Callie gasped, and two silver blades whispered out from between the knuckles of both hands, leaving her with four forearm length silver claws.

Tory snarled, her eyes suddenly flashing green.

Like a badass, I blinked.

We stood in a world of shifting black fog about as high as our knees. Other than our own breathing, I heard no sounds, not even the wind that had to be billowing the fog. I also couldn’t smell anything. The black fog stretched as far as the eye could see, almost like we were standing on a black cloud. Everything above the fog was dark gray. No hills, no dips, just flat nothingness. There was no apparent source of light – nothing above us and nothing on the horizon. But I could still see Tory and Callie, so there had to be light somewhere. I slowly turned in a circle in hopes of finding it. Or a door. Maybe a blinking sign.

And I suddenly realized we weren’t alone.

Two tall figures in hooded black robes faced the other direction a dozen paces away. As one, their heads swiveled entirely backwards to stare at us. Their bodies didn’t move at all as they did this, reminding me of an owl’s ability to rotate their necks in almost a complete circle. Also, like owls, they cocked their heads in a sudden jerking motion like they had just spotted mice.

They also did this in complete silence. Not even a rustle of fabric from their robes.

They wore masks that resembled Calaveras – white skulls painted with elaborate designs of flowers, vines, or other geometric shapes, and often studded with gems, feathers, or anything else particularly colorful. They were also known as Candy Skulls.

Like those masks people wore during the Day of the Dead festival, although those were typically made of candy and given to children as gifts.

Or they were used as an offering to the dead – an afterlife snack.

Hence the name Candy Skulls.

I’d seen a few like them once before, and had hoped to never see them again. Nothing had happened – they had just watched me. But I hadn’t wanted to repeat the encounter. Something was… wrong about them. Obviously.

These two confirmed my suspicions.

Their bodies slowly rotated to face us without a sound, revealing translucent blades from their sleeves. Either their arms were glass swords, or the robes were long enough to cover their hands.

The Calaveras lunged at us without a sound and I forcefully yanked the girls back since they both looked about to attack the approaching wraiths. I tripped over something unseen behind me, dragging the two women down with me into the black fog. I sucked in a breath instinctively, not wanting to breathe in the black vapor. But the blackness instantly disappeared and I realized I was lying on a manicured lawn surrounded by ebony statues. The night sky above us glittered with stars. I heard a bird chirp in the distance and released the breath I’d been holding.

We were in Raego’s yard. Back from… wherever the hell we had just been.

Callie was panting. “What – the fuck – was that?”

Tory tugged me to my feet, warily eyeing a few of the statues as if they might hide a Candy Skull. I did the same before helping Callie to her feet.

“I have no idea. I’ve never seen a… place when Shadow Walking. I’ve always just appeared where I intended. I didn’t even know there was a place between!”

Callie glared at me, studying my face. “What aren’t you saying?”

I swallowed, and then let out a sigh. “I’ve seen those Candy Skulls before. Maybe not those exact two, but when I was fighting Castor Queen a few months ago, I saw them watching me. But that was near the Arch. Not in… whatever that place was.”

“Do you know what they are?” Tory asked me, finally letting out a breath.

I explained the little I knew about the Calaveras and the Day of the Dead festival. “But I didn’t find anything that said they were actually living… beings. Just the skulls.” I shrugged. Living or not, they were obviously creatures of some sort. “Did you sense anything?” I asked Tory, having a sudden thought. She was a Beast Master, able to control shifters at will.

Anything with a beastly nature.

She shivered, shaking her head. “I tried…” she said softly. “There was nothing inside their heads. Nothing. Not even anger when they attacked.”

Callie was shaking her head in disbelief. “Well, they sure weren’t friendly. I think it’s safe to say Shadow Walking is off the table until we figure out what they are.”

I nodded. “Agreed.”

“What about Gateways?” she asked, frowning thoughtfully. “Roland and I used one to get to the wedding from Kansas City. Think they’re still safe?”

I thought about it for a second and finally nodded. “I used one yesterday and it was fine. At least you can see where you’re going with a Gateway.” I scratched my chin thoughtfully. “I don’t think I’ve Shadow Walked since I saw those Candy Skulls in the first place. Months ago.”

Callie seemed to be recalling her own experiences, but finally shrugged. “I think it’s the same for me. I don’t remember the last time I Shadow Walked.” She met my eyes. “Maybe we should figure out exactly what Shadow Walking is.”

My face reddened. I’d first learned to Shadow Walk from the Justices – the wizard police – and hadn’t really considered any dangers. Masks… The Justices wore silver masks. Maybe wearing a mask kept you safe from the Calaveras. I realized they were both staring at me.

“Right.” I let out a breath, noticing a silhouette in one of the windows in the mansion above us. The curtain shifted and the silhouette disappeared. “We should probably go knock. We’ll figure out the other stuff later. Take a deep breath and put your game faces on. Feel the badass. Be the badass.” Tory rolled her eyes at my pep talk. “We’re not afraid of flower-masked creeps.”

We picked our way through the lawn, skirting around the various statues – some human and some not. It felt like a cemetery with us walking between headstones. Actually, that was pretty accurate, because each one of these statues had been a person once. Before they pissed off the black dragon, King Raego. The Obsidian Son.

We made it to the base of the steps at the front of the mansion and began to climb.

Two dragons I didn’t recognize opened the front door before we reached the top step. They were of Asian descent and wore crisp slacks and freshly-ironed dress shirts despite the late hour. Their suit jackets looked expensive and were perfectly tailored – not the typical folded collar I would find here in the States, but the Chinese style that looked almost like a very short, popped collar, or no collar at all. I’d heard a dozen different names for the style, but didn’t know the particulars of each variation since I hadn’t worn one before. Almost like a Kung Fu suit.

Their pupils were horizontal slits across their vibrantly blue irises – one slightly darker blue than the other – and they looked of similar genes, perhaps brothers. Blue dragons usually meant water or ice. Maybe lightning. They didn’t smile and they didn’t frown. They just held the doors.

I grunted as I walked past them, not bothering to be polite. Not if they weren’t going to at least say hello. I felt the energy around them change and I slowed, turning to face the one on my right. “Did you have something on your mind, dear?” I asked him.

His blue eyes darkened and his pupil contracted slightly, but I didn’t back down. Neither did he, but his pal at the other door audibly cleared his throat in warning. As if delaying to respond to his pal’s warning somehow proved to me how dangerous he was, he finally broke eye contact with me. If the snort he let escape his nose had been even a smidge more obvious, I would have thrown him from the landing into the garden of statues.

Maybe my satchel had pissed him off, although I hadn’t seen either of them look at it.

We entered the foyer of the sprawling mansion. The blue Asian dragons closed the doors behind us and waited, pointedly not looking at us. I spotted figures lurking just out of sight in the shadows of several halls, distant rooms, and upper balconies. The steady murmur and crackling of radios confirmed their presence. Raego wasn’t taking any chances of an attacker breaking in and harming his people. It also made me reconsider yelling at the scaly bastard.

“Wait here,” a bronze-skinned man with thick dark hair said in a clipped but courteous tone from the base of the stairs. He’d obviously been waiting for us. He wore slacks with a white dress shirt, and reminded me of an Egyptian man that used to work at my father’s company. Not the same guy, but they shared similar features – a wide nose and stubble from cheek to neck that obviously grew back ten seconds after he shaved. He turned and calmly climbed the steps. I patiently turned to assess the dragons I could see, taking stock of the various eye colors.

Each unique color signified a different type of dragon – red eyes meant fire, blue could mean ice or water, and I had even seen silver eyes that represented chrome. Gunnar hadn’t been too fond of that one. Silver and werewolves got along about as well as a tornado and a trailer park.

Their lineage also impacted how their dragon form would look. I idly wondered if the Asian dudes would look like Chinese dragons, complete with those long catfish-like whiskers. I almost asked, but then I spotted the handle of the dagger strapped to his chest, tucked under his coat.

Tory and Callie studied the house itself more than its occupants. Callie wasn’t very familiar with dragons, but I didn’t catch even the slightest indication of fear from her. She looked… bored. Well, bored with the people. But she did look interested in the artwork and décor.

Was that a psychological ploy to lower the guards’ suspicion or did she genuinely like the décor? One never knew with Callie. It was fun to watch her at work, but even more fun to watch her victims when they realized they’d been mind-fucked.

I didn’t like the fact that I hadn’t recognized a single dragon yet. The number of armed guards in the shadows wasn’t helping my mood either. Maybe I was just being paranoid. Perhaps these new dragons just had horrible teeth. And overcompensated by standing in the dark with guns.

The same Egyptian-looking dragon reappeared at the top of the stairs, dipping his head slightly. “The Obsidian Son will see you, now. If you will follow me.” Had his gaze lingered on Tory? Raego knew she was a Beast Master – that she could shut down every dragon in the mansion with a single thought. He had to have warned all these new faces.

Was that why everyone was being so unfriendly? In fear of the tiny Beast Master beside me?

Maybe this guy just recognized Tory as the Reds’ adopted mom.

Whatever the reason, they were justified in keeping an eye on Tory.

I just needed to find a way to use it to my advantage.