Page 27 of Dancing With Demons

“I’m sorry,” I said instead.

He cocked his head to the other side, his little nose twitching. “Sorry? Wow, you really are human,” he remarked. “But you don’t have to be. After I was cast out to die—”

I choked.

“—my mothers found and rescued me. They raised me as their own among the dryads”—he sighed—“which is another reason why Raven says I have to stick with you now.”

“Excuse me? Stick with me?” I looked around like there was a clue to what he was saying in the dusty tomes. “What does that mean?”

“The Sins are running the school now.” He dropped that casually as though it was just a new fact of the afterlife. “Raven, Sauda, Ursula, and the rest of them. And they said we’re doing things like they did in Abaddon Women’s Academy. The strong with the strong. The weak with the weak. And the freaks”—he pointed at us and then him—“with the freaks.

“I’m a disabled demon who was raised by one of the Others and can’t wield dark magic. You’re a human,” he explained—stating the lone fact that was apparently enough to make me a freak. “And she hangs with you,” he said about Dora. “So it’s the three of us now.” He tipped his head. “At least until someone else gets on the Sins’ bad side and they banish them to our group too— Oh!” He held out his hand. “Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Nik Vangelis.”

Stepping forward, I took his hand and shook. I didn’t trust him per se, but I also didn’t think he was lying. Unfortunately, I had no problem believing the demon gang princesses would cast out one of their own for being disabled and raised by dryads.

“I’m Charlotte,” I said. “This is my sister, Dora. Nice to meet you.”

He nodded to us both, but said no more.

An awkward silence descended over us.

“So,” I blurted. I’d never met an awkward silence that I didn’t need to break. “Would you happen to know anything about shades, by any chance?”

Nik’s round eyes brightened. “Oh, yes, I do! They’re fascinating as it happens. Shades were created by witches—although it’s not known if they created them on purpose. A shade is born from a curse upon the dead.” He laughed, letting out a honking snort. “I know what you’re thinking, why curse someone who’s dead? I don’t know, but that witch must’ve really hated the guy, and wasn’t going to let a little thing such as leaving the mortal plane get in the way of her revenge.”

I tried for a smile. “Indeed.”

“So, basically,” Nik went on, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a notepad. “Shades are the shadows of the undead. They don’t have a physical form, so they can’t be physically harmed, but if you step into their clutches—they slowly drain the life out of you until you become nothing but a husk with no soul,” he rattled off the notepad.

“Of course that’s what they do,” I muttered. “Because it’s too much to ask for a creature who pats you on the head and gives you a cookie before you go.”

Nik laughed. “Shades like cold and darkness, so light and heat...” Nik pointed at the torch above our heads. “...are the best defense against them.”

“Makes sense.” I looked around, counting the torches in our vicinity, and wishing there were more. “Erlik said the winner or winners have to defeat the shade and present him with the kill, or else we’ll be running two hundred laps around the manor,” I said. “I have zero interest in killing a creature that was abducted and dragged here against their will, but I’m not letting Dora run those laps to amuse that sadist either.”

I straightened, nodding to myself. “We need a way to safely and painlessly capture the shade, show them to Erlik, endure his spittle-laced bellowing, and then free the shade outside the gates.”

“Wow,” Nik breathed, quickly flipping through his notebook. My brows furrowed as he scribbled something down. “You really are a mortal.”

“Uh, yes, I—”

Dora wandered off, whistling to herself, and leaving me to chase after her.

I gently guided her back to the huddle. “Let’s think, guys. How do we find a shadow in a library of shadows, and then how do we capture it when we do?”

Nik hummed, fluttering his delicate-looking eyelids as he thought.

Unlike the other demons who made a fashion out of tight, revealing, and scorched clothing, Nik was dressed in simple, loose garments that looked as if they were woven from swinging vines and fresh, rain-scented moss. His vest, tunic, and pants had a mess of pockets, and he was pulling notepads from every one of them.

“Uhh, okay, the good news is that we won’t have to find the shade, because it’ll no doubt come straight to us so—”

“Wait, what?” I broke in. “Why will it come straight to us?”

“Because of you,” Nik replied as light and breezy as the wind. “I told you they like to drain a person of their soul and well...” He looked around. “You’re the only one around here with one of those.”

“At all hours of the day or night something or someone will be watching you, will be stalking you, and will be lying in wait for its chance to strike.”

I shivered. “I know it’s been said before, but hell is the worst.”