Shadowed

V. The Lackeys

Pedestrians stare as I fly past, determined to catch up to James and Angella before they turn into any of the thousands of alleyways and I lose them forever.

I can feel their eyes raking over me, taking in my ragged clothes, my gaunt, thin frame, the hostile, wary expression on my face. They are so quick to judge. They turn away, sneering, wrinkling their noses, deciding that they're so much better than me because they have money, and I clearly don't. Let them. I've got bigger things to hide.

"Hey!" I yell again, and this time James turns and spots me. His eyes widen, and he says something to Angella. He grabs her arm and they promptly disappear to the left into a passage between a shabby-looking hair salon and a laundromat.

"Shit," I mumble, attempting to speed up, but my lungs burn and I'm getting pretty winded. I've never been a particularly good runner, and my nicotine vice hasn't helped.

I dash across a street, not bothering to check for cars, and an offended horn sounds behind me, but I barely notice. All I'm focused on are these enigmas, the teens who showed up demanding to know where I was, knowing the name I detached myself from decades ago.

I skid to a stop, my breath coming in heavy gasps, and curse myself for losing them so easily. Lily Grace always used to tell me that I never thought anything through before I did it.

She's right. I raced after them like a crazy person, shouting and waving my arms. Of course they wouldn't want to talk to me. And now they're gone, just like that. The gap they went down leads straight to the larger maze of alleyways. There's about thirty different places they could have run to. I'll never be able to check them all. I'm only human. Rowan, you idiot.

I lean back against a building, catching my breath, reflecting on my own stupidity. I should know, by now, that spontaneity won't do any good. I should have made a plan first. Then maybe they wouldn't be getting farther from me every second, and with them, my shot at answers.

Wait. Someone is going to be looking for them. They wouldn't be running around in the open in a city full of people any longer than they had to. At least, that's what I would do if I were in their position. I'd bet they're somewhere close, hiding just out of sight.

Confident, I peer into the passage Angella and James fled down. No one's immediately visible, but suddenly, a frigid gust of wind whistles through. I spot a familiar lock of curly hair blown by the wind, coming from an alcove cut into the side of the building. It's a very good hiding spot, almost completely invisible. A smile spreads across my face.

My body shakes in the increasingly chilly air, and I rub my hands together for warmth. I'm going to plan this out. I won't be a fool this time. This might be the only chance I ever get at finding answers. Now that the door has been opened and I've glimpsed what's on the other side, I don't know how I could live with myself if I screwed it up.

Cautiously, I venture into the gap, making sure not to make too much noise. I don't want them to hear me and run away again. Evidently, they think of me as a threat. 

I've got to make sure they know I can be trusted before I start trying to get answers from them. Manipulation is a wicked trait, but a necessary one.

I kneel down and look into the cavelike cut-out, where James and Angella are pressed together against the back wall. James sees me and jolts, startled.

"Hey," I say carefully, my hands up by my head to show I don't mean any harm.

"What do you want?" he says, hostile, his eyes narrowing.

"No, no," I backtrack, shrinking a little. James is much bigger than me. The last thing I need is a fight.

"I want to help you," I say, trying to sound as earnest as possible.