“Wraiths?” Layla croaked.
“Regular people who gave up their souls for immortality. My father accidentally let something bad into the world, and I took care of it a couple years back. Segue mostly now hunts and kills the remaining wraiths, though”—big sigh—“they seem to be reorganizing now, gaining momentum. I should warn you: Segue is not the safest place these days.”
The whole world wasn’t safe with those creatures on the prowl.
“And what is Khan?” How can he do all the things he can do? Why do I feel so strange when I’m with him?
Talia’s expression sobered. “Custo and the wraiths—and ghosts, for that matter—all have their origins in humanity, but Khan is of an altogether different race. Khan is fae.”
Fae. The word had a lot of meanings, but Talia had to be referring to an abbreviation of fairy. More fantasy stuff. Magic.
But, if what Talia said was true, the fae existed. And if Khan was fae, then Talia had to be, too. Just one look at those tippy-trippy eyes confirmed it.
“It’s simple, really.”
Layla felt a spark of joy-shock as Talia squeezed her hand for a moment. Layla’s heart hammered as Talia took a deep breath and blinked away tears herself. But what had caused the welling of emotion, Layla could not guess. She was near bursting with it, though.
Would it be too creepy if she, a stranger, was to touch Talia’s hair? Layla fisted her hands in her lap so they wouldn’t stray. Yes. Way too creepy.
“There are three worlds,” Talia began. “Mortality, Shadow, and the Hereafter. Mortality is where humanity lives—ghosts are the souls of people who don’t want to cross into the Afterlife; wraiths gave up their souls to live forever and have become monsters because of it; mortal angels, like Custo, are the souls of very good people who died and came back to dedicate themselves to humanity’s well-being.”
“So all this is about life and death?”
“Isn’t everything?”
Not necessarily. Didn’t have to be. Those stakes were way too high. Why couldn’t everything be about beaches or going to the movies or . . . love? Why did she have to be afraid?
“Where does Khan fit in?” Where do you? Where do I?
“Ah. Shadow is the realm in between here and the Hereafter. It’s the place of dreams and nightmares. It’s where all the stories are true.”
“His magic comes from there?” You must have some, too.
“Yes. In fact, Shadow is a much better word than magic, because it connotes all the borderland possibilities of inspiration and impulse that the twilight Shadowlands promise.”
“What about me?” Because these last four years—no, my entire life—has been a hell of questions and searching and life-ruining obsession. Why? Please, if you’re answering questions, answer that one. No one else will.
“You’ve been a bit of a traveler through the three worlds. You just don’t remember.” Talia’s expression strained as if to hold back strong feeling. She stood, stepped away a short space, wringing her slight hands. “But some of us have crossed paths with you before.”
Impossible.
There was no way.
Layla had crossed paths with none of them. She’d been alone from the day she was born. Her life had been a misery of foster home after foster home. A stint in some halfway house for troubled teens. A chance at a prep school scholarship. A ruined engagement because she didn’t know how to love. That was her life.
Now this . . . this . . . madness of a story. Shadow. Angels. Fae.
It took all her effort, but she tried to smother the bursting feeling. She couldn’t trust it. No. That feeling always ended in heartbreak. Every. Single. Time.
She couldn’t breathe. And what the hell was a traveler between the worlds?
Her heart labored for oxygen. Sounds cluttered her mind: a shush-shush-shush with no possible source and the kat-a-kat of the gate.
She was going crazy. Freakin’ certifiable. She gulped for air.
“Take it easy,” Talia said. “You’re okay. It’s a lot to take in at once.”
Layla’s eyes spilled over. She tried to inhale again, but she couldn’t get anything good because her chest was already full. The space that had been empty all her life was near bursting with a Yes! and It can’t be and . . .
I don’t believe any of this.
But when she looked into those faery eyes beside her . . .
“We’ve crossed paths,” Layla had to say. How terrifying to utter those words, but she couldn’t feel this way without some kind of . . . of what? A shared history? “I know we have.”
Talia nodded. A smile flickered. “Briefly.”
“And Khan is so familiar. He acts as if . . .” As if he knows me already. Maybe she shouldn’t confess the exhilaration that came when he was close. The coil of need that turned in her belly when she looked at him, regardless of his silly hair.