Page 31 of Soul of Shadow #1

By the end of the day, everyone had homecoming dates. It was as if Elias’s ask had set off a wildfire that burned through the school until everyone was paired up. Everyone, that is, but Lou.

“This is outrageous,” she said as they pulled into a parking lot in downtown Silver Shores. “I was the one who decided we should turn this whole thing into a game, and I’m the only one without a date.”

She was right. Even Abigail had asked someone—the girl she sat next to in her history class, Bex Winters. Lou and Charlie had known Bex their whole lives; she was shy, never raising her hand to answer questions in class or volunteering to read out loud.

“Bex is queer?” Lou had asked. “I never knew.”

“I wasn’t sure,” Abigail admitted. “But last weekend, I saw her post from the Chappell Roan concert in Detroit, so…” She shrugged. “Figured I’d shoot my shot.”

Now, Charlie put the Bronco into park and said to Lou, “That’s what you get for dragging us into this.”

“I dragged nothing .” Lou wagged a finger at Charlie as she unbuckled her seat belt. “You willingly agreed to this arrangement. And you have no right to complain; your date is the hottest guy in school.”

Charlie made a noncommittal noise at the back of her throat.

They were going dress shopping—an activity that Charlie had only begrudgingly agreed to, and only because she had nothing suitable in her closet.

The last time she’d gotten dressed up was probably for homecoming the year before.

Lou was the one who originally suggested it, but as they unloaded from the car and onto Main Street, her best friend looked like she would rather be anywhere else.

Charlie still wasn’t used to her new sight.

She wasn’t used to the vines that wound around the streetlamps, the whispers and scuttles she heard in nearby bushes, the splash in the town fountain as a bright-blue face with midnight hair emerged from the water.

Dripping wet, blue fingers curled over the rim of the fountain, beady eyes trained directly on the girls.

Before slamming the driver’s door shut, Charlie leaned down to where the v?tte sat beside the brake pedal. “Listen,” she whispered. “You’re staying here.”

The v?tte wiggled his beard in a way that made her think he was pouting.

“I’m serious. I can’t worry about the girls seeing me talking to you while we’re shopping. You have to entertain yourself here.”

He twitched his nose.

“Fine.” Sighing, Charlie dug into her back pocket and pulled out her phone. She clicked into the Netflix app and pulled up episode two of The Witcher . “Knock yourself out,” she said, setting it up against the footrest so the v?tte had a good view of the screen.

He squeaked gratefully and settled in to watch.

“Charlie?” Abigail called from across the street. “You coming? ”

Charlie popped up, slamming the door and plastering a smile on her face. “Be right there.”

Abigail was the only one who seemed genuinely excited to shop.

Out of the three of them, she had by far the best style, and this boutique was one of the only shops in the area that had a selection she genuinely approved of.

When they reached the front door, she pushed it open with a flourish.

Just as Charlie was about to follow her inside, something bright and silvery flashed in her periphery.

When she turned, she spotted two enormous, shirtless men rounding the corner.

They both had long hair and braided beards, topped off with silver helmets.

They wore padded armor that covered only part of their bare chests, including huge shoulder pads inlaid with fur—a bizarre choice for the September heat.

Giant steel belts clung to their waists, laden with swords and axes of all varieties.

They looked, in the middle of small-town Michigan, completely absurd.

Charlie glanced around. No one else paid them any notice, which only confirmed her theory: no one else could see them.

“I’ll be right back,” she said to no one in particular, taking off down the block.

A short jog brought her to stand before the two Viking-esque warriors, though neither paid her any attention. They were speaking to each other in low voices, one brandishing an axe at his side as if it were no more dangerous than a handbag.

Charlie cleared her throat. “Uh…” She shifted from foot to foot. “Sirs?”

The Vikings turned slowly to face her. They exchanged glances, as if confused.

“Are you…” said the one on the right, who had ratty blond hair pulled back into a ponytail. His voice was lightly accented, as if English were not his first language but he had been speaking it for a long time. “Are you talking to us?”

“I sure am,” said Charlie, sounding more confident than she felt.

The one on the left, who had black hair and a far thicker beard, said, “You can… see us?”

“I can.” Charlie looked over at an older couple crossing the street. “I’m assuming most people can’t?”

“No one can,” said the blond Viking, puffing out his chest. “We are warriors of Asgard, fallen in battle and taken by the Valkyries to live forever in the great halls of Valhalla.”

Charlie squinted. “Then, what are you doing here?”

“Er.” The blond Viking glanced at the dark-haired one, who rolled his eyes. “We were sort of… kicked out.”

“Kicked out?”

“It was an honest mistake,” said the blond one, holding up two huge, calloused hands in defense. “We both had a bit too much ale that night, and—”

“ You had too much ale that night.” The dark-haired one crossed his arms. “I don’t imbibe in excess the way you do.”

“Regardless,” said the blond, “Vidar and I got into a little tiff—”

“A little tiff?” asked the dark-haired one, whose name was presumably Vidar. “You flipped a table onto my head, Bjorn!”

“It’s no worse than any of the usual bar fights in Valhalla,” insisted Bjorn. “Besides. The fight wasn’t what got us kicked out. What got us kicked out was what happened afterward, with the chalice.”

“You know we didn’t touch Odin’s chalice. We were set up. There were at least ten other men that night who—”

“Sorry,” Charlie said louder than she normally would have. “Not to cut in here, but I actually had a question for you. ”

“Oh?” Bjorn turned to face her. “Ask away, young maiden.”

This earned another eye roll from Vidar.

“What do you know about night mares?” she asked.

Both men widened their eyes. “The mare,” whispered Bjorn. “Humans turned to beasts. Agents of fear and chaos, not to be trifled with.”

“Why do you ask?” Vidar watched her closely. “Are you aware of a mare of night living in this town?”

“Do you need our services in slaying it?” added Bjorn, pulling out his sword and holding it up to the sky, as if posing for a photo.

“Put the sword away, Bjorn,” said Vidar.

“I don’t know of any mares in town,” Charlie said quickly.

Sure, she was suspicious of Elias, but she didn’t want to set two blood-hungry Vikings on him.

At least, not yet. “But I’ve heard… stories.

I know they give bad dreams to humans and thrive on fear.

What I don’t know is… how dangerous are they?

I mean, they live partly in human form, right?

So, they must experience normal human emotions. Empathy, kindness. Stuff like that.”

Bjorn and Vidar both shook their heads violently.

“Whenever a new mare of night appears on Asgard, they leave a trail of bodies in their wake,” said Vidar.

“In Valhalla, there were whispers of a mare wreaking havoc on your country’s middle-west region.

Stealing and murdering, leaving gruesome scenes in his wake.

The rumors said he was out for revenge, but for what, no one knows. ”

Charlie shivered. Was he talking about Elias? She couldn’t help but hope that he wasn’t.

“I took out a few mares in my day,” said Bjorn. “That’s what got me into Valhalla in the first place. I died while facing a particularly nasty one. ”

“Oh, really?” Vidar turned back to Bjorn. “Is that so? Because last week, you said you fell at sea, fighting the Kraken.”

“I never said that,” said Bjorn, appalled. “I said I almost died doing that. Our voyage was set on a course to intercept the beast, but I managed to sneak off at the last minute. The other men…”

But Charlie didn’t stick around to hear the rest. As the Vikings were busy arguing, she inched slowly backward, then turned and ran back to the dress shop.

Inside, she spotted Abigail and Lou browsing the racks closest to the windows. They waved her over.

“Did you have a good conversation with the stop sign?” Lou asked.

Charlie blinked. “The what?”

“The stop sign.” Lou leaned over and pointed out the window, down the street toward where Bjorn and Vidar still stood arguing on the corner—right under a stop sign.

“It looked like you were talking to it.” She looked back at Charlie, raising her eyebrows.

“Has finally getting a boyfriend caused you to hallucinate?”

Charlie nearly let out a crazed laugh. You have no idea, Lou.

“Oh, no,” she said, finding a lie as easily as she had with her mom the night before. “I was on the phone with Elias. On speaker.”

“I didn’t see you holding your phone,” said Abigail.

Charlie just shrugged. When it came to lying, less was always more.

Lou and Abigail exchanged doubtful looks but let it go.

“Whatever.” Lou went back to browsing through the dresses. “I didn’t bring any money. Can one of you spot me?”