Layla and the Shadowman didn't discuss their eventful experience at Playland, returning to Shadow Bay in silence. She should've been relieved that the demon was gone, and that neither of them had been harmed, but a horrible thought was gnawing at Layla's mind. She didn't want to think about it, but had the demon's words been true and free of hidden consequences, would Layla have had disappeared instead of the demon?
She looked at the Shadowman, just for a second, as they were taking the train back home, but he caught her glance.
"You okay?" the Shadowman asked.
Layla nodded, rubbing along the black fabric of her jacketed arms. "Yeah."
The Shadowman's gaze lingered, and he turned away. Layla wanted to say something, to fill the silence, but she failed to find the right words and looked out the window for the rest of the trip instead.
When they reached the front porch of Layla's house, the Shadowman spoke.
"I'll see you tonight," he said.
Layla nodded and, without thinking, hugged him. The Shadowman stiffened under the sudden embrace, and Layla drew back.
"Sorry," she said. "I didn't mean—"
"It's okay," the Shadowman said. "Just... wasn't expecting that."
Layla nodded again.
The Shadowman held out his arms, a sheepish expression on his face. "Try again?"
Layla smiled and gave him another hug, and he reciprocated.
She waited for him later that night, the fairy lights in her bedroom casting a soft, cozy atmosphere while her cat, Sushi, was stretched out on her back, demanding a belly rub. The shadows in the left corner shifted, and Sushi perked up, rolling onto her stomach as they formed a silhouette. She bristled.
"It's okay, Sushi," Layla whispered, stroking along the cat's back. "Be a good kitty."
The cat's ears folded back, and she vibrated with a low growl as the Shadowman left the darkness.
"I remember when she attacked me," he said. "Brave kitty."
Layla tried not to laugh, recalling the memory of her big, black cat throwing all her weight at a giant tree monster. "Thankfully, you didn't murder her."
The Shadowman chuckled. "She was fast."
He sat down on the edge of the bed, maintaining eye contact with the cat. Sushi's ears lifted, tail swishing, and she tilted her head in curiosity and trilled. The comical reaction made Layla laugh, and she gave the cat's head a scratch.
"She's like, 'Hmm, there's something different about him,'" Layla said.
"Yeah," the Shadowman said. "He looks an awful lot like Connor."
Layla laughed.
"It's even funnier because Connor has never been to my house," she said. "He's always hanging out with Luke. I think he's in love with him. Might explain the stuff about a love potion we found in his locker."
The Shadowman merely nodded. He obviously wasn't interested in the melodramatic love lives of teenagers, and neither was Layla.
"Anyway," she said, "I guess we solved the mystery of the Book of Shadows—for the most part. Seems we'll never really know exactly what we are and why we're here like... this."
"Like what? Human?"
"Yeah. Just a chaotic universe we live in, I guess."
"Hmm."
"My friends will be asking about what happened. They thought the demon and you were secretly working together."
The Shadowman half-laughed. "Well, now you can tell them that I made the demon go 'poof.'"
Layla smiled, petting Sushi, who was a purring puddle of black among the bedsheets. Her smile faltered as the dreadful question from earlier slithered back into her mind.
"Can I ask you something?" Layla said.
"Sure," the Shadowman said.
Layla struggled with wording the question in her head, and she gave up. "Never mind, it's stupid."
"What is it?"
"I... I just wanted to know, if what the demon said were true, and you could have whatever you wanted and it wouldn't cost anything, would you have used the Silver Sight? I mean, you could have... taken all my power. You could have made me a weak little human again, and then killed me or something."
"Why would I do that?"
"I... don't know. I guess I'm just not used to... um, feeling that valued?"
A silent pause grew between them, an awkward thickness in the air. Layla regretted having spilled such ridiculous and unnecessary thoughts out to him.
"Before we met," the Shadowman said, "I wasn't able to leave Shadow Bay, even as Connor. Today, I took a train. I visited a different city. I haven't been pulled back to the woods after dark. Before we met, I was trapped, and it was impossible to realize that until you made it possible."
Layla's heart squeezed with warmth. She wanted to get up and sit beside the Shadowman and hold him, but she refrained.
Sushi swatted at her, meowing for attention. Layla laughed to herself, giving the cat the petting she demanded.
"Sorry," Layla said, glancing at the Shadowman. "I don't really know what to say, other than I'm just... happy to know that. I'm happy you're here."
The Shadowman responded with a small smile.
Layla wished she had expressed more that night. She wasn't just happy that the Shadowman was free of the curse and in her life—she was the happiest she'd ever been. She'd recovered her fragments that had made her whole through the only person who truly understood her, who knew what it was like to be a non-human of the night in a human world that feared the dark.
The Midnight Society, as cool and fun as the group could be, would never understand. It was focused on fear and portraying the darkness as a primordial enemy of humanity, like most horror stories did. Maybe Layla was overthinking it, but the fact that her friends couldn't fully accept her was evidence of the commonly pedaled ignorance that rotted human brains: light was good and dark was evil.
Recounting what had happened at Playland to her friends earned Layla stares of disbelief. They were still trying to register the reality of a curse-free Shadowman, among other things. No one had forgotten what she'd done to Ms. Shaffner. The teacher hadn't returned to school; in fact, she'd quit without notice. If Layla were honest, though, quitting had been long overdue for the miserable hag.
The new English teacher was Ms. Lightbody. She was as fair and dainty as her surname suggested, her long, blonde hair sweeping behind her as she practically floated across the classroom. Her voice was soft and angelic and almost put a few students to sleep. She was a stark contrast to Ms. Shaffner. How had the school hired her so fast, Layla wondered? Not that she could complain.
With Halloween less than two weeks away, Layla was trying to figure out what to do. The Midnight Society wouldn't be able to have its annual horror movie marathon at Connor's house. Surprisingly, Connor didn't have a plan. He would've had wanted everyone to sneak out at midnight for such a favorable holiday. Layla didn't have to ask why—she knew he and the others trusted her as much as they trusted the Shadowman.
Not far from Layla's locker, Ben Montgomery, one of the popular boys, flirted with a group of girls and seemed to be asking them a question, to which they nodded, all giddy. Ben's friend high-fived him and declared that Ben would be having the sickest Halloween party ever, and that everyone was invited. Students around them cheered.
Layla smiled to herself, mind brewing with a wicked idea.
On Halloween, Layla was dressed by the evening, touching up her winged eyeshadow in the bathroom mirror. She hadn't told anyone, including the Shadowman, that she'd been planning to attend a house party. Instead, she'd told her parents that she would be spending a few hours with Connor at his house, watching horror movies together. Her mother was passing through the hall and stopped upon seeing her daughter.
"I thought you were dressing up as a werewolf?" Mom said, entering the bathroom.
Layla hadn't told her mother that part either. She'd forgotten.
"Changed my mind," Layla said, talking to her mother's reflection.
"Okay," Mom said. "So, what's the new costume? Where'd you get it?"
"I've had it for a while," Layla said, turning around to show her mother.
The costume was all black: a slim-fitting dress, a lightweight cape featuring a spiderweb-shaped collar, laced-up arm warmers, pointed boots, and a rhinestone crown embellished with a skull. It wasn't too revealing, but the thigh-slit caused her mother to make a face.
"You should wear stockings," Mom said.
"This cape hides everything, trust me." Layla pulled both sides of the transparent material to cover herself. "See?"
"Not really," Mom said, "but whatever. As long as you aren't going anywhere else. I'm sure Connor will like it, just don't get carried away."
"Ew, Mom. We're friends."
Layla wasn't even sure she'd ever genuinely been friends with Connor, but she sure as hell wasn't attracted to him. She didn't have romantic feelings for the Shadowman either—he was like the older brother she'd never had. The thought of dating him was gross and wrong. The thought of dating anyone had always been alien to her. She'd never experienced romantic attraction, let alone physical, and she didn't want to. She had no sexual desire whatsoever.
Dad, like Mom, didn't miss the chance to remark her costume and mention Connor.
"Wait until you're eighteen," he said. "It's just a little less than two years."
Layla threw her hands up. "Oh my god! We are not in a relationship!"
The doorbell rang.
"That must be him," Dad said, answering the door, and there was the Shadowman in his pretty-boy disguise. "My future son-in-law!"
Layla groaned.
Dad held the door open and greeted "Connor," beckoning him to come in, and the Shadowman entered.
"Movie night, huh?" Dad said, wiggling his eyebrows.
"Dad," Layla said, "leave."
"Okay, but promise me you'll wait until eighteen."
Layla stomped her boot on the carpet. "Yes, fine! Just go!"
Dad winked and left, disappearing around the bend and into the hallway.
The Shadowman looked at Layla, confused. "What was that about?"
Layla rolled her eyes. "My parents think we're dating."
He grimaced.
"Exactly," Layla said.
The Shadowman's attention shifted to her costume. "What are you supposed to be?"
Layla held out her arms in a "ta-da" fashion. "The Queen of Darkness. I feel I've finally earned it."
"Ah," the Shadowman said. "That you have."
"And why aren't you dressed up?"
"I am dressed up. I'm the Shadowman."
Layla forced a laugh.
"Very well, Shadowman," she said, and held up a hand waiting to be taken. "Escort me."
The Shadowman laughed under his breath, and he took her hand. "Where to, Your Majesty?"
Layla raised a finger to her lips and guided the Shadowman out of the house. She shut the door behind them.
"Ben Montgomery's," she said. "He's having a house party."
"What?" the Shadowman said. "I thought you didn't like parties?"
"I do now."
The fastest and most efficient way to Ben Montgomery's house was traveling by the speed of dark. The night hid Layla and the Shadowman well, allowing them to reach their destination faster than if the party had been held during the day. The three-story waterfront home was booming with people and music, colorful lights flashing in the first-floor windows. Halloween decorations were cleverly placed and looked professionally designed. Animatronics jumped out at costumed teenagers along the pathway to the flight of steps, and a skeletal butler greeted everyone at the French doors.
Inside the grand, spiderweb-strewn living room with a floor that was obscured in thick fog, Layla took the Shadowman's hand. They squeezed through the crowd, rounding the abundant obstacles that were people, some of whom were swaying and swerving to the music and nearly collided with them.
The spacious, open kitchen was less congested, but just as decorated: decals of blood and bloody handprints splattered the white cabinets; the chandelier was made of realistic bones and skulls; fake, bloodied knives were strung above the double sink; and jars of curiosities were grouped in a corner on the granite counter. Layla had to admit that, for a popular kid who was obsessed with selfies and social media, Ben and his family sure did love Halloween and did it justice.
Bottles of alcohol and Solo cups occupied the island. A couple guys were anticipating beer pong, laughing about their prospective hangovers. One side of Layla was regretting having attended an event as obnoxious as a high school party, but the other was determined and excited to instill the fear of Halloween.
The Shadowman leaned in to whisper in her ear. "Run the plan past me again."
"We wait here a few minutes," Layla said. "The more people, the merrier. Then, I ask the DJ to play that remix of Thriller."
"Why?"
"Because I like it. Anyway, about two minutes into the song we make the lights go out, and you appear as a scary tree man and go wild—without injuring anyone, of course."
"Okay, but I think your form is scarier."
Layla rolled her eyes. "Don't flatter me."
When it was time to visit the DJ, Layla led the way out of the kitchen and into the living room, trying her best to avoid the reckless dancers. With the music blaring, she had to slip the DJ a piece of paper with her written song of choice on it. He read it and nodded, raising a finger, signaling that he would play her request after one more song.
Layla and the Shadowman waited near the staircase in the foyer. The next song that played was slower and less painful to the ears, and some people broke away from the crowd to chat instead of dance, unfortunately joining them in the entrance hall. Layla brushed the feeling of annoyance aside, reminding herself that people wouldn't be sticking around here for long.
Once the song ended and the remix of Scandroid's cover of Thriller by Fury Weekend began, Layla looked at the Shadowman and smirked, and he smirked back.
"Damn, looking hot!"
A tall, brawny boy was approaching them, followed by two shorter boys, all three sporting painted skeletal faces and torn clothes sprayed with fake blood. Embarrassment washed over Layla as people looked at her. She recognized the tallest guy, Owen Torres, who was in Connor's wrestling class and had never spoken to her before, but she'd been told he was a bully.
"It's Leah, right?" Owen said.
"Layla," she corrected.
"Layla," Owen repeated, sweeping his tongue over his upper lip in thought, and his gaze fell on the Shadowman. "What are you supposed to be, Stevens? A twink?"
Owen and his friends laughed like hyenas, drawing more attention from the surrounding teens. Layla and the Shadowman exchanged a glance, a knowing look.
"Actually," the Shadowman said, "I'm your worst nightmare."
Owen and his friends oohed. He took a step toward the Shadowman, looming over him, a smug on his gaunt face.
"You wanna prove it, Stevens?" he said.
"Yeah."
Owen pushed him, causing several people in close quarters to separate. "Come on, show us what you got!"
The second he tried to give another push, the Shadowman caught his arm and twisted it, and Owen screamed. He didn't have time to retaliate, as Owen was then flipped onto his back with a thud that knocked the air out of his lungs. Sounds of surprise, along with a few cheers, erupted among the small crowd that surrounded them as the Shadowman pinned the bigger boy down, looking at no one but him.
Between the music and voices, Layla couldn't hear what was being said, but then Owen squirmed out from underneath the Shadowman, begging for his life. He scrambled to his feet and bolted, shoving open one of the the front doors and fleeing the house. His friends looked at each other and then at the Shadowman, bewildered, and they left to catch up with their leader.
The Shadowman got up and brushed himself off, disregarding the stares from the curious teens who had witnessed the short-lived brawl. He looked at Layla, smiling all coy. She covered her mouth to stifle a laugh, knowing what he must've had done to scare Owen out of his wits, and she took his hand.
"Let's go somewhere quieter!" she said, over the noise.
Some people were hanging around on the second floor, but the third was empty. Layla picked a random room in which to talk to the Shadowman—a bedroom. She felt the wall for a switch plate and flipped on the lights, and she closed the door, giggling.
"That was perfect!" she said. "They have no idea."
"Except that kid," the Shadowman said.
"Owen?" Layla said. "Nobody will believe him." She stepped away from the door, a smile playing on her lips. "Or will they?"
"Do you really want me to do it?"
"I do."
"And what about you?"
"I'll be watching, enjoying the show."
The Shadowman huffed. "That isn't fair. I'm doing all the work."
"Well, I am the Queen of Darkness, and I order you to make this a night that no one will forget."
The Shadowman shrugged and bowed, half-smiling. "Your wish is my command."
The door swung open, and a pair of hormonal teenagers barged in and tore away from each other upon seeing Layla and the Shadowman. The girl covered her half unzipped, provocative costume.
"Whoa," the boy said, breathless and hair a mess. "Didn't know this room was taken, sorry."
"Oh, it isn't," Layla said. "We were just leaving." She exited the bedroom with the Shadowman, but she threw them a glance on her way out. "Have fun."
She closed the door before they could react.
Halfway down the last flight of stairs, the Shadowman disappeared. Layla suspected he was preparing, and she continued, returning to the party.
The lights went out and the music stopped, causing sounds of shock and concern to spread. Layla grinned to herself. The house was lit up again, no thanks to the backup generator, but it was just as quickly snuffed out.
A low growl permeated the room and silenced everyone. People were looking around, confused and frightened, phones flashing around in search of a source. The lights bounced off the Shadowman, who had taken form, a dark beacon of terror in the middle of a sea of people, and screams ensued.
But nobody ran. Everyone stood where they were, frozen in fear, watching the imposing beast before them.
"Whoa," a guy said, scanning the Shadowman with his phone's light. "Wait a second, that's a costume! Hey, Ben, this is awesome!"
Ben didn't respond.
"Ben?" the guy called.
"I-I don't know who that is," Ben said, barely audible.
The Shadowman assumed a predatory stance and moved forward, and people cleared way. He was approaching Layla.
Layla remained still, wondering what he was doing. This wasn't part of the plan.
As the Shadowman came to tower over her, he straightened up, gazing down at her. The strobe lights flashed on and the speakers were blasting again, the sudden, thundering sound giving her a jolt. He held out a hand, as if he were asking her to dance, and she died inside.
"Are you serious!" Layla shouted. "I am not dancing with you!"
He wagged a finger at her, disapproving of her refusal, and he scooped her up and carried her over his shoulder. Layla kicked her legs and yelled at him, demanding to be put down, but the Shadowman ignored her and proceeded to push through the French doors. He didn't oblige until they were out of sight, hidden behind some trees and cars parked on the side of the road. Nobody had dared to follow them—or maybe they had been locked inside for the time being.
Layla glared at the Shadowman, arms crossed, as his body unraveled in shadowy threads, revealing his Connor form.
"Why did you do that?" Layla asked. "You were supposed to scare everyone. Now, they all probably think you were just some guy in a costume. What am I going to tell everyone at school tomorrow?"
"That I, the Shadowman, wanted to dance with you, the Shadowoman, but you said no."
"Oh my god," Layla said, and stormed off.
"Hey, come on," the Shadowman said, catching up with her. "That was fun."
"For you, maybe."
"Layla, hey," he said, and grabbed her shoulder, forcing her to stop and turn around. "Look, I'm sorry. We still have a couple hours left before you have to go home. Are you going to spend them being mad at me?"
Layla wanted to say yes. She'd been humiliated and wasn't looking forward to being the center of unwanted attention in school. She'd never desired the spotlight, but now one was shining on her.
"I don't know," Layla said. "I don't want to be mad, I just—I don't know what I'm going to do about tomorrow. I should go home."
Layla didn't give the Shadowman a chance to respond, letting the darkness carry her home. She regretted having left him like that—it stung.
Rematerialized before the front porch, Layla climbed the steps and rang the doorbell. Her mother answered the door with a half-empty bowl of candy.
"You're home early," Mom said, holding the door open for her daughter. "Where's Connor?"
Layla went inside. "He wasn't feeling well, so I left."
"Is everything all right?"
"Yeah."
Layla headed to her room, shut the door, and fell back on her bed with a sigh. She didn't bother switching on the lights, instead looking at her phone. She dreaded searching for videos of the Shadowman and her. The last thing she wanted was to go viral.
She forced herself to put her phone down and got up, intending to clean her face of makeup and scrub away the residue of tonight with a much-needed shower. Maybe she would feel a little better. Maybe the prospect of trending wouldn't be such a big deal and would pass quickly.
After a good wash and blow-dry, Layla lied in bed, but she couldn't sleep. She was thinking of the Shadowman and how she'd acted, wishing she hadn't abandoned him. Where was he, she wondered? If he didn't show up by midnight, she'd go looking for him.
No, she couldn't wait. She needed to look for him now.
Layla threw the covers off her and swung her legs over the bed, about to switch on the nightstand lamp when a presence manifested in her room.
"Hey," the Shadowman said.
Layla's stomach twisted with guilt.
"Hey," she said.
"Want to know something weird that happened to me at the party?"
"What?"
The Shadowman's footsteps sounded toward her.
"When I wasn't Connor, and the lights hit me, they didn't hurt."
"Really? Shit, I didn't think any lights would be powerful enough."
The spot next to her on the bed sank as the Shadowman sat down.
"When I'm not Connor, I'm vulnerable," he said. "But not anymore."
"You could've been hurt," Layla said. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to overreact like that."
The Shadowman wrapped an arm around her. "It's okay, I get it."
Layla rested her head against his shoulder. As they sat together in the dark, in warm, comforting silence, her eyelids grew heavy, and soon she was giving way to sleep.