Chapter 2 Shadow

Seraphina

“Right on time, Shadow. You got what he asked for?” Ryn said as I climbed in through the window, hat pulled low, bag slung over my shoulder.

“You do know the door’s right there,” he added.

I tossed the bag onto the desk in front of him and snagged an apple. I rubbed it clean on my shirt and took a seat while he dug through the contents, examining the electronics I’d managed to—well, acquire.

That’s what I’m good at. Procuring items other people can’t. It’s how I’ve been making a living, more or less, for the last decade.

“I can’t believe you found one that works in this condition, Shadow,” Ryn said, unplugging the DVD player and setting it aside. “I might be able to get more for it.”

I tossed the apple core into the trash and dusted off my hands. “I want an extra two hundred for the phones and the painting.” I tugged my jacket into place and grabbed my empty backpack.

“No way. Most I could do is a hundred,” he said, unrolling the painting I’d lifted last night. It was ugly, like a lot of early-2000s art, but there were plenty of people who still liked that sort of thing.

“One-fifty.” I grabbed another apple and slipped it into my pocket. Any food I could steal was money I didn’t have to spend.

Ryn grumbled, and we stared each other down before he finally caved and turned to open his safe. I drifted back toward the window, watching the city churn below—people rushing, heads down, lives moving fast.

When I heard the safe click shut, I turned with my hand out. I watched him count the bills into my palm, then tipped my hat.

“Don’t stay away so long next time, yeah?” Ryn said, waving the painting as I climbed back out the window. “The others aren’t as good at finding gems like this.”

I just grinned and disappeared upward.

The other “runners,” as he liked to call us, were big, brutish men. It was no wonder they weren’t as good as I was.

No one was as good as I was.

That’s why I took the name Shadow.

I learned how to be invisible at a young age, and it’s served me well ever since.

I moved fast across the rooftops until the bus station came into view. Dropping into an alley, I heard what sounded like heavy wind.

Which made no sense—I’d just been on the roof, and there hadn’t been a breeze.

I looked up.

Dragons.

Holy shit. Real dragons.

I’d been told they existed. I’d seen pictures. But I’d never seen one in person. I dashed into the street, eyes tracking their flight: a massive bronze, two blues, a green, an orange, and a red, all soaring together.

Everyone around me had stopped to stare.

Dragons were the one shifter group that mostly kept to themselves. They controlled the largest territory—half the north and the entire western coast—but unless you traveled out there, you’d probably never see one.

I shook myself and adjusted my clothes as the bus rumbled up the street. I had a full day’s ride back to my place, and the sooner I was gone, the better.

I took a seat near the middle of the bus, hunkered down as the city slid past. No one ever sat next to me—no one wanted to.

It was fall, cool enough for the padding beneath my oversized hoodie and plaid jacket. My boots were held together with duct tape, my black ball cap pulled low. My backpack was tattered, my face smudged with grime.

The perfect disguise.

Invisible.

There was a supermarket beside the bus depot, and with thirty minutes to spare, I ducked inside to grab supplies for a few days. With the extra hundred-fifty on top of the five hundred we’d agreed on, I picked up extra blankets, a tarp, and some canned food.

I even bought a small container of milk and drank it before boarding.

I might’ve pocketed a few candy bars while the cashier wasn’t looking.

Some habits are hard to break.