The Scent of Shadows

“Shit, lady,” Wolfie finally said, scratching his half beard. “Why didn’t you just say so?”

“Yeah, man. We’re big Zodiac fans. Travis here has all the trading cards.”

His twin looked up at me. “I don’t have you, though.”

They all looked at me, wariness once again overtaking their features.

“I’m a new recruit. I didn’t even know I was superhuman until I underwent metamorphosis.”

Zane nodded thoughtfully. “Ah…a late harvest.”

“Ripe, though.”

I scowled down at Wolfie, who grinned.

“Show the lady where the Zodiac manuals are, Carl.” To me, Zane said, “I’m going to trust you are who you say you are, even though you obviously know nothing about your microuniverse and you have no identifying symbol.”

“Symbol?”

“Your glyph. You know, your Zodiac emblem? You’re not marked as an agent of Light or Shadow.”

Is that why they’d all been looking at my chest? I looked down, saw only impressive cleavage, then looked back up into a less-than-impressed face. I shrugged. “I’m working on it.”

Wolfie tugged on my hand. “C’mon.”

He led me deeper into the shop, passing Sebastian along the way. The boy peered up at me from the corner of his eye, extreme agitation marring his brow. Nothing, I thought, a little Thorazine couldn’t take care of.

“Boo,” I said, and he yelped and scurried away.

“Dang, this stuff itches,” Carl the wolf-boy said, yanking off his mustache as he walked.

I winced. “I thought you were taking hormone pills?”

“Nah.” He pulled off another tuft of his beard, studied it, then tossed it aside. “Model glue.”

I watched as he worked a roll of glue from his chin. “That’s disgusting.”

“Yeah, my mom thinks so too. You remind me a lot of her, actually.”

“Why? Is she a superhero too?”

“Nah.” He shook his head. “Compulsive liar.”

A quiet chuckle from behind met that remark. I turned to find Zane leaning against a nearby wall of manga titles.

“Right here.” Carl stopped before a wood-paneled cabinet in the farthest corner of the shop, unlocking it to reveal an ordinary carousel of comics. Scratching at his chin, he looked from the rack to me and back again. He was beginning to make me itch. “There are two series to choose from, the Shadow side of the Zodiac, and the Light.”

I looked and saw that the series was divided into vertical columns. The only difference between the two lines was the spines. The Shadow side had a black edging to each book, with titles like Enforcing the Eclipse, Midnight Portals, The Opaque Vein, and Afton’s Epitaph.

The Light series had a silver spine, and included the titles The Luminous Void, Shadow Slayer, Lambent Moonlight, and, my favorite, Zodiac: The Desert Ablaze.

“You probably want the Shadow side of the Zodiac since you’re such a bitch and all.”

“I do not want the Shadow side.” I glared at him. “Look at me. Do I look like… like…” I glanced at the lead title in the Shadow series row. “…like Simone: The Mourning Butcher?”

Carl scoffed. “Oh, sure, you’re all Britney Spears on the outside, with your blond hair and rack out to here…”

I narrowed my eyes.

“…but looks can’t hide your true identity. It’s the eyes that give you away. You’ve got dark eyes…not the color,” he hurried on, before I could interrupt, “but the soul behind them. The intent.”

I leaned down until my face was inches from his. “Listen, you little wookie, I’m not a villain, got it? I’ve just had a really bad month.”

I straightened and reached for the first Light title.

“Stop!” Carl grasped my arm.

“What?” I said, yanking away. This kid was beginning to freak me out.

“If you touch that book and you’re not really an agent of Light, then you’re going to get the biggest shock of your life, and I mean literally! I’ve seen it before, and it ain’t pretty.” He shook his finger at me, a frown marring his furry brow. “A girl like you can’t walk around with those sorts of skid marks, if you know what I mean.”

I ignored the innuendo and glanced behind me at Zane, who was leaning against a wall, leafing through Spider-Man, but listening closely enough that his mouth was twitching. He caught my look and nodded, concurring.

I turned back to the kid. “So, you’re saying a Shadow agent can’t read the Light comics, and vice versa?”

“That’s right, blondie. Keeps the sides from cross-pollinating.”

“So if I’m an agent of Light and I touch this,” I said, pointing to the lead Shadow title, “I get zapped?”

“You won’t,” he said with surety, crossing his arms over his puny chest.

I didn’t think so either, but my belief had nothing to do with what series I touched. I reached for the Shadow title, paused just to hear the weird kid’s breath quicken, then yanked the title from its rack. Nothing.

“I told you!” He pointed, jumping up and down. I grabbed another, then another, and every Shadow title down to the ground as Wolfie continued to holler manically beside me. “I told her she was evil! Did you see?”

“I saw,” Zane said mildly.

It meant nothing, I told myself, then said it aloud. “It doesn’t mean anything!”

Zane shrugged and turned back to his comic.

“It means you’re a freakin’ baddie, baby,” Wolfie said, jabbing his finger through the air. “A Shadow agent bent on death and destruction!”

I slid my eyes to the racks as he continued to jeer, then started grabbing more books. He stilled abruptly, mouth hanging open. I snatched the last Light title from the lower rungs of the rack, straightened, and grinned at him.

“You’re not supposed to be able to do that!” he stuttered. “Zane, what’s going on?”

“Guess you don’t know the Zodiac series as well as you thought,” I retorted, turning to smirk at Zane. “Comic books that zap you. Please.”

But Zane had gone chalk white, and the comic he’d been leafing through fell heedlessly to the floor. He stared at the pile of comics in my arms, then back up into my face.

“Light and Shadow,” he finally said, softly. “So you’re the one.”

I drew back, not entirely certain what he meant, but answered with what my gut told me was true. “Yeah,” I said. “I guess I am.”

Whatever that meant.

Dumping the pile of comics in the trunk of my car, I decided to walk the two blocks to the day spa despite my three-inch Christian Louboutin boots. Air was what I needed after the claustrophobic environ of Master Comics, though smog is what I got, toeing the sidewalk with cars zipping by me at forty-five miles an hour. I still couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched, but it didn’t take long to realize it probably had more to do with my outfit than any paranormal activity. I gamely ignored the whistles and honks aimed my way, even from the group of high school boys who raced by again in the opposite direction just to comment on specific body parts, and wondered how Olivia had handled this all those years.

Unfortunately, the catcalls from the teens had elicited the attention of a group of workers doing pavement repair just ahead of me. They paused to watch my approach.

“Shit,” I muttered under my breath. “Not today.”

One worker whistled as I waited for traffic to subside. I’d have to pass in the street to avoid the wet pavement. I ignored him, and spotted an opening in the wake of an enormous SUV. The same kids who’d already passed me twice. The passenger leaned out the window this time, making lewd motions with his fingers and tongue. This, in turn, seemed to embolden the three men on the pavement. Still ignoring them—a lone woman’s