The alley behind the abandoned electronics store was shrouded in shadow, even in the middle of the afternoon. Steam rose from a nearby manhole cover, creating a curtain of mist that seemed to swallow sound and light alike.
Kieran leaned against the brick wall with casual grace, his human disguise perfect except for his eyes—which held a predatory gleam that no teenager should possess. Across from him stood a figure cloaked in darkness, their features hidden beneath a deep hood.
"So," the figure said, their voice carrying an otherworldly resonance that seemed to echo from multiple directions at once. "Why the interest in this particular human? Surely one mortal boy isn't worth risking our mission."
Kieran's lips curved into that too-wide smile. "Ah, but he's not just any human." He examined his fingernails with affected nonchalance. "The boy can see through the Veil. He saw my true form during our little sparring match yesterday."
The hooded figure went very still. "That's... unusual."
"Unusual?" Kieran laughed, a sound like breaking glass. "It's fascinating. Do you know how rare it is for an ordinary human to perceive what lies beneath our masks? Most of them are so blind, so willfully ignorant. But this one..." He pushed off from the wall, beginning to pace with liquid movements. "This one sees everything."
"What if he's the one the Masters are looking for?" The figure's voice dropped to an urgent whisper.
"Please." Kieran waved a dismissive hand, though something flickered across his features for just a moment. "You're being far too serious. The chances of stumbling across him by pure coincidence are astronomical. Besides, look at him—" He gestured toward nothing, but his eyes seemed to track something invisible. "He's already half-mad with fear. Hardly the stuff of prophecy."
The hooded figure stepped closer, and the temperature in the alley dropped noticeably. "Don't let your... entertainment... interfere with our mission. The Masters have waited for results for years now. The Convergence begins in three days, and we need the Anchor Points secured."
"My dear Shade," Kieran said, using a title that seemed to cause the shadows around them to writhe, "when have I ever failed to deliver? The boy is nothing more than an amusing diversion. A way to pass the time while we wait for the real work to begin."
"See that it remains that way." The figure began to dissolve into the darkness, their voice becoming more distant with each word. "The Masters are watching, Kieran. Don't give them reason to question your loyalty."
"Wouldn't dream of it," Kieran murmured to the empty alley.
But as he straightened his polo shirt and prepared to return to his role as an ordinary transfer student, his smile became something truly predatory. The boy was more interesting than he'd let on to his handler. Much more interesting.
And Kieran had always been drawn to interesting things.
---
Finnian sat in his last period study hall, staring blankly at the calculus homework he'd been trying to work on for the past twenty minutes. The numbers seemed to swim on the page, refusing to hold still long enough for him to make sense of them.
He rubbed his eyes, which felt gritty and sore from lack of sleep. Every shadow in his peripheral vision seemed to move, every whisper from other students sounded like it might be about him.
*Maybe I should see the school counselor,* he thought for the hundredth time that day. *Maybe David and Maya are right. Maybe I am having some kind of breakdown.*
But even as he considered it, he knew he couldn't. How could he explain what he was seeing without sounding completely insane? How could he describe the way Kieran's reflection sometimes showed too many teeth, or the way his shadow seemed to move independently of his body?
"Mr. Ravenswood?"
Finnian looked up to find Mrs. Chen, the study hall monitor, standing next to his desk. Her expression was concerned, and he realized he'd been staring at the same math problem for so long that his pen had leaked ink all over the page.
"Are you feeling alright?" she asked quietly. "You look very pale."
"I'm fine," he said automatically, then winced at how hollow his own voice sounded.
Mrs. Chen didn't look convinced, but before she could respond, the classroom door opened. Finnian's heart sank as he saw who walked in.
"Sorry I'm late," Kieran said to Mrs. Chen, holding up a hall pass. "Had to get my schedule adjusted."
"No problem at all. Find a seat anywhere."
The study hall was nearly full, with only a few scattered empty desks. But somehow, inevitably, the only available seat was directly across from Finnian.
Kieran settled into his chair, placing his books on the desk with deliberate precision. He caught Finnian's eye and smiled—a perfectly normal, friendly smile that somehow made Finnian's skin crawl.
"Working on calculus?" Kieran asked conversationally, nodding toward Finnian's ink-stained homework. "I love math. There's something beautiful about the way numbers follow rules, don't you think? So predictable. So... orderly."
Finnian didn't respond, focusing instead on trying to clean up the ink mess. But he could feel Kieran watching him, studying him like a specimen under a microscope.
"You know," Kieran continued, his voice barely above a whisper, "I've been thinking about our conversation in English class. About obsession. It's funny how some people become fixated on things that aren't really there."
Finnian's pen froze on the paper. "What do you mean?"
"Oh, nothing specific." Kieran's smile widened just a fraction too much. "Just that sometimes our minds play tricks on us. Make us see things that couldn't possibly be real."