Read Lost in Shadow (A Shadow Walkers Ghost Novel) Online
Authors: Cynthia Luhrs
Lost in Shadow (A Shadow Walkers Ghost Novel)
A Shadow Walkers Novel
Book 1
Cynthia Luhrs
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Lost in Shadow, A Shadow Walkers Novel
Copyright © 2013 by Cynthia Luhrs
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.
Lost In Shadow
A Shadow Walkers Novel – Book One
We were wrong…ghosts are frighteningly real. For centuries a war has been raging between light and shadow. Shadow Walker pitted against Day Walker, threatening to plunge the world into darkness. Colin, an ancient warrior who lost hope long ago, prowls the streets of Edinburgh, eviscerating those who prey on humanity.
Emily possesses the ability to see beyond our realm into the dangerous realms of Light and Shadow. Unwittingly drawn into the shadows when she intervenes to help Colin, igniting his long-buried desires, she unleashes a terrible curse. Now with a week to break the curse, time is running out as they are locked in a deadly fight with forces that will stop at nothing to destroy them before they succeed.
Intensely romantic and thrilling, Lost in Shadow portrays the struggle between redemption and retribution.
For my Mom, you’ve always supported my dreams and believed in me.
For Vakesia, who helped make this book possible. My biggest cheerleader. I couldn’t have done it without you.
Thanks to my fabulous editor, Eric Orloff at Editing for Authors. Gorgeous cover designed by Derek Murphy of Creativindie Covers, and formatting by Polgarus Studio. You guys are amazing!
For Jennifer, Julie, Lauren, Victoria, and Wendy for always being there to listen.
Thank you all for your unwavering support, it means the world to me.
I’ve taken liberty with Edinburgh, slightly changing places and geography to fit my story. Not to mention I split England and Scotland by water. Although the Nor Loch was filled in during the 19th century, I thought the name was perfect, could visualize the water along the imposing castle and I didn’t want it to be forgotten. I also added the secret tunnels although ‘tis rumored they exist. The area around the Leith docks is mainly an industrial area. I’ve made it into more of an entertainment district with the flavor of a seedy dockside environment. Haviland china didn’t come into existence until the late 1800s but a set I was admiring fit the pirate’s dining room so I’ve played with history. After all, it’s fun to take liberties with history. All mistakes are my own.
Thank you to my wonderful fans for believing in me and loving the Shadow Walker world as much as I do. You guys rock!
1644
Edinburgh, Scotland
Upon waking that dismal, cold morning, Colin had no bloody clue it would be his last, and it wouldn’t be from the damn plague sweeping across the land.
Hearing footsteps, he lifted his head, the small braids on either side of his temple hanging limply, falling forward into his eyes as his brother approached. “Hamish, what are ye doing here? How did ye get past the guards? T’isn’t safe.”
“Smuggling? What in the hell were ye thinking, smuggling whisky? Thank the gods our parents have passed. They’d be rolling over in their graves at the dishonor ye brought on our family.”
Colin watched Hamish flick lint off his ridiculous velvet jacket before his brother finally deigned to turn and face him. He couldn’t move chained to the rough stone wall in the dank, reeking dungeon of Edinburgh Castle, otherwise he’d wipe the look of disgust off Hamish’s face. He surmised he didn’t look like the heir apparent today.
With nostrils pinched and a disdainful sniff, Hamish looked into the cell. “Bloody cold in here. Looks like there are rats in the straw. Manacled like the common criminal ye’ve turned into. Appalling. Not very commodious accommodations for a baron, brother.”
Green eyes blazing, he thundered, “Why. Are. Ye. Here? You’re supposed to be guarding Abigail.”
Hamish regarded his brother dispassionately, “Yes, I guarded your loving fiancée quite well this morn as she woke perfectly content in my bed. I say, she is quite the tasty wench. I may not have conquered and killed my way across the continent but seems the ladies find me favorable.”
Lashing out against the shackles, the lacerations he’d sustained broke open again as blood trickled down his chest. He snarled as Hamish took a few steps back, “How could my own flesh and blood betray me thus? Ye and Abigail? Of all the women in Scotland, you had to steal mine? The treacherous wench. I should have known that social-climbing bitch in heat would slither up to anything with a prick and gold to spend. Ye deserve each other. Step away from me
brother
, if I get my hands on you, I will show you no mercy when I kill you where you stand. Why did ye do it?” Colin spat.
Hamish’s hand shook as he fiddled with the lace collar of his shirt. But he didn’t answer.
Filled with fury over Hamish’s confession, Colin’s thoughts slid around his brain. Couldn’t believe he’d been caught.
Everything had been meticulously planned; his men would go to their death before betraying him. He didn’t understand how that bastard Huntington, Captain Rawlins Huntington of the Redcoats to be exact, had found him.
Using the Vaults was genius. Not to mention Colin’s castle had secret passages leading to a hidden cove where a small ship could dock unseen while the whisky was loaded. Smuggling whisky was a verra profitable business; keeping his snooty, spoiled ass of a brother in lace and frocks, as well as paying for much needed maintenance and repairs to the castle. My god, Hamish looked like some damned peacock strutting back and forth; Colin’s eye twitched with every flouncing turn.
Frowning at Hamish, an ugly thought worked its way into his battered brain. Hamish had betrayed him with Abigail so it made sense he was the one who gave them up to the English Captain. Colin’s heart shriveled, turning black, curling in on itself. They were all each other had left in this world. He would never forgive this treachery. Shaking his head to clear it, he studied Hamish.
“Ye never answered me brother,” Colin growled in a silky, low, menacing tone. Pulling against the manacles he lunged at Hamish.
Hamish leaned nonchalantly against the wall. At slightly under six feet, he was shorter than Colin by five inches with a lean build and the same chestnut hair and green eyes. Anyone could easily see they were brothers.
Swaggering over to Colin, careful to stay out of his reach, Hamish cocked his head to the side and stated, “I thought ye were the smart one. Haven’t ye figured it out yet, brother mine?”
Voice cracking with emotion, Colin sounded defeated for the first time in his life. “Ye. Betrayed. Me. With my fiancé. Ye. Betrayed. Me. To the bloody buggering English.”
“Aye brother, I gave Captain Huntington your location. Ye really think I didn’t know what was happening? Your men will hang in the morn. Criminals—the lot of them. By the way, the reward was a bonus. ‘Twill be a nice addition to the family fortune. God knows I’ll need it the way Abigail spends my gold. With you out of the way, I plan to enjoy the rest of my days squandering the family fortune on drink, gambling, and bedding Abigail.” Hamish frowned, glancing at his sodden, ruined boots before looking back up at his brother.
“You may have sent your enemies cowering back to their tents simply by taking the field of battle, never defeated—yet I, never having faced combat, managed to ensnare you. I relish this defeat of the mighty Baron Campbell. Where’s your precious code of honor now, dearest brother?”
Thigh muscles rippling as he strained against his chains, Colin was gratified to hear one of the bolts scraping against stone. If he could pry one loose, he’d have a fighting chance of escape before the English hanged him.
“Look
brother
, the world’s a harsh, brutal place. It’s time I have the title, the fortune, and the lass. It’s too bad ye’ll be dead and won’t be able to do a blasted thing about it.” Hamish yawned, pulling a dagger from his boot.
In a deadpan, flat tone, Hamish continued, “I have hated ye since we were seven and father said ye were his favorite. Ye think his fall down the stairs when I was thirteen was an accident? I pushed the bastard. He never treated me as anything other than second best to ye. And mother. Oh yes, I poisoned her for loving ye more than me. I was the ‘spare heir,’ nothing more to them. All of ye sodding idiots thought she’d died of natural causes.”
By the gods, with this reprehensible confession his brother had gone stark raving mad. Struggling to break free, blood coursed in fresh rivulets down his muscled body tearing wounds the English had bestowed upon him when they’d tortured him. The gut-wrenching pain was nothing compared to the unbearable ache ripping through his soul at the knowledge his own brother had murdered their loving parents. Colin couldn’t breathe, the agonizing pain of their loss hitting him again after so many years, crashing over him in waves.
“Go ahead ye cowardly, craven bastard,” Colin roared.
Straining, veins bulging in his arms and neck, Colin ground out, “Fucking strutting peacock, ye can’t even fight me like a man. Ye come at me to kill me when I’m chained to a bloody wall? I. Curse. Ye. I. Curse. Abigail. May ye both rot in hell with nary a day of peace for the rest of your miserable lives. Well, go on then, do it.”
Colin didn’t flinch as his brother came running towards him, dagger held out straight in front—tensing, he waited for the blow. The blade glanced off, carving a bloody ribbon across his chest.
“That all ye’ve got? Ye wouldn’t last a minute in battle, the English would rip you to bloody shreds.” Colin taunted his brother. He knew how tough and resisting skin was, it wasn’t easy to stab someone.
Hamish’s eyes were round with fear. Colin watched him wrap both hands around the dagger, cock his arms back ramming the blade into Colin’s chest