Page 17 of Those That Don't Exist
“She’s spotted me a couple times. She can feel the pact instincts, I think. She nearly caught me today, I’m sure she was tracking my scent.”
“Why didn’t you let her catch you. Maybe an interaction with our kind is what will finally trigger her fully,” Adicious snarls. We’re in his office, he’s leaning against the front of the big oak monstrosity that is his desk. I’m seated in one of the ratty leather chairs in front of him, trying to hold my gaze down.
“I wanted her to follow me somewhere quieter, we were in the middle of the city shopping district. Her friends caught up and got -”
“Then try again and don’t fuck it up,” he snaps over me. “My patience is wearing thin, Ty. I could swap you and Ronan, let him take care of this.”
“No!” I answer a little too quickly, my eyes lifting to meet his. My shadows swirl beneath me, barely contained. I spot them thickening under the desk too in my peripheral vision.
Adicious’s eyebrows draw together as he flashes me his fangs in warning. I’m pushing the line too far. It’s enough to have me drop my gaze again, wanting to avoid another beating. Unfortunately, I let my mouth run on.
“What I mean is, I’m on campus anyway, where she mostly stays. How would you explain Ronan’s presence there? Someone would notice if he’s not a student or staff sooner or later.”
“Don’t tell me how to run my pack,” Adicious roars, backhanding me across the cheek. I shrink away from the blow, and refuse to lift my hand to my face to soothe the skin.
“Sorry,” I bite out, then zip my lips.
Adicious paces in front of me for a few minutes.
“Ronan wouldn’t do a thorough job. You, as much as you need to remember your place, are better suited to this job for now,” he says. I slowly exhale a breath in relief.
“Now,” Adicious goes on, taking the seat behind his desk. “How is the other research going?”
“Good,” I respond, relaxing a tiny bit more. This is easier ground.
I dive into a full account of the other death certificates I found this week, the ones I suspect are fraudulent.
When I finally walk out of my leader’s office, an hour later, my brain is descending into a thick fog of exhaustion.
My stomach growls and my throat burns as I pass the common room, I can’t socialise any more right now. I retreat upstairs to my room instead, ignoring the thirst. As soon as I get the door closed I flop onto my back on my bed with a groan.
Putting an arm behind my head, I stare out at the functional small room. The white paint on the walls is faded and covered in general marks of wear and tear. The wooden wardrobe I share with my roommate stands with both doors open, clothes spewing out.
Clearly Mitch had overslept again and had blown through the room like a hurricane to get ready. His bed, across from mine on the other side of the space, has also been left unmade and has even more clothes dumped on it. He swapped between bar work and helping at the docks. I assume by his lack of presence, and that I hadn’t heard his voice coming from the common room either, that he must’ve picked up a shift at one of the bars in the city tonight.
I hadn’t turned on a light, even though the sun had set and the night was creeping in. I preferred to let my shadows out to play in the dusky light. Some sweep from the dark corners towards me, others play across the space. Seeing them dance always calms me when I’m stressed. I watch them for a few minutes allowing my brain to relax.
Forcing the buzzing thoughts to leave my brain one refuses to quieten down.
What was it about this female? She was becoming more and more intriguing. I’d come to know her from my brief daily acts of stalking. She was certainly strong, I knew that from her comeback from the car wreck, but watching the way she was working to catch up on her studies had me admiring her work ethic. She was starting to relax too, she had been so tense when she first returned to the campus, now her smiles and her laughter were becoming more frequent.
Maybe I was just feeling protective, she could be newly turned afterall, and newbies always needed a bit of guidance. The way I’d been raised meant caring was in my blood.
I’d helped Mitch quite a bit after Adicious turned him into one of us a few years back. I was still not going out much after detoxing and he took a while to adjust. We’d become close enough to become roommates, although I would hardly say we were close. At least, I hadn’t told him much about my past or my family.
I let my memories of this morning in the book store surface. She’d locked onto me, I’d felt it, a palpable air of predatory focus. It was a game of cat and mouse, even if she didn’t really realise it, and didn’t realise the mouse was actually a seasoned hunter himself.
I’d been so amused, watching her frustration grow, her face set in a determined scowl, as she repeatedly tried to catch me. I’d not felt so alive in a long time. My heart had raced and my breath had caught each time I heard her step in my direction, not giving up. Part of me wanted her to catch me, the other part had been so into the moment of fun I hadn’t wanted it to stop.
Outside the store I’d been able to pull on my shadows as I’d hid down that alleyway. I’d begged the gods to get her to follow and give me the ability to cloak her too. I’d planned to finally let her snare me.
Her friends had dashed those plans, and if I was right, she was just as disappointed about that as I was. It bled into her voice as she walked away, chatting to them.
The image flashes across my mind before I can stop it, of her, a walking spitfire, marching into the alley. I’d be lounging against the wall on one side, foot resting against it with my knee bent and my arms casually folded across my chest.
She’d demand answers, calling me on my shit in a tirade and end it by surprising me with a question.
“Are you stalking me?”
