Veiled (Ada Palomino 1)

I look back to the crow but it’s gone now, as is the shadow. “How long has this been going on?” I ask quietly. “How long have I not been seeing it?”

“As I said before, years.”

“So why now am I in danger?”

A couple walking past the table give us a weird look. I hunch over and lean in close to Jay as he speaks.

“As I said before,” he repeats slowly, a flicker of impatience in his blue eyes, “you’re coming into your own. You’re an adult. A woman.”

Is he hinting at my own sexual awakening or some new-agey bullshit?

“For the record,” I tell him. “I’m not a virgin. And I’ve been a woman for a while.”

He cocks his head at me, frowning. “Oh, I know.” He pauses, studying my expression, which must be one of horror because I don’t know want to know how he knows that. “The impetuousness of youth. You may be eighteen but you have a lot of growing up to do. And you’re about to grow up really, really fast.”

“Ada?” Amy’s shrill voice comes from across the shop.

“Shit,” I swear, wishing I could hide. I tell Amy everything and she’s not going to like the fact that I’m having coffee with a strange man.

“Your friend is here,” Jay says quietly.

Amy comes to the table, her boyfriend Tom in tow behind her. Both of them stare down at me like I’m someone they don’t even recognize.

“Hey,” I tell her.

“Hey yourself,” she says testily. “You might want to answer your texts, I’ve been harassing the hell out of you. What, you can’t bother to reply?”

I honestly haven’t even checked my phone in the last day. I nod at Tom, who despite his indignation for Amy’s sake, is usually mellow as fuck. “Hey Tom.”

He nods back. “Sup, Ada.”

“Sorry,” I say to Amy, offering my sweetest smile. “I’ve been busy.”

“I can see that,” she says, her attention now on Jay, inspecting him with a look of utter disapproval. “And who are you?”

“Jay,” he says, holding out his large hand.

She eyes it before shaking. “Jay who?” She winces a little under his grip.

“Jay,” he says, taking his hand back, and for a moment I wonder if he even has a last name. “Jay Abrams.”

“J.J. Abrams?” she repeats suspiciously, like she can tell he totally made up that name on the spot.

He nods. “Yes.”

Ugh. He doesn’t get it.

“Jay just moved in next store,” I tell her quickly. “He’s renting a room. I’m showing him around Portland.”

Amy seems to relax a little. “Oh. Well, welcome to the neighborhood. Where did you live before?”

I expect him to be vague but he says, “Ramona, California.”

“Cool.” She looks back to me, her brow arching high. “Well, maybe text me later if it doesn’t kill you, okay?”

She and Tom wave goodbye and they’re gone. I can’t help but let out a long sigh of relief.

“She doesn’t know about you,” Jay notes. “About your family. Your truth.”

“No,” I tell him. “Believe me it’s a lot better that way.”

“Is it?”

I give him a questioning look. “Of course it is. She’ll think I’m nuts.”

“How do you know? Isn’t she your friend?”

“How do I know? Because I would think she was nuts if the situation was reversed.”

“But you would still stay her friend.”

“Of course I would. I love crazy people.”

He exhales sharply out of his nose as he stares at me. “Can I give you a bit of advice, Ada?”

“You can give me all the advice,” I tell him. “Please. Especially the advice that’s about how to not get eaten by demons.”

“You should tell her. Get it over with. Right now, things are easy for you.”

“Easy?” I repeat.

“They’re about to get harder. You need to know whether you can rely on your friends or not. You need to find that out now, while you can still stand on your own two feet. Because if you put your trust into someone and the going gets rough and they bail? The fall might kill you.”

I don’t want to think about it. I don’t want to talk to Amy about any of this. She’s my friend. She’s my escape to a normal life. I can’t risk losing her, losing that.

A few moments of silence pass between us, Jay looking back out the window, his eyes searching the passersby. Meanwhile my heart is in knots because I know I should follow his advice, and my stomach is churning, possibly because of the sugar and coffee, possibly because I can’t come to terms with anything that I’ve been told today. Even the monster thing I just saw is something I have to push aside for now. If Jay can have a locked door in his head, so can I.

“Is your last name really Abrams?” I ask him.

He smiles quickly. “No. I don’t have one. I suppose I should. I just thought of the guy who directed the new Star Wars.”