But then I hear footsteps. Behind me. Slow. Steady. Not rushing or random.Tracking.
I glance back. Nothing but concrete and sunlight. A harmless summer day. Except it doesn’t feel harmless. The air presses in, thick and electric. Every nerve in my body is on high alert. Instinct screaming tomove.
I round the next corner fast, then nearly sprint the final block.
I hit the door and unlock it in record time, slamming it shut behind me, twisting the lock, and throwing the deadbolt for goodmeasure. Chest heaving, I lean against the wood. My pulse won’t slow. I hold my palm to my stomach as I try to calm down, but my skin won’t settle. The letter’s still in my pocket. And it feels like it's calling to me. My breath comes in hard bursts.
I’m safe. I’m fine.
Right? It’s like when I was little and would run up the basement steps because I was convinced something was going to pull me back into the darkness behind me. That’s it. The same creepy feeling. I’m in my head.
But the shadows in my little apartment look deeper in the afternoon sun. The corners too dark, edges flickering at the edge of sight. The air thrums with electricity. I yank the letter out of my pocket and throw it onto the table. It skids to an innocent stop next to my empty fruit bowl. Why did I even keep it?
“I don’t want any part of this,” I mutter.
The paper pulses. Faint gold light running along the edges, brightening with every beat of my heart. I freeze.What the hell?Across the room, the shadows shift. Stretch. Start tomove and pull away from the wall.
My gut twists. “No,” I whisper. “This isn’t real, it’s all in my imagination. Like when I was a kid.”
A tendril of darkness lashes out, cold as ice, wrapping tight around my ankle. I stumble back, grabbing at a chair for balance. The thing squeezes, leeching heat from my skin and burning me at the same time. On instinct, I snatch the nearest thing off the table, a thin glass vase still holding the brittle stems of dead flowers I hadn’t thrown away yet. I hurl it hard.
The vase shatters through the shadow with a hiss, shards scattering across the floor. The darkness recoils, writhing, but more tendrils slide across the floor toward me. Multiplying as they flow over the dusty tile. I back against the door, blood roaring in my ears, as I blindly try to find the doorknob.
Then the letter flares. Blinding gold light bursts from it with a crack that rattles the windows. In an instant, the shadows vanish. Completely gone. I stand frozen, breath ragged, staring at the table. The letter sits there, edges still glowing faintly. No scorch marks. No damage.
What the fuck?
Real.
This is real.
My ankle throbs—fiery and ice-cold at the same time. I shove up my pant leg, staring at the red welt where the shadow wrapped around me.
Fuck me. I’m not imagining this.
A knock hits the door at my back. Once. Twice. Then silence. I hold my breath, listening for footsteps walking away. No one should be here. I’m not exactly friendly with my neighbors, and my one and only friend moved two states over a month ago. When silence answers my straining ears, my heart slams harder. I step back, pulse racing.
And the lock…clicks. All on its own. The deadbolt slides free. I exhale harshly before sucking in another breath for a scream. The door swings open.
A man steps through.
Him.
The one from the diner. The booth. Same dark coat, same too-still presence. But this time—no sunglasses.
His eyes steal my breath from my chest. Pale and luminous, like a full moon caught in a twilight sky. Too bright. Too knowing. As if they can peel back skin, bone, and everything.
Up close, he’s beautiful in the way predators are beautiful. A thing meant to be feared, not followed or tamed. And whatever glamour smoothes his edges, something in me knows; he’s not human.
Not even close.
“You’ve been summoned,” he says. Like this is nothing more than a job, and I’m just another task to be checked off. “The Veil will not wait.”
I can’t move. Can’t breathe. But the letter saved me. The shadows were real. And this man, whatever he is, just walked through a locked door like it wasn’t even there.
“Who the hell are you?”
He tilts his head. A flicker of a smirk, gone before it fully forms. He blinks once as his face smooths over.
