Vicki Pettersson - The Scent of Shadows

“A mask?” Micah said.

“No,” I said. Not a mask, though it would probably be drawn that way in Zane’s comics. My eyes lifted. “It’s a shield.”

Hunter inclined his head. “Try it on.”

Securing it over the bridge of my nose first, I slid it along my skull and fastened it below the bun. I shook my head side to side.

“How does it feel?” Vanessa asked.

“Like it was made for me,” I answered, thinking Warren would approve. Not only would it shield my eyes from the lights within the chute, but it would conceal my identity for as long as I wore it.

Spotting a full-length mirror to the left of the launch pad, I stood in front of it and studied the reflection. It smiled. For the first time since taking over Olivia’s identity, I recognized myself. “It’s perfect.”

“Of course,” Hunter said with his usual arrogance. You can also use it to freely enter and leave the sanctuary in the future, just like the rest of us.”

“Good thinking,” Vanessa said.

I inclined my head, giving him his due credit, and because I was grateful. Now I could hide my Shadow side, at least in this one small way.

“I just don’t get it!” Felix exclaimed, and began circling me again. “It’s like there’s a wall around you. I can see you, but I sure didn’t hear you come in, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t scent you, even though you’re only two feet from me.”

“Doesn’t bode well for tracking down Shadow signs, does it?” Vanessa said.

Felix gave her a steely look.

Hunter stepped closer. He leaned in as he had in the dojo, crowding my space, taking up all the room. I unlaced the shield and lowered it from my eyes as he scratched his chin.

“Figure it out yet?” I asked in a low voice, gaze steady on his.

Vanessa gasped just as understanding dawned, widening Hunter’s hooded eyes. There was an uncomfortable shifting in the room, like wind lifting suddenly in a tree.

“Greta?” Hunter asked, face unreadable.

I smiled.

“Oh, my God! You possess the aureole again!” Micah said, up to speed now. “The needles?”

“You used her own weapon against her,” Hunter said, his voice considering. “Like you did with Butch. So you could walk the mortal world like a ghost. That’s why none of us sensed you.”

“God,” Felix breathed from behind me. He had backed away.

“You killed Greta?” Vanessa asked, her voice small. “In cold blood?”

“No. I was still pretty pissed when I did it.” Then I held out a hand to stave off any more comment. “The point is, I have the ability to walk around completely undetected for the next twelve hours.”

“All night,” Gregor said, and excitement lined his words.

“No, the point is she murdered someone who was half Light in order to gain power!” Vanessa pointed at me, and I was surprised to see her hand shaking.

“You’ve got it wrong, Vanessa,” I said, turning on her. She swallowed hard but didn’t back away. “What I did was take the power from someone who used to be half Light, and now I’m going to use that to battle the Shadow side. See the difference?”

She opened her mouth to argue, then let it snap shut again. After a moment, she nodded. “You’re right. It’s a powerful weapon.”

“Wish I’d thought of it,” Felix said, his voice wistful.

“If you’re all done chatting,” Hunter said, moving back to the launch pad, “perhaps we can get to the fighting now?”

“Isn’t there a way to test this first?” I asked, holding my shield out in front of me.

“No time,” Hunter said, flexing his fingers, rolling his neck. There was no hesitation in his voice, but I was gratified to see his movements actually appeared nervous. Even superhumans were human. “Fifteen minutes until the light splits.”

Felix clapped his hands together. “So let’s go kick some preternatural ass.”

“On my signal, cowboy,” Hunter said, earning a scowl. “Once you’re through the chute, move aside because I’ll be coming up fast. Vanessa, take the left flank. Olivia, you go up last.”

“But—”

“Last,” he repeated. “They won’t sense you so maybe they won’t see you. Besides, when was the last time you felt Warren stirring inside of you?”

I thought about it. It’d been a while.

“I don’t want that connection severed. He may be too weak without you.”

“Thanks for your concern,” I muttered, earning nothing more than an arched brow.

“Whatever you do, don’t hesitate. These bastards are fast.”

“Not as fast as we are,” Felix said, earning a high five from Vanessa. He rubbed his hands together, his boyish enthusiasm turned deadly.

“Wait,” I said, suddenly nervous. “What if I accidentally shoot one of you? I mean, what if I can’t tell the difference?”

“Can’t tell the difference between Shadow and Light?” Felix scoffed. “Impossible.”

Have you looked at me? I wanted to say. Have any of you really seen me?

“It’s too late to worry about now,” Hunter said, and motioned Felix forward to stand on a large X. Raising his left hand, Hunter placed his right on a chrome lever. “Felix, go.”

With a whoosh of air, he was gone. Hunter took his place and, without hesitation, or even a backward glance, shot from mid-crouch up the chute.

Vanessa flipped open her conduit, the blades of the fan locking violently in place. Then she whipped it shut again, holding it ready in her right hand. She looked straight up, back slightly bowed, like she was beseeching the heavens. Throwing back the lever, she whispered a final word. I couldn’t hear it, but I read her lips, and it was, indeed, an invocation. Stryker’s name.

And suddenly I was alone.

I swallowed hard, and tried to think of my mother—what would she think if she could see me now?—but she and all of my other soft memories had been locked up tight, and to access them now would mean revealing my light to the world. I touched my chest where Warren’s second heart had, until recently, resided, but he too seemed to have abandoned me. Or did he think we’d abandoned him? The thought put some resolve into me. I didn’t know what I was about to face, but at least I knew why.

Finally, I knew why.

Slipping the shield over my eyes, I let Greta’s fresh death course through my blood, and the other death I’d caused poked its head, Butch-shaped, above the murky swamp of my darkest thoughts. I let the images surface, and my palms itched as I recalled slicing a tongue, severing hands, pushing a syringe. I let the darkness swirl inside of me, upsetting the hate that had settled like silt on the bottom of my soul. Hand on my conduit, I mainlined adrenaline and stood as the others had, on the giant X, knees bent in anticipation. Then I threw back the lever, and my body was shuttled into space.

They were fighting before I ever made it up the chute. I could hear them, their cries tunneling past me as I rose to the surface, the wind screaming in my ears, my eyes and temples cool and untouched beneath the shield. If the breath wasn’t being whisked so rapidly from my body, I would have sighed in thanksgiving.

My arrival above was announced by nothing more than a hiss, and that masked by the combat around me. I crouched atop the Slipper and took a quick inventory. The boneyard was awash in shadows. And Shadows.

Felix had been right—it was physically impossible not to discern the difference between the two. Agents of Light were like overgrown fireflies, zigzagging in the air, easy targets were they not so damned fast. Stars trailed in blinding streaks behind them, the air sparkling in their wake. The Shadows—trailing smoke behind them like downed bombers—had the best chance to nail one by anticipating their moves, striking the air marked before them. But the agents of Light anticipated this too.