Shadow Soul (Narun Book 1) Read online

  “I am. Hungry, bored—”

  “Whingy.”

  Tony took a hold of my rucksack and yanked me back a step. “If I’m whingy, it’s only because you make me. Now can’t you do your thing later? You know Jill’s out of town and I’m miserable.”

  Tony reminded me of a dog begging for a stroll—minus the tail wagging. He was a little lost without his girlfriend.

  “So, I’m second best?”

  “Maybe third, but yeah.” He grinned as I bit my lower lip pensively. I did enjoy his company; we operated much on the same wavelength. Plus, like most guys, he rarely asked unnecessary questions, which suited my complex living situation with Anita’s family.

  “Fine,” I sighed, “where’d you wanna go?”

  Tony did his usual victory dance, seized me by the shoulders and spun me around. “I don’t know, but I’m driving.”

  “You know I don’t drive.”

  “And the world is safer for it.” He shot me a teasing smile.

  I climbed into Tony’s silver Ford Fiesta, with all honesty, feeling relieved. The meeting with the hypnotherapist could wait. Indefinitely.

  The smell of chips and bacon lingered thickly in the air as we walked inside a cosy-looking pub called the Woollen Wonka. Tony headed to the men’s room and I watched his broad back disappear behind a swinging door. I ordered drinks and picked a corner table by the window.

  Tony was my first friend in years if Anita didn’t count. Although I’d only known him for a few weeks, it felt like a lifetime. Since I hadn’t landed a job, Anita had hired me. I walked Aaron to and from school, cleaned the house, and ran errands. After a while, she’d urged me to take up a few modules at the local university to associate with people of my age. On my third day of lectures, Tony and I had been paired for group work and failed equally on knowing anything about the topic. Since then, we’d bumped into each other almost daily. When he introduced me to his girlfriend, Jill, we officially became mates.

  I was pulled from my thoughts as Tony joined me at the table.

  “I got you a beer,” I said, and Tony reached for the pint. I twirled a straw in my drink as Tony speed-read the menu and went to order.

  I jolted as the phone in my pocket vibrated—I wasn’t quite used to the thing yet—and dug it out to read the message.

  Anita: Hope everything goes well at the therapist. Thinking of you! x

  I pinched the bridge of my nose, stifling the tremors of guilt in my gut. She was still trying to help me “figure out my past” even though there hadn’t been any progress. And there wouldn’t be.

  I replied with a reason why I couldn’t attend the session she’d arranged for me—again. Even as the text sent, I knew Anita would be suspicious. My excuses were in the same boat as the dog that ate the homework.

  I sucked in a quick breath of the greasy air, itching to throw something that smashed. Preferably a chair through a window. Or my head.

  “Bad news?” Tony snuck up on me.

  I put the phone away and smoothed out the frown. “No, no. Just business with Anita.”

  “Your landlady?” he asked, and I nodded.

  The less Tony knew about Anita, the better. Amnesia had proven a tricky lie, and when starting university, I’d decided not to venture down that path. In the end, I had no intention of letting either party meet.

  *

  My abs were getting a free workout from all the laughing. Tony and I were now accompanied by a few of his friends who happened to stop at the pub.

  Matthew, a bona fide survival expert, was the most laid-back person I’d ever met. He worked as a park warden and his job description entailed enjoying the fresh air and collecting kids’ wind-swept balls from the duck pond. Tony’s other friends, Jake and Stan, were Business students. Both sported the typical student look: chinos, shirts with rolled up sleeves and man-bags boasting Hollister and Calvin Klein logos, respectively. Student loans going to good use, no doubt.

  “You want another drink, Milla? I’m heading over.” Jake was half up, pointing a thumb towards the bar. Although impressed that we were already on a nickname basis, I declined the offer.

  “So, Milla, you’re not actually a full-time student, then?” Matthew asked, and I shook my head. “But you share lectures with Tony?” He leaned towards me, pushing aside an empty glass on the table.

  “Yup, two classes.”

  “Right.” Matthew rubbed his chin. “And where are you from again? I can’t place your accent.”

  Tony scoffed and shot me a pointed look. “Good luck getting anything out of her... She’s a vault of secrets.”

  “Whaaat…I’m an open book!”

  “Yeah, with a lot of blank pages.” Tony took a long swig of his beer and returned the pint down empty.

  I shot a glare Tony’s way and turned to Matthew. “I’m from out of town.” To say the least. “You won’t know the place, it’s small. Plus, we moved around a lot.”

  “Try me. I got Google Maps.”

  “It won’t show on Google.” Or on any map. I brushed off the images of my real home knocking on the door of my mind.

  “That small, eh? No wonder you joined us city folk.”

  “Precisely, Matt.”

  “Matthew,” he corrected. “I go by ‘Matthew.’”

  “Whatever, Mattie.” I rolled my eyes, knowing it would kill the questions.

  Jake returned with another round of drinks and passed them around. Perhaps I should’ve had one after all. I wasn’t quite caught up on the social norms yet.

  Matthew jolted up in his chair, drawing in our attention. “Man, I can’t believe I forgot to tell you guys! This is sick.” He drummed the table with his fingers in excitement. “Remember ages ago I saw that beat-up girl in the park, and she was in a coma for months, yeah?”

  My breaths stilled.

  “The battered lass on the local news?” Stan frowned as if trying to bring up details of an old story back to his memory. “What about her?”

  My heart racing, I concentrated on keeping a calm front. Only my foot refused to stop jiggling under the table.

  “She. Woke. Up.” Matthew drew out the words and I feigned surprise with the others.

  Did he know it was me?

  One of the guys must’ve asked for more details as Matthew answered, “It wasn’t in the news. I overheard two nurses talking about it last week whilst visiting my nan in the hospital. Apparently, she woke up months ago.”

  “I thought the papers wrote her off.” Jake touched up his gelled hair. “Where’s she now?”

  I swallowed, a little painfully. Was there a chance it wasn’t me? Pretty thread-thin of a chance.

  “Don’t know, mate. She’s in some kind of a witness protection scheme; that’s what the police officer implied on the night.” Matthew took a sip of beer.

  Eh? What police officer?

  “I must’ve missed the story in the news.” I eased my locked spine. “Where’d you find this girl? What happened?”

  Matthew’s face lit up. “Right, so I was going home through the park one night and I see this heap of a girl on the ground all messed up, with this young guy kneeling next to her. I stop, and he notices me, and jumps up, clearly upset.” Matthew wafted a hand in the air. “Anyhow, the guy says he’s an undercover cop, hands me a number to call for my statement, and basically gets rid of me. So, I go. And the next day it’s all over the news.”

  I bit my inner cheek to allow my alarmed body some release. Did Matthew not recognise me? What cop?

  I leaned my hand on my head to make sure it was still attached to my body.

  This could ruin my already questionable new life.

  I wanted to ask questions, but I was afraid they’d see through me. Instead, I picked at the Bombay mix on the table. Finger food made you look less guilty. Right?

  “So, did you actually see her face?” Stan asked, and I knew the answer had to be a no.

  “Nope,” Matthew said. “The cop made sure of that. He didn�
�t want her identity leaking to the media, I guess.”

  “Mate, look at you! Cops, villains, and a hot bird.” Jake elongated his last words, snapping his fingers in the air.

  “Dude.” Matthew pulled a face, unimpressed. “She was unconscious and caked in blood.”

  “Still, that’s sick man, sick.”

  I was about to excuse myself and leave the boys to their chatter, when I realised Tony had been silent the whole time, gazing out the window, deep in thought.

  I should kick myself in the neck. I’d been so wrapped up in stopping my heart from pounding out of my chest that I’d forgotten him. Was he not interested?

  “So, what’s your theory, Tony?” I pitched my voice just loud enough to draw his attention. His eyes remained glazed until I snapped my fingers by his ear. “What’s your take?” I repeated as he glanced at me. “As in, what happened to the girl Matthew found? Hey, you still with us?”

  Tony looked everywhere but directly at me. “I don’t know,” he grunted and straightened up. “Can I use your phone? My battery’s dead and I forgot I needed to call someone.”

  Taken back by his abrupt manner, I handed him my phone and watched him disappear outside.

  Something was off.

  *

  The engine was particularly loud, old as the car was. I was frustrated Tony had rushed off, but the opportunity to quiz Matthew for more details, as he drove me to Anita’s, was welcome.

  “Oh, you know that police officer you met at the park? Was his name Dave, by any chance? He’s a friend of mine on the force,” I queried innocently.

  “He didn’t give me his name.” Matthew flicked the button on the radio to find a better station. I would never have guessed he’d settle on jazz.

  “Right. I don’t suppose he was kind of short and round with blonde hair?”

  “No, the exact opposite actually.” The car struggled on the cobblestone road. “Tall, dark-haired. He looked young, like twenty, twenty-one? I wouldn’t have believed him, but he did flash a badge.”

  I’d fancy having a look at that badge myself.

  “Do you still have the number he gave you?”

  “Nah, I threw it away after I’d given my statement,” Matthew said. “Why do you ask, anyway?”

  “Just curious.”

  Matthew drummed his thumbs on the steering wheel. “Yeah, I wish I knew what happened to her.”

  I scoffed, recalling the sound my shoulder had made that night as it popped out of place. “She was probably a druggie, beat up by debt collectors or a punter.”

  “No. Not her. I didn’t see much but I didn’t get that vibe. Plus, the cop’s reaction wasn’t one a druggie would get. Before he saw me, he was sort of stroking her hair.” Matthew placed both hands on the wheel, sliding them to the top.

  I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth to keep myself from retorting with a torrent of questions.

  “Odd, I guess.” I threw in a yawn to feign disinterest and left the topic.

  A few minutes later, Matthew pulled up by Anita’s and I slipped into the house and up to my room unseen. The bed protested as I crashed on it. A headache was imminent. The ground under my house-of-cards-of-a-life trembled. Why was I even still in this city? And taking classes at university...?

  The truth was, being on the run had lost its appeal, and its purpose. I’d grown attached to Anita and Tony, and the thought of settling down. It was a distraction, a pain relief that worked better than any hospital bed. The loss and the guilt were numbed under the illusion of a normal life.

  But what if the truth came out and Anita found out I lied? What if she somehow found out about all the other times I’d put myself in hospital?

  I’d end up on the WANTED poster in both worlds.

  I flipped onto my back on the bed. It was unlikely. I always covered my tracks and Matthew clearly had no idea who I was, but the other guy…troubled me. A cop wouldn’t have dropped me outside the hospital; clearly, he was lying. Had someone from home found me? Had I crossed paths with a Scout or a Hunter? Then why had they let me live?

  I balled my fists against my forehead.

  I wasn’t going to like what I’d have to do next.

  Chapter 4

  A night of fitful sleep did the trick—I wasn't going to let some mystery man drive me to rash decisions. I was going to stay. If he’d wanted to cause trouble, he'd had plenty of chances to cause it.

  I stayed in my room all morning until Anita came to get me down for lunch. Her stilted body language confirmed to me she wasn’t pleased I’d, yet again, cancelled the appointment with the therapist.

  I grabbed her arm on the stairs. “I’m sorry,” I blurted. Anita’s fingers wrapped around the railing. “About yesterday. For missing the…thing.”

  Anita sucked in a sharp breath. “Are you…really? Don’t get me wrong but it seems every time I try to help, you find some way to cancel or have some other…” she trailed off, fixing up a strand of hair to her usual bun. “Camilla, you must have family or someone looking for you and—” Anita swallowed the rest as a soft groan escaped my lips.

  I’d told her time and time again I had a strong feeling I had no family, but she wouldn’t believe me. Of course, she was right not to, but that was beside the point.

  “Never mind, I’m sorry,” she said, much softer this time. “You don’t need this. I can only imagine how difficult this must be.”

  Typical Anita. She always put others first.

  “No, you’re right,” I admitted. “I have been putting off…well, everything.” A picture of Anita’s son stared at me from the wall, driving the guilt home further. “The truth is, I’m settling into this life and I’m afraid getting my memory back will ruin it.”

  Anita’s eyes searched mine until the usual warmth radiated through from them. “Of course. I understand. Take your time.” She beckoned with her head, grinning. “Come on, lunch is ready—my boys don’t wait.”

  After lunch, I left for the city centre. I wanted to give Anita’s family some alone time and I was down for meeting Tony at the cinema later on in the afternoon.

  The bus was still slightly in motion as I hopped on to the pavement. The police station stood in its majestic, familiar frame across the road. Anita had dragged me over there several times demanding a progress report, only to hear the same: without my memory, the case was at a dead end.

  Hands in my jeans’ pockets, I eyed the old Victorian building, crossed the road, and walked in the opposite direction.

  I wish I’d never lied about having amnesia. Anita would’ve understood if I didn’t want to talk about my past, but would she forgive me if she found out I lied? After all, she’d trusted me to look after her son.

  The rolling clouds swallowed the warmth of the sun as I strolled onto the grounds of an old townhouse that had been converted into a museum. A path, lined by trees, directed my steps. The smell of lemon trees injected a tidal-wave of memories: faces, tree-topped mountains, rays of sun bouncing off the long, marble corridors… All images of what I once called home.

  There were things I missed, people my heart ached to see. But for as long as home was tainted with the memory of him…

  I headed down the road of self-destruction and allowed the images to saturate my mind.

  His face alone carried marks of our history: the neat scar on his hairline that was barely visible, the impending laughter lines around his mouth, the cheekbones that caught freckles after a day of training in the sun. He was patient when I struggled, comforting when I missed my family, gentle when I messed up—

  A hole punched through my chest. The heartfelt memories iced over, spreading their unforgiving frost inside of me, as his last words resounded in my ear.

  “…Kali, no!” he’d screamed, face twisting in pain. “Don’t!”

  I staggered back. The words sounded physical as if spoken next to me. Grief wrapped its fingers around my throat; the guilt suffocated.

  Enough.

  I clutched
the back of my neck and focused on the oxygen flowing through my nose. Slowly, I regained control, fighting to take captive the straying thoughts.

  The metaphorical ice retreated inside me, leaving a damp trail, and then even that vaporised. I regained composure.

  My exhale was loud in the otherwise quiet surroundings.

  Over a year of running hadn’t healed the wounds. But here, surrounded by ordinary people’s lives, it was easier to forget, easier to be someone else.

  Going back home had never been an option, even if I was allowed to return.

  Being Camilla was my only chance of having somewhat of a life.

  *

  “Awesome film!” Tony zipped up his jacket. “I wish I could kick butt like that.”

  We stepped out of the cinema and walked along the quietening streets. The pub I had suggested wasn’t far.

  “It was okay. Typical action film.” I was a little brain-dead from the mindless violence.

  “Mate, didn’t you see those moves? Hijaaaaannng!” Tony’s impromptu side-kick nearly knocked out both me and a bin. I ducked, but the bin wasn’t so lucky.

  “Careful, Van Damme. I’d rather get home in one piece.” I placed my hands on the bin to stop the metallic rattle.

  “Sorry.” Tony checked for eyewitnesses. “Don’t you think it’d be so cool to know how to do all that stuff?”

  I grinned, tickled inside. There was a part of me, a rather large part, that missed the fighting and the training. I had always been one for the adrenaline rush.

  “You’d make a good fighter, Tony. You’re balanced.” I bit my lip. Why had I said that?

  “Balanced? What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Um, you seem to have a good…balance.” I dug my hands into my pockets.

  From the corner of my eye, I saw Tony glance at me. “Okay, weirdo.”

  “Takes one to know one.” Why did I have the urge to tell him? I shouldn’t be thinking on those lines. It was in the past and I was no longer who I used to be.

  “Hey, do you know that guy?” Tony’s elbow in my ribs summoned my attention as he pointed to a guy down the street, presumably waiting for the bus. There was something familiar about him—his stance? —but I couldn’t place him.