Shadow (Touched by the Fae 2)

Running off again, hiding from the Black Pine doctor… that’s the only thought racing through my mind as I put distance between me and the cafe. Gotta get away, can’t let him see me. Someone might have found Carolina by now. How long before they put two and two together and realize I might know something about that?

No. No. Running is the only option I’ve got.

Except I can’t run. Tearing down the street would only make me more memorable, make it easier for someone else to track me. I’ve spent way too long figuring out how to stay under the radar. The glasses hide my eyes, Carolina’s baseball cap covers my distinctive pale hair and the fae ears I can’t disguise.

Why didn’t I dye my hair?

I should’ve freaking dyed my hair.

I hear the door jingle open behind me and I make a split decision. Instead of going straight, I veer left, taking the corner with an awkward turn so that I don’t run right over the man huddled just inside.

Within seconds, I realize two things.

One? He’s gone. The homeless man who whispered his prophetic warning about the cafe is gone. I don’t even see a single scrap of soiled fabric lying on the asphalt to mark where he’d been huddled a few minutes before.

His mysterious disappearance isn’t even the worst of it, either.

This alley was an open one. I would’ve sworn it. Most of the breaks in this part of the downtown lead from the main street to the back doors; it’s how I avoided the cop last time, taking an open path blocked off by a fence. When I passed by the bearded man earlier, I thought I saw straight through to the other side.

Not any longer.

It’s a dead end. I’m boxed in, brick walls on three sides, a narrow opening on the fourth. A stack of boxes is piled up about halfway down the stretch, with a gloomy darkness at the far end. No open path, though. No fence.

No hope.

Crap. As I race toward the stack of boxes, crouching down so that I’m somewhat hidden, I have to wonder: did I go the wrong way? Or run further and faster than I thought? Maybe. It honestly doesn’t matter since, with Dr. Gillespie’s heavy footsteps chasing behind me, I’m about to be caught.

“Riley?” I don’t see him yet, but I sure hear him. Excitement colors his nasally tone. “Riley! Don’t run. I want to help you.”

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

There goes any hope that he was just leaving the cafe at the same time and he didn’t see me.

Damn it!

Okay. I’ve only got one shot at getting out of this without having to face off against my old psychologist. There’s nothing left for me to do. If I don’t want to walk out of the alleyway and slam right into the doctor, there’s only one way for me to go.

Staying as low as possible to hide, I take off again, bolting down the dark depths of the alley, heading right for the shadows that seem to be calling out to me. I squeeze myself up against the wall, twisting my body until I’ve made it as small as possible.

Fighting back the panic, I risk closing my eyes for a few seconds. Then, hoping that this actually works, I try to pull the shadows toward me.

Nine was right. Sometimes I just have to forget about what’s possible and what’s not, and when it comes to the power inside of me, I have to just let it happen.

The shadows greet me like an old friend. They lick at my cheek, causing the ends of my pale hair to flutter and sway before they rise up from the asphalt, wrapping around my legs, my middle, my throat. It’s just about instant. By the time Dr. Gillespie strolls deep into the alley, checking behind the boxes, searching the closed-off space for me, I’m completely covered.

He pauses when he’s about ten feet away from my hiding place. I have this irrational urge to back further away, moving deeper into the darkness until my back’s up against the other wall. Since I don’t want to risk catching his attention or making any noise, I stay put.

I might stop breathing a bit, too.

Go away, I plead inside my head, my teeth gritted to keep from blurting the words out loud. It’s just a shadow, you don’t see me, and you should just go away.

“Riley?” His voice softens. He doesn’t have to shout because, for some reason, he knows I’m here. He just doesn’t know where. “Come out. The whole facility has been worried sick about you. Black Pine needs you back. You’re not in any trouble. Come on out.”

That’s gonna be a no.

Sorry, doc.