Harlequin Nocturne March 2014 Bundle: Shadowmaster\Running with Wolves (28 page)

A violent shudder shook her.

He grabbed her arm. “This way,” he snarled through a clenched jaw, and pushed her into the alley.

Fear, white-hot and molten, surged through her. She forgot her fighting stance, forgot every move she'd ever learned as her brain flooded with adrenaline. “Let me go!” She screamed, pulling and twisting, trying to break free from his grasp. But he was too strong.

He continued to push her forward, toward the large black van parked at the end of the alley. And she knew once they reached that van, once he got her inside, no one would ever see her again.

“Please,” she cried and pried at his fingers, trying to loosen his grip on her arm.

“You heard the lady. Let her go.”

The calm voice surprised and confused her. She looked up and saw the man from the store. Her knight in shining armor with the warrior hands stood not four feet away, watching them. Relief filled her, weakening her knees to the point she wasn't sure she could continue to stand. She tried to pull free once more, but the crazy loon still wouldn't loosen his grip.

What was wrong with him? There was a witness. Someone to help her.

Her rescuer set down his bag, took off his brown leather jacket and laid it neatly across the bag so it didn't touch the ground.

As if in a dream, she watched him, unable to comprehend what was happening. All she knew was that she no longer felt so afraid.

“You should do as she says,” he said, walking toward them, and planting one of his hands on her attacker's shoulder and squeezing.

She looked up at the man still holding her arm and could see the fear and anger surrounding him; it puffed up as a red cloud within the muddy darkness. Without looking at her, he dropped her arm, shrugged out of her savior's grasp, turned and walked away. As if he'd never stopped, as if he'd never touched her.

Shay stared after him, astonished.

“Does that happen to you often?”

She turned back to the man from the store, blinking. “No, but it's been happening more frequently lately.” That man wasn't the first person with a black aura to take an unusual interest in her. But he was the first one who'd ever touched her. “Thanks for coming to my rescue.”

“I was actually looking for that real-estate office you told me about. Luckily, I couldn't find it.”

Luckily for her, but she might not be so lucky the next time. And somehow she knew there would be a next time. And like this time, she wouldn't be able to handle it alone. “How long did you say you'd be in town?”

“Hard to say. Anywhere from four to eight weeks, depending on how quickly I can get the job done. Why, have you thought of someplace?”

“It's not much and it's been sitting empty for a while, but I sure could use the money.”

“No lease?”

She smiled. “No lease.”

“Great. I can pay you by the week.”

“Sounds fair. But don't you want to see it first? Then we can discuss price.”

“Sure, should I drive? My truck's right down the street.”

She looked toward his truck and shook her head. Her nerves were still too shaky to get into a stranger's vehicle. And yet, here she was taking him to her home. But for a reason she didn't understand, she trusted him. It had to be his aura, the warm vibrant colors surrounding him, so different from the muddy dark aura of her attacker.

“I really could use the fresh air, if you don't mind. It's not a far walk.”

He gestured forward with an easy smile that immediately set her at ease. “Lead the way.”

She took a step forward then stopped, turned back to him and held out her hand. “I'm Shay. Shay Mallory.”

His large grasp enveloped her small hand, surprising her with its warmth. “Jason Stratton.”

She turned and, for a moment, felt a prick of fear as she led him toward her home. An absolute certainty that everything was about to change.

Chapter 2

J
ason was more than a little surprised when the woman offered her apartment so quickly. He wondered how long she'd been attracting the
Abatu,
men so lost and confused that it was easy for a demon to hitch a ride. Those types of lost souls were scary and bothersome, but were easily deterred. What would be worse was if the
Gauliacho,
higher-formed demons from the other side, found her. And from what he could tell, it wouldn't be long now until they did.

They crossed Highway 1 and started up the gravel road in silence. Shay couldn't have started her transformation too long ago. She wore dark glasses even though the day was overcast, so she could definitely see the colors. And he was fairly certain she was hearing the buzzing, too. Soon she'd be seeing and feeling a lot more. Her scent and the vibrations she exuded were strong, making it relatively easy for him to find her. Unfortunately, it also made her an easy target for the
Abatu.

But what concerned him more was how little she seemed to know about herself. Her dad, Dean, would have made sure she'd been properly trained. And yet, she'd been genuinely afraid of the
Abatu
when she could have taken him in an instant. She was strong enough. She just didn't seem to know it. Had Dean died before he had the chance to teach her what she needed to know? His stomach clenched at the thought. He hoped not.

They mounted the slight incline following a worn gravel road. Jason watched the gentle sway of her hips. Her snug shorts hugged her form nicely and showed off her long, strong legs. She was quite the beauty, and he had a feeling she didn't know that, either. She had her mother's bright blue, almost violet eyes. The effect of their deep color along with her long black hair was stunning. Her wide generous mouth drew his attention. On her mother, Lily, those lips had been easy to break into a smile, but on Shay, he wasn't so sure.

She didn't seem to have Lily's carefree easiness about her. It was that, coupled with Lily's bright smile, that had captured Dean's heart and refused to let go. A pang of regret thudded through Jason for his old friend. Dean had been foolish enough to break all the rules, fall in love with a human and then get her pregnant. For that, they had all paid the price. Maggie's smiling face and bright eyes slipped into Jason's thoughts. He quickly pushed them back out, but still felt the sharp ache of his wife's loss. He looked back at Shay and focused on her.

Dean's daughter. What had her life been like? He wished she could have grown up in The Colony, but half-breeds weren't allowed in the pack. They couldn't take the chance. Once the half-breeds were old enough, some would turn, some wouldn't. And if they didn't, the pack couldn't chance having humans living at The Colony, chance being exposed to the rest of the world.

It was one of the pack's oldest rules and one he still hadn't come to terms with. Family was family, human or not. Dean and Lily had been forced out on their own. A wolf living outside the protection of the pack didn't stand a chance. And now it was Shay's turn. She was changing, and soon her transformation would be complete.

As they walked silently through the woods, he considered asking her about her mother, but she didn't seem to be the type for mindless chitchat. Nor was she completely comfortable with him. He could tell by the subtle pinching of her lips that she was second-guessing her decision to invite him back to her home.

But whether she knew it or not, she needed him and fortunately she seemed to sense that. He wouldn't have long to convince her that she had to come with him to The Colony. He only hoped Dean or her mother had told her about them, about what she was, and prepared her for what was about to happen to her.

Shay stopped and picked up a large pinecone, twisting it this way and that. She was a beauty, every part of her from her slim graceful form, to her long black hair. Yes, Malcolm would be very pleased. For a second he felt a pinch of envy but quickly pushed it away. This she-wolf was for Malcolm. Her bloodline would ensure his continued leadership of the pack and silence those grumbling against him once and for all. Now that she was turning, all Jason had to do was get her to The Colony safely. Get her to Malcolm and let him deal with the fallout.

But to do that, he needed her cooperation. And he'd need it soon. As a small white clapboard house came into view, a large dog bolted through the trees toward them, breaking through the brush.

Shay stiffened beside him. “I hope you like dogs—”

Before she could finish, the dog, more wolf than Siberian husky, burst through the trees then skidded to a stop in front of them. It stared at Jason, its head cocked sideways, its large brown eyes studying him before it dropped whimpering to the ground. He lifted his massive front paw, up and down, up and down, as small little whimpers issued from his throat.

“Buddy?” Shay asked as she dropped to the ground next to her dog. “What's wrong, boy?”

Jason crouched next to them and rubbed the dog's brown-and-white head, letting him know he wasn't a threat to the animal.

“I have never seen him act like that before.” Shay brushed the fur on the top of his dark ears. “Buddy, it's okay. This is Jason.”

Jason gave the dog a pat on the shoulder then stood. As he did, Buddy stood, too, all his anxiety gone as his large tail beat the back of Jason's legs.

“Don't worry,” Jason said. “Dogs like me.”

“I guess so,” she said, though she looked doubtful.

She was staring at him openly now, trying to figure him out. She could stare all she wanted, but in the long run, she wasn't going to like what he had to tell her. About him. About her parents. About herself. She pulled her arm back and chucked the pinecone, sending it soaring through the air. At full speed, Buddy took off after it. When they reached the house, they found Buddy sitting on the porch, the pinecone mangled between his paws.

Jason was mildly surprised not to sense anyone else inside. “Do you live here by yourself?”

“Yes. There's a small apartment above the garage. I haven't been in there in a while. It will probably need some dusting.”

“I'm sure it will be fine,” he answered automatically, and wondered where her mother was. If perhaps she was in another home nearby. He'd like to know how Lily had fared all these years without Dean. If she'd found happiness.

Or if, like him, she was more comfortable alone, preferring not to remember their past.

They walked toward the garage separated from the house by a small covered walkway and went up the stairs. He tried not to watch Shay's backside as she climbed the steps, tried very hard, but she offered such a nice view. He hung back as she opened the door and walked in.

Shay gasped as she stood in the doorway, her hand fluttering to her throat. Alarmed, Jason stepped past her into the room and stilled. Buddy, who had followed behind him, whined, turned and ran back down the stairs.

Jason stared wide-eyed at the large cracks fissuring the walls facing the house. They left long gaping fractures in the Sheetrock.

“I am so sorry,” Shay said, walking farther into the room. “We live on a fault line that has been extremely active lately. I've been having the same problem in the house. I just bought more Spackle today.” She lifted her tote bag. “I'll take care of these right away.”

Jason stiffened, trying not to show his reaction to the voices whispering behind the walls and echoing through his head. The
Gauliacho.
Couldn't she hear them, too? No. Not yet. But they made her uncomfortable. As they should. These weren't simple cracks. These were openings, gateways to the other side. Soon they would be wide enough that no amount of Spackle in the world would be able to stop
them
from coming.

He couldn't stay there. And neither could she. Not another day longer.

* * *

Shay stared in horror at the cracks shredding the wall of the apartment. They were much bigger than the ones in her house. These ones were almost big enough to see through, but instead of wisps of pink insulation or even a glimmer of studs behind the Sheetrock, all she could see was darkness. She inched forward, clutching the Spackle in her hand, but as she took that first step, fear, unreasonable and unexpected, swept through her. Whispers filled her mind, unrecognizable and yet somehow familiar.

She froze, her limbs stiff and unyielding as she listened harder, trying to grasp the sounds. Were they words? Yes. But how? Then the sounds became clearer, the syllables running together.

Abomination.

Fear strangled her throat, squeezing it within its fist to the point that she couldn't swallow, couldn't breathe.

Abomination. Abomination. Abomination.

Walls don't speak!
Dizziness swam through her and she faltered. She tried to breathe, to force open her mouth and gasp a breath, but she couldn't. The room spun, nausea roiled through her stomach. Darkness filled the edges of her vision. And then Jason was touching her, holding her arm. Steadying her. She turned to him, her mouth opening but emitting no sounds, the question burning in her eyes.

Do you hear it, too?

With a whoosh, her lungs filled with air. She gasped, quick shallow breaths. His aura was strong, bright. Chasing away the darkness as she hung on to him. He didn't say anything and an awkward silence lingered between them.

“I...uh...I'll have to fill the cracks before you can stay here,” she said, glancing back at the wall. “I'm afraid something in the walls is making me sick.”

Even the air felt off and it didn't smell right. It seemed darker somehow, bleaker, and the scent of sour earth filled her nose. What was happening to her? She must be coming down with something. Tea and perhaps a nap and she'd be right as rain, as her grandma used to say. “The insulation must be toxic,” she continued, muttering, babbling as she faltered again.

“It's going to be all right. I'll take care of you,” he said, and before she could respond or even contemplate his words, she was up in his arms, cradled against his warm chest. She didn't know if the whispering had stopped or if she was so consumed by his body heat, by his heady, earthy scent that she no longer heard the disturbing whispers. She breathed his scent deep, holding it within her, as if it alone could protect her from the darkness.

She didn't know why, but she no longer felt sick or scared. She nestled close to him as he carried her out of the apartment, down the stairs and into the yard before he set her back onto her feet. She stood there, leaning into him, her hands on his chest, feeling his warmth beneath the palms of her hands. She didn't want to let him go. But she had to. She didn't even know him.

Once she stepped away and was standing on her own, embarrassment took root and spread quickly through her. She had never been one of those needy women who couldn't take care of herself, who needed a man around her. And yet that was what had just happened.

“I'm so sorry about this.” She stammered, “I—I don't know what came over me.”

He looked down at her, smiling. Which made it even worse.

“I really should get these groceries in the fridge.” She patted the tote bag still slung over her shoulder then turned and quickly walked toward the house. After a second, she realized he wasn't following her. She turned back to him and found him standing in the same spot, staring after her, a look of concern on his face. Heat warmed her cheeks and quickened her already frayed nerves. “You want to come in for a cup of coffee?”

He nodded, an eager smile lifting his lips. “I think coffee would be a great idea.”

He was concerned about her. Why? He didn't even know her. She climbed the steps up her porch and hurried into the kitchen with Buddy close on her heels. She went right to the sink and busied herself filling the carafe of the coffeemaker with water. Still trying to determine what had just happened. She'd become so lightheaded, she'd almost fainted and this man, this stranger, had caught her in his more-than-capable arms and she hadn't wanted him to let her go. She sighed. To make matters worse, this man who had shifted her libido into overdrive was sitting at her kitchen table.

She tried not to think about that. Or about the fact that she felt so comfortable around him. Sometimes he looked at her as if he knew her. As if she knew him. Crazy. And the way she felt when he touched her... She had definitely never felt like that before—all tingly and aware. She glanced at him, sitting in one of her kitchen chairs, his long legs stretched out in front of him. He looked good there. He looked...comfortable.

Once the coffee began brewing, she put a kettle of tea on for herself. Jason stood and perused her pictures on the wall. Photos of herself with her parents back before Dad had died and everything had become so hard for them.

“Your mom and dad?” he asked. His words were casual, but there was nothing casual about the tension in his shoulders. Why was he looking at them like that?

“Yep,” she said and filled her grandmother's antique cream jar with milk and set it on the table with the matching sugar bowl. She used the set every day, trying to feel closer to her so she wouldn't miss her so much. Some days it worked; some days it didn't.

“Where do they live now?” Jason asked.

Was there more than idle curiosity in his voice?

“They aren't. Living, that is,” she said more harshly than she'd meant to.

Confusion wrinkled his forehead. “Oh. I didn't know. Sorry to hear that.” And he looked it, too. Much more than he should for someone who had no idea who she or her parents were.

Anxiety twisted through her as it hit her again that she'd invited a man she didn't know into her home. She was alone with a complete stranger. A too-good-to-be-true stranger.

And no one knew.

“I know what it's like to lose your family,” he said as sadness filled his eyes. “To be alone.”