Page 67 of Veil of Death and Shadow

Of course, it became clear once meeting in person that he’d never actuallyreadthem—he’d clearly used the internet or his more bookish friends to initiate a conversation that he had no interest in continuing once we were on the actual date.

Was there such a thing as emotional or intellectual catfishing?

Because I was pretty sure that’s what this was.

And somehow it was so much worse than if he showed up looking entirely different from his pictures.

As it was, I was trying to salvage the night anyway. It was Friday, I’d suffered through the intricate negotiation between eyeliner and makeup remover that led to a killer cat eye, and I’d already gone through the tedious effort of actually leaving the apartment.

The bar was cool at least. And since I never went out with anyone more than a couple of times, it hardly mattered if his company was less than desirable. In some ways, it was almost preferable this way.

Ace was a student at the local university, and I loved any excuse to come to this part of town. There was something appealing about sinking into the college crowds, walking through campus, eating at the restaurants the students frequented, combing through the bookstore’s lists of textbooks—though damn those prices were ridiculous. Thank god I preferred fiction.

Would I ever have the money and freedom to go to a school like this? Absolutely not. But it sure was nice to dream occasionally—to imagine what my life might have looked like if things had been different. If I had a family, stability, and the comforts that went with those things growing up.

So, in different circumstances, I would have absolutely bailed on the date after scarfing down our mediocre burgers. But Ace pulled through in one way at least. He had tickets for a small show on the outskirts of campus and I knew the music would at least drown out his mindless chatter. His roommate apparently knew the band, and he’d used that hookup to sneak us in without ID’s—something I was grateful for and couldn’t do so easily without him.

While I wasn’t vibing with him, I was absolutely vibing with this venue. It was dark and grungy—the floor the sort of sticky that no mop could strip, the wooden booths lining the perimeter carved up with initials and plastered with stickers from the bands that had played here in years past, the bar lined with gray-haired dudes, who all gave me the sense that they’d been regulars since their college days.

It was the sort of place I would have hated working at—the stick alone, built up from years of beer spills, would have been a pain in the ass to deal with—but I loved getting to exist inside of it for one night.

According to my quick research on the place, it had been around for nearly seventy years and was a frequent haunt forSeattle’s literary and music scene. It was grimy and dark and something about being here made me feel settled in the city, just knowing that I was existing in the same place where so many artists had their start.

In short, I could happily suffer a less-than-perfect date for the chance to linger in here for a little while longer, listening to a newly formed band as they fought to find their sound amongst a cluster of college kids who were searching for their own sense of self with a similar sort of rigor. Fake it ‘til you make it, babes.

The band started a new song, this one slower than the last, and the lead-singer-slash-bassist crooned a soulful tune that drew in the crowd’s attention more than the previous songs had. She was talented, radiant, and it was clear that the band had a promising future—she just had to wait until the rest of them caught up to her.

My body moved to the beat, as if of its own accord, and I let myself sink into the sound, to connect to the chaotic atmosphere and the captive audience.

Until I felt my skin prickle with the sort of awareness that came with being watched. When my eyes snapped open, I expected to find Ace watching me from the bar—a thought that sent a shiver of discomfort down my spine.

But, instead, my eyes locked on Levi.

I froze when I saw him. It had been a month since that day on the canal, and we hadn’t heard from or seen him since.

He stood with his back propped up against the wall, half-hidden in shadows. Like before, he was dressed in black pants and a black T-shirt, his hand dangling a beer bottle next to his leg.

Eyes on me, he pressed the bottle to his lips and took a drink.

My stomach dipped under his attention, but I brushed the feeling away.

I offered a small wave, giving him the opportunity to pretend he didn’t see me if that’s what he wanted. Part of me hoped he ignored me, though I wasn’t sure why.

Instead, his brows lifted, and he spun around, as if expecting someone else to be standing next to him.

I smiled, my body still buzzing with adrenaline as the crowd around me swayed to the music. Who the hell else would I be waving to?

He nodded once, his lips twitching into a barely-there grin, but stayed where he was, as if giving me the same opportunity to bail. Usually, I would have.

Whenever I ran into a random acquaintance in the wild, I almost always did the normal thing of pretending I didn’t see them and continuing on my way. Seattle was a town of introverts, so that was usually the expected and preferred practice anyway

But the ambiance of the place put a spring in my step, and I found myself suddenly desperate for company more riveting than my date’s.

A quick glance over at Ace showed that he was still in line at the bar, so I maneuvered my way to Levi.

“Good to see you again,” I yelled, my voice getting swallowed up by the gravelly sound system.

His brows furrowed as he watched me.

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