ONCE CLAY HAD left in his search for a payphone, Zarita clucked her tongue.

“Let’s see what we’ve got to eat. What do you feel like?”

I shrugged as I moved over to the window to watch Clay walk away down the street.

“No preference?”

I shook my head.

“Well, how about souvlaki? I have some I prepared before I left for Paris. It’s one of Clay’s favorites you know.”

“Is it?” The words slipped out before I’d even thought about it, but as soon as they had, I realized the dreadful truth. I knew so little about him, about his likes and his dislikes. We’d explored every part of each other, and yet we were still virtual strangers. I knew things about him it might take some people years to learn, but the simpler things had passed us by. I’d let him down by not knowing his favorite food, his favorite color, or even his birthday.

What do I know about him? I sighed heavily in response to the thought. I knew I could trust him, and that despite what it had cost me I loved him and I wasn’t willing to let that go again.

“Knowing each other comes with time together, dear.” She clearly understood my melancholy. “You two haven’t had much chance for that yet. It will come.”

Zarita buzzed around the kitchen with a practiced ease. I turned to watch her for a moment before glancing back down to the street that had swallowed Clay up long ago.

“Clay told you all about us, didn’t he?” I asked quietly.

Leaving the meat to cook, she moved over to me and stroked my arm softly. “He had a lot to work through. I like to believe that I helped him a little.”

“Thank you for being there for him.” I couldn’t begrudge him the fact that he’d had someone to ease his darkest hours just because I hadn’t had the same luxury.

“If you need someone to talk to, I am a good listener.”

I smiled at her reflection in the window. “Thank you, but I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“I know that you might not agree with the assessment, but you are stronger than he is.”

I shrugged. “I’ve just had less to lose than him.”

“Only because you lost so much before you were even born.” She ran her hand over my hair in such a motherly gesture that I almost choked on my emotions.

“What was your first experience with this life?” I asked to change the subject.

She raised her eyebrow to prove she knew exactly what I was trying to do, but she allowed the shift. “My first was your mother, although I didn’t know it then. Mythology just seemed so related to ancient linguistics it made sense to study it. Six months after she’d left, while I was still at university, I had my first true experience. He was so handsome, so dark and mysterious. I’d thought he was human and that what I felt was love.”

“What happened?”

“I woke one night, and he was in my bed.” Her tone was dark, and I understood more than her words actually said. “At first, I was too shocked to even speak, but when I tried to push him off of me, his eyes glowed red and his nails became talons.”

I stepped away from the window and moved closer to the kitchen. “What was he?”

“Incubus.”

“Wow, so what did you do?”

“I fought,” she said. “He chose the wrong woman when he chose me. I grew up very poor in a rough neighborhood, so I knew how to defend myself. I’d had to learn early just to survive.

“After that, my mythology subjects were no longer just about helping me to better understand linguistics. I amassed all of the information I could about all manner of creatures. A few years later, I’d discovered what your mother was and attempted to contact your father to let him know what I’d learned to see if they could use any of the information I’d found. That . . .” She sighed and tears glistened in her eyes. “That communication was intercepted by the Rain. I learned shortly after of your mother’s death, and I have felt the guilt of it ever since.”

“That’s why you helped Clay?”

She nodded. “I didn’t want the same thing to happen to you, beautiful child. You deserve the life promised in the scriptures. I wanted Clay to find out any information he could about you. If what he learned wasn’t enough to send him back to you, I was willing to kick him all the way back to the US myself. Above everything else though, I hoped I would have a chance to apologize to you for my part in your mother’s death.”

“You don’t have to apologize. Even if your information confirmed her existence, which you can’t ever know for sure, you weren’t the one who made the choice to kill her.” As much as she shouldered the blame and wanted to atone, I couldn’t give her that. Although her admission made her hatred for the Rain make so much more sense.

She placed her palm on my cheek. Her gaze was still laden with guilt, and it was clear my words had fallen on deaf ears. “Thank you for saying that.”

She went back to the final preparation of the food, and I went back to my sentinel stance by the window. Out in the darkness, a figure loomed and for a moment, my heart leaped that Clay was back already, but as the man continued to move the robe he wore billowed around him, and I realized it was the same one I’d seen in the airport. The one that I’d seen far too often for it to be coincidental.

“No!” I uttered in shock. “How can he be here?”

There was a crash from the kitchen, and then Zarita was at my side by the window. “Who? Where?”

The man, ghost, thing—whatever it was—had disappeared again.

“Someone’s stalking me,” I murmured. “At first I thought he was Rain, but now I’m not so sure. It’s almost like he has a preternatural way of finding me.”

“I don’t see anyone there.” Zarita disappeared into another room, which I presumed was the bedroom. When she returned, she passed me a small knife with a silver blade, rosary beads, and a cross. “Whatever it is though, we’ll be ready.”

I nodded, even though I didn’t feel any of her enthusiasm. I watched the road carefully, scanning the visible length as often as I could. Time dragged on as I kept vigil looking for the strange man. My eyes detected movement at the end of the street, and I tensed.

When I realized it was Clay, I released the breath I’d been holding so tightly that it burned within my lungs. With his hands buried deep into the pockets of his jeans, he paced toward the house. I worried about him being out alone with the man there, but there was little I could do to warn him. At least not without giving him away. Recalling that he had his gun with him, I breathed a little easier, but not enough to turn away from the window.

I thanked our lucky stars that Clay was so close. With him at my side, I could face anything, and at least that way it would be three against one if the man who’d been trailing me returned. The chair behind me scraped along the floor, dragging heavily across the wooden floorboards, reminding me of Zarita’s presence. I could feel her breath on my neck and figured she was watching Clay’s return as well. A crash from the kitchen drew my attention and I turned, discovering that I was alone, and Zarita was in the kitchen cleaning up the mess she’d made when I’d exclaimed at the sight of the man.

The chair scraped along the floor again, coming to a stop almost directly in front of me. A warm breath rushed over my neck once more.

“Who’s there!” I shouted, trying to force the terror out of my voice.

Zarita turned around just as a male’s laugh filled the air. Appearing out of thin air just a few feet away from me was the man that I’d seen so many times before. He wore a hood, pulled low and casting a shadow over his face, so I still couldn’t make out any features, despite how close he was. I gripped the knife tightly in my fist, poised to defend myself if he tried to attack.

All I saw was everything that I already knew—black robes, tall—because the sight of him made me disorientated. It was like trying to concentrate on something I could only see in the corner of my eye. Nausea twisted my stomach. The more I tried to focus on him, the stronger the sickness I experienced grew. My heartbeat echoed in my ears, and my head began to pound along in time with it.

The heat my fingers forced into the silver hilt of the small knife melted it in my grip until it was impossible to hold it any longer. I dropped the heated and warped weapon and was left defenseless. I pressed the heel of my hand against one of my eyes to try to calm the beating pain in my head. My other arm clutched at my stomach, trying to hold all my insides inside. The more I stared at the intruder, the more disorientated I felt, but I was unable to look away either. I was trapped. In reality, only a few seconds had passed although I’d been locked in place for an age.

Zarita ran from the kitchen with her blade held strong in her fist. She screamed fiercely as she raced at our attacker. The keys rattled in the door, indicating Clay was home.

“Clay! Quick!” I shouted around the bile in my throat. I fell to my knees as the nausea and throbbing grew in intensity until it was impossible to stand.

Clay’s feet thumped against the stairs as he took them two at a time, but it was too late. Everything slowed down as the man turned to face Zarita’s attack, sliding a long blade from his jacket sleeve and driving it deep into her stomach in one fluid motion.

“No!” I screamed as Zarita dropped the knife in her hand to clutch at the one now in her abdomen. She fell to her knees in front of me, and the man disappeared again.

All thoughts of our attacker slipped away as I watched Zarita fall to the side. I reached for her, trying to stem the flow of blood, but there was too much. The wound was too deep and wide. He hadn’t just stabbed her; he’d gashed and sliced in the same movement. I choked down tears and vomit as I pressed my hands against the laceration through her stomach. My fingers grew sticky with her blood and a high-pitched wail rushed past my lips.

I screamed her name as I watched the light in her eyes fade until they were lifeless and glossy, staring out into empty space. Knowing that it was hopeless, I drew my wet hands onto my lap and kneeled beside her fallen figure. Sobs wracked my chest, and my breathing slowed, coming in huge shuddering gasps that for all their weight didn’t provide nearly enough air.

“Evie! What happened?” Clay asked. “Are you okay?”

I looked up at him in surprise. I’d nearly forgotten there was a world outside of the gore of Zarita’s passing. The image of his face swum though my tear-soaked eyes, and I tried to form the words to tell him what had happened. Whenever I blinked, he blurred again.

“She’s dead,” I managed to force out in a noiseless whisper.

He fell to his knees beside me and wrapped his arms around my shoulders, guiding my face away from the sight of Zarita’s lifeless body and against his chest. His gentle but urgent embrace caused the sobbing to intensify.

“What happened?” he asked again after allowing my sobs to claim me for a moment.

“The man,” I said before my voice died from the strain of my tears. “The man from the airport. He was here.”

Clay’s embrace was stiff as a board. “Tell me exactly what happened.”

I ran through everything that had occurred from the moment I’d seen the man on the street, including the sensation of nausea that rose within me as I’d looked at him.

“Shit,” Clay exclaimed. “This isn’t good, Evie. Eth thinks . . . I think you have a shadow.”

I fought my way out of his embrace. He was talking nonsense while his friend’s corpse laid in front us. I curled over onto myself, resting my forehead on the ground just inches from Zarita’s rapidly cooling body. “What the hell are you talking about? A shadow? Everyone’s got a fucking shadow, Clay.”

“We need to go,” Clay said, trying to draw me up from the floor. “If it’s a shadow person, he could be anywhere. He could be watching right now.”

“We can’t leave her like this,” I cried as I snapped up into a seated position. “She helped you! She helped both of us! You can’t leave her this way!”

He caressed my face softly with his hands. “We can’t stay. The neighbors will have heard the screaming. For all we know the police are already right around the corner. Now think, what did you touch?”

Even though I didn’t want to listen to him, I knew he was right. The part of me that had absorbed Dad’s teachings and a hundred life lessons since his death was poised for escape—if only I could find the urgency to follow through with it. I pointed to the knife I’d dropped.

“Go wash up,” he ordered.

I couldn’t move.

“Quickly, Evie. Please?”

Numb down to my core, I dragged myself to my feet and headed to the bathroom. Catching a glimpse at myself in the mirror, I hated what I found. The singlet I wore was smeared with the deep maroon of innocent blood. Strands of my hair were clumped together with the thick fluid. Trying to disregard the fact that the stains belonged to someone I’d been having a conversation with less than twenty minutes earlier, I washed away all the traces I could.

Without warning, the vision of the man forcing the knife through Zarita’s skin invaded my mind, and I hurled into the sink. My stomach coiled around itself, and I stood there dry heaving until Clay came into the room and guided me away. His gentle but firm hold led me through the apartment and straight to the stairs.

It was only when Clay climbed back into the car after finishing off his cleanup of the apartment that I spoke again. Facing Clay, I was curled into a ball on the passenger seat with my knees drawn up into my chest. “What did you mean when you said I’ve got a shadow?”

Clay stared straight ahead as he started the car, no doubt trying, like me, to force the last trip we’d had in it out of his mind. “They’re a creature that very little is known about. They’re like ghosts, but not quite. They can be relentless in their stalking, and from everything we know, they’re malignant. They will chase their selected target for years until either driving them mad or killing them.”

“Why didn’t it kill me then?” I asked as the memory of Zarita’s murder rushed through me again. “It was right there, but it took her instead. Why?”

“I . . . I don’t know.”

“How does it keep finding me, Clay?” I cried.

He scrubbed his face. “God, I don’t know, Evie. But I promise, I won’t let it find you again. As soon as I can, I’ll let Eth know about it so he can start some research.”

We drove in silence for a few moments.

“I’m sorry about Zarita.” I had barely met her and although we could’ve been friends, it was guilt I felt over her death rather than anything else. For Clay though, it had to be worse. He had to be hurting. “I know she meant a lot to you.”

He nodded curtly. “She knew the risks though,” he said, as if reminding himself.

“She thought she was the reason my mother died.”

“What?” he asked, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye.

“She told me while you were gone.”

“She never told me that.”

We fell silent again, each of us lost in our own thoughts while Clay put miles between us and the scene of her death.

“Clay?”

“Yeah?”

“How did you find her? You said you’d got her name from the Rain, but it wasn’t was it?”

He squeezed his eyes shut for a brief second. When he opened them again, his entire focus was set hard on the road in front of us. He raked his hands through his hair before chewing the inside of his cheek. Then he sighed.

“It was from the Rain.” He turned his face away from me, blocking his thoughts from me.

“What aren’t you telling me?” I asked, certain there was more Clay was leaving unsaid.

He glanced sideways at me, reaching across the small car for my hand. “After leaving Charlotte with my family, I looked up your mother on the Rain database.”

I sat up straighter. “They keep a database?”

Had they kept records of years—decades and possibly even centuries—of murder?

The edges of his lips turned down into a frown. “Whenever an operative encounters something new, they log it in the database. Phoenixes are very rare.”

“So everyone keeps telling me,” I snapped.

“I’m sorry. This is why I didn’t tell you. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“She was there though, wasn’t she?” I pushed. “Mom, I mean. They murdered her and then cataloged her like some goddamned museum piece?”

Clay nodded. “I found her, and it had information about your father there and a failed attempt to kidnap you when you were small.” Tears welled in his eyes.

I sobbed. I’d known about the attack, it was the reason Dad had gone deep into hiding to save my life, before that we’d been an almost normal single-parent family. Regardless of knowing that it had happened, the fact that someone had willingly planned an attack on a toddler made my stomach turn. That Clay had mentioned kidnap and not kill sent the warmth of panic racing through me again.

“Linked to the file was a contact—a linguistics and mythology expert. The file didn’t give a reason for the link, but it listed Zarita’s name. When I—” He sighed before drawing in another deep breath. “After I’d decided to find out more about you, it made sense to follow the lead. I didn’t know how she was connected to your parents at the time, I swear, but I did hope that she could help with the legends of the sunbird.”

“Will this trail of death ever end?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” he answered in a solemn whisper.