Ava’s gaze darkened, the corners of her lips twitching downward at Jason’s tone. All the same, she gave a light shrug.
	“Who’d you steal it from?” She couldn’t help jibe, her frown giving way to a half smirk.
	Her expression returned to its neutral mask as she looked longingly after the cat. Part of her wanted to rescue Hanna from having to deal with her insufferable owner. The other just wanted to pet the cat.
	Noticing Lydia’s movement, Ava glanced to her friend. The colorful girl raised her eyebrows, shrugged, and leaned nonchalantly against the stack of boxes. The cardboard shifted behind her, pressing further against the metal wall, but held her weight. She gave Lydia a look that said she would stay as long as her friend needed, but she’d owe her. Big.
	The girl rolled her eyes in a show as Jason took the opportunity to ramble on—and on—about his bike. She half listened, her gaze straying to search for any sign of Hanna. A smile quirked her lips when she caught Lydia’s distracted, disinterested reactions to her crush’s explanations about his new toy.
	Though Ava caught Jason’s last question to Lydia, silence fell. Ava’s bemused gaze turned to her friend, both she and Jason waiting for her response.
	An airy laugh burst from Ava’s lips when Lydia realized the conversation depended on her now. The cluttered space partially absorbed the sound as Lydia answered. Ava felt half tempted to say he’d asked her to Prom. Instead, she thought better of it and stuck her thumbs in her jeans pockets, grinning.
	The expression wavered when Jason stole her nickname for Lydia. Her grayish-green eyes narrowed and a stiffness tugged at her expression, but she expertly kept the overall mask of indifference in place. Only an aura reader—or good friend—could have detected the change.
	Ava snorted at his offer for a ride, more disgust entwining in the sound than she had intended. She looked from Jason to Lydia, waiting for the affirmative she knew would come. Lydia didn’t disappoint; her eagerness and blushing cheeks brought sincerity back into Ava’s grin. The red-head rolled her eyes again.
	She cocked her head when Jason addressed her. She pushed from the boxes. A sly look in her eyes, she stepped to the shelving unit Jason had indicated. 
	“Me?” she feigned a fangirl’s shock. “Ride a motorcycle with the great Jason Bennett?” She reached up and grabbed one of the helmets. She turned back toward the two, seeming to weigh the helmet with interest.
	“I’d rather go dancing with werewolves on the eve of a full moon,” she answered, her voice light and cheery. She gave him a sarcastically friendly smile and tossed the helmet to Lydia. “If you want to go, Lids, I can wait here. The park’ll be there after a ride,” she offered, deliberately changing her nickname. Somehow, ‘Lidy’ felt soiled to her now. “See if I can’t undo Romeo’s” she jerked her head toward Jason, “damage to the mailbox.”
	She stepped toward the opening of the garage. She looked to the crooked mailbox in question and shook her head in mock pity for the poor thing.

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	Shadows pooled beneath the trees lining the residential street, each content as they shifted with the sun’s slow movements across the sky. Each a promise that night would come again. A reminder that even in the day, darkness would never relinquish its hold in its eternal battle against the light.
	A normal day. Normal shadows. Except for a single patch beneath a tree, its depths made darker by an extra, unnatural presence lurking just outside the physical world.
	Within these shallow outskirts of Nocreum—as the Shadow Realm’s inhabitants call it—the monochrome of black and grays colored Kyair’s world. The shadows cast by the Physical Realm created solid forms around him, a clarity unmatched in the other realm shining through the dark. Everything else ghosted past in ethereal wisps, oblivious to the world existing just beyond their reach. Each as untouchable to him as his precious shadows were to them. 
	Kyair’s dark, wispy form curled comfortably on the grass beneath the tree, his darkness blending in with the plant’s shadow. His black chest rose and fell with the steady breaths of slumber. Here, the summer’s last bit of lingering heat shied away, doing little to warm the comfortable cold of his true home. His form wavered and shifted, conforming to the gentle, imperceivable movements of the tree’s natural shadow.
	Even the shadows here knew to remain quiet. To keep to themselves, for hunters were not something to be trifled with. They were neutral, these shadows. But even in his slumber, Kyair could feel their respect for him. Heedless of the hunters, they would warn him. Protect him. Obey him.
	The darkness [i]always[/i] obeyed him.
	The whispered not-quite-words of the shadows brushed Kyair’s mind and incorporeal flesh, arousing him from slumber. His eyes snapped open, creating two white, glowing dots on the silhouette of his face. He rushed to sit up, his movements making the darkness in the physical realm’s shadow quiver. He tensed, readying to flee. As much as he hated the thought of running, his powers slept with the night, leaving him with only a shade of their full glory beneath the wretched daylight. 
	But there was no need. The not-quite-voices of the shadows spoke with no urgency. No warning. Merely a notification. Information on one of the hunters he sought the blood of. Or, rather, a weaker link.
	A girl. The Genning’s daughter. Their [i]only[/i] daughter. Even hunters had a soft spot for their female children.
	[i]Show me,[/i] he demanded, his order forming the same not-quite-there language. Kyair closed his eyes, snuffing out their light and letting himself see as the shadows saw. 
	Though he did not move from the tree, a garage undulated to life before his eyes. The vision of a shadow tucked away into a corner became his vision.
	The space was cluttered, working in sync with the daylight filtering in through the open garage door to create many other glorious shadows. The reflections of the darkest parts of humans and creations. Untouchable to those of the Physical Realm. Playthings to those of Nocreum.
	Even filtered through the darkness, he could make out the vibrancy of a girl’s tie-dye shirt. The Genning’s girl, as the shadows told him. He saw the shadow of her form beneath her feet, felt it shift as the girl moved.
	She was unprotected, unwarded against monsters of the true dark. He tested the shadows, searching for spells meant to keep monsters out. Unlike the girl, the house [i]was[/i] warded, but it was weak. Pathetic, compared to those on the gates. He could break through them, travel to the shadows he used to spy with. It would be so easy to pull the rest of the Genning’s spawn into the same space as her shadow. But the house’s wards could still set off an alarm.
	It was too early for that. Such detection now would mean failure.
	And she wasn’t alone. A boy. And another girl… At least, he thought it was another girl. The shadows refused to put her into focus, as if they could not quite get a grasp on her appearance.
	Kyair’s head cocked to the side, curiosity momentarily rising in his vengeance-filled heart.
	Odd. Very odd.
	[i]Show her to me,[/i] he commanded, but the girl’s form only wavered, growing that much more blurred.
	[i]“The park’ll be there after a ride.”[/i] The Genning girl’s voice met his ears, the sound distorted into a wispy, warbling echo.
	Kyair opened his eyes. The street he rested near met his gaze, the vision of the garage fading. If he wanted to see this mysterious girl, he would have to find her himself. After all, he knew where she was going.
	With a small bit of willpower, he forced the glow of his eyes to diminish until only his dark face remained.
	He crouched within the shadow of the tree, one hand on the soft, plush grass fed by the dark. His gaze stopped on a bicyclist as she rode by, the rider’s shadow reflecting more physical detail on the lawn than its sun-ghosted body.
	As soon as the cyclist had passed, leaving the street deserted, Kyair’s body bunched into a mass of shadow. It hovered above the ground like a black cloud, the dim lighting around the tree seeming to darken as if the light feared his form.
	He hated traveling in the day, but curiosity would not let him rest any longer.
	His dark mass twisted as it dashed into the gray, day-bleached portion of this sliver where Nocreum met the Physical Realm. The blackness of his body lightened in the path of the sun, sending an unpleasant tingle through him. He shuddered as he rushed to the next shadow down the street.
	In the Physical Realm coated in golden rays and saturated with the many colors of the world, an inexplicable shadow flitted across the lawn beside the sidewalk. It twisted and swirled with an intelligent elegance.
	Then it vanished into the shadow of another tree.