Lost in Shadow (A Shadow Walkers Ghost Novel) (22 page)

“Yes…I learned to shoot when I was five,” she stuttered.

“Safety’s on, gun loaded. Shoot to kill. It’s after sunset, the Day Walkers will be weakened. Hitting us after dark, they must be desperate.”

Getting out of the car, he hit the door locks, striding to the Rover as four men jumped out. Colin didn’t know whether to be relieved they weren’t Day Walkers and this wouldn’t take long or offended that only minions had been sent after him.

Throwing his dagger at the first man, he caught him in the throat, dropping him by the still-open SUV door. The second dove for cover in the vehicle. The other two hunkered down and started shooting. Pulling out his Glock, Colin dropped the guy crouching by the passenger door when he stood to fire, posing like he was some kind of cheesy action star. His cohort fired at Colin, the bullet grazing his upper arm and nicking his side before Colin reached the third man. Popping a blade out of the toe of his boot, he kicked up, catching the loser minion across the throat, blood soaking the white snow on the ground.

Now this is what sucked about killing minions, they didn’t disintegrate into dust, you had to clean up the mess or the authorities would start nosing around.

Grumbling, Colin opened the hatch to throw the bodies into the back of the Rover when he was kicked in the chest as the last coward jumped out of the SUV and started running. Must have been the guy who dove for cover when the shooting started. Easily catching the weasel, he decided to question him first.

Grabbing the minion by the neck, lifting him several feet in the air, the guy’s face was turning red, his feet ineffectually kicking, hands clawing at his throat.

“Stop. Tell me what I want to know and I’ll let you go.”

The man’s eyes were wild; he stank of fear and desperation. Prison tats covered his face and arms; Colin figured he had been somebody’s bitch on the inside by the way he cowered in the back of the Rover instead of fighting with his partners.

As the man motioned to his mouth, Colin eased his grip enough for the fool to speak. “Man, we was just following orders. Said to kill you and bring the girl back alive, that’s all I know, I swear.”

“Take Emily back to whom?” he demanded, squeezing the man’s throat for emphasis.

“Rawlins wants her. Said we better not touch a hair on her head. He didn’t tell us anything else.” Colin’s gut heaved. This
was
about Emily. Rawlins was indeed after her. Somehow he’d learned of her ability to see Walkers, putting her in danger. He swore, sending up a plea to the gods Emily had stayed in the Porsche with the doors locked. Before he could check on her, he had to finish dealing with this situation.

Hearing a sizzling sound, he looked down, seeing piss drip from the man’s pants, steam rising up from the warm stream hitting the snow. Disgusted, he threw him to the ground, wasn’t worth killing but if he didn’t, the loser would scurry back to tell Rawlins which would point the way to Ravensmore.

Breaking the man’s neck with one quick clean snap, he heaved him into the Rover with the others. Colin got in, thankful the keys were still in the ignition. He drove up the road a ways toward the cliffs, jumped out, stripping off his bloody clothes and throwing them into the back before he put his shoulder to the SUV and pushed…the vehicle went over the edge, tumbling end over end, hitting the rocks and exploding. By the time anyone investigated, the bodies would be burnt to cinders and it would be chalked up to an accident due to the weather conditions.

Jogging back to the car naked, dangly bits bouncing, he rapped on the window. “Emily, are ye all aright?”

She screamed, her face was pale as the moon on a winter night. “Colin! You’re naked—and bleeding, again. I heard gunshots…are we okay?”

Her teeth were chattering and peering closer at her, Colin could see her eyes looked glazed as she struggled to process what had happened. She was in shock. “The men won’t bother us again. I took my bloody clothes off to destroy them with the bodies. Had to be done. Roll the window back up. I need to change the tire and we’ll be on our way.”

Colin quickly replaced the flat, slipping in the snow, cursing as he worked. Finished, he opened the trunk, pulling on a change of clothes. He kept clothing stashed around his homes and cars in case he needed them on his death anniversary.

Tapping softly on the window so he wouldn’t scare her again; Emily looked out at him, her face blank. Popping the locks for him, her hands shook.

“What is it with men trying to kill you? I’ve never seen so many bodies, I feel like I’m in the middle of an action movie or maybe a horror flick.”

Starting the car, he put the heat on high to warm her and poured a cup of tea.

“Drink, Emily. Will help warm you.” Running a hand over his face, he exhaled hard, “I know it’s difficult to see. I’ve killed so many men over the centuries it doesn’t register. We are always at war, always fighting, I’m sorry you had to go through this. And yes, my clothes were spattered with blood, best to burn them.”

“Are you hurt? You’re covered in blood.”

“Aye, nicked me in the side and grazed my arm. ‘Twill be fine. Were you ogling my hot bod?”

“I’m so not going there. And I’m sure you think the wounds are minor, but I want to bandage them when we stop.”

“As you wish.”

The car was working hard against the deep snow. Colin downshifted, the car protesting as they pushed onward, almost there. The lights of Ravensmore blinked in the distance. The car came to a thudding stop at the outer wall; snow too high to drive through, the Porsche wasn’t a snowplow but a high-performance machine. Not meant to plow the damn stuff.

“We’ll have to walk from here.” The snow was knee deep and still coming down hard. They’d have a foot by morning.

Banging on the heavy wooden doors, Emily looked around at the forbidding castle.

“Wow, I’d hate to be the kid dared to ring your doorbell on a dark and stormy night. It’s a little scary, like the turrets are looming over us. I’m waiting for a wolf to howl or a raven to fly by.” Emily shivered as the wind blew through her jacket, ruffling her hair.

His breath caught. Emily looked like some ancient goddess set against the silvery light of the moon with the snow falling on her.

The doors opened. “Who’s there, banging away this time of night?”

Colin started seeing the old man in the doorway. Worthington had aged a great deal over the past few years. The butler had been born at Ravensmore, taking over once his father passed. It was lonely—always being the one left behind. Worthington peered through the fluffy flakes, scowl changing to a genuine smile when he spotted Colin.

“Ah Milord, come in out of the cold, we weren’t sure you were coming. Let me make sure your room is ready,” Worthington told them, frank curiosity on his face at seeing Emily. “Come in lass, warm yourself by the fire, you look ready to fall over. There is a visitor in the kitchen, a policeman from Edinburgh, named Monroe, unexpectedly arrived a few hours ago, looking for you and the lass, said he’d wait.” The butler stood nervously looking at Colin.

“A police officer is here? Whatever could he want?” He was puzzled. How did the cop even know who he was? He kept a low profile. What did he want with Emily? Maybe there was some clue that had come to light regarding their room being ransacked at the hotel or when her friend Kat was pushed—he doubted it as he suspected the cause of both—didn’t expect a mortal cop to know anything. He’d find out soon enough.

Meg came rushing in, fussing over them, “Oh dearies, ye look half dead. Come in to the kitchen and get warm. Worthington’s told ye about the visitor, has he? I made the lovely officer some tea. He’ll need to stay the night; the snow’s too deep to drive back to Edinburgh.”

Meg had taken care of him for years, worrying over him, she knew what he was, what he did, her family had taken care of his since the beginning. Her hair was gray, streaked with white. The lines on her face deeper than he remembered. He blew out a sigh, hated to see those he cared for age and die while he continued on, never changing.

“We’ll make sure the driveway is plowed in the morning so the officer can be on his way. Now let’s have some of your wonderful stew for dinner, there’s some left isn’t there?”

While Worthington took Emily’s bag upstairs and set about getting the rooms ready, Colin introduced Emily to Meg as the housekeeper fussed around them on the way to the kitchen.

Entering the large stone room, Emily looked around, “It feels so nice and warm in here. Oh wow, you could fit three people in the fireplace. The kitchen is very welcoming. I love the old farm table and chintz chairs, reminds me of home.”

“Och, ye know everyone ends up in the kitchen don’t they?” Meg tittered.

Emily returned to admiring the cozy kitchen, starting as she caught sight of Monroe hidden in shadow, sitting in a chair in the corner by the fire.

“Something smells delicious Meg. I’m starved. Officer Monroe. Isn’t this a lovely surprise. What brings you here; do you know Colin?” Emily turned on all of her considerable Southern charm as she watched his face. He looked angry.

Eyes narrowed, Monroe advanced, “Damn woman, I’ve been looking all over bloody Edinburgh for you, thought something had happened to you when you hadn’t been seen at your hotel for days. What’s going on?” Before Monroe could continue yelling at her, he found himself dumped in a chair, facing Colin.

“Speak to Emily in that tone again, and I’ll plant my fist in your face. Have a seat and by all means, explain what is going on.” Colin spoke in a low silky tone, every inch the imperious titled aristocracy. His blood was boiling, wanted to slug this cop hard, put him in his place, as a sense of protectiveness rolled over him, threatening to unleash the beast inside.

Before a fistfight broke out, Emily waded in, “Colin, Monroe, please, sit down. Meg has tea ready. We can all sit and talk like civilized human beings.” Meg bustled around the kitchen, setting out tea while she prepared dinner, spooning stew out of the cauldron bubbling over the fire. Seeing Emily’s look, she laughed, “No worries, dearie, we have modern appliances but there’s something about stew over a fire, brings out the flavor. Relax while I take out the bread—baked it this afternoon.”

“I think we could all use some wine. Might help with all the glaring.” Emily yawned.

“Shall I pour?” Emily and Monroe nodded as Colin served the wine. He wanted this meddling officer gone. Emily was emotionally and physically exhausted from the earlier events of the evening. Watching her, he was afraid she was still in shock, trying to process more men dying in front of her. She needed to eat, take a bath, and get a good night’s sleep. He glared at Monroe while Emily spoke to the officer.

“Monroe, it was a long drive here. I’m afraid I’m a bit out of sorts, not used to driving in snow so forgive me if I seem scattered. Thank you for coming all this way. Does this mean you have a lead on our hotel room or Kat’s accident? By the way, how did you find me? I’m sorry for causing any concern; I didn’t realize anyone would be looking for me. I’ve spoken with Kat. She’s home and healing nicely,” She babbled.

A stern look on his face, Monroe took her questions one at a time while he watched Colin. “It’s rather strange Baron Campbell, but there isn’t much information on you.”

“I prefer a quiet life. Rather a bit of a recluse I suppose.”

Emily choked on her wine, coughing as Colin pounded her on the back. He shot her a stern look before turning his attention back to the cop.

“Right, whatever you say. Emily, the hotel said your room is paid for through the week. I was assured your room and belongings are fine and there have been no further issues. We’re looking into the incident at the hotel but no, we don’t have anything new at this time.”

“I’m very sorry, it was, er, um…spontaneous.” She shrugged, widening her eyes, gesturing with her hands as if to look innocent.

“I don’t have anything specific, but I have to wonder why you are being targeted. You are a visitor here; don’t know anyone, so why would someone target you and your friend Kat? Unless there is some kind of connection to the missing persons and murders taking place in Edinburgh. Would you know anything about that, Lord Campbell?” Monroe said the last with distaste.

“I believe
you
are the officer here. How would I know what is happening to missing persons? Wouldn’t that be the purview of the police department?” Colin sprawled in the comfy kitchen chair. Interesting. The officer didn’t care for aristocrats, looked at him like he was some rich, idle bastard. If only he knew.

Ignoring Colin’s reply, Monroe addressed Emily. “As to how I found you, I asked around and someone finally remembered seeing you both board a ship, a very distinctive ship. I checked the ports of call and in Inverness, found a waitress who overheard you both talking about coming to Ravensmore, so here I am. By the way. Why…Lord Campbell do you carry daggers? Do you feel a need to be armed?”

Colin interjected before Emily could answer. “One never knows what might happen, I prefer to be prepared for anything. The country roads can be treacherous.”

The officer continued with his line of questioning. “Want to tell me how you two know each other and what’s going on?”

As to Emily, we met in Edinburgh. What’s going on is really none of your concern.” Colin retorted, crossing his arms over his chest.
Cheeky Bastard.

Before Monroe could retort, Meg asked if they wanted to eat in the dining room. Colin started to say yes, but upon seeing how tired and spent Emily looked, he didn’t want to make her move. He was afraid she’d fall asleep in her dinner as it was. “No, we’ll stay put, we’re all comfortable.”

Meg quickly set the table, bringing the food over. Emily’s stomach growled loudly as Colin cut his eyes to her. “Now I see why you needed so many road trip snacks. Your stomach is always hungry. Are you sure you don’t have a tapeworm?”

Pointing her nose in the air, she put on an affected air, telling him in a falsetto voice, “Dahling, we southern women—our stomachs do not growl, we do not sweat, we glisten, and we never utter any other bodily noises.” Cringing in mock horror, a tired smile crossed her face.