Vicki Pettersson - The Scent of Shadows

“Ben’s different,” I muttered. “He’s been through a lot, and he never stopped caring for Joanna.”

“Well, don’t you think that’s precisely why he might go right on over the edge?”

I wanted to shake Cher so hard her teeth rattled.

Something of my thoughts must have shown in my face because her own softened. “Oh, don’t listen to me, honey. I have such bad luck with guys…what do I know?” she said, sighing. “I always look for the one thing that’ll make them run. Then I do everything I can to make sure they do.” She practically deflated on the next sigh, showing a vulnerability that surprised me.

I let the subject of Ben drop, filing it away for later. Like when the smell of bubble gum and acetone wasn’t coloring my every thought. “Maybe it’s because you don’t let them see the real you.”

“Darlin’, all of me is real,” she said in that haughty tone I used to hate.

This time I only snorted and leaned my head back into the neck rest. “Then maybe that’s the problem. Maybe all they see is boobs and hair and nails…oh, and a really great tan.”

“Thank you. I think.”

I smiled over at her. “I’m just saying. There’s a lot more to you than meets the eye.” And I was surprised to realize I meant it. “You just need to find someone who will look at your internal beauty first.”

“Really?” she asked softly.

“Of course, really.”

She lifted her chin. “You’re right. That would be my kind of hero, anyway…you know, when you were asking earlier? I’ve been thinkin’ about it, and I’ve decided I wouldn’t need someone from the pages of a comic book. He wouldn’t have to leap over buildings for me, or even surprise me with the latest designs from fashion week. I have a personal shopper for that. But if somebody would just…be there.”

“Girl, that ain’t a hero,” one of the nail techs put in. “That’s a prince.”

Cher tilted her head and thought about that for a moment. “You think Wills or Harry would be interested in a slightly experienced southern woman?”

We all laughed, but a small part of me sighed. Be there? Ben would have done that.

Later, as we lounged in the dressing area, now surrounded by a comfortable silence, Cher said, “Thanks for letting me take you out today, Livvy-girl. I’ve really missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too. This was…the most normal thing I’ve done in a long time.” I ran the back of my hand over my eyes, mortified to find myself close to tears. All this girly stuff was getting to me. I probably just needed to hit something.

“I’m sorry we argued before.”

“It was my fault,” I said, shaking my head. “You were right. I had shut down. Thank you for being a good enough friend to say something.”

On a sob, Cher opened her arms for a hug. Thrilled—it was an indisputable sign that I’d passed this test—I held open my arms too. I’d no more than taken two steps toward her when she gasped so violently I jumped and whirled to defend myself against…anything.

“What?” I said, whirling back. Then I realized she was pointing at my chest. “What?”

“You’re streaked! The bitch streaked you!”

I turned to the full-length mirror and looked for myself. Sure enough, there was a medium-sized white blotch right in the middle of my chest.

“Shit.” Would this have happened to Olivia?

“Now you don’t have an even, all-over tan!” Clearly more distraught than I was, Cher had tears rolling down her face. “You’re not going to look cute naked! Oh, sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I said doubtfully. I wasn’t planning on anyone seeing me naked anyway. “How long did you say this stuff lasts?”

Cher wasn’t listening. She was moaning and cursing—delicately, of course—and pulling at her hair extensions. “I wanted this to be perfect!”

“It has been,” I assured her. “Really. I can’t think of the last time I’ve had this much fun.”

“Truly?” She sniffed, and stared at me through tearstained eyes.

I nodded. “This is the most fun I’ve ever had naked with another woman.”

“Except for that time in Cozumel.”

I’d puzzle that one out later.

“But now you have to wear turtlenecks for two whole weeks!”

Facing the mirror, I sighed. That answered that question.

“It’s not right!” Fresh tears welled in her eyes. “First you ruin your Louboutins and now you’re marked for life!”

“It’s not for—” I broke off, whirling to face the mirror again and looked closer. Marked .

“I think I’m faint,” Cher continued behind me. “I need a drink with something stronger than cucumbers in it.”

“It looks like…” I found I couldn’t finish. I cleared my throat and tried again. “It’s a…”

Cher gasped as she came up behind me. “I see it!” Her amazement, my horror, and the symbol on my chest were all reflected clearly in the glass across from us. Cher was the first to find her voice, and it was reverent. “It’s shaped like a stiletto!”

Shit. She could be right.

It was blurred, smudged around the edges, and not entirely drawn in—like a half-finished tattoo—but dammit, Cher just might be right. If I angled myself just so, squinting…

Damn. My glyph, I thought, turning to view it from another angle, was a fucking stiletto. But at least this time I didn’t have to wonder what Olivia would say.

“Well,” I said, and blew out a sigh. “At least it’s cute.”

I’d once thought myself a stranger to darkness, but as I drove back to Olivia’s apartment I thought back to my encounter with the construction worker earlier that day—cursing myself for remembering his name, Mark—and of the pain that had bloomed in his face as realization struck. At my words. Words Olivia would never have uttered. I shifted in my seat, uncomfortable with myself. Darkness, I was finding, came in many forms.

And what about what had happened in the comic store? Carl had seemed not only genuinely surprised that I could pull from both the Light and Shadow series, but I’d recognized that flash of fear as he looked from me to Zane and back at the comics in my hand.

So you’re the one, Zane had said.

The only one . Micah’s words hurtled back at me.

And then Warren’s, you’re the first sign.

I parked in Olivia’s spot in the underground garage, grabbed the comics from the trunk, and decided to read through them all tonight. I needed to fill in the holes Warren and Micah had left in my supernatural education…and in my life.

The phone was ringing as I slid the key in the door, and smelling nothing out of the ordinary, I jogged to the bedroom and grabbed the portable from its hook. Luna wound her silky body between my legs, nearly tripping me up.

“Hello.” I perched on the edge of the bed and leaned to stroke Luna’s head. She arched fluidly under my hand just as Warren’s voice reached my ear.

“Olivia, it’s time. We’ve got to get you out of here, to the sanctuary.” He sounded panicked and out of breath.

My hand froze on Luna’s back. “You said I wasn’t ready.”

“No choice. Every agent is ordered off the streets.”

“Why?”

“I don’t have time to tell you…hold on.” There was a muffled sound, like he’d placed his hand over the receiver or muffled it against his chest. After half a minute he was back. “Remember when I told you the Shadows had found a way to kill off our star signs? One by one?”

I nodded, though he couldn’t see it.

“Well, they’re tracking us; I don’t know how, but they have their next target. That’s why we all have to go.”

“Who are they after?”