Page 69 of Angel of Water & Shadow

If the bags under my eyes didn’t give it away, my ragged breaths definitely did.

His hand reached for mine, ignoring the spilled tea. “You get it?” he asked, eager but quiet.

I nodded at the card next to the condensation mark where Javi’s drink had sat, lacking the strength to do anything else.

“Sunset Court, Half Moon Bay,” Ryder read aloud. “That’s a few hours from here.” He shuffled the edges of the card against the table. “Well, this’ll take longer than expected. What are your plans tomorrow? Do you have class?”

I shook my head. Not on Fridays. “Hanging out with you.” In any other situation the forwardness would make me feel cool and sexy, but it came out flat and didn’t carry an ounce of thrill when my heart slushed in blended chunks like my drink. I had gone cold, stone-faced, utterly lifeless at the way things ended with Javi.

He’s in love with you, you know.

I knew.

And the only thing I could do was squash that thought right out of my brain along with the maple leaves beneath my feet. Ryder had led me out onto the street, and we trudged past the weekly farmer’s market, one of my and Javi’s regular haunts. A place we’d taste test every cheese, sausage, hummus, and pitted fruit we were allowed before the commotion of the midmorning rush—aromas and flavors I loved to get lost in. But right now I couldn’t stand them—I could hardly stand myself.

Which is why, before I went any further, there was one more thing left to do.

I rounded the alley’s blunt corner, gripping its surface, the stone rough and firm against my fingertips. A solid buffer to catch me for when my knees undoubtedly buckled and I could no longer maintain my balance, let alone my composure. Once the cigarette fumes tickled my nose and my throat, I’d be too close to second-guess my decision.

The goodness of my heart hadn’t led me to Kona Koffee—it was more like the glare from the glass door swinging open, the light hitting me square in the eyes. All but blinding me, it had caught my attention, and I knew right then and there, it had to be the final stop on my apology tour. As I’d peered through the windows, I didn’t spot the soon-to-be recipient of said apology behind the counter. Which meant bathroom or smoke break out back.

I’d watched to see who came out of the restroom, Ryder at my side. “You can go. I’ll see you tomorrow,” I’d told him, once confirming their identity—not the person I needed. I’d stepped around my narrow-eyed companion, who’d moved to cross his arms and gripped the skin so tightly I could see the red mark of the indent. Yes, Ryder, I had the audacity to dismiss you, and I’d been feeling way too bitter to sugarcoat it. That stung him a bit, but I’d needed to do this next part myself. He’d get over it.

Disappearing behind my place of work, a twinge of fear curled my spine as bits of gravel and glass crunched beneath my feet. I hadn’t forgotten that the last time I walked this dumpster-lined corridor I almost didn’t make it out. Then Ryder found me. Shaking my head, shaking him away, I remembered what also found me that night. I shuddered, but the pit on my left fluttered with the yellow vests of construction, not a pair of glowing red eyes within unending darkness.

Chalky dust and metallic sparks billowed from the jobsite and mixed with the alley’s air, blending with the smoke from the cig’s lit end, which its user dangled between their right pointer and middle fingers. Shanley took a drag and leaned against the brick, using her foot as a spring.

I took her in: The baggy jeans, the plaid flannel around her waist, the braless off-white tank behind the discolored apron. The plump rosy lips, the cool complexion, the fade beneath the tress of waxy dark blonde hair. Not the look of a stone-cold predator—but when her icy blue stare landed on me, I stopped cold, and all I saw was the monster within her.

“River?” she said. My breath lodged in my throat. “Hey.” I expected a snarl of words, but they came out…subdued. The cig dropped to the pavement. She crushed the butt, not my bones, not under her claws, but her Converse.

An exhale slipped past my lips and that instinctual part of me that had me reacting like prey clicked off. Shanley wasn’t the beast I needed to run from.

If anything, I was.

“Hey.” I copied her stance against the wall. Not for cool factor, for sheer support. If the vision of a massive werewolf didn’t bring me down, then my nerves most certainly would. My voice cracked with the blaring cement cutter as I went to say, “I’m sorry,” but she beat me to it.

“What?” I spun on my heels to face her. “What are you sorry for?! I’m the one who caused this whole mess. If it weren’t for me, Chet wouldn’t have gone all bloodthirsty. I shouldn’t have provoked him when we got to the party.”

Shanley scoffed at the name. “Chet was going to do what he did regardless, because people like Chet have zero respect for others. I should have nipped the situation sooner”—no pun intended—“but I admit I’m a little rusty. We haven’t had a situation like that in a long time, and even then…I wasn’t even born, so I’m not totally sure how they dealt with it.”

Right. Vampire takeover, eighties. No Hunt Order. Something I’d actually been briefed on. Although Ryder didn’t reveal much outside of that phrase.

Shanley dropped her chin, her top locks a curtain across her brows. “It looks like I need to start screening the guest list again. Those bonfires have gotten pretty unruly anyways. Too many people, too many volatile young bucks. Way too much liability. I’m sorry,” she repeated, stepping towards me. “You shouldn’t have seen that.”

I knew the lilt behind her plea meant more than just witnessing the hunger, the violence, the chaos of Chet’s turning. Because that same lycanthropic spell had been mirrored in her—in her feral blue stare, in her raised ashy hackles, in her curled bloody flews, in her claws and fangs and growls—and she was my friend, not my enemy.

To try and ease any lingering tension, I said, “Eh, I’ve seen worse.”

Shanley grinned, her eyes crinkling. “So, it seems you are one of us.”

An assumption that’d already been made, I realized, when I’d seen through the façade of panic and locked eyes with that monster within. Or this convo would be going in a very different direction.

She leaned back against the brick, eyeing me with a suspicious smirk. “Didn’t take you as this brand of misfit. What are you, exactly?”

My brain stumbled on the question. “Still trying to figure that one out.”

“Well, welcome to the club. Hope the bonfire wasn’t your initiation.”

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