He thinks I look like a rebel! Or at least, that was the most accurate insult he could come up with. I chose my outfit well.
I give him a jaunty salute. “Thank you!”
Once I’ve walked past his building, I pick up the tune again. I’m sure it’s cheering up more people than it’s annoying.
I cross the street and head around the block, my gaze sliding over the shadows. A few lesser creatures have ventured over to see what the odd but non-homicidal higher shadowkind in their midst—a.k.a. me—is up to.
I don’t think any of them are from the strange rift. The energy I sense as I pass them feels more settled than the warped beasts ever do.
The sun rises higher. The shadows shrink, and I veer closer to the buildings.
Then a figure leaps down into the middle of the road twenty feet ahead of me as if she’s popped out of the air.
Viscera lands hard enough to set off a minor earthquake. The asphalt cracks beneath her boots. She grins at the damage before lifting her gaze toward me.
Her form has shifted again, other than the crocodile tail that seems to be her favorite appendage. Her hair sprouts from her head and down her neck in a style I think I’ve heard humans call a mullet. Her face has widened but her body has narrowed, making her look unnervingly top-heavy.
I don’t think I’d want her to head-butt me.
“Periwinkle,” she says. “You came back.”
Her voice has morphed too, thicker and huskier than I remember it. Her tongue flicks over yellowed teeth as if she’s imagining snacking on me.
I stay where I am, because more distance seems safer, and put on my brightest smile. At the same time, I picture her lunging at me and sinking those yellowed teeth into my neck.
A jolt of panic at the image resonates through my veins. I know my men have picked up on it from the surge of distress that echoes into me in return.
They shouldn’t worry too much. This was how we planned that I’d signal them if I encountered Viscera—the most fundamental way we can communicate without using devices that might tip her off that I’ve sounded a warning.
I keep my voice bright too. “I did. It’s a nice city. You’ve been here for a while now. Have you found anything you like about it?”
She snorts. “I like breaking it. That’s the best use for all this human garbage.”
Then she cocks her head as if waiting to hear what I’ll say. As if she’s actually interested in my perspective.
I dig up all the calming imagery I’ve practiced since I arrived at the academy. Pictures of blue skies with fluffy clouds and ocean waves lapping at golden beaches float through my mind. A banquet of serenity.
As I nudge a careful whiff of that vibe toward Viscera like I have with lesser creatures in the past—like I did with Mirage last night—a splash of chardonnay-sharp anxiety hits me from farther away. My sense of the men I’ve marked is strengthening more as they rush toward me.
They’re awfully worried. Can’t they tell she isn’t hurting me?
I guess it’s hard for them to believe I might not become a target of her joy of smashing.
I can’t afford to redirect any of the soothing vibes I’m summoning to them. If I’m going to tame Viscera even a little, it’ll take all my concentration. As it is, a jitter runs through my nerves at the urgency of their emotions.
I take a deep breath and focus even more narrowly on the peaceful scenes in my head. “There are definitely some things humans make that might as well be garbage. But I have seen lots of good things from them too. Like food. Have you tried eating any of the things they cook or bake?”
Does she even need to eat? Most shadowkind don’t have to—at least not regular types of food. If they do need to consume something in the mortal realm, it’s more ephemeral like my hunger for emotions or more animalistic like Raze’s hankering for raw meat.
Another jolt of fear shoots through me, and I find myself gritting my teeth against a swell of my own uneasiness. The glowing spot on my chest jerks at my attention.They’re upset. You have to help them.
No, I don’t. This is the plan. They’ll see I’m okay as soon as they get here.
Let them get here fast.
That last thought sets my nerves jangling at a higher pitch. My smile tightens a little around the edges.
Thankfully, Viscera is distracted by my question. “Food? It looks interesting when I splatter it across the floor or the walls. Why would you put anything like that sticky, mushy stuff in your body?”
