An Absence of Light

By Meradeth Houston

Leah’s always seen the shadow creatures. She thought she was immune to their evil—until now.

She’s walked into a massacre, stolen a BMW, and is running from the law for a crime she didn’t commit. Nineteen-year-old Leah’s life just went from mildly abnormal to totally crazy at lightning speed. But no one will believe that the shadow creatures are framing her for the murder, because she’s the only one that can see them. At least that’s what she thought.

When Leah stumbles across a group who share her ability, she discovers they have something she doesn’t: a way to fight back. When the group offers to teach her how to kill the shadow creatures, Leah jumps at the chance. But something is brewing with the creatures. They’re tracking down the hunters like there’s no tomorrow. Leah suspects that maybe there won’t be, and it’s up to her to make sure tomorrow comes. Because she’ll do anything to stop the shadows, including risking her life—and the life of the one she loves—to keep the world from being lost to darkness forever.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Evernight Teen
• Release date: Nov 4, 2014
• ISBN: 9781772330809

Book preview

Chapter One

The dead don’t blink.

My father’s blank stare seemed to follow me around the room. My mother, beside him, had a narrow-eyed glare that made me flinch. I couldn’t even bear to look at my sister. Something about her frozen expression made my stomach tighten. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her be still. Ever.

The wail of a siren in the distance settled my new reality around me, like a heavy shroud. I’d called 911 when I noticed the front door ajar. I hadn’t expected to find this inside. Now, I had to get out before anyone saw me.

Blood, cool and sticky, seeped through the knees of my jeans. Hitching back a sob, I pressed my lips to the forehead of each of my family members: A silent goodbye, which should have been so much more.

With stumbling steps, I hurried through my darkened house. They’d made sure not a single bulb worked, which pissed me off enough to worm through my grief.

"Miserable, horrible, stupid, things," I growled. My feet crunched over broken glass in the kitchen and I slid into the counter. My mother’s favorite pitcher sat there, full of iced tea, ready for dinner just like any other night. A bloody handprint streaked across the counter next to it. With shaking fingers, I pressed my palm against the print. It had to be my mom’s—her hands were the same size as mine.

A hitching sob doubled me over. How could this happen?

The siren grew louder, wailing like the beast of my grief in my chest. All I wanted to do was to huddle on the floor and whimper. But I had to get out. If I didn’t go now, I’d never escape. No time for clothes, extra cash, anything.

They wanted it that way. Stifling a cry at this painful realization, I fumbled with the back door, finally releasing the lock. Run, run, run…

I hurried out the gate to the side yard as the police siren cut off out front.

I couldn’t explain to the police what happened. They wouldn’t believe me when I told them strange, horrible, shadowy creatures created the carnage. That the planted clues didn’t mean I’d killed my family. No one ever believed me when I mentioned the Shadows.

Dad’s voice whispered in my ear, so real I jerked around, half expecting his blank stare to have followed me. You’ve always been a dreamer. It’s one of your gifts. I’d laughed and played along every time he said it. Dreamer. Sure. I dreamed of slimy, evil monsters who tortured and killed. If I were really a dreamer, I’d dream of the fields of lavender that stretch to the horizon, like I’ve seen in pictures. I’d dream that someone knows I’m not out of my mind. That there’s some way to escape the Shadows that haunt me.

Hurrying down the darkened street, my wet jeans slapped against my skin and I succumbed to my tears. The overwhelming grief ate at me from within, taking too-large bites from my soul.

I didn’t care where I ended up, so long as it was far away from here.

Wandering in a haze, I found my way to a dingy gas station bathroom where I did my best to wash up. The soap was the horrible pink, powdery kind. It stained the water a noxious shade of red. Or that’s what I told myself. It had to be the soap. Not blood.

My fingernails wouldn’t come clean, no matter how hard I scrubbed.

It took everything in me not to hyperventilate. My breath rushed in and out as I rocked over the sink. Finally, the water ran clear.

My skin sore and raw, I turned off the tap and buried my face in my hands.

For a split second, I let myself pretend. If I left this bathroom with the phone numbers and etched gang signs on the walls, my family would be waiting in the parking lot. Maybe we would drive to the beach: Mom, behind the wheel, with my sister in the backseat, bouncing and impatient to be back on the road. Dad would have a book open, like always. They’d smile and I’d slip into the car and we’d race away from here.

I would give anything for it to be true.

Reality seemed like a film. If I could just find the rewind button maybe I could skip back to before everything happened.

Dragging in a deep breath, I forced myself to think about something else. There would be plenty of time to dwell on what I should have done, and mourn them properly. Later.

If later ever came. The Shadows had killed everyone in my family, and would come for me next. And the cops? They would want to talk, having found the bodies.

Bodies.

My stomach heaved and I clenched my fists. I couldn’t lose it yet.

Those creatures would be looking for me. Ready to finish the job. I had to keep moving.

Escaping was all I could focus on. Any memories or daydreams would only distract me. I couldn’t go there, or I’d end up dead. And if I knew anything, I knew my family would never forgive me for that.

Outside, the golden light of sunrise did little to improve the scrawl of graffiti and trash littered around the pumps.

Grateful to think about something other than my personal hell, I went over my options. I couldn’t go back and get my car—there would be cops, and it could be traced back to me. Busses were too slow, and I didn’t have much cash. Hitchhiking in L.A. would be like hanging my thumb out to ensure I got raped and killed. Trains were a joke, and again I didn’t have money.

I kept to the patches of sunlight on the sidewalk while I walked. I wanted nothing to do with shadows, not now, not ever.

Up ahead, a small restaurant decorated with little plastic banners and a cracked front window caught my attention. Parked illegally on a red curb sat a car that belonged on Rodeo Drive––a shiny BMW the color of morning fog, that screamed speed and distance.

The flashy car would be impossible to steal. Someone would be looking for it in a minute flat and I’d add grand theft auto to my rap sheet—which probably now included murder, or would once the cops started investigating. I didn’t doubt the murderous Shadow’s ability to implicate me in my family’s deaths.

Still, I drew closer. The car was so at odds with everything else, I couldn’t help my curiosity. My father ran an auto shop and I’d been raised with a healthy appreciation for fine automobiles.

Had run an auto shop. He wouldn’t ever set foot there, or anywhere, again.

Stop it, Leah. Don’t think about it. If I didn’t think about it, I could almost pretend it didn’t happen. Almost.

Peeking into the window, I noticed the keys sat in the driver’s seat. That couldn’t be right.

Looking around, empty shops and the darkened restaurant watched me. Nothing would be open this early.

Across the street a small pathway opened between a store selling products imported from Mexico and a head shop. The smell of ripe garbage wafted in the breeze, along with something else.

More than trash lurked in the alley.

A creeping tingle of coldness wound around my ankles. Something lived in there––the same things that took away my family and had stalked me for most of my life.

I didn’t have a name for them. In my head, I called them the Shadows: inky, black creatures that avoided the light, like I avoided the dark. They did things. Things that made monsters like Hitler look warm and fuzzy—or at least, less homicidal.

How they did it confounded me, but they had the ability to influence the darkness in people, to make them do terrible things. The Shadows got something from it, as if they fed from humanity’s malevolence. I’d tried to learn more about them since I realized no one else could see them, but they didn’t exist in any book, Web page, or library.

The only thing I could conclude was that they were otherworldly evil, pure and simple.

It didn’t help that lately the Shadows had been more focused on me. I’d seen more in the last few months than I had in my whole life, and they had been acting stranger than normal. They were up to something.

Plotting how to kill me, and everyone I love. I’d been so stupid not to figure that out.

As if hearing my thoughts, the Shadow sensed my presence. It crept forward to the mouth of the alleyway, a darker blotch of oily blackness that moved of its own volition. A fine tendril rose from its black mass, reminding me of a periscope on a submarine, searching.

Crap. I glanced around for the best way to escape. No way I could outrun the thing.

The Shadow moved into the open. Skirting the light, coming ever closer. Picking up speed. I had to get away. Now.

My heart began beating double-time and my feet froze to the ground.

A part of me wanted to step on it, like a giant slug, but it wouldn’t do anything. They couldn’t be killed that way.

I would give anything to know if I could get rid of them, to wipe them from the face of the earth. But they didn’t die. Didn’t disappear. Didn’t leave me alone.

There was nowhere to hide. They’d kill me. Just like they did my family.

Glancing at the car in front of me, my panicked laugh caught me by surprise.

Another entry for my rap sheet.

Careful to keep in the light, I hurried around to the driver’s side. Scooping up the keys, I threw myself behind the wheel. My fingers trembled as I shoved the key into the ignition.

The Shadow lurked near my door. I spared it one glance before the engine caught with a merciful roar and I slammed my foot on the gas.

The tires squealed and a trail of smoke hid the Shadow. The snaking chill, as I always felt from them, gave way and I knew I had left it behind.

There would be more, though. There were always more.

Chapter Two

The BMW’s rear-view mirror and I became well acquainted over the next few hours. I angled it so I couldn’t see my horrible frizz of blonde hair or the dark circles under my eyes, while I still made sure to avoid any flashing red and blue lights.

Traffic, music pounding on the state-of-the-art sound system, and adrenaline kept my mind on the road. I couldn’t let myself think about anything else. I knew once I gave into my grief, its dark tide would close over my head, and I had no idea if I could resurface.

It was almost as if I watched myself go through the motions of driving, breathing, staying awake. The seeming disconnect, between my actions and my brain, creeped me out–– but I knew enough to realize it was the only thing that kept me moving.

In the middle of the afternoon, after filling up once, I ran on fumes as I coasted off I-80. I’d cut off from I-5 somewhere in Sacramento, heading toward the shore.

While hunting for someplace to beg for gas, the car shuddered and died with a rattle and clank that set my teeth on edge. I managed to guide it into a parking lot before it lost all momentum.

Well, this is just perfect. I thumped my head back against the headrest and closed my eyes. I had no idea where I was, other than somewhere in the vast central valley of California. The city signs read a town’s name with the Spanish word for cows. I had exactly five dollars in my pocket—enough for a little over a gallon of gas. My car was a beacon, flashing stolen into the sky.

This is where the Shadows will find you and finish you off. The thought was almost a relief. The stifled ache in my chest accelerated my breathing, and I dug my nails into the leather seats until I caught and wrangled my thoughts back into submission. I had to keep it together. I didn’t stand a chance if I didn’t.

The low thrum of Spanish music and the whine of an electric drill drew me back to reality.

I peered out the window at the bustling garage I’d parked in front of. Instantly, tears pooled in my eyes as thoughts of my father flooded my mind.

Don’t go there. Just don’t go there, I whispered aloud to myself, ruthlessly scrubbing my cheeks.

I sat for a good ten minutes as I rattled through my options. I could steal another car, though I really didn’t want to. This beamer felt like mine. I didn’t want to give it up. Gas wouldn’t be easy to steal without a credit card, but there wasn’t even a gas station in sight.

A knock on the driver’s window behind me made me yelp, and my heart kicked up enough speed to rattle my chest.

I looked out at the middle-aged Mexican man who frowned at me. He carried a bag of fast food and his shirt proclaimed the name of Manuel’s Auto Body Shop, in business for 25 years.

Not a Shadow. Shadows don’t knock. My heart rate tapered off as I slid the window down and smiled up at him.

He watched me like he wasn’t quite sure what to do. He had to know I stole the car. No nineteen-year-old dressed in clothes stolen from a thrift store drove something this nice.

Hi. I tried to say something else, but my tongue refused to cooperate.

May I help you? he asked, looking me over again.

I, I don’t know. I just ran out of gas.

His full lips pressed together and he ran a free hand through his thick salt-and-pepper hair. The gas station is a mile that way. He pointed away from the freeway.

Do you have a gas can I could maybe borrow? I asked, putting on my best pitiful face. At this point begging wasn’t beneath me. So long as I kept ahead of the Shadows—and my own thoughts—I might stand a chance.

The man sighed. I do.

Waving for me to follow, I slid out of the car, patting the hood as I walked by like a dog I wanted to stay put.

The snaking coolness wrapped around my ankles like icy shackles. I froze, scanning everywhere as my breath came and went in painful gasps.

No, no, no––they can’t be here.

Across the street a small, hedge-lined driveway went around the back of a dentist’s office. One of the Shadows moved. They followed me. This is it. They’re going to take me out, along with this poor guy, and that’s going to be it. I’m so sorry, Dad.

I turned back to the man, ready to run, and my stomach plummeted.

He stared across the street at the exact spot the Shadow lingered. Glancing between the two, he tracked the thing as it twisted deeper into the hedge’s shadows and then back behind the building.

He can see them. He can see the Shadows.

I wanted to wrap my arms around him in a giant hug. After so many years of pretending the Shadows didn’t exist, I’d begun to think I’d lost some important marble along the way.

I’m not crazy. For the first time since I walked into my house last night, I drew a breath that filled my lungs. Even my fear that the Shadow across the street would attack paled next to knowing someone else could see it.

Millions of questions flooded my mind and a strange sense of relief welled up. I knew what I needed to do: if he knew anything, anything at all about the Shadows, I had to find out.

He turned back to me, his eyes meeting mine. We need to get inside. Hurry.

The man led the way into the cramped office next to the garage. A beat-up wooden desk and an old leather couch took up most of the space. Magazines covered a small table in the corner. The tile floor speckled with shoe-scuffs and drips of dark oil.

You saw it, didn’t you?

Swallowing, I nodded. You did too.

He managed a quick nod. We’ll discuss this later. You’re safe in here, at least until it goes away.

I almost laughed. Safe? There’s no such thing.

He merely nodded. Somehow, without saying anything, I actually believed him. Or maybe it was just that I wanted to believe him. Safety from the Shadows was an impossible dream.

I have so many questions.

He chuckled, a kind sound. So do I. I’m Manuel, by the way. He held out a hand for me to shake. All I noticed were his fingers, long and fine. Graceful. At odds with the rest of him.

Lee. I shook his hand and ignored the question in his eyes. I wasn’t about to give my full name. It wasn’t safe for either of us.

Did you need to keep on the road? The implication I ran from something settled between us, a simple truth of the Shadows in our lives.

I shook my head. I don’t have money for gas. Just a few bucks. And I wasn’t going anywhere until we had a chance to talk. He must have understood that.

Let me guess––them? he jerked a thumb in the direction of the Shadow we’d seen.

I nodded, my throat officially too tight to speak.

How good are you at filing?

My watery grin probably didn’t inspire much confidence. I’m good, I squeaked. My mother had been the one to show me how to handle paperwork, blessing me with her need for order.

He nodded, going over to the desk and throwing open a couple of drawers. Seth’s sister, Sandra, used to do this for us, but she ran off with some sh––jerk, and I haven’t had time to get caught up.

I can organize all that.

Manuel scrutinized me for a minute before agreeing. I’ll pay you. Do you have someplace to stay tonight?

Inspecting the pattern of drips on the floor, I shook my head. I can sleep in my car.

I have a room over my garage. It isn’t much. But we can talk there, easier. And I can make sure you’re safe there. He glanced out the window in the door to the men working on the cars. They had no clue what their boss had seen in the dark.

Did I want to go back with this guy? I didn’t know him at all.

But he saw the Shadows. He knew what they could do. No one could side with the Shadows if they knew the truth. It wasn’t much to go on, but it was enough.

If he can really make someplace safe from the Shadows, I’d follow him to Timbuktu.

Okay, I whispered, praying I wasn’t making a huge mistake.

Manuel took his food from the desk and nodded. I’ll get one of the boys to throw a gallon in and move your car around back.

That was the only admission I’d get from him that he knew the car was hot. With a little wave, he went into the garage and left me alone to face the mountain of paperwork shoved into the desk drawers. Something to get lost in, that wouldn’t allow me to think about anything else.

Silently, I begged that I hadn’t gotten myself into a much deeper mess.

Shortly before five, Manuel returned. A smear of something dark arched over one eyebrow, giving him a rakish look.

He took one look at the neat piles across the desk and burst out laughing. You weren’t kidding, were you?

I looked out the front window at the fog rolling in. Yeah, I think I’ve figured it out. Sorting everything had been just engaging enough to keep my thoughts locked away. Somehow, I made it through the afternoon without sobbing. I’d only caught myself once, staring out the window at nothing for an unknown amount of time, my thoughts a blank of exhausted nothingness.

With a grin, Manuel went into the back stock room and I could hear him washing up.

When the door to the garage opened, I tensed. I’d been alone all day, undoubtedly by Manuel’s order. I wanted to stay hidden, breathing in the scents that reminded me of my dad, enjoying the hospitality Manuel offered until I could question him. If only I could stay hidden forever.

Hey. The male voice was friendly, but I found myself unconsciously searching the desk for a weapon.

Hey, I said to the paper clips.

Manuel got you paper pushing all day? The man hesitated a moment before stepping closer.

It’s good. I forced myself to look over at him, arranging my features into as neutral an expression as I could get.

He shrugged. It’s about time Manuel finally found someone to help with it. You from the temp agency?

I shook my head in a quick jab. Just passing through.

Nice wheels out there. He gave me a small smile, his eyes shaded by a plain ball cap. He hadn’t shaved in at least a week, but instead of looking scruffy and unkempt, it gave him a very masculine look—something Hollywood actors could pull off, but I’d never seen in real life. He’d stripped off half his jumpsuit, revealing a T-shirt advertising Manuel’s shop and an intricate tattoo etched down his right forearm.

Something about his tattoo caught my eye, and I found myself staring at the design, not sure what interested me about it. Normally, I hated ink. When most of my friends decided to get something done during a trip to Mexico, I’d made excuses. This was different. Delicate and masculine––dark, but not scary. It suited him better than I could explain. An intense desire to trace the dark lines tingled in my fingertips.

I formed fists and looked back out the window.

He followed my gaze and ran a hand over the ink. My sister hates this thing, but it’s kinda grown on me. Woke up one morning, and it was just there. He chuckled in a self-deprecating way that brought a little smile to my lips.

I like it.

Thanks.

Before things could get any more awkward, Manuel emerged from the back room and clapped a hand on the guy’s back. I see you’ve met Adam. This is Lee. She’s helping catch up from when Sandra ditched out.

I held out my hand and Adam shook it, his palm rough against mine, and his smile as genuine as my own. We’re glad to have ya, he said.

I shrugged and tried to hide the squirming feeling their attention gave me. I think I’d be happier if I could be invisible.

We have a potential problem, Manuel intoned, his whole demeanor changing. He looked less like the kindly man I’d met and a whole lot more like someone bent on vengeance.

I stepped back until I hit the wall behind me.

Adam narrowed his eyes, glancing at me.

She can see them. There was one across the street when she arrived.

And you’re only telling me now? Adam snapped, his knuckles blanching where he gripped the edge of the desk.

I reached for the stapler. The way Adam looked at me left an icy burn across my skin.

It disappeared. I did check it out. And we’re safe in here.

Adam nodded, his labored breath indicative of an attempt to cool his temper. Then his green eyes shifted to