Page 114 of Veil of Death and Shadow

“It’s not your time,” the man said, his emotionless eyes locked on mine as he drained her of her life, “but it will be one day.”

This. This moment was where I recognized him from. Those eyes haunted this day with the persistence of a predator.

“Amto Amani,” I screamed, her name on my lips more the screech and metallic wail of a feral thing, than the cries of a young girl. I bent over, tried my best at clawing myself forward, hopeful that if my feet wouldn’t obey me, my talons might. “Don’t touch her.”

But the man paid me no more heed, his focus now funneled to the task at hand. And when he was done, he left without a passing glance, leaving me alone and fumbling over a broken corpse.

Death was only good for one thing—an empty, relentless hunger—and when he demanded a meal, it was best served in cold blood.

“It’s okay, you’re okay,”a deep, rumbling voice vibrated into my back, jangling against my ribs. “Breathe, Agony. Breathe. It was just a dream.”

I choked on the whiplash of being pulled from that scene to this one. My bedding had tumbled to the floor, and my skin was caked in sticky sweat.

My arms flailed in front of me, searching for Amto Amani, but I couldn’t move.

“Breathe,” the voice said again, its whisper a soft caress at the shell of my ear.

Light poured through the window, and when I glanced up, I noticed Menace standing on my dresser, watching me, unsure whether to approach.

My body was caged between two strong, tattooed arms, and my heart beat a heavy protest against their firm grip.

Slowly, they relented, and I took advantage of the sudden freedom, scooting to the edge of my bed.

I brushed my hair from my eyes, wincing at how slick my skin was, and then froze when I saw him. “Kieran?”

His eyes were hard as they darted between mine, his face edged with concern. He lifted his hands between us, as if approaching a timid animal, and sat up. “You were having a nightmare.”

I nodded.

It was a frequent nightmare—one with a thousand variations and shifts, though the ending was always the same.

Always that man. Always those eyes. And always Amto Amani’s empty shell.

“Did you stay here all night?” I asked, not bothering to keep the accusation from my voice.

He winced. “When you fell asleep, you shifted onto my chest, and I didn’t want to wake you.” He ran his hand through his rumpled hair, looking suddenly shy. “I waited for a while, but then I guess I . . . dozed off, too.” The corner of his lips dipped as he stared at my pillow. “It wasn’t planned. I don’t usually sleep much in this realm.”

I stood, feeling self-conscious of the silk shorts and baggy t-shirt, and the clear bird’s nest that was my hair.

Without glancing back at him, I walked over to Menace and stroked the back of his head. “Morning.”

He nipped affectionately at my finger, and followed me to my door, flying through it the moment I opened it and straight towards his bowl of treats.

Honestly, I was surprised to find him in my bedroom. Menace was usually skittish around strangers, but he seemed to be warming up quickly to Keiran.

The apartment was quiet, unusually so.

Judging by the fact that I hadn’t been awoken by an alarm, and the digital clock on the stove was out, there had been another power surge.

It was rare for me to sleep this late.

I ran to Sora’s room, to see if she’d overslept, too, but it was empty.

Taking the stairs two at a time, I charged into the restaurant, expecting to find her behind the counter, the chaos of the breakfast rush slowly dissipating. Without electricity, it would have been an unexciting meal, but we kept provisions on hand to keep the people fed when our cooking resources were limited.

But the restaurant was empty, shaded by the blinds still pulled over the window, the entire room looking just as it had when I’d closed everything down last night.

She hadn’t opened it this morning.

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