When I solidify, they're in pieces. Shadows separated them at the joints.
"Please—" Young one. Younger than the kid Olivia healed. "Please, I won't—"
Shadow takes his head. Quick.
The violence feels right. This is what I'm for. Not portraits. Not vegetables. This.
Grimm's bleeding. Leg cut deep. I cage his attackers in shadow. Bones break. Four bodies drop. He nods thanks.
"Boss. Found documents."
The Luminary authorizing payment. Calling Olivia "corrupted light" needing "cleansing."
My shadows explode outward. Even Joss pauses.
"Finish them."
We do. All of them. No survivors. Just bodies.
The return's harder. Shadow roads demanding payment I don't have. Black spots. Grimm stumbles. We're all running empty.
Back at the warehouse, deep night. My shadows race to her corner. She's awake. Organizing supplies by candlelight.
"Go clean up," I tell Grimm. He limps off.
Joss stays. Blood seeping from her shoulder.
"You're shaking."
"Fine."
"When did you actually sleep?"
Can't remember. Everything blurs except violence.
"Check on the healer. Make sure she's not being charitable."
She's right. I head over, shadows racing ahead. Stumble. Catch the wall. Shadows sluggish. Almost collapse.
She's on a crate hanging sheets. Wobbling. Hair tangled with sleep. Same dress as yesterday, blood on the hem.
Through the shadow bed I made, I feel her warmth. The indent where she was lying. When she shifts on the crate, I feel it through every shadow here.
"Need proper walls," she says without turning. "Sheets don't block sound. People need privacy for medical things."
"Medical things."
"Embarrassing injuries. Emotional breakdowns. Crying for dead friends." The crate wobbles. I move forward.
"Where were you?"
"Tidying loose ends."
"Tidying." She turns. Sees the blood. "You're covered in... tidying."
"Yes."
She climbs down. Walks over. Lavender soap. Her hand rises, drops.
