Wolf In Shadow Snippet 2: Chapter 1 Saying Goodbye

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The text is taken from the eARC of the American English Version.
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CHAPTER 1

SAYING GOODBYE

Saying goodbye is the defining moment between ending an old life

and starting anew. Without that terminal farewell, shadows and regrets

of the past hang around like a bunch of distant relatives who have

learned of your lottery win. They tended to haunt Rhian no matter

how far she ran so she wanted to say goodbye.

She had never moved into the flat properly, just kept a spare

washbag and a change of clothes there. So it would always be James’ flat

in her head, not their flat.

Somehow the door looked shabbier than she remembered, the

paint peeling from around the wooden panels. She turned her key in

the Yale lock noting the scratches where tired and drunken tenants

had marked the paint. One gouge looked new suggesting that James

himself must have caused it—James or her.

She pushed the door and walked in, dropping her heavy shoulder

bag to the floor. The tiny flat was exactly the same even though

everything was different. James had gone and the life of the flat had

departed with him. It had always been a warm place, a welcoming

place, but now it smelled cold and stale. It had not taken long for the

damp to get a grip. Like her life, she thought. The decay mirrored her

life.

The front door opened straight into a living room with a

kitchenette in the corner. She slipped her rucksack off and sat on the

arm of the old, stained sofa to catch her breath. An unwashed plate

encrusted with the dried remains of a meal was discarded carelessly on

the floor by a knocked-over coffee mug. She picked them up, putting

them on the side for washing. The mug had a picture of a superhero

on the side. James had been into comics. She had often scolded him

about his untidiness. How could she have wasted her time with him on

such trivia?

James’ computer was still where he always kept it, on a cheap selfassembly

office table against the wall. She used to sit just where she sat

now, watching while he worked. He was completely unaware of her

presence when he concentrated with that terrible male focus. Then

she felt that she saw into the real James and she liked what she

observed.

Rhian unzipped her coat, allowing the silver Celtic brooch hung

around her neck to swing free on its chain. The stylised wolf head on

the brooch glinted in the light from the window, catching her eye.

Worn letters picked out the word Morgana.

James had looked up the British goddess on the internet and read

off her list of attributes. To the English she was Morgan le Fay, Goddess

of fate and sister and sworn enemy to King Arthur. In the Welsh

tradition she was the goddess of death, the Moon, lakes and rivers.

James had been puzzled why the brooch was shaped like a wolf ’s head

when Morgana’s symbol was the raven, until he discovered she was the

queen of shape shifters.

Rhian could still hear James’ voice in the empty flat, could picture

him standing over her.

“Shapeshifters, you know, weres.” He growled and clawed his hand

at her. “Werewolves, Rhian. Haven’t you ever met a wolf?”

He had jumped on her theatrically and she had fallen over with a

shriek, his heavy body pinning her down.

“It’s getting late,” he said. “I had better walk you back to your bed-sit.”

“I’ve some things in my bag. I could stay here tonight,” she replied.

“It’s a small flat. I only have one bed.”

“I know,” Rhian said, raising her lips to his.

She smiled, recalling what a bad girl she had been, and regretting

not a moment. Then the numbness came down like the curtain falling

for the last time on a cancelled play and Rhian went back into robotic

mode. She couldn’t bear to feel, to let herself hurt.

She slipped into the bathroom, retrieving her washbag from under

the sink. The area was surprisingly spacious with room for a full-sized

bath. It had probably served a much bigger living area before the

building had been subdivided into the largest possible number of

flats.

The bedroom, in contrast, was minute. Nevertheless, the landlord

had squeezed in a single bed, side table, and wardrobe. Rhian opened

the wardrobe, removing the few things that she kept there. All James’

clothes were still hung on hangers or crammed into carrier bags,

waiting to be washed. She pulled a shirt out of a bag and lifted it to her

face, smelling his scent.

She almost broke down then but she held it together. She had

promised herself she would not cry. She froze her feelings until she felt

hollow. Inside her head was a vacuum, a cold emptiness like the center

of a bronze-cast statue.

Rhian put the garment down and was businesslike again. She

gathered up everything—her clothes, her washbag—what else was

there? She wanted to leave no sign of her presence in the flat. She

opened the drawer under the side table. Inside was a bad photograph

of a girl sitting on James’ knee. She remembered the picture being

taken in the passport booth at Victoria Station. They were waiting for

a train to the coast for a day trip. It rained the whole day and she had

a wonderful time. She put the photo in her pocket.

Rhian looked into the bedroom mirror. The face that looked back

at her was near identical to the girl in the photo. Both girls had the

same short-cut dark hair, the same petite bone structure but the eyes

were different. The girl in the mirror had eyes that were a thousand

years older.

She put the photo carefully in her coat pocket and turned away.

She was about to leave when a thought struck her, so she reopened the

drawer and pulled it completely out. Feeling under the lid, she found

an envelope taped out of sight. She slipped open the flap to reveal a

slim stack of ten- and twenty-pound notes. She placed the envelope in

her coat pocket next to the photo.

She put her rucksack back on, loaded her bag upon her shoulder

and placed her key firmly down on the computer table. She would not

be coming back, ever. The door closed with a click of the Yale lock

when she let herself out. She went down the stairs and out of the front

door onto the street. Rhian walked along the pavement for a few

meters then stopped.

“I wonder,” she said, “where I should go?”