Page 99 of Veil of Death and Shadow

“How do you know he’s hot?” I’d asked, thankful at the time, that Kieran hadn’t been within earshot. He’d been sitting next to a pair of our regulars, unbeknownst to them of course, watching with a bored sort of enthusiasm as they argued about whether vampires could turn humans if they chose.

A devilish smirk had crossed her features, and she poked between my eyes. “Because you get this look on your face whenever you stare at him.”

“How do you know when I’m staring at him,” I’d shot back, swallowing my embarrassment and hoping like hell Kieran couldn’t decipher my expressions as well as Sora could. “You can’t even tell where he is.”

“Well,” she’d said, a wicked gleam in her eyes as she followed my gaze, “he’s either over near the Fitzes, or you’re suddenly very attracted to our eighty-year-old regulars.”

“I—” I swallowed. “You’re sure that you’re good for the shift tonight? And breakfast tomorrow?”

“Yep,” she said with a knowing look, “no more clients today and I can call in backup if need be.” We often hired some of the teens in the area to pick up extra shifts when we were slammed and could afford it. They were always glad for the work, but mostly I think they just liked to feel like they were part of something. The ritual of doing something so mundane was comforting in a world split with chaos. “Did he say how long he’ll be around?”

I shook my head. “He’s not exactly forthcoming with how this whole guardian angel thing works.”

“Mysterious.” She winked. “Exactly your type.”

And that washow Kieran and I had come to be here, along the canal, listening to the slow rush of water as I thumbed through my book—because it was the only thing that came to mind when he’d asked how I liked to spend my time when Sora wasn’t around.

It took me a few minutes—to ignore his proximity and the strangeness of the whole scenario—but, eventually, I fell into the steady lull of the story, getting swooped up in the whirlwind romance and heart-pumping mystery of the book.

“I never understood the appeal of reading books,” Kieran said, after an hour or so of silence.

I set the book down, which required serious restraint. I’d just gotten to a particularly unexpected twist. “You don’t read?”

He shook his head. “Don’t think I liked it much when I was alive either. Think I preferred real-life experiences, not the kind that exist in books.”

Several of my favorite dark romances and horror novels came to mind, and I bit down on my smile. While I loved to read about certain . . . adventures, I was more than happy that they stayed between the pages of a book—a contract between me and the characters in which I got to experience the highlights of their lives without accumulating the wagon of trauma that came with all the rest.

“It’s the same as watching a film,” I said. “You wouldn’t want to live in a slasher movie, would you? But the adrenaline you get from watching the events transpire is exciting. Especially since you know that you’re experiencing it from the safety of your couch.”

“I suppose.”

“And with books, I feel closer to the characters. Like I’m reading about the adventures and experiences of a friend. I just feel like I’m a part of their lives, I guess?”

“Wouldn’t you rather just talk to your friends?”

“I—” I closed my lips, not entirely sure how to structure my response to the directness of that question.

This was something I hadn’t unpacked before, that books had sort of been my stand-ins for connections when I kept myself from having them. With books, the dangers of getting close to someone were blissfully absent.

“I don’t have many friends,” I said, after a few seconds of silence, “other than Sora, I mean.”

“Seems to me you have an entire restaurant of them,” he said. “Your customers all seem to know and adore you.”

“Know me, yes,” I said, “but it’s a different kind of knowing. They’re acquaintances. Some are closer than others, and we helpeach other out when we can. Especially since The Undoing. But Sora’s the only person I’ve really let in.”

“Why?” He shifted slightly as he studied me, until my leg lay over his. When I started to move away, to give him more room, he set his arm down on top of my calf, preventing me. “Friends and family—that’s what people love most about being alive, isn’t it? The comfort of connection? Isn’t that what people spend most of their lives chasing?” A look of amusement passed over his expression. “Suppose, even in death, many chase after it still.”

Perhaps this was ultimately why he was here, why I’d been handed a guardian angel in the guise of a broody stalker. Perhaps this was the path he’d been sent to guide me on, to show me the ways that I’d been wasting my life, living it incorrectly, guided by fear.

How very Dickensian.

“When you get close to people,” I said, searching for the right way to put it, “it makes losing them more difficult.” I shrugged, hoping I pulled off my feigned nonchalance better than he did. “And I have a habit of losing the people I get close to.”

He considered me for a moment. “The curse that your friend brought up last night—you really believe it, don’t you? That getting close to someone will edge them closer to death?”

“Well,” I took a deep breath, “it’s been true, historically.” After reciting the list of people I’d lost over the years, the number only increasing in the years since The Undoing—though the more recent losses had been mostly surface-level acquaintances—I closed my book, no longer in the mood to continue with my vicarious adventure. “Aside from Sora, Frank is the person I’m closest with.”

“And where is this Frank?”

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