Page 26 of Safe in Shadow
IT WAS LATE AT NIGHTwhen he showed himself, making sure the lights were low and the shadows were abundant. His name was scrubbed off the window, and the back parlor sparkled, a bunch of games and puzzles in worn boxes now sitting on the windowsill.
“Nyx?”
When Grace said his name, he almost flew straight through the ceiling and cowered back under the bed.
Weakling.
“Thanks for moving the table. I think.”
Oh. Oh, this was nice.
“And if it was you in the bath?”
He held whatever passed for breath.
“Thanks for that, too.”
Her steps were slow, meandering, and he followed, well back, hiding the darkest spots of the hall, thin now, a mere line of black that never broke when moonlight hit it.
Grace’s hand rested on the front door, fingers on the old brass deadbolt. “I think you’re not a bad guy. And I definitely think you’re a guy, after last night.”
She was blushing, and his insides lunged, eager to be with her again, smelling rushing blood and arousal. No, more likesensingit.
“If you’re a good guy, I need a sign.” She leaned forward, standing on her tippy-toes to breathe on the glass panes of the front door. “Write your name if you’re a good guy.”
He moved forward and stopped.
Not quite, Sunflower.
Another step forward.I’d try, possibly.
For her... For a chance to keep something of her, to keep becoming more human and less like thosethingsin the darkness... I’d try.
Her voice was smaller now, frightened, and her hand moved to the knob as she breathed a new cloud of steam, the old one vanishing. “Write your name if you're a bad guy,” she whispered, voice shaking.
Nothing.
It was a joy to see her shoulders relax.
“I’m probably being silly. God, I’m never going to drink again, not even a wine cooler. Okay, last try. If you’re not some figment of alcohol and exhaustion, and you’re not good, but you’re not bad, but you’re... friendly to me and my future guests, write your name.” One last, big breath of air rushed across the panes of glass, and Nyx surged forward.
He bumped Grace, and she gasped, a soft screech before she pulled back, and he became more than a thin line.
BEFORE HER EYES, SHEsaw the shadow take shape, spilling like ink in the air, but instead of running in drips and rivulets, it became a masculine shape: wide shoulders, narrow waist, and arms that were thick and muscular, for all they were insubstantial.
Grace watched the letters scrawl onto the glass.
NYX
So. There was something in her house. Something she’d seen. Fucked.
That could be bad.This could be aRosemary’s Babysituation.
“Are you a ghost?”
No
“A demon? Please don’t be a demon. And don’t lie. I’ll know if you’re lying.”
