Shadow Kissed 03 - Shadowman

that.”
    Layla remembered what Marcie had said. “Ghosts can’t act on the world.”
    â€œCorrect.”
    â€œThen what?” She knew of wraiths and now angels, both of whom she’d seen with her bare eyes.
    â€œYou, more than anyone, should know. You brought him here.” Dr. James crossed himself and took a backward step toward the door.
    â€œKhan? Fae can be invisible?” If it was he, there was no need to bolt. Sure, Khan was intimidating, especially with his shows of magic, but as a person, he wasn’t that bad.
    The light in the room darkened so that not even the fire cast a glow. Okay, that was eerie.
    â€œThe fae don’t need to be invisible. They exist in Shadow, which is everywhere,” Dr. James murmured, then louder, to the room, “My apologies. I meant no offense.”
    â€œKhan, knock it off and come out.” Way to scare away a great potential source of information.
    â€œNo.” The sharpness of Dr. James’s tone brought her head about. “No,” he repeated. “I don’t want to see him.” He took another step back and gave a slight, but respectful nod toward the room. “I’m not ready.”
    â€œBut . . . ?” Now Layla was completely confused.
    â€œCall me when you’ve finished with those.” His gaze flicked to the books in her hand, and then he left, footsteps hurrying down the hall.
    Layla was alone. She waited a beat, looking into the murk of the room. “Okay, he’s gone. Come out. I have a lot of questions for you.”
    After everything Talia had told her last night, Layla had decided to start from scratch. She needed a deeper understanding of the underlying processes at work within the framework of the three worlds, and how the wraiths fit into the scheme. And Khan still had some explaining to do about the gate.
    He didn’t show.
    â€œKhan?”
    The chair, of its own accord, returned to the table, but slightly pulled out, for her to sit.
    â€œOkay, fine.” She’d just ignore him then. Eventually Talia would be down, and she was far more forthcoming with answers than anyone else had been. Working with her would be a pleasure. Besides, Layla had no patience for games, especially as tired as she was. In fact, with all this paranormal business, she was shocked she got any sleep at all last night.
    â€œI am not strong enough for your world right now,” Khan said.
    Layla whirled back to the painting. Khan stood in the trees wrapped in his cloak, dark and pale. His appearance had the same brushstroke quality, the fine ridges of texture, that comprised the rest of the work. The painting, like his gilded mirror, was a window, a passage to another world. She understood that now. But when she put her hand to the canvas, all she felt was the surface slickness of the dried oil paint.
    â€œWill this do?” he asked.
    She’d seen Khan in his vampire pose before—yesterday, when she’d been attacked and knocked unconscious. She’d had a ridiculous princess dream. His look had been the same: solemn, so dark as to be mistaken for shadows, his eyes full of power and feeling.
    And come to think of it, he’d been in her nightmare last night, too.
    â€œYou were there,” she said. He’d been a presence when she was all alone. Because of him, for once, the dream hadn’t been as bad.
    He gave a rueful smile. “I’ve been many places.”
    He was dodging again. “How about in my dreams? If you’re not strong enough for my world, are you strong enough for that?”
    She held his gaze until he answered.
    The smile faded. “I should have been there to protect you.”
    So he had been there in her head. “You can read minds, too?”
    â€œNo.” He walked forward, shifting the motley daubs of color over the canvas as he moved, then crouched in the foreground nearer to the canvas barrier. This close she could see the brushstrokes on his skin, the fine lines that created his hair, and the swirls of paint that were his shadows. “That is for the angels. But I can sense what you feel—your loneliness, your isolation, even among people.”
    The soft rumble of his voice was getting to her, and the color smudges of his appearance gave him an old-world romantic cut, though he needed no help in that department. He belonged in those trees, and something about their rustling sway made her want to join him. It was a