Twinned Shadow (The Shadow Series Book 1) by Candice Bundy (win 10 ebook reader .txt) 📗

the study starts. But you’ll see, it’s all in the paperwork. Good day to you, Becka,” Dr. Traut scurried off in the other direction.

Becka let out a long breath. What in the worlds had that mess been about? At least Dr. Traut had dismissed it. It would have been awful for her to lose the scholarship over the off-timed arrival of a fae warrior. Even if he was yummy to look at.

Becka used her phone to order a ride, and then walked across the campus to the ride share station. She got in the back of the one with the color matching the indicator on her screen, and the driverless vehicle pulled away from the curb.

She stared out the window, looking at the campus where she’d soon be employed, and was surprised to see Quinn leaning against a vehicle parked along the street. He looked straight at her as she passed by. She turned around and watched him get into his car, but then her ride had turned the corner and she lost sight of his car.

Such an odd experience. How did he know her name, and why would he offer her a ride?

A few minutes later her vehicle pulled up in front of the townhome she shared with her Aunt Lydia. Becka slipped in the front door, dropping her keys and backpack on the table.

At first, Becka did not understand where the distinctively familiar birdsong originated, and yet she recognized it immediately. Following the noise, she traced it into the living room where her Aunt Lydia stood peering down at the dust-covered landline phone.

Unsure of what to make of her Aunt Lydia’s posture, Becka sidled up to her, mirroring her stance. “Are you expecting it to sprout wings and fly away?”

Lydia rolled her eyes, her lips pursed to one side. “Of course not.”

The mid-morning light slanted in through the bay windows at the front of the nondescript remodeled row house they shared downtown. Out on the street, a steady stream of humanity bustled by in a sea of color and variation. There were no birds outside her window, but what did she expect, living as they did in the heart of the big city? Becka hadn’t heard a flycatcher or so many of the forest songbirds she’d grown up with since she left home. The thought was bittersweet; heavy on the bitter, light on the sweet.

Becka had lived with Lydia since they had cast her out from her guild eight years ago. An outcast from House Ash herself a decade plus longer, Lydia’s guidance in adapting to human culture had been invaluable. Her aunt had become eccentric in her middle age, wearing flowing caftans and keeping her hair in a messy ponytail bun, embracing her height and her curves without a care about others' opinions. Becka had envied Lydia’s carefree confidence before she’d grown to cherish it as a pathway to discovering her own equally unconventional style.

Human fashion sense had eluded her, so Becka had ordered outfits based on prominent fashion magazines. All the ornate description around simple clothing items fascinated her. Who knew a flouncy skirt could free, or the color black could be elegant?

She now wore a ‘trendy casual look for tall women with swagger’ from Boho Today magazine to prepare for her afternoon job interview. She didn’t feel the swagger yet, but the outfit included a gauzy patchwork kimono made up of muted Monet-styled swatches, skinny-pant dark brown slacks, and a moss-green satin and crochet ruffled layer tank top. Perhaps the promised swagger was a perceptual effect it caused on others, instead of how it made her feel? She’d further opted for flats instead of heels because ‘tall woman’ was an understatement with her fae-touched genes.

The phone continued to ring, rousing her from her momentary reverie.

“That’s the alder flycatcher’s song,” Becka said.

“Yeah, I know. Which means it’s your dad on the other end.” Lydia’s apprehension was contagious.

Becka nodded, rubbing her arms although it wasn’t cold. Was that fear or anticipation? She couldn’t quite tell. “He’s my father, not my dad. He hasn’t called in years.” Eight blissful years free of melodrama-steeped fae family drama. What had changed to prompt his call?

“And things were going so well,” Lydia muttered. She picked up the phone. “Hello? Uh, huh? Okay.” Lydia frowned, and the golden sheen of her eyes dimmed with emotion. Becka guessed this wasn’t a social call. “One moment, Vott, she’s right here,” Lydia replied, and then held out the phone to her.

Becka took a step back. “Tell him you were wrong and that I left,” she whispered. “Or I’m gonna be late for my interview. I dressed extra human for it!”

Lydia eyed her outfit and gave her a quick thumbs-up. “You look sharp,” she whispered back. “And I absolutely love how the labradorite and moonstone accents in your ear piercings coordinate with your kimono jacket!”

“I can hear you, you know,” Vott said, his voice registering loud and clear from the phone.

Becka flinched. Of course, he could hear them. Damned fae enhanced senses.

Lydia shrugged, and then Becka took the phone from her.

“Hello, Vott.” Despite the years apart, the wound of being outcast had never fully healed, despite how often she’d told herself it was buried it in the past. “It’s been what, four years since we’ve spoken?”

“My dearest Becka,” he replied, voice strained. He sounded exhausted. “I would mark it closer to five.”

Becka took a deep breath, flooded with sudden memories and emotion. She’d been outcast eight years ago. Afterwards Vott had called only to discuss expenditures. The last time they’d talked he’d argued over her need for more schooling, but had eventually given in. For all her resentment, she missed him and this rare moment of connection served as a double-edged sword.

“I am afraid I bear ill tidings.” For a gregarious man, his voice lacked strength. “I regret to inform you your twin, Tesse, has passed.”

Becka clutched at her chest, suddenly unable to breathe. How could Tesse be dead? She hadn’t expected her sister to live