Page 66 of Veil of Death and Shadow

Like the fact that he was standing in the middle of my kitchen, uninvited.

He wasn’texactlylike Claudine and Greta though.

Now that I knew what they were, now that I let myself really see them, the differences started to emerge. The women weren’t quite as vibrant andhereas he was—their skin papery and grayer, their movements more fluid than any human’s would be. They weren’t transparent or anything, but there was something strangely . . . airy about their appearance. Ephemeral, almost.

And the longer I stared, the more the image of them collapsed into the visions I occasionally had—another world, transposed on top of this one.

Did that mean it was real? This world I’d been conjuring for years, trying like hell to ignore.

Was it this Between place he mentioned?

And what about Kieran?

People could see him. Lenora and Ren at Incendiary—they’d even spoken to him.

But then just now, Sora had walked by without giving him so much as a glance.

And well, while Sora was only rarely interested in men, Kieran was the sort of guy who kind of demanded a second look.

His touch had also felt nothing like Claudine’s had—like a shadow against my skin, a distinctive lack. His had been solid, heated.

“Give her some space, ladies.” Kieran gestured to the women, and they faded away. Gone entirely.

His stare rested on me, not without compassion, but also devoid the heat I remember from last week.

“You’re different than they are.” I swallowed the waver in my voice. “I touched you.”

“I am,” he said, a brief, self-satisfied smirk cracking through his otherwise unreadable expression, “and you did.”

“What are you?” Though I wasn’t sure I really wanted the answer to that question. “And why are you here? Why are you following me?”

He sat down in the booth, occupying Claudine’s usual spot, his arms spread wide over the back ledge as he studied me.

“Think of me like a guardian angel of sorts,” he said, the corner of his mouth flickering into a soft frown, there and then gone, just as quickly, “and you, thanks to a cruel twist of the fates, are apparently my new charge.”

11

MAREENA

Approximately Nine Years Ago, Three Years Before The Undoing

The music was loud, the kind of loud that drilled into the soles of my feet and vibrated all the way up, until it settled somewhere inside of my ribs. The kind of loud that made you feel like you were a part of it, participating in the sound.

I loved it.

My date? Not so much.

“I’ll grab us a drink, sound good?” he asked, his breath warm against my ear as he leaned down. It took everything I had to not flinch at the sensation.

“Great, thanks.” I offered up a grin, though it stretched uncomfortably across my face, and I hoped he didn’t sense the force behind it.

According to his profile on the app, his name was Joseph, though when we met up, he insisted that I call him Ace. At first glance, the date should have been okay. He was cute—athletic, dark hair, tall, good smile—but the conversation had been stiltedand awkward and he just kind of gave off one of those vibes. The sort that I wouldn’t have said yes to if he’d asked me out in real life, without the veneer of a screen.

We grabbed a quick dinner before the show, and he’d spent nearly the entire time talking about the frat he was pledging, the coolest parties he’d gotten into, and complaining about a never-ending list of bad dates he’d been on thanks to the apps.

In the entire forty minutes I’d spent with him so far, he’d asked me exactly one question about myself. That question was about my major, even though my profile very clearly stated that I didn’t go to college, though I hoped to start taking classes at one of the local community colleges next semester.

Disappointing didn’t cover it. I’d only agreed to go out with him in the first place because he’d messaged me about the books I had listed in my bio.

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