Page 46 of A Vow of Shadows

Laughing, I pulled myself up, taking hold of the reins and sitting beside her. If I sat closer than was necessary, she didn’t remark upon it. I was intoxicated by her presence, by casual touches and small talk and looking up to find someone elselooking back at me. It was addictive. I felt myself falling under her spell and did nothing to resist.

We set off and I explained how the shadow creatures communicated with me via images that appeared directly in my mind. “It’s why I always thought they were an extension of me. I can see what they see.”

“Then it’s a good thing I send them out during my baths,” she quipped.

“I will never observe shadow images of you in such a compromising position,” I assured her.

She laughed nervously. “That’s a relief.”

“When I see you naked, I want to be able to run my hands over every inch of your body, followed by my tongue.” I kept my tone casual, my expression neutral.

Katrin’s gaze bore into the side of my face, but I kept my eyes trained on the road ahead, clicking my tongue to urge the horses on. I wanted to look, wanted to see if I affected her as much as she affected me, but I also feared what I would see. This playfulness developing between us could be nothing more. In less than a year, she would be gone, off to make a life for herself with some other man while I remained in The Between.

Always between.

The thought grounded me enough to quiet any further comments I had on the matter. We rode in silence for the remainder of the journey, though neither of us moved to create distance between our touching limbs.

When I finally brought the carriage to a stop, we were nowhere near any town. A great expanse of field stretched out around us, dotted with the occasional tree and shrub. We dismounted into tall grasses that brushed the tips of my fingers as I walked. The scythe in my hand seemed a mockery of its intended purpose.

Katrin followed closely at my heels. From her stumbling gait and the occasional muffled curse, I knew she was having adifficult time navigating the terrain. I didn’t waste my breath asking her to remain at the carriage. She wouldn’t.

A whisper of sound carried on the gentle breeze and I halted, forcing Katrin to do the same. Lifting one hand to prevent the expected barrage of questions, I turned my ear to the wind and listened. At first, the only sound was the susurrus of swaying grasses. Then came the unmistakable sound of human anguish.

I twisted, but Katrin moved first, hiking up her skirts and sprinting into the night. Her crashing footfalls were a beacon in the darkness. Calling forth my shadows, I stepped into their embrace and flew after her, exiting several paces in front of her. I thrust out my hand holding the scythe, and she skidded to a stop. Her eyes were saucers, but she wasn’t looking at me or the scythe. She was looking past me.

Turning, I switched my grip on the scythe to a defensive one and took in the scene before us. We had found our recently departed soul, and he wasn’t alone.

Chapter 32

Katrin

In the times that I’d accompanied Evander, we had never come across any mourners. Presumably, Lord Rencourt’s family had retired to bed after a day of funeral rites and Eunice had been alone.

Tonight, the soul in question stood beside his own body. Another man—alivingman—knelt between the divided parts of the first, hiccupping sobs rending the otherwise silent night.

“What do we do?” I whispered, unwilling to intrude on the scene.

Evander hesitated. He hadn’t yet donned his hood and indecision flickered across his face as he glanced at the sky. “It is early in the night. We could wait.”

I glanced at him sharply. “Is that what you’d usually do?”

By his answering glare, I knew it was not. I likely didn’t wish to know what he’d do without my presence there to temper him. He lifted his hood, face vanishing as he became the fearsome Ferrier. I took one look at his gleaming scythe and knew what I had to do. For the second time that night, I scrambled toovertake Evander, stepping into the small clearing before the spirit could notice the shadows roiling around him.

“Good evening,” I shouted, my voice a thunderclap compared to the gentle rain of the living man’s tears. I lifted my hand in a wave and pushed down the feeling that I was barging in on something private.

The soul glanced at me, startled. He was younger than I would have guessed, barely into manhood, with unkempt blond hair and a wiry frame he’d never get the chance to grow into.

“Who are you?” he asked, eyes darting around nervously. “What are you doing here?”

“My name is Katrin. I’ve come with a friend, and we’re here to help.” I couldn’t see Evander, but I didn’t want his presence to come as a surprise for the soul. Risking a tentative step forward, I glanced down at the empty body and immediately regretted it. I snapped my gaze back to the soul and attempted to school my features into their practiced neutrality. “What’s your name?”

The soul looked back down at the grieving man then back at me. “Theodore.”

I smiled. “It’s nice to meet you, Theodore.” As I stepped closer, I hoped the moonlight masked the mark on my face. Just in case, I angled my head away from spirit. It was not my intention to scare the poor soul. “Can you tell me what happened?”

There was nothing in the immediate vicinity to suggest a fight or struggle and yet, the body on the ground was drenched in dark blood.

Theodore shook his head and looked back at the man kneeling in his spilt blood. “He won’t leave.”