Chapter 3: Night Visitor

Thorne yanked his arm away, his eyes flashing gold again—not just bits now, but his whole iris turning yellow for a split second.

"It's not the same," he said, his voice rough. "Mine is a protection symbol."

"Protection from what?" Elara asked.

A terrible screeching sound came from the hospital building. They both turned to see a figure crawling out of a second-floor window—moving like a spider, arms and legs bent at impossible angles. In the dim light, Elara could make out the face of the dead man, but wrong somehow—stretched and twisted, with eyes that glowed purple.

"From that," Thorne said sadly. He pushed Elara toward the passenger door. "Get in. Now."

Elara jumped into the car as the thing dropped from the window to the ground. It landed on all fours, then stood up, sniffing the air. Its head swiveled toward them, and its mouth opened in a terrible smile, showing rows of needle-sharp teeth.

It screamed—a high, sharp sound that made Elara cover her ears. Then it charged toward the car.

Thorne leaped into the driver's seat and started the engine. As they peeled away from the curb, the thing slammed into the side of the car, leaving a dent in the metal.

"What is that thing?" Elara yelled over the roar of the engine.

"I told you," Thorne said, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. "A Shadowwalker. And it's not the only one in this city."

As they sped through the empty streets, Elara looked at her hands. The blue glow was gone, but she could still feel a strange tingle beneath her skin.

"Who are you really?" she asked. "And what's happening to me?"

Thorne's hands tightened on the driving wheel. The gold flecks in his eyes glowed brighter in the darkness of the car.

"I'm someone who hunts monsters," he said eventually. "And you, Dr. Nightingale, are something we've been searching for a very long time."

In the rearview mirror, Elara could see the thing following them, running on all fours at an impossible speed. And behind it, shadows moved in the darkness—more creatures, joining the hunt.

Elara jerked awake, her heart racing. Something was wrong.

The clock on her nightstand showed 3:17 AM. Her flat was dark except for the blue glow of streetlights through her curtains. After escaping the monster at the hospital, Thorne had dropped her off, promising to return in the morning. The hurt guard had been taken to a different hospital.

Elara sat up slowly. What had woken her?

Then she heard it—a soft creak from her living room, like someone stepping on that one loose floorboard near the couch.

Someone was in her room.

Elara slid out of bed, her bare feet silent on the carpet. She grabbed her phone and the baseball bat she kept under her bed. Should she call the police? What if it was that thing from the hospital?

Another creak. Closer now.

Her bedroom door was closed but not locked. Elara gripped the bat tighter, backing away from the door.

The doorknob turned slowly.

Elara raised the bat, ready to swing.

The door opened, and a tall figure stood in the darkness.

"Don't scream," said a familiar deep voice. "It's me."

"Thorne?" Elara fumbled for the light switch.

Light filled the room. Detective Thorne Davidsyn stood in her doorway, still wearing his black coat despite the late hour. His face looked even more serious than before.

"What are you doing in my apartment?" Elara asked, lowering the bat but not putting it down. "How did you get in?"

"Your lock is terrible," Thorne said. "And I'm here because you're in danger."

"So you break in instead of knocking?" Elara looked at him. "That's against the law, Detective."

Thorne stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. "The law doesn't cover Shadowwalkers."

"You could have called!"

"I tried. You didn't answer." He nodded toward her phone. "Check it."

Elara looked at her phone. Seven missed calls from an unknown number.

"That was you?"

Thorne nodded. "After I dropped you off, I followed the Shadowwalker's trail. There's more than one of them now, and they're coming for you."

Elara sat on the edge of her bed, suddenly dizzy. "This is crazy. Monsters aren't real."

"Tell that to the guard who almost died tonight," Thorne said. "Or the thing that used to be a dead body on your table."

Elara rubbed her temples. "Why are they after me?"

"Because you woke one up. Because you're..." Thorne stopped, studying her face. "Different."

"Different how?"

Before he could answer, a crash came from outside. Thorne moved to the window in one quick motion, peeking through the curtains.

"They're here," he said, his voice tight. "We need to move. Pack a bag—only what you need for a few days."

"I'm not going anywhere until you explain what's happening!" Elara stood up, hands on her hips.

Thorne spun around, his eyes sparkling gold. "There's no time! Those things will tear you apart if they get in here."

As if to make his point, something slammed against her apartment door, making the whole wall shake.

Elara jumped. "What do they want from me?"

"Your energy," Thorne said, grabbing her backpack from the closet and throwing it to her. "Shadowwalkers feed on life energy, and the person who wakes them has the strongest energy they can sense."

Another crash, louder this time. The sound of splintering wood.

"They're breaking through the door," Thorne said. He pulled his strange silver gun from his coat. "Pack. Now."

Elara's hands shook as she stuffed clothes into her bag. "How do we stop them?"

"I can slow them down, but we need to get you somewhere safe first." Thorne moved to the bedroom door, listening. "There's a hidden place where they can't track you."

A terrible screeching sound came from the living room, like nails on a chalkboard but a hundred times worse.

"They're inside," Thorne whispered. "Stay behind me."