Page 6 of Twisted Shadows
She’d been nervous but excited, happy in a way Reece hadn’t seen her in years.If Liam had someone he trusted to sublet his place,he’d asked,would you two still be waiting another six months to live together?
Oh no, she’d said.He’d move in tomorrow.
Which was how, one week later, Reece was letting himself into his new apartment. On the fourth floor of a high-rise.
Downtown.
The keys jingled in his unsteady hand as he unlocked the door.My new place is downtown, Reece had texted Grayson.Downtown where there are lots and lots of people.
Good, Grayson had texted back.You’re an empath, you need people around for all that empathizing.
Exceptno, itwasn’tgood. Reece had seen what corrupted empaths were capable of, and it was lurking inside him too. He was too dangerous for downtown.
But Jamey and Liam were nearly giddy. Reece had heard Liam lie loud and clear about the rent, giving a figure that was probably half of what the lease actually cost, because he wanted to move in with Jamey so much he was trying to secretly subsidize the rest so Reece could afford it. How could Reece change his mind and keep them apart?
He stepped fully into the studio, letting the door swing shut behind him, and surveyed his new place. A kitchen area was built in along the wall to the right, with shiny new appliances and two stools at a bar-height counter. There was a wide couch and good-sized TV, and a tall folding screen in the corner to block off a double bed. Big windows directly in front of him, a sliver of ocean visible between buildings but the view mostly of another high-rise, probably also filled with countless innocent people.
No, Reece could not actually afford to live here, in any sense of the word.
His arms were now unsteady too. He set his box down on the coffee table, hearing the crochet hooks clink together.Pick a hobby to be your anchor activity, his new therapist had said.It will help you manage your anxiety.
Reece hadn’t mentioned that the level of anxiety he was currently managing wasmight turn into an evil doppelgänger of yourself at any moment, but he’d dutifully picked up six different arts and crafts, just in case.
He walked over to the window, glancing down through rain-streaked glass. Despite the December cold, several people were walking on the sidewalk four stories down. A couple was laughing as they darted down the street, trying uselessly to dodge the rain before they climbed into an Escalade together. Three people in fancy coats stood in a tight knot, holding cups from the coffee shop in the bottom of the high-rise across the street and taking selfies, while a fourth man in a camouflage coat and black balaclava was leaning against the wall next to the coffee shop’s decorated windows, talking on the phone, outwardly relaxed but his inner mood betrayed by the tense set of his shoulders.
Reece touched his pocket, like a reflex, feeling the outline of his own phone. He’d been so close to calling off the whole move earlier that he’d found himself texting the Dead Man for reassurance.
But that’s why you’ve got my number, right? Grayson had said. There is nothing you can do that I can’t stop. You can never be more dangerous than me.
Reece leaned his shoulder against the window, eyes still on the street. The Escalade had pulled away from the curb, and the man in camouflage was looking up the side of the building, phone just visible against his ear as he gestured with a gloved hand at Reece’s building.
Grayson’s text had helped, the reminder that there was an empath hunter out there who could—and would—stop Reece if he turned. But as dangerous as Grayson professed to be, Reece was the one who could be walking among those people below like a wolf among sheep. Who could take complete control of someone else’s emotions with nothing more than his touch. Who could fill them with unwavering devotion to only Reece, fuel their strength with rage, then use his thralled army to tear the city apart—
The studio door opened behind him, his thoughts fading as Jamey’s and Liam’s voices filled the space.
“...can turn the dining room into your office.” Jamey had Reece’s duffel bag on her shoulder, a laptop bag on the other shoulder, and was carrying a stack of boxes higher than her head. Her ringlet curls were still perfectly in place and she wasn’t the slightest bit out of breath. “For when you work from home.”
“Our home.” Liam was the same height as Jamey but carrying half as many boxes, looking at her with poorly hidden awe.
Reece folded his arms. “Should you be carrying that much where other people can see you?”
“I’ll just say it’s clothes or something.” Jamey set the stack on the ground with a heavy thud that made it clear nothing as light as clothes was in the boxes.
“When you’re also carrying a duffel?” Reece pointed out.
“No one was around,” Jamey said. “Look, it’s nice to not have to hide for once.”
Reece could grudgingly accept that. She’d never told anyone about her unnatural strength and senses until Liam.
Liam set his boxes next to hers. “I think it’s hot.”
Not a lie. Reece made a gagging sound.
“Mature,” Jamey told him, as she picked up two of the boxes Liam had carried and headed over to the kitchen, her movements confident and familiar, because she’d been here far more than Reece. There was a clink as she set the boxes on the counter. “Have you been in the kitchen yet this morning, Reece?”
“It’s a studio,” Reece said. “So technically I’ve been in all of it just by walking through the door.”
Jamey raised her hands over the bar-height counter to show them a bright green plant in a cheerful pot. “But you haven’t seen your housewarming gifts?”
