took her hand, needing to bring her back to him, hating that he’d caused her even a moment of unnecessary hurt. “How has your day been?”

  “Kind of weird. No more probation, no more foster care. Just me. Except…” Her fingers drifted to her neck, fingertips tracing along a delicate chain with a small key pendant hanging from it.

  He caressed the slope of her shoulder, drawing his fingers toward the pendant. “Did Diane give you this?”

  She nodded. “She said…” Lela pressed her lips together. “She said she wanted me to remember that I always had the key to this house, that it would always be my home.” Her mouth twisted and she looked away, but not before Malachi saw her eyes take on a rare, tearful sheen.

  He smiled. “She loves you very much.”

  “I know,” she whispered. “I know that.” She smiled, her chin trembling. “That’s the weird part.” Her nostrils flared as she drew a sudden breath. “Anyway, Hailey was in a good place this morning, so we went out and did girl stuff. I’m not great at it, but it made Diane happy.”

  “Is Hailey settling in all right?”

  Lela shrugged. “She’s only fifteen, but she’s already been through a lot. Her mom’s an addict and her dad’s long gone. She hangs out with the wrong kind of people and has a tendency to run to them when she’s pissed off or upset. But Diane’s hoping we can give her a stable place here, a safe place.” She looked up at Malachi. “If anyone can do it, she can. That’s what she did for me.”

  “And look at you now,” Malachi said, kissing her forehead, even as his phone buzzed with yet another text. “Ready to go?”

  “Yep. Can we get popcorn?”

  He smiled and took her hand. “It’s your birthday. I’ll get you anything you want.” His stomach did a funny lurch. He was lying to her. They weren’t going to the movies. And he was about to upset her. Once again, he sent a silent wish skyward that all of this would work out. As Lela got into the car, he pulled his phone from his pocket. Three texts from Tegan, whose number was now labeled “Krav Warwick”:

  6:40pm: We’re ready. Release the kraken!

  6:44pm: OK. I didn’t mean that. But really, we’re ready. And waiting.

  6:50pm: Hello? If you punk out on us, I will hunt you down, mister.

  He sent her back a quick reply. On my way. Send the message in 5 min. Then he deleted all their texts.

  He got behind the wheel and set his phone in the cup holder between the two seats, his palms sweating. “Have you read any reviews of this movie?”

  “Nah. I figured it was best to go in without expectations.”

  “I think that’s probably wise,” he mumbled as he backed down the driveway. “Have you heard from any of the others today?”

  “A few happy birthday messages on Facebook,” she said as she looked out the window. “I didn’t really expect more than that.”

  They drove toward the theater in near-silence. Malachi would have loved to talk to her, to really talk to her, but his stomach was in knots. The buzz of his phone was actually a relief. “Can you check that for me?” he asked.

  She picked it up and looked at the screen. “Oh.”

  One syllable, and yet it communicated so much. His chest ached, even as he reminded himself it was a ruse. “What is it?”

  “Your boss. He’s sick, and he’s wondering if you can teach his seven-thirty class.” She looked over at him. “It’s a great opportunity.”

  It would have been. He’d worked there for the last month, ever since he’d done a little research and realized that he’d been taught to fight by a man who’d gone on to found an en
tire martial arts discipline. He’d established himself with the krav maga instructors at the studio, and the owner had given him a chance, though he had no formal certificates. He’d proved himself on the mat. None of them could beat him. He had been assisting during classes, learning how to teach all kinds of students. And he loved it. But he hadn’t yet gotten to teach a class of his own, so this was the perfect excuse. “Oh. I guess it is a good chance to prove myself.”

  “You should totally go, Malachi.”

  They were closer to his place than hers now. “Are you sure?”

  She nodded in his periphery. “It’s fine.”

  She couldn’t fool him. He heard the thread of disappointment running through the words. “I won’t be gone long, Lela. We can make it to the later show.”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  He cringed. I wouldn’t do this to you, he wanted to say. Opportunity or not, on this day, you are all that matters. But he had promised Tegan and all the rest of them that he wouldn’t spoil the surprise. “Great,” he forced himself to say, knowing he sounded like an ass. “I just have to stop by my place to change.”

  She didn’t say a word. Nor did she reach for him as she so often did, touching his thigh or leaning her head on his shoulder as he drove. Why had he ever agreed to a plan that turned him into the bad guy again?

  He pulled up to the curb in front of his house. Not a single car in sight. It would have given everything away immediately, so all their friends had carpooled and parked two blocks away. The windows were dark. Malachi’s heart was pounding so hard that it was difficult to breathe.

  “I can wait in the car,” Lela said. “You can drop me back at home on your way to the studio.”

  “It would be quicker if you just waited in the house. I promise I’ll be back by nine. You could watch television.” On her eighteenth birthday. All alone. How nice.

  “Or I could come watch you?” she asked. “I’d love to see you in action.” She gave him a hopeful smile that made his throat tighten.

  “No, I would be… nervous. Could you just stay here at the house?”

  “But—”