Chapter 47
Chapter Forty-Seven
~ Shade ~
Ican’t fight it. My muscles lock into place as Queen Krosia’s darkness seeps into every part of me, diving into my nose and sinking into my skin.
My hands become clammy as I realize what the shadow queen is going to do.
She’s going to show me the memory that lies at the heart of my nightmares.
The one I’ve been avoiding and subconsciously protecting myself from for a long time.
She’s going to show me what happened to the girl that died.
Dread and guilt pull me under, and I choke on it as the memory comes into view.
The world changes as a scene appears around me. I’m staring out of the eyes of a past version of me. There’s no alleyway, not yet. I’m in a diner, and I take off my apron, hanging it on a hook on the wall before grabbing my pack from the metal lockers to the side.
“All right, that’s me!” I call out as I slam the locker closed and swing the pack over my shoulder.
“Want me to walk you? I’ll be finished up soon,” a masculine voice replies.
I poke my head through the doorway to where a middle-aged man is busy counting the cash from the till.
Gray strands are just starting to color his cropped sandy hair, and grease is smeared on his white shirt like he’s been to battle with the frier.
He grunts as he finishes counting the notes and scribbles something on a small piece of paper.
Andrew. That’s his name, I think as the memory slowly comes back to me. He was my boss.
“Thanks, but I’m a big girl. I think I can handle walking two blocks,” I reply. I remember that was the best part of working here. It was only two blocks away from my shitty apartment. Even better, the local library was a short train ride away.
Andrew looks up and concern lines his face. “You sure? You know I don’t like it when you’re out walking this late. It makes me worry.”
A smile pulls at my lips. I’ve only been working here for a few weeks, and Andrew already feels like the father I never had.
It’s weird feeling like someone cares. I’m tempted to take him up on his offer, but I don’t.
Knowing my track record, I have no idea how long I’ll be working here, and I don’t want to get used to having someone to rely on.
“I’m sure. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I slip out the back exit, and stride into the alleyway.
Clouds are covering the moon tonight, and I stick close to the streetlamps, walking quickly. This area isn’t too bad during the day, but at night, it gets really creepy. Something clatters on the street behind me, and my heart thuds as I walk even faster.
I’m about to pass a dark alleyway on my right, when a woman’s trembling voice catches my attention. “Please. I don’t want any trouble.”
If I had any survival instincts at all, I’d keep walking, but then I’d always wonder what happened. It’s fine. It’s totally fine. I’m sure someone’s just getting handsy, and whoever this woman is, she’ll give him a piece of her mind and head home.
I turn my head, and it is definitely not fine.
A man with a bald head and baggy jeans, is cornering a young woman in a skimpy black dress and wicked heels that I’m immediately envious of.
She looks to be close to my age, with long blond hair that reaches past her shoulders, and ears full of piercings.
There’s a slight glaze to her eyes and she presses a hand to the wall as she blinks rapidly.
She’s either really drunk…or someone’s given her something.
I chew my lip, not sure what I should do. The bald man moves in closer, running his hand along her hip, and he ignores her when she tries to bat him away unsuccessfully.
Oh, hell no.
I peer around frantically, hoping there’s someone out here who can help. The streets are quiet, but an older guy in a business suit is about to walk past me, and I try to grab his arm and get his attention. “Excuse me, can you please—”
He shrugs me off, glaring at me as he continues on.
Geez. There are times when I enjoy living in the city, and other times when I’m reminded why I prefer fictional characters.
Crap. I really should have taken Andrew up on his offer to walk me home.
“Don’t worry, gorgeous. I’ll take real good care of you,” I hear the bald man say from the alleyway.
I curse then, because I really should have prioritized getting a better phone over that last set of special edition hardcovers I snagged. Preferably a phone that doesn’t go flat every few hours. If I had a working mobile, I could call the cops.
I peer around. The only businesses that might be open include the convenience store that’s a few blocks down, or my diner, but Andrew is probably gone by now.
The woman starts sobbing, and I know I can’t leave her like that.
Before I can stop myself, I’m walking into the alleyway.
“Hey, Candace!” I call out, my heart thumping wildly as I wave my hand.
What are you doing, Shade? I say in a singsong voice to myself.
I think about what’s in my backpack. A plastic water bottle and a book I borrowed from the library with a morally gray dark fae king.
Yeah, I don’t think that’s going to help me.
The woman is still in a daze, but the man sees me and he looks less than enthused.
“I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” I chirp to the woman. “Hurry up! We’re late and they’re waiting for us!”
The woman looks confused, but she stumbles toward me.
The bald man watches silently, and I don’t like the way he’s looking at us. He’s too…unbothered.
Forcing a smile, I wrap my arm around the woman’s shoulders, beaming at her like we’re close friends.
She jerks a little at my touch, before leaning into me. “What are you doing?” she hisses under her breath.
“No idea,” I admit. “Trying to save your life? Who is that creep?”
She shakes her head like she’s trying to clear her mind. “No idea. He’s been following me for a while. Ever since I left my friends at the bar.”
Oh, great. I hope that the man will back off now that she’s no longer alone, but when I peer back, he’s slowly following us. Damn.
We reach the end of the alleyway, and just as we’re about to exit onto the pavement, two more men step out of the darkness against the walls, and they give us wolfish grins.
I jump and barely hold in my scream. “Holy crap, you scared me!” I yelp, clutching at my chest with my free hand. “That’s rude, you know. Now, if you’ll kindly move aside, we have somewhere to be.”
I swear I can feel my heart in my throat, and the woman tenses beside me.
“Oh, you’re not going anywhere, princess,” the man on the right says. He looks like he’s the same age as the balding man, and his sleeves are rolled up, showing a grotesque tattoo with a badly drawn mermaid on his forearm.
“That’s right,” the man on the left adds. “This party is just gettin’ started.”
Yep, it’s official. We’re gonna die. “Well, thanks for the invitation but that doesn’t really work for us.
We have our own party to attend. Our friends are—” My words die in my throat, because the bald guy has crept closer behind us without me realizing, and he pulls out a knife that glints in the weak lamplight.
It’s not some small pocketknife, either.
No, it’s like one of those big hunting knives I’ve seen on the news. Oh, crap.
“What now?” the girl whispers to me.
Truthfully, I haven’t figured that part out yet. Instinctively, I want to scream and wail like a banshee, but it’s like the sound catches in my throat. I force myself to breathe.
“Look, you don’t want to do this,” I say to the men. “Just let us go, and we’ll forget this ever happened.”
The men chuckle darkly, and I let go of the woman to grab my pack, in the hopes I might be able to at least swing it around, but the moment I release her, the guy on the right lunges, pulling the woman to him.
She yells, struggling against his hold, and I try to grab her, but before I can, white-hot pain slashes my back.
I don’t understand what’s happened until I turn my head and find the bald man’s blade tipped with blood.
He cut me! It doesn’t seem real.
“You should’ve kept walkin’,” the guy on the left says, both him and baldie closing in on me.
“And you should learn not to be dicks,” I retort, still reeling from the fact I’m hurt.
The woman shouts as the man holding her starts pressing kisses to the side of her face.
I take a step toward her again, but the guy on the left grabs me and throws me to the ground.
The woman screams at the man holding her, and she slams her heel onto the man’s shoe. His grip on her loosens, and she runs for me, helping me to my feet. Breathing heavily, we stand with our backs pressed against the alleyway wall.
“He’s right, you know,” she says, panting as her gaze frantically looks around at the men cornering us. “You shouldn’t have stopped.”
I shrug. “Someone had to.”
“No,” she says. “That’s not how it works.” She takes off her heels, holding them as if they’re weapons.
“Well, I guess someone forgot to give me the memo. I’ll distract them, and if you see an opening, you run for it. We’ll get out of this. I promise.” Do I want to die? No, but at least one of us can get away.
“What? No,” she hisses back. “I’m not leaving you.”
I swallow hard. “Okay, I’ll take baldie,” I tell her. “I have the bag. That’ll help with the knife.”
“And I’ll take wife beater,” she says, referring to the guy who kissed her, who’s wearing a white sleeveless shirt. “The other guy looks like he’s more of an observer.”
“Okay,” I nod. “Let’s do this.”
Truthfully, I don’t want to do this at all. I want to run away screaming, but it’s obvious these guys aren’t going to let us leave unless we make them, and I figure if we show them we’re willing to fight, they might back off.
Trying to channel my inner badass, I swing my bag at the same time that the woman throws her shoe at wife beater, and I’m completely shocked when I catch baldie off guard and knock the knife from his hands.
We both lunge for the weapon at the same time, but I get to it first. I fall to my belly as my fingers scrabble to grab the handle.
“Watch out!” the woman shouts, and I roll over, lifting the blade as baldie comes for me.
The rest happens in a blur. One moment, he’s shouting at me, his face contorted with fury, and the next, his eyes widen as he stares down in shock at the blade buried deep in his chest. I gasp in horror as blood leaks around his shirt, and his mouth opens and closes again.
His fist slams into my face, once, twice, and the pain has me struggling again. I roll him off me, still gripping the knife, and he falls, not getting back up. My hands shake, blood all over my fingers as I stare at the bald man on the ground.
“Fucking bitch killed Damo!” one of the guys shouts behind me.
There’s a scream, and I turn as wife beater slams the woman’s head against the brick wall, and she falls. The other men run off down the street, and I drop the knife.
What have I done? My entire body trembles, but I stumble to the woman, slamming to my knees beside her. She hasn’t lifted from the ground. Her eyes are open, but she’s breathing heavily, and blood leaks from her head, wetting her hair.
Oh crap. Crap!
“It’s over,” I rasp, my hands shaking. I don’t look at baldie’s lifeless body behind me. Someone walks past the alleyway, and I scream at them to get help.
“Please, it’s over,” I tell the woman again, wishing she would get up.
Her glazed eyes slide to me, and I sob, breaking down.
Why did I think I could do this?
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, hardly able to get the words out. “I’m so freaking sorry. If I hadn’t stabbed him, the others might not have done this.”
“No,” she rasps, and her gaze is distant. “I knew the moment that first guy targeted me, that I wasn’t getting out of this alleyway alive. But it was nice to believe for a little while that I might make it.” She lets out a rattling breath, and she grabs my hand weakly. “I’m Alina, by the way.”
Tears stream down my face as I squeeze her hand back.
“I’m Shay,” I reply softly.
Shay.
My name.
My real name.
Not Shade, but Shay. Shade was the name Blake and I settled on when I was trapped as a crow and she rescued me, but the name my parents gave me before they were killed in a tragic car accident, was Shay. I remember now. The name I’d forgotten.
“Come here, little Shay bug,” Dad’s far off voice sounds in my head, and I choke on a sob. How had I forgotten that?
Alina nods. “Thanks for trying, Shay.”
“Don’t go,” I whimper, my voice cracking as tears stream down my face.
But Alina’s eyes go blank, and she lets go of my hand as her body goes still.
The memory cuts to a graveyard next.
It’s a week later and I stand there alone, a warm breeze teasing my hair as the priest reads a final prayer for Alina’s soul. I don’t even know if she was religious, but it’s standard that all burials get a priest.
Alina Moore. That’s her full name.
I remember it all now. No one else is at the funeral, because like me, Alina has no other family. All she has is…me, the stranger who fought alongside her in that alleyway.
I intend to come back and visit her often, but the nightmares plague me. That night replays in my dreams, and each time I fail to keep her alive. Each time wife beater guy still cracks her head against that wall.
I file multiple reports with the police, but the remaining men are never found, and over time, I stop visiting Alina. I barely work enough shifts to hold onto my shitty apartment, and I withdraw into myself.
The only thing that saves me is the local library.
I spend most of my hours there, escaping into books, and the scene changes to where I’m sitting reading one of my favorite stories about a beast in a castle.
I remember now, that my parents used to read this to me when I was young.
I have vague memories of laughter and nursery rhymes, but they’re hard to grasp hold of.
Romance books become my lifeline, because they always have a happy ending, and I need that.
Every time I read one, it makes the world seem a little less…dark, and eventually, I manage to push back the nightmares. The world seems to go on, and I try to keep myself from drowning.
The memory ends with me still in the local library, surrounded by piles of books. I’m smiling, but inside I’m wondering if anyone can see through my mask. I’m wondering if anyone can see how broken I really am. How I failed, and a girl died because of it.