16. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

T he reality of what I'd done only really set in once my feet hit the ground in Harlow Miles's closet.

It smelled like popcorn.

Buttery, microwaveable popcorn.

In a matter of minutes and just a few steps, we'd gone from one realm to a very different one, and my skin itched a little with the panicky need to go back. The faint whirring of electrical equipment and the quiet thud, thud, thud of the heavy bass from whatever Harlow was listening to felt immediately more foreign to me than anything in my life in the shadow realm.

And then there was Verner. Ghostly, incorporeal Verner.

In this form, he was basically a giant floating cloak with hands.

"Go back," I whispered, reaching out to touch the edges of his form. I'd never touched a Shade in this form, and I was surprised to find that I could feel something , though it was as light as a feather beneath my fingertips.

Without giving myself another second to chicken out, I knocked on the closet door to announce my presence before turning the handle, finding it unlocked.

I'd only briefly met Harlow Miles in the shadow realm, and I'd never been to her apartment—Harlow had originally come to the shadow realm with the first group of us, but hadn't been able to handle the medieval way of life. She was some kind of tech expert, and Astrid had been working alongside her to wage a subtle kind of war against the Hunters from afar. Though that had probably gone on hold, now that negotiations were open again.

"Oh," Harlow said, blinking owlishly as I stepped out of the dark closet and directly into her computer room. Despite my instructions, Verner floated into the room behind me, keeping away from the small pool of light around Harlow's desk that was generated by neon light strips. "I wasn't expecting guests."

"I'm sorry for dropping in without any warning." I glanced around. "It does seem very trusting of you to put your makeshift entry to the in-between directly next to your workspace."

She shrugged. "It was here or my bedroom. Anyway, come in, take a seat." She pulled out a rolling stool from beneath her desk, lounging back in an enormous office chair that dwarfed her slight frame. "Meera, right? We met in the shadow realm. I remember you—you were the quiet one. How can I help?"

The quiet one .

The quiet one who didn't rock the boat and didn't do confrontation. The dull one. The sad one.

Not anymore.

"Are you willing to lie to Astrid about seeing me here?" I asked, tipping my chin up to meet Harlow's gaze.

She snorted. "Fuck no. Astrid is the scariest person I've ever met."

That was probably fair, though she could be bribed with jerky and pickles. Or frightened away by the merest hint of an emotional conversation.

"Okay, then I don't need help. Just directions out of your building."

Her eyebrow rose up to her short black hair, which was dyed green at the ends. "I don't know how to tell you this, but you have a Shade hovering right next to you who is going to implode if you go outside right now—it's the middle of the day."

"Yes, well, he's not staying."

Harlow looked over my shoulder, and I felt an odd, proprietary urge to stand in front of Verner, blocking him from her view. "Does he know that? He's sticking pretty close to you."

I turned, giving Verner what I hoped was an encouraging smile. It was so unsettling seeing him in this form, and not being able to communicate with him. Honestly, it hadn't really occurred to me—the others who'd been back to the human realm had all been able to communicate via their mating bond. Apparently, the bite worked as some kind of antenna, and I didn't have one.

Verner's form rippled, and I realized with a start that I was rubbing my neck and quickly dropped my hand.

"You need to head back now, remember? Just like we talked about," I said encouragingly, my face hot.

Verner was still for a moment before slowly—and deliberately—shaking his hooded head.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Don't be difficult. You said you would."

He shook his head again. Actually… had he said that? On reflection, I couldn't remember him agreeing to leave. Then again, it didn't really matter. I could just walk out into sunlight and he'd be forced to concede defeat and go home.

I didn't feel great about that option, but it was there.

"Look," Harlow began placatingly, holding her hands up. "I'm not going to lie to Astrid because I value my life, but I don't necessarily have to tell her everything either. Why don't you chill here until nighttime? We can hang in the kitchen. I'll make it dark enough for your friend. You can eat whatever human realm snacks you've been craving—don't bullshit me, you've got to be missing processed sugar, right? Ooh, or we could order in. Do you like wings?"

I blinked at her as my brain tried to catch up to how we'd landed on that question. "I'm a vegetarian."

"Oh." She pursed her lips. "Fries then?"

"I'm not hungry. And I really have to go—I haven't got long." The more time I spent here, the more difficult it was for the ex-Hunters in Elverston House to cover for me.

"Look, I'm not like a… make-good-calls-in-a-crisis kind of person. Like, that's not really an area of expertise for me. But I'm going to go out on a limb and say that you need to think whatever you're doing through, and wait until it's dark so your friend here doesn't get fried by the sun."

It was hard to tell in this form, but I could have sworn Verner nodded, the absolute traitor. He was meant to go home! I had a rampage to go on. My bag felt heavy, weighed down with the throwing knives Verner had sourced for me, as well as my thick notebook of memories.

I hadn't entirely ruled out using the knives, but I was a fight-back rather than a fight-first kind of person.

Besides, physical violence seemed so… temporary.

I wanted to destroy him. I wanted to destroy his legacy .

"Do you want a ramen bowl?" Harlow asked, heading into the room off her office. Immediately, the light that filtered through the door when she'd opened it shut off, and I could hear her closing all the blinds. "I have vegetarian ones."

Honestly, that did sound pretty amazing.

Verner continued to hover nearby as I followed her into the room and hopped onto a barstool at the kitchen bench. Harlow's apartment was tiny but sleek and modern—though with a lot of anime-inspired touches. I wondered if the Hunters Council funded it, since as far as I knew, she was still on their books. The reason Astrid worked so closely with her was because Harlow was a double agent.

"So," Harlow began. "I assume the plan involves eventually returning to the shadow realm if your friend here is willing to wait—does your friend have a name by the way?"

"I'm not sure I should tell you that," I replied hesitantly. "I don't want to implicate him."

Harlow glanced over at me from the bench where she was preparing two bowls of instant ramen. "Girl, what are you planning? Are you going to get arrested?"

"I'll be back in the shadow realm before that," I replied absently. Shoot, I didn't have a phone. How was I going to call Adela Cooke without a phone? I couldn't sneakily borrow Harlow's without her knowing—she probably had some super tech-savvy security stuff on there, she'd know instantly.

It seemed foolish in hindsight that I'd left mine behind when I'd moved to the shadow realm.

Harlow spluttered. "What do you mean?"

"I'm kidding," I said hastily. "I'm not going to do anything crazy."

"Really? Because it sounds like you're going to do premeditated crimes ," Harlow replied with an accusatory look.

"Don't you do premeditated crimes all the time?" I asked, genuinely curious. Whether it was for Astrid or for the Hunters, I doubted Harlow's job description was entirely above board.

"Well, yeah. But on the internet, so it doesn't count."

"That's a convenient loophole."

"It is. Have you thought of one for yourself yet? It's best to plan these things out in advance. Meditate on it. Pre meditate on it, if you will."

She handed me the bowl and some chopsticks, and I stirred the noodles around slowly, watching her. "I can't decide if you're encouraging me or not."

"I can't decide either," Harlow said serenely before starting on her own noodles. Maybe Harlow was just one of those who liked to watch the world burn. A Verity, so to speak.

I'd never been one of those, not in the past. While I'd definitely concocted a few revenge fantasies over the years, I'd never had the means nor the courage to even consider pulling one off. No, that wasn't quite right. Adela Cooke had offered me the means, and I'd walked away.

I'd never had the rage to pull it off. But knowing that Randal Jackman was still out there, living his best life, unaffected by what he'd done when he'd ruined mine?

I couldn't let that slide.

"I'm assuming this criminal activity of yours is directed against the Hunters, right?" Harlow asked, not sounding particularly bothered if it was. "You've picked a good time—they're kind of in an uproar right now with everything that went down with Cal Thibaut and Lochan. I think the higher-ups are starting to realize how much control they've lost over the community—people are fractured and doing their own thing. Austin's conspiracy theory-seeds have flowered nicely, and a lot of the middle-class band of Hunters have been distancing themselves from the group to avoid unwanted attention. For a while there, people were filming their neighbors' driveways and posting online about if they went out frequently at night and stuff. It was wild."

"All that from what Austin said?" I asked, surprised.

"Don't underestimate the allure of a conspiracy theory. Or the willingness many people have to attribute Why Life Sucks to something nebulous and nonspecific." She shrugged. "Sometimes that's easier than, like, dismantling oppressive power structures and systems designed to keep us in little boxes and whatever. You know?"

"I do know," I replied, though we were probably thinking about different things. I wasn't exactly sure what it was that Jackman had involved me in, but there was a very real chance that it involved other Councilors. There was a chance that I'd dismantle an oppressive power structure—or at least a small portion of one.

"Does that mean the Shades are in a good position right now, as far as negotiations go?" I asked, feeling a slight glimmer of unease. I didn't want to ruin all of Tallulah's hard work. Then again, Randal Jackman wouldn't honor a goddamn thing he promised anyway, so what did it matter?

"I guess so. I don't really understand that side of things. It's not lost on the Hunters, though, that the Shades are bargaining for access to a source of power that they'll literally die without—either Hunter desire or human fear. However weak the Hunters Council's position gets, they've always got that advantage."

Verner's shadowy form rippled next to me, a clear sign of his agitation. It was pretty bleak, hearing it laid bare like that.

"There are a lot more ex-Hunters in the shadow realm now," I pointed out, hoping to ease his discomfort.

Harlow hummed in agreement, though her eyes said plenty. None of the group that Cal Thibaut had sent over were in a position where they wanted to contribute to the energy stores—they never even left Elverston House. Perhaps he thought they'd be a burden and that the king would resent them. Or maybe that it would sow discord between him and Ophelia. Fortunately, no one seemed to have a problem with them being there, or at least they hadn't said as much within earshot of myself or any of the others.

"What else has changed since I was last there?" Harlow asked curiously as we finished up our meals and she cleaned up.

Hm, what had changed since the very beginning when we'd all first arrived in the shadow realm?

Everything. Everything had changed.

The very land itself had changed, filled with vibrant bursts of color that hadn't existed before we'd moved there. The attitudes toward us had changed—some growing more open to our presence there and seeing us more as a fixture of the realm than interlopers. For others, they'd been very keen to have us there, but in a way that felt pretty objectifying at first. That had changed for the most part too. Obviously, it wasn't perfect, but the more we'd found our own footing in the shadow realm, the more we seemed to be recognized as individuals with the ability to do more than just generate power.

"I'm not sure you'd recognize the place," I replied eventually. "The colorful flowers. The vegetable garden outside Elverston House. The new faces around the palace and beyond—Austin performs all over the realm." I watched Verner for a moment, absorbed in the floating, rippling movement of his shadows. "It's not perfect, but I think we're building something pretty great."

It bothered me that I'd never acknowledged that in the past. That I'd been so focused inward that I'd never taken the time to look around and realize how much things had changed, and how much we'd all been a part of that. How much I'd been part of that. In the human realm, I'd just floated through life barely touching the sides.

In the shadow realm, I was part of something. I'd made a difference—even if it was just growing vegetables, though I hoped I could eventually do more.

This would make a difference. Hopefully, one for the better.

"Harlow, I don't suppose you have a phone I could use?" I cleared my throat. "Ideally, one that, you know, can't be traced."

Harlow sighed dramatically, though her lips twitched like she was trying not to smile. "I don't mean this to be offensive, but you're a lot more interesting than I first gave you credit for."

"I'm confident you won't be the only one saying that after all this is said and done," I mumbled, face heating with embarrassment. Being boring and unmemorable had been a feature, not a bug. It had kept me out of trouble, and beneath anyone's notice.

It was a protective instinct, and it had served me well. But I'd outgrown it now. Now was the time for change.

Harlow hummed, watching me for a long moment. "Hold on, I'll get you a phone."

Harlow ended up lending me her van and some money as well, and once it was dark out, Verner and I loaded up—him in the back, which she usually used for transporting equipment, safely ensconced in the dark—while I drove.

The burner phone felt heavy in my pocket, but I hadn't used it yet. Before I called Adela, I wanted to make sure that I'd collected as much evidence as possible, which meant I had a pit stop to make first. If I was going to do this, I was going to commit to it wholeheartedly.

Would I see Latika tonight? I couldn't decide if I wanted to or if I didn't. If it didn't go well, there would be something very final in it. She wouldn't be a confused kid this time, begging for me to stay. She was twenty years old, and as far as I knew, had been entrenched in Hunter ideology the entire time.

Who knew what she'd think of me now.

"I hope you're okay back there," I said, speaking to Verner through the cab wall. "I really hate that we can't speak to each other."

Silence. Because of course that's all there was. I contemplated turning on the radio so I had some noise to keep me company, but I'd never been a super confident driver, and I felt even less sure of it now after taking a long hiatus from being behind the wheel.

The roads weren't exactly busy this late, but they still felt much louder and scarier than anything in the shadow realm.

"Maybe I should just keep talking?" I suggested. "I feel like this must be really boring for you—the least I can do is keep you company as best I can."

After some hesitation, I said the words that had been weighing on my mind since I'd stupidly kissed Verner all those weeks ago. The words he'd generously let me off the hook from saying by not bringing it up and letting me pretend that nothing had changed.

It wasn't a facade we could maintain forever. I'd thought it was going to crumble when he was manhandling me into that tunnel thing and I'd slid down his body. Just the memory of it sent a shiver down my spine—if the circumstances had been less stressful, my scent would have been broadcasting just how much I enjoyed that loud and clear.

"It was really lovely of you not to bring up the kiss. You're so kind, you know. So careful not to push a subject if you think it might upset me, and in the beginning of our friendship, I really needed that. It was probably the only reason our friendship was able to get to the point where it is now. You made me feel so… safe. But I think we're beyond that now. We have to be. You've got to feel comfortable speaking openly and honestly to me, and I need to put on my big girl pants and deal with that. No more freezing. No more running."

I blew out a long breath, my hands tightening on the steering wheel. It was still cowardly of me to be having this conversation while Verner couldn't talk back, but in my mind, it was progress.

"I'm sorry for kissing you. Or, at least, I'm sorry for kissing you like that. For not talking about it with you first. I'm not sure I'd have even known how to bring it up, but it was wrong of me to just go in without us discussing it—honestly, I don't even know what I was thinking. Maybe I just read the situation wrong or something. Whatever feelings I have for you… I mean, our friendship comes first. That's the most important thing to me," I finished clumsily. Was it hot in here? It felt hot in here.

It had seemed so easy to say whatever I needed to say in the dark silence of the van, not having to look into Verner's eyes as I apologized. But I regretted it now. The lack of response was unnerving.

"Um. So, yeah. That's all I wanted to say," I mumbled lamely. "You're the best, and I'm really sorry that I am the way I am. I'll be quiet now."