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Pia looked her way, a lingering smile tipping her lips up. “We’ve been helping you for the past two weeks, Shay. Let us have some fun.”
“Come on, let’s go,” she insisted. “We only have nine posters left—”
Laughter exploded as the Selkies kept spraying paint, not hearing a word Shay said.
With a roll of her eyes, she turned and left the alley, thick mud sticking to her running shoes and the hem of her pants.
It shouldn’t surprise her that the others weren’t even trying. Anna was Second to Athene Cousens, and if she didn’t come back, her title would be up for grabs. In the world of Darkslaying, friends only stayed friends until one of them decided it didn’t suit them anymore.
The rain fell harder, bringing a dull pulse to Shay’s brow. Her medication rattled in her backpack, telling her it was almost time to toss back a pill before that ache became unbearable.
“Shay!” Pia called, but Shay didn’t slow. “Shay, wait up!”
Shay pushed through foot traffic and stomped onto the crosswalk—
Tires screeched as a driver slammed on the brakes. Shay stumbled back, heart shooting up her throat as a white sports car with a streamlined body nearly flattened her like a pancake. The vehicle lurched to a stop, the engine’s roar swiftly dulling to a quiet purr.
“Watch where you’re going, asshole!” She kicked the front bumper, leaving a muddy footprint on the chrome.
Wipers swept across the tinted windshield, the spells on the car too thick to see the dumbass of a driver.
She flipped him off. “Learn how to drive,” Shay muttered. She gave his bumper another kick for good measure before continuing across the road.
The car kept sitting there, even after she was well out of the way. Not quite off the road, but far enough for that particular lane to start moving again.
She heard the hum of a window being lowered, and felt compelled to look over her shoulder, steeling herself for an argument she hoped would be worth her time.
But the fight simmering inside her instantly cooled at the sight of him. She was not expecting to see him again so soon, if at all, and because of this she found herself taking in his features in a state of disbelief.
Tousled dark hair. Bold brows. A sharp jaw dusted with the barest hint of a five o’clock shadow. The arm he slowly slung over the unrolled window was covered in a patchwork of tattoos that appeared to have no rhyme or reason. Silver rings glinted on three of his fingers, partially concealing the wispy tattoos on the back of his hand—tattoos that were meant to look like shadows.
This morning just took a nosedive down the toilet—because she had just kicked Roman freaking Devlin’s bumper.
She hurried away, wondering what the odds were that he didn’t recognize her. Probably not good, she decided, a chill licking up her spine. Now that she was off the crosswalk, traffic began to move again, and it was easy to pick out the deep growl of Roman’s engine among the many ordinary ones. She listened to it fade with distance, heart thumping in her ears.
Pia caught up to her, nearly startling her out of her skin. Shay wasn’t easily frightened, but Anna’s absence was weighing on her. And her altercation—make that two altercations—with the guy better known as ‘Shadows’ was only pushing her closer to the edge.
“Shay!” Pia grabbed her arm.
“What?” She whirled around, strands of damp, strawberry-blonde hair plastering her face. It was cold today, her breath hanging in the air before her, but the chill that lingered on her skin had more to do with that Shadowmaster than it did the weather.
Pia’s brow creased with worry. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said, working to soften her tone. “Why?”
“Why?” she repeated in disbelief. “Why? You almost got run over!” She gestured wildly to the road at her back.
“Yeah, well, the guy was an asshole.”
“That asshole was Roman Devlin, and you kicked his bumper.”
She continued her trek, leaving Pia behind. “Thanks for reminding me,” she mumbled.
Pia followed. “You’re lucky you’re alive and not roadkill—or worse. Trust me, I’ve heard rumors of what that guy’s done to people.” So had Shay. There wasn’t a single person in this state who hadn’t heard of Roman and his violent tendencies. “Shay? Did you hear what I—”
“Yeah, I heard you, Pia. That was Roman Devlin and I’m lucky I’m not roadkill. At least one of us listens to the other.”
Pia’s hurt was tangible. “Don’t pull that crap with me, Shayla. I miss Anna just as much as you do.”
