If her roommates asked where she had been, she would just say she’d spent the night at
Darlington’s. Family emergency. The excuse had long since worn thin, but there would be
fewer late nights and unexplained absences from now on. She’d done right by Tara. Lance
would be punished and Alex’s conscience was off the hook, for this at least. Tonight she’d
nurse a beer while her roommate got shitfaced on peppermint schnapps via ice luge at Omega Meltdown, and tomorrow she’d spend all day catching up on her reading.
She had the driver drop her in front of the fancy mini-mart on Elm. It wasn’t until she
was already inside the store that she realized she was still wearing Darlington’s hat. She
slid it off her head, then jammed it back on. It was cold. She didn’t need to be sentimental
about a hat.
Alex filled her basket with Chex Mix, Twizzlers, sour gummy worms. She shouldn’t be
spending so much money, but she craved the comfort of junk food. She reached into the
drinks case, rooting back for a chocolate milk with a better expiration date, and felt something brush her hand—fingertips caressing her knuckles.
Alex yanked her arm back, cradling her hand to her chest as if it had been burned, and
slammed the case door closed with a rattle, heart pounding. She stepped back from the case, waiting for something to come crashing through, but nothing happened. She looked
around, embarrassed.
A guy sporting little round glasses and a navy Yale sweatshirt glanced at her. She bent
to pick up her shopping basket, using the chance to shut her eyes and take a deep breath.
Imagination. Sleep deprivation. Just general jumpiness. Hell, maybe even a rat. But she’d
pop in at the Hutch. It was right across the street. She could slip behind the wards to gather her thoughts in a Gray-less environment.
She grabbed her basket and stood. The guy with the little glasses had come up next to
her and was standing far too close. She couldn’t see his eyes, just the light reflecting off
the lenses. He smiled and something moved at the corner of his mouth. Alex realized it was the waving black feeler of an insect. A beetle crawled from the pocket of his cheek as
if he’d been keeping it there like chewing tobacco. It dropped from his lips. Alex leapt back, stifling a scream.
Too slow. The thing in the blue sweatshirt seized the back of her neck and slammed her head into the door of the refrigerator case. The glass shattered. Alex felt the shards slice
into her skin, warm blood trickling down her cheeks. He yanked her back, threw her to the
ground. You can’t touch me. It isn’t allowed. Still, after all these years and all these horrors, that stupid, childish response.
She staggered away. The woman behind the register was shouting, her husband
emerging from the back room with wide eyes. The man in glasses advanced. Not a man. A
Gray. But what had drawn him and helped him cross over? And why didn’t he seem like
any Gray she’d ever seen? His skin no longer looked human. It had a sheer, glasslike quality through which she could see his veins and the shadows of his bones. He stank of
the Veil.
Alex dug in her pockets, but she hadn’t replenished her supplies of graveyard dirt. She
almost always had some on her—just in case.
“Take courage!” she cried. “No one is immortal!” The death words she’d repeated to herself every day since Darlington had taught them to her.
But the thing showed no sign of distress or distraction.
The shop owners were yelling; one of them had a phone in his hand. Yes, call the police. But they were screaming at her, not at him. They couldn’t see him. All they saw was a girl smashing their drinks case and tearing up their store.
Alex launched to her feet. She had to get to the Hutch. She slammed through the door
and out onto the sidewalk.
“Hey!” cried a girl with a green coat as Alex smacked into her. The store owner followed, bellowing for someone to stop her.
Alex glanced back. The thing with glasses glided around the owner and then seemed to
leap over the crowd. His hand latched on to Alex’s throat. She stumbled off the lip of the curb, into the street. Horns blared. She heard the screech of tires. She couldn’t breathe.