Shadow Kissed 03 - Shadowman

had with her, with Layla. Moira had already done her worst.
    He was here only to reclaim his strength so that he could hunt the creature that Layla had released. He knew the burden of letting loose something evil into the world. He would not have her bear it. And then he would deal with the gate.
    A moment here and already he was growing stronger. Shadow may have destroyed the illusion of his mortal body, but it also fed him. He could feel the contrary stuff snapping within, his power redoubling, his darkness deepening.
    â€œThe human form Kathleen made for you is lost.” Moira laughed. “What will Layla make of you? How will she see Death?”
    Only Kathleen had ever made him beautiful, and it had taken every iota of strength to hold that body in Layla’s presence. Without Kathleen, he was hollow. The next time he saw Layla, she would alter his appearance according to how she perceived Death. At least he’d seen her to safety first.
    â€œYou said it yourself: she will reject you, because it is human nature to do so. Life cannot make peace with death. Between the two is Shadow. Bide . . . you . . . here .”
    Moira drew her shimmering skirts aside. Beneath crawled the blinded, ravaged soul of a human woman. Her eyes were sunken, and her hair was balding, long strands still clutched in her own hands from when she’d pulled them from her scalp. She’d died, but because he’d abandoned his post, there was no one to see her safely across to the Hereafter, as was his duty.
    â€œLike so many others, she got lost in the trees,” Moira said. “The angels try, but they have not found this one yet. I keep her hidden; it’s so much fun to watch them search.” Moira clucked with her tongue, and the mortal looked around in terror. The woman’s spirit was dim, flickering with exhaustion. She was losing herself to whatever illusion Moira had trapped her in.
    Pity flared within Khan. “Set her free.”
    Moira’s eyes twinkled. “Set her free yourself.”
    â€œI cannot. I will not.”
    â€œIt is your nature, Stormcrow,” she said. He had as many names as he had faces. He preferred the one that Kathleen had chosen: Shadowman. Moira shook her head. “And nature always prevails.”
    Khan smiled to match the sharp flash of her gaze. There was no going back, not now, not ever. The world was different . . . and so was he. But Moira had been trapped in darkness age upon age. She couldn’t possibly understand, but he tried anyway. “ I want to change. ”
    Moira laughed. “But you are fae .”
    Fae, yes. But not the same as he had been. Kathleen had worked that miracle, and he would not, could not, give it up. To prove it, he lifted a hand and banished the illusion from the woman’s mind. He would not help her cross, but he would not leave her trapped, her soul to burn out, either. The kneeling woman froze, double blinked. Blinked again. Slowly her gaze lifted from the root-gripped earth to him.
    He’d known it would happen. Could almost sense the order of her mind asserting itself. The perfumed air of Twilight changed its humor, took on a familiar stench. Likewise, his shadows stirred as the woman reformed him to match her mental image. Shadow pulsed, then condensed into a settling roil. Then went still.
    And the woman screamed.
    The ultimate monster now stood before her: Him. Death. The Grim Reaper.
    Moira’s laughter rose. “You are as you have always been.”
    â€œPerhaps,” he conceded. What horror had his form taken? Would Layla see a monster as well? Would she scream? “But I don’t choose it.”
    The words had scarcely left his tongue when he sensed the earth shiver, a great trembling as if it sought to cast off something unclean. The devil.
    Khan sent fingers of darkness skimming along the veil. Mortal life sizzled on the other side with flashes of emotion, innumerable voices raised in conversation, layering into a great clamor of humanity. Everywhere soul-lights flickered, some approaching for a cross, though he would not be the one to shepherd them. The angels had better look sharp.
    There! A sticky suck of blood, the smear left behind by the devil.
    Khan gathered great wings of Shadow to him.
    Moira laughed, “Fly, Stormcrow!”
    And he did. He had a devil to catch.
    He crossed the boundary between the worlds, broke through the atmosphere, and found himself down the street