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I gather books on shadow projection, the shadow world, dark magic, and anything that looks vaguely related, then add a few more to the stack for research on locked memories and spells to retrieve them for good measure. If what Magnolia said is true…I just want to make sure I don’t mess it up when the time comes for me to look through Reid’s head.
I set up camp in the leather chairs in the corner by the windows, pulling up the shadow realm material first. As much as I want to write off V as a figment of my imagination, I know deep down she’s not. If my mind hasn’t broken enough to start hallucinating from everything that’s happened in the last year, there’s no waythisis what would push me over the edge.
Somehow, my shadow self managed to cross the threshold with me, so I need to know exactly what I’m dealing with.
And how the hell to send her back.
She’s out of her mind if she thinks I’m going to agree to some kind of alliance with her, as if the last few deals I’ve made didn’t nearly kill me. I don’t need her help.
I don’t.
Because if they can manage to switch places with you—them on our side, and you in the shadows—they would no longer be at the mercy of the effects of your choices. You would be at the mercy of theirs.
Is that what she’s after? Trying to trick me into switching places with her?
Of the thousand pages in each of the dozen books I found, there’s collectively twenty pages on the shadow realm. I take pictures with my phone in case I need to reference them later, though from a quick skim, they seem surface level. I should ask the others more about what they’ve covered in class.
Magnolia’s books have a few helpful sections. Both versions of a person cannot exist on the same plane simultaneously, not fully. But there are in between stages, pockets of space where souls can linger…or get trapped. Which means V might be closer to our side than she ever was before, but she’s not fullyhere.
Her essence is on this side, but she has no physical form of her own—myphysical form. So as long as I’m on this side, she can’t be.
But how much power she has in this in-between space, that much the books don’t cover. If she can use magic, it wouldn’t take a physical form to cause some serious damage.
“I was hoping we’d run into each other.” Anya gives me a wide smile as she slides into the seat across from me.
Just what I need today.I scan the rest of the room, looking for an out, a rescue, but we’re alone.
“I think we’re, well,I’moverdue for an apology.”
I wait for the punchline, but instead of the haughty look over her nose she’d given me in the meeting, she’s slouched low in her chair, her manicured fingers fidgeting with one another.
“The meeting the other day.” She flicks her wrist, still not quite looking at me. “It was bitchy. Sorry.”
…sorry?
I’ve always thought I was good at reading people, but with Anya, I have no idea what she’s thinking, what angle she’s playing. First she saves my life on that tarmac, then in the meeting she demands I stand in the back of the room one moment and defends me the next, and nowthis?
When I don’t respond, she adds, “Given the circumstances, you and I are bound to be around each other a lot. You probably think I’m a cunt and want nothing to do with me, and it’s probably ridiculous to think that maybe we could be friends. But that was more about Reginald in there than it was about you. Still, I’m sorry.”
I stare at her, dumbfounded.
“I’m not used to—well.” She shifts in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest, then uncrossing them again and sitting up straight. “I’m not used to…not being wanted. And you probably think my head is full of air, but I know when a man wants me. And my fiancé clearly doesn’t. I don’t think I’ve ever met a man less interested in me. I’m supposed to spend the rest of my life with this man, and he barely looks at me, and he’s always so serious. He only wants to talk business. So I think I got kind of…jealous, maybe? Because you two seem close, and he actually has a personality with you. I have to ask. Is he gay? He doesn’t seem the type, but I guess that’s stereotyping, right? I don’t want to make assumptions.”
I stifle a cough, not sure if I’m more relieved or surprised by the accusation.
“I can keep a secret, if that’s the case.” She flicks her wrist.
I shake my head, unable to find words.
Her shoulders deflate, and she frowns like she’s disappointed by the answer. “You’re his partner. You must know him better than anyone. Am I not his type or something?” She scoffs the question like it’s simply unthinkable.
To be fair, she’s beautiful. Hell, if I liked girls, I’d probably be into her. She’s all full lips and shiny hair and soft lines. I’m sure boys have been falling at her feet all her life. What I’d thought was cold calculation in her eyes is…insecurity.
She didn’t ask for this engagement any more than Reid did. She was shipped off to a place she’s never been full of people she doesn’t know to marry a man she’s basically never met like a piece of property her father could bargain with. Then she shows up here and her fiancé wants nothing to do with her. And she’s eighteen, for fuck’s sake. She’s holding it together a lot better than I would have. In a very weird, roundabout way, she reminds me of Adrienne.
How did I find myself wanting to comfort the woman engaged to my boyfriend? And what the hell am I supposed to say to her now?
“I think Reid is really stressed with everything that’s been going on,” I say slowly. “And you showing up here surprised him.”
