The Shattered Dark

Page 5

I tuck a strand of hair that escaped from my ponytail behind my ear as I stare out my broken window. We’re passing the turnoff for my college. My former college now that I’ve been kicked out. God, I still want that degree. I want a normal job and a life where I don’t have to worry about someone killing me or the people I care about.
I pinch the skin between my eyes, trying to release some of the pressure building behind them. Is there any possible way I could be wrong about Paige? Few people from the king’s Court knew my name or where I lived on Earth. The remnants shouldn’t know a thing about Paige. Maybe she left her purse at my place, and the fae thought it was mine?
“Don’t get on the highway,” I say suddenly, grabbing the steering wheel to keep Shane from veering toward the on-ramp.
“Hey!” He swipes my hand away but stays on the access road. “We’re meeting Aren at the gate north of the city.”
“We’re going to my friend’s house first. It’ll only take a minute.” I have to be certain Paige is really gone.
I’m kind of surprised when he doesn’t argue. We might be on the outskirts of Houston, but traffic is horrendous. It’s impossible to get through a single intersection in one minute. He follows my directions, though, and half an hour later we pull up in front of a town house that’s in the middle of a row of attached homes that all have the same white shutters, small balconies, and miniscule front porches. The only thing different is the color of the front doors. Paige’s is pink. I tell Shane to wait in the car as I climb out of the passenger seat.
It takes a few steps before my muscles loosen up. They’re sore from the fight at my apartment, and my right leg throbs under my jeans when I put weight on it. Nothing’s broken, though; I think I just have a deep bruise on my thigh.
A knot of dismay tightens in my stomach when I reach Paige’s pink door.
“Please be home,” I whisper as I knock. After a few minutes pass with no answer, I step into the flower bed to the right of the porch and peek in through the window. Only a sliver of the living room is visible through a part in the curtains, but the little that I see doesn’t look good. Broken glass and something blue are scattered across the floor. It takes me a second to realize the latter are hundreds of tiny blue pebbles, the remains of Paige’s fishbowl, I think. She has a betta named Phil or Max or Johnny or something. She has trouble keeping them alive, so I can never keep track.
“Is your friend not home?” Shane asks from the porch, not from the car where I told him to wait.
“The remnants took her,” I say.
Shane frowns. “Come again?”
I step out of the flower bed, feeling sick. Since the fae don’t belong in this world, they’re able to turn their visibility on and off with a thought. Only humans who have the Sight are able to see them all the time; the rest of the world has no idea they exist. Paige won’t have any idea. I don’t know how she’d react if she was grabbed by invisible fae. She might think she’s caught in a nightmare or that she’s lost her mind or that she’s possessed or something. But maybe the remnants will let her see them. Maybe they’ll explain who they are and what’s happening.
Or maybe they’ll just kill her.
No, I tell myself, pushing that thought aside. She’s more valuable alive. Alive, they can negotiate a trade.
“Her purse was at my apartment,” I tell Shane, trying the doorknob. It doesn’t turn, of course. “I broke a ward when I picked it up. That’s why the remnants came.”
“Hmm,” he says. He presses his lips together, but there’s no worry or sympathy in his expression. I clench my teeth to keep from saying anything. When I first met him, I had the impression he was a bit egocentric. He’s living up to that assessment.
Stepping away from the door, I scan up and down the street. An occasional car passes by, but no one is outside. I can probably time a break-in so that I don’t get caught.
I pick up one of the rocks lining the flower bed.
“You know,” Shane says, “if the remnants do have your friend, it’s highly possible they know where she lives.”
“You’re worried about them showing up?” I heft the rock in my hand. “Why? You can just switch allegiances. I’m sure they’d pay you whatever you ask.”
“Ouch,” he says, sounding genuinely insulted.
I hurt his feelings? Whatever. He’s only involved in this war because he gets paid. This shouldn’t be about money. Our actions have consequences. I didn’t realize just how dire those consequences were until a month ago. Back when I worked for the king, I thought the Court captured most of the fae I tracked. They didn’t. It was easier to kill them than to put forth the effort to take them as prisoners. If I’d known how much blood was being shed because of my shadow-reading, I wouldn’t have become so deeply involved in the king’s wars. I’ve caused more pain than I can stand thinking about.
Before my thoughts darken further, I search the street again. It’s a weekday. Most people will probably be at work, but I make sure I check the windows of the nearest homes. It’s hard to see through the sun’s glare on the glass.
“Here.” Shane grabs the rock from my hand. “You keep standing around, and eventually someone’s going to notice.”
He launches the rock through Paige’s window.
“And, yes,” he continues. “I took a while to make up my mind, but that doesn’t mean I don’t give a shit.” He grabs the curtain from inside the town house, yanks it off its hanger, then uses it to knock out the rest of the glass and clear off the windowsill. “I’ll open the door.”
He climbs inside, and, of course, I feel guilty now. It wasn’t easy for me to change allegiances; why should it be easy for him? Still, I don’t apologize when he opens the door. If he really does give a shit, he should act like it more often.
As soon as I enter Paige’s apartment, it’s obvious there was a struggle here. In addition to the shattered fishbowl, the narrow table behind Paige’s couch is on its side, and it looks like someone tried to throw a floor lamp across the room. It’s still plugged in, but the lampshade is crushed. I step over it and head to her bedroom. She fought there, too, launching her jewelry box at her attacker. Its contents are scattered through the doorway and into the hall, where shards of glass litter the floor. Paige put up one hell of a fight.
She shouldn’t have had to put up a fight. She wouldn’t have had to if she wasn’t connected to me.
“Are you sure the remnants took her?” Shane calls from the front of the town house. I turn away from the bedroom and head back his way.
“I wish I wasn’t, but yeah. Why?”
He’s standing at the kitchen counter staring into a large, yellow mixing bowl. “There’s a fish in this.”
I frown, walk to his side, then peer down at a bright blue and very much alive betta.
“If the remnants kidnapped her,” Shane says, “it seems odd that they’d stick around to take care of her fish.”
“Maybe one of them really likes fish?” I say, even though he has a point. It doesn’t make sense at all.
I scan the living room and kitchen. Looking for what, I don’t know—evidence, I guess—but there’s nothing here except the overturned furniture and shattered fishbowl. Maybe I should have searched Paige’s purse before dropping it on the floor of my apartment. The remnants could have left a ransom note in it.