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See? She scoffed. Don’t let your imagination get carried away!
Though he looked like he was waiting for something… Or someone.
She checked her watch. Maybe if she came back again tomorrow, she might just see him again… Might. A hopeful smile lit up her face, and she continued up the arcade to the glowing lights of Kensington High Street. The moon rose above the rooftops, illuminating them with her cool glow, bathing the streets and Erica in her light.
Turning left onto Wright’s Lane, Erica passed a bustling café and continued down the street towards her home. It was then she felt it. That distinct feeling that someone was watching her. A chill ran down her spine.
Her head jerked toward the shadows across the street.
Am I imagining it, or are they moving?
Frozen to the spot, she gazed intently at their black depths but they were just shadows. Nothing more, nothing less.
It must’ve been my imagination. As if there could be anything hiding in the shadows!
Chapter Nine
Michael
Rolling his shoulders, Michael sighed. It was almost eleven o’clock and The Guild hadn’t yet contacted with the date for the District Council meeting. Not that it was unusual. They weren’t the most punctual with such things. But there was still time. The meeting wasn’t due for the next week. Shaking the chill off his shoulders he turned to leave.
“Come on, Ashayla. Let’s go home,” he murmured.
“Thank goodness for that. I thought I would die from boredom. I was contemplating gouging my eyes out just for something to do,” said Ashayla’s voice in his ear.
He’d been standing in the circular arcade of High Street Kensington Underground Station since early evening. Besides the cold, he rather enjoyed watching the passersby. As KeyMaster, he had the responsibility of documenting and safeguarding Time and all those living within it. In addition, The Guild prohibited him from having contact with anyone from Actualle, the present. Just in case their interaction had irreversible effects on SpaceTime. Hence the Ignorant Charm. It kept him hidden and safe and kept Actualles away. However, he could have sworn that the girl with the green eyes had seen him. A tingle ran down his spine at the memory of their gazes colliding.
“Are you going to see Annabelle tonight?” Ashayla asked in more nonchalant tones than the presence in his mind suggested.
“Later. I must attend to my Loggias first. There is much to finish.”
Turning off Kensington High Street onto Wright’s Lane, he walked with long strides toward Cheniston Gardens and his home. Autumn was giving way to winter and he was looking forward to a cup of tea to warm himself up after standing in the cold for so long.
It was as he crossed the road that the shadows in front of him warped and wobbled. Freezing once he was safely on the pavement, he peered into their dark depths.
“Could it be Nathaniel? Amberson did say they would be on patrol together tonight,” he mused.
There was a pause as Ashayla contemplated the shadows’ depths. “No, I don—”
Darkness descended, blanketing them in its thick blackness. It was all-encompassing—blocking out the moon and its stars and even the light of the streetlights.
Ombre Totalus.
“Wrathful!” he hissed, leaping back and summoning his sword.
“But that’s impossible! I have received no warning!” Ashayla snapped.
“There is no other Lost Soul capable of such magic,” Michael argued, scanning the shadows as Ashayla flew from its periapt to land beside him, growing to its full height. Baring its teeth, it hissed at the blackness. Its fisted hands flickered with white hot plasma.
Taking up position behind him, they stood back-to-back and waited. A skittering sound, like that of dried bones rattling along the roadside, came from their left. Whirling round, that was when they saw it. An oozing mass of shadows that writhed towards them from the opposite side of the road. Springing to the side, Michael swiped with his sword as Ashayla shrank back into its elfin form, leaping to attack. The Wrathful gathered the blackness within it, consuming it until it towered above Michael. As it lunged forward, red eyes blazing with malice and baring teeth as sharp as needles, Ashayla struck, sending a folly of lightning strikes to hit it square in its chest. The Wrathful shrieked in pain, its shrill screams echoing up the street.
Michael slashed at it with his sword, distracting it whilst Ashayla clambered upon its back.
It was panicking now. Wriggling away from Ashayla, it twisted this way and that, trying to buck the tiny Færie from its back. Dislodged, the Færie lost its grip and fell.
“Ashayla!” Michael cried, leaping forward to help.
Flinging out a fist, the Wrathful howled as Ashayla grabbed hold, slowing its fall. It summoned lightning to crackle and fill the creature from within. Falling to its knees, the Wrathful roared in defeat before exploding in a blinding flash.
