She stayed by my side as we took our surveillance position on the eastern edge of what appeared to be a small village. Some of the people living here seemed familiar. I had seen them in The Shade before, though only in passing. Humans. Vampires. Even a couple of Maras from Calliope who’d moved to our realm after the destruction of Azazel. They’d built small houses here, but none in the trees. They’d stuck to the base, using wood and whatever stones they’d been able to extract from nearby. A fire burned in the middle, and someone was roasting skewers loaded with vegetables while the others brought out armfuls of wooden bowls and cutlery from their homes.
We’d stumbled upon dinnertime in Weirdo Central, that much was clear. But Astra was right, their presence here didn’t make sense. I understood the slight differences in wildlife and other minor anomalies we’d encountered, but if the fake Shade was supposed to mirror the original, it still didn’t explain this place. Something was off.
I looked at Thayen, and he motioned for us to move closer. We’d yet to hit the fifty-yard limit. Carefully, I took the first steps with Dafne right behind me. At the same time, Thayen, Astra and Soph made their advance, keeping around ten feet between us. We found good shelter under some large shrubs and watched the villager clones for a while.
“They’re so strange,” Dafne murmured so softly that I almost didn’t hear her.
“Hm?”
“They’re strange,” she repeated, and I nodded once.
“They don’t belong here.”
“Look at that,” Thayen hissed, pointing. I followed his direction and saw it. Someone had come to the village from the north side of the woods. Caleb. Well, Caleb’s clone. The others were moving in a slow and steady rhythm—setting the bowls on the ground around the fire, adding the cutlery and some napkins, turning the skewers over so the vegetables would roast evenly, pouring water from the well into thick glass jugs, and cutting slices of freshly baked bread onto bamboo platters. They were the most harmless of clones, and that was what Dafne had found strange.
Caleb’s double, on the other hand, seemed irritated by their presence. “Listen up. Come here. Make a line in front of the fire.”
The others hesitated at first, until he sighed and rolled his eyes, taking out a small computer tablet. He tapped on its screen, as if writing something.
“I don’t have all day,” he added.
The clones left what they were doing and walked over to him, forming a line beyond the campfire. They didn’t seem happy to see him, and that just made this whole scene all the more surreal.
“Okay. Ida?” Caleb’s clone said, and a young vampire woman raised a hand.
“Here.”
“Good. Missa?” he continued, ticking names off his tablet list.
“Here.”
“Laurel?”
“Here.”
Caleb’s clone went through all the names, pleased to discover at the end of the roll call that he’d crossed everyone’s name off. The doppelgangers didn’t say anything else. Instead, they watched him with a mixture of contempt and fear. I could almost feel their emotions. For mere copies, they were remarkably expressive. Their eyes said more than their words ever would, and I wondered once more how and why they existed.
“Good to see you’re all here,” Caleb’s double said, putting his tablet away. “New orders from HQ. You’re not to leave until further notice. This is your spot, assigned to you upon request. We have yet to determine what we will do with you, but for now… you’re allowed to exist.”
Exist? That was quite the word he’d chosen.
Missa didn’t seem happy with this decision. “It’s not right. Everyone else gets to move freely across The Shade.”
“Well, you and your friends here lost that privilege when you refused to do your part. Everyone else works for their right to free movement,” Caleb’s clone shot back with an acidic smirk. By the stars, I hated his guts. The real Caleb was an amazing man. A strong man with a moral code and the kindest smile. This guy… this guy was a painfully obvious fraud.
“So, what—we stay here until HQ says we’re allowed to move? Is that how this is going to work?” Ida asked, while one of the Maras moved away from the line and took the skewers off the fire, worried they might get burnt. He gingerly placed them on a large, polished chunk of redwood, where fruits had already been cut, ready to be served.
Caleb’s clone disliked the Mara’s actions, but he didn’t bother with a reprimand, focusing on Ida instead. “Did I stutter the first time around?”
“I’d love to crush his skull with my bare hands,” Dafne whispered.
“I can hold him while you do that,” I offered, and the shadow of a smile danced across her face. She was an unreadable enigma most of the time, but then there were these tiny snippets when Dafne allowed me to see beyond her icy façade. I enjoyed making her laugh or at least smile. We seemed to be getting closer to one another, but I wasn’t sure it was enough to warrant a move on my part. Dafne certainly wasn’t like the other girls I’d come across.
“That’s the decision from HQ,” Caleb’s clone added. “Take it or leave it.”
“And if we leave it?” Missa asked, raising an eyebrow as she crossed her arms. I couldn’t help but feel thankful for our naturally enhanced senses. Otherwise, I doubted we would’ve been able to see and hear with such level of detail.
“Then I’ll send Haldor with his hounds over to tear you all to shreds. But I figure you’ve learned something from Mona and Kiev’s rebellion last week. Surely you don’t want to end up like them,” Caleb’s clone replied. I understood the threat in his tone. It was meant to be obvious.
Dafne gave me a soft nudge. It made my heart skip a beat. “Holy hell,” she mumbled. “The clones are rebelling? Am I hearing that right?”
“I think so,” I breathed, trying to wrap my head around the concept. They’d seemed so in sync with one another before. Each of them determined to screw us over in one way or another. Yet here we were, struggling to make sense out of this encounter as Caleb’s double was dealing with a handful of disobedient clones. I’d thought this place was weird, but it had gone beyond that now.
“We’ll take it,” Ida said. “But with protest. We’re living, sentient beings. We’re not robots, Caleb.”
“No, you’re worthless. At least robots obey the commands they’re given,” he retorted with a sneer, then pointed at the campfire. “You’re lucky we even let you stay here. HQ wanted to have you all turned to food for the shadow hounds. I put in a good word for you.”
“That’s kind,” Ida muttered, and I could see her hands balled into fists. She was struggling to maintain her composure.
Dafne gripped my wrist. “They might be able to help.”
“How?” I asked, my eyes focused on the camp.
“If they rebelled, it means they’ve got a bone to pick with… management, I guess,” she whispered. “Think about it. They know everything that’s happening here. Who’s calling the shots. Who made them.”
I wanted to agree. In fact, a plan was beginning to form in my mind, though I was nowhere near the stage of something coherent. Dafne saw the potential in this clear strife between the clones. She had vision, and that only made her more enticing. It was damn near impossible to even think of getting close to her in the midst of this chaos, but I couldn’t help it. I wanted to peel away at the layers that made Dafne, to understand each dimension of her personality, and to marvel at what she could accomplish, given the right opportunities. Maybe I could start by getting to know her better. Maybe then I’d be able to get a better read of her expressions. The fear of her turning me down only proved that what I felt for her was all too real.