Feed your addiction for fiction
“What’s the matter?” asked Mercedes, Rocío’s mom. Her hair was dyed black, but her roots were flaxen blonde. She was already seated at the kitchen table by the time I trudged out of the bedroom. “You look tired. Didn’t you get any sleep?”
I shrugged as I entered the kitchen. “I’ve just been having weird dreams.”
“She tosses and turns and mumbles in her sleep every night, Ma,” Rocío revealed, throwing me under the bus. I threw her a scowl, which she ignored.
It was square, with no partitions or bracings. The window hovered ahead without the help of a wall, and a dim light spilled through the glass, a dusty bone-white glow that fell off the bottom of the window like a waterfall at the edge of the world. I had expected the light to stretch on for eternity, but the emptiness swallowed the rays. Captured them.
Snuffed them out.
The door opened.
Shadows crept in, scaling the walls and slithering across the ceiling.
He took a step in.
Who is that? My body asked.
My mental presence shook her head, panicked. I-I don’t–
He took another step in.
And another.
“She and I might have been born siblings in this life, but as far as ‘first life’ relations go, that isn’t the case. She’s nothing to me,” the demon declared, stepping back toward their original meeting place. Monty ambled along with Leah between them. “You’re her guardian now, so don’t fuck things up. Give her everything she needs and don’t fight it when she eventually leaves.”
Monty froze, his eyes lowered. Clint’s words not only stung, but reminded him of something Kris had told them just hours earlier:
“Bandits don’t do well in confined spaces–they’re used to traveling by any means necessary.”
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The young man who stood before him could not have been more than a year or two his senior. The sides of his head were shaved short, the remainder of his thick, sable twists fashioned into a hairstyle that seemed a cross between a mohawk and an afro. His skin and clothes were immaculate, as if he had never lived a day outside of a colony.
The ethereal orb floating within the confines of his chest puzzled Monty further. He confirmed that the stranger was nineteen years old, that he was a warrior, and the leathery wings that hung from his core marked him a demon. What the royal advisor could not see, however, was the brand of the tribe or coven from which the demon hailed.
Was I wrong? he wondered. Could he be someone else? There’s no way that’s Lizzie’s brother… Right?
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“You really believe that?” Gavin whispered from her left. She hadn’t realized he was standing so close to her.
“Yes,” she breathed softly. “Mona also said that Desideria Alagona gave Frankie her blessing to move forward with the relationship.”
Kaine and Tawni swapped appalled looks. “The old prophet? Seriously?” Tawni groaned. “I heard that she only ever does that when the two are soul mates. Frankie really is meant to be with Carmen…”
Speaking so low that only Lizzie could hear him, Gavin said, “I meant, ‘do you really believe in soul mates?’ ”
Taken aback, Lizzie turned her head to inquire about the younger teen’s question–only to be caught in his eyes. Warmth flashed across her face. “I…”
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Whistle while you work
He knew the boundaries of their colony. He had seen the map of their borders and outposts plenty enough to know the truth. Their claimed territory was beyond that of the original city of Savannah; their reach went as far south as Fort McAllister and as north as the wildlife refuge that shared their namesake, but technically sat on the other side of the Georgia-South Carolina border. Everything between those two points and the ocean was under their protection, and they had outposts at Lanier, Richmond Hill, and Limehouse. All the land south of them was deemed “no man’s land,” overrun by scavengers and too dangerous to travel. Florida–alas, what was not underwater–was completely abandoned.
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“Nah, I didn’t actually get any heat over it,” she winked, gesturing for her passengers to buckle up. Kaine, who had called shotgun on their way to the lot, occupied the seat next to Marilyn; Gavin had lowered one of the middle-row seats into a floor compartment, allowing him and Tawni access to the third row. “If anything, I gave her shit over not giving me a head’s up. The only reason I give these losers the time of day is because Gavin drives you home every night.”
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No matter how your heart is grieving
Sisters of the Shadows 