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The Shadow Reader

(The first book in the McKenzie Lewis series)

A novel by Sandy Williams

For Trey. Thank you for putting up with me . . .

even when I’m “too much. ”

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

My writing would have forever remained buried on my computer if it weren’t for the support of some amazing people. First and foremost, my husband, Trey, who believed in me before I believed in myself. I couldn’t have done this without you. And to my friends and family: thank you for not thinking I’m crazy when I spontaneously drop everything to run and grab my notebook.

A special thank-you goes out to my beta readers, David Bridger, Tina Everitt, Katee Robert, Shelli Richard, and especially Reneé Sweet, who has been this book’s number one fan from the very beginning. I’d also like to thank two people who made this story the best it could be: my agent, Joanna Volpe, for being awesome from the very beginning, and my editor, Kat Sherbo, whose wisdom and editing prowess have truly amazed me.

ONE

MY SKIN TINGLES a moment before a slash of white light flashes at the front of the lecture hall. I grit my teeth and keep my eyes locked on my scantron, refusing to acknowledge the fae entering my world through that fissure. I don’t give a damn if it’s the king himself; I will pass this test tonight.

I darken in C on my answer sheet and then read the next question.

“McKenzie. ”

It’s Kyol. Of course the Court would send him.

“McKenzie,” he says. “We must go. ” No one else can hear or see him even though he towers over my professor, who stands less than two feet to his left. All the other students remain bowed over their desks, completely focused on their final exams. I grip my pencil and bubble in another circle.

The fae climbs the steps to my fifth-row seat. Still not meeting his eyes, I shake my head. I told him—I told all of them—not to call on me this week, but none of the fae understand why I need this degree, not when the Court takes care of all my needs. I tried to explain I’m human.

I have human dreams and need a human life, and it shouldn’t take anyone eight years to earn a bachelor of arts in English. They hadn’t listened. At least, Kyol hadn’t.

Not now! I want to scream, but even the softest whisper will disturb the quiet in the lecture hall. I stare down at my exam, letting my long hair brush the top of my desk. It forms a brown curtain, cutting off my view of Kyol as I reread question ten. The Court’s war can wait until I finish.

Kyol lays a hand on my shoulder, and a pleasant warmth expands beneath the thin strap of my purple cami. If we were alone, I’d lean into his touch, soak in his heat, his scent—soak in him—but not here, not now, in the middle of a test I have to pass. I shift, trying to get away. When his hand remains, I slam my fist down on my desk.

My classmates turn their heads to stare and Dr. Embry frowns. Fantastic.

“Number ten,” I say with a nervous laugh. “It’s a doozy. ” It isn’t. It’s on the works of C. S. Lewis. Easy. I bubble in A.

Kyol pulls on my shoulder and I squirm again. There’s no way in hell I’m flunking this course a third time. I need it to graduate, and I don’t care if Kyol drops his invisibility in front of all my classmates; my ass isn’t budging until I finish my test and triple-check my answers.