The Legend of the Eight: The Hunted (Book 5)

6: In the Shadows

SIX: IN THE SHADOWS
FEBRUARY 10
PHOEBE DOMINGO

FINN WAS WAITING WITH A cigarette between his fingers when Phoebe met him in their usual spot at the edge of campus. He held it to his lips before inhaling sharply and then dropped it to the ground where he put it out with the toe of his boot.

"You know, every cigarette you smoke takes thirteen-point-eight minutes off your life," Phoebe said when she approached him, folding her arms over her chest to keep warm.

"Is that right?" asked Finn, smirking. "Well as it so happens, I'm already living on borrowed time. What's a few wasted minutes here and there?"

Phoebe pushed the slush around with her Nike sneaker. "Borrowed time? How do you figure?"

"We're Shadow Hunters, love," Finn proclaimed and normally he was more subtle about that kind of thing but he must have figured it was five in the morning and no one was awake to hear them. "A shortened life expectancy is just another perk of the job."

Phoebe stuffed her hands in her pockets and Finn chuckled quietly.

"So," he said, "What did you want to talk to me about? Finally ready to confess your undying love for me?"

Shaking her head, Phoebe rolled her eyes and then held up her left hand—on which she wore a thin gold wedding band.

"Still married," she reminded him though it was unlikely that he forgot.

He shrugged. "Thought it was worth a try."

"Anyway," she said, hoping to get to the real reason they were out in the cold so early that morning. "I was wondering if there were any Shadow Hunter tales about dreams? Like, weird dreams in a mirrored room with a reflection that looks like a reflection but doesn't act like one?"

Finn started to laugh. "Shit, love. Looks like you've found yourself in the midst of some Representational Magic."

"What?"

In all her research about Shadow Magic, Phoebe never read anything about Representational Magic. It sounded familiar but she couldn't figure out why.

"Representational Magic," Finn repeated. "It's an extension of Shadow Magic. It forces a wizard to solve some kind of riddle. Hey. You know who you should talk to because he could answer all of your questions? Your father. Call him."

Phoebe's eyes rolled into a glare. "If you want us to talk so badly, why don't you tell him to call me? Phones work both ways, you know."

"So you're just going to avoid talking to the man who avoided talking to you all your life in hopes that he'll stop avoiding you? Yeah. That sounds like a real plan for success."

Phoebe's glare didn't let up. "I didn't come here to be mocked."

"No. You came here to get answers. And Alessandro has them. So call him. And if you don't want to call him, we'll go see him. He's staying in an apartment on the other side of town for a bit. We're tracking a Thief that made it all the way here. And you and I, we could go. He's right here."

"Exactly," Phoebe said, fighting the urge to scream the word. "He's right here and he still doesn't want to see me. He knows where I am. He knows exactly where to find me and yet, he isn't here. Why should I try to see him when he clearly wants nothing to do with me?"

Finn looked down at the snow beneath his feet, dirtied with the ash of his cigarette but. He rubbed under his nose and then looked at Phoebe with sincerity in his violet eyes.