Shadow Bound (7 page)

The elevator hissed downward, doors opening into the outer atrium to Jacob’s cell. Two guards stood sentry at the cell entrance, Ben and Thomas. Both had powerful, broad shoulders, thick necks, and muscular legs in command of quick reflexes. Except for their facial features and their coloring, one black and the other olive, they could have come from the same gene pool.

Takes two smart, strong, and trained men working in con-cert to bring down a wraith.

“I don’t want to be here. I want you to know that this is against my will.” Talia’s voice shook and she gripped the arms of the wheelchair.

While second nature to Adam, the security had to be overwhelming from Talia’s perspective. Adam had personally selected the guards, pored over the blueprint to Jacob’s cell, and debugged the security program that ran the system. These guards and the coded, locked doors weren’t just security,
they were the wraith reality. The sooner she got used to it, the better.

“I don’t want to be here either.” Jacob made Adam’s skin crawl and his chest ache, but the time for reservations was over. If he asked it of her, he could give her no less himself.

Adam nodded to the guards and coded the outer door to Jacob’s cell open. He angled Talia’s wheelchair inside and up to the main console, a white arc of work space fitted with security monitors, control panel, computer oversight, and speakers.

Adam tapped on a screen, set front and center. “That’s Jacob.” He swallowed hard. “My brother.”

Jacob lifted bonelessly to his feet, his movement a subtle and graceful contradiction of nature. White and clean, his junk waggling between his legs, he stepped up to his favorite camera.

“D’you bring me a treat, Adam?”

Talia recoiled from the console. She pushed out of her chair and backed to the wall.

Adam didn’t blame her. He didn’t even try to keep up a pretense of Jacob’s humanity anymore.

“He’s a wraith,” she said.

The room darkened perceptibly. Talia dissolved into a mottled haze of shadow. Jacob’s smiling face was in the monitor, seemingly unperturbed or unaware of the darkness falling on this side of the cell wall.

The guard’s hand went to his weapon, but Adam waved him down. “Just stay put and do nothing until I say otherwise.”

Adam knew this drill. The flight from Arizona had made him a quick study.

“Smells like a woman, Adam. You finally get yourself a girl?”

“Talia. Dr. O’Brien. Jacob can’t get out. You’re safe.” Adam
kept his voice calm and sure. “You saw my security measures. Each has a minimum of three redundant systems. I haven’t overlooked anything. I swear it to you.”

“You can live and work here? With
that
in your basement?” Her voice was breathy and uneven.

“You will, too.” He moved slowly forward.

The trick was to approach without confrontation. To reach her skin to skin. Then bring her out.

“Adam,” Jacob sang, making things worse. “Give her to me. I know just how to handle her. I have something very particular in mind.”

Adam took her by the shoulders and turned her body toward him. He slid his hands over her collar to her neck, then higher to cup her face, his hands on her bare skin.

His vision grew sharper, his senses more acute. Her skin was taut silk, the contrast of her bright hair and pale skin against half shadow, otherworldly.

He peered into her dark eyes and made damn sure that his were in her own line of sight, capturing her full attention. He didn’t expect the pull of physical connection that made him want to draw her closer. To cover her soft form with his body. To protect her.

She was so weak already. If he could have spared her all of this, he would have. But he had no choice.

She was already shaking her head. “Please let me go. I don’t want to feel…”

“Afraid? It’s natural to be afraid. Just don’t let yourself be overtaken by it.”

Talia’s gaze hardened. “My fear has kept me alive.”

“No. Your fear just prolonged the inevitable.” A hard truth. “You would’ve died in that alley.” A couple more hours in the heat would’ve done it, even if she’d managed to stay hidden from the wraith.

“So what? Now I owe you my life?” Her pulse raced under his fingertips. Patty was going to kill him.

He kept his voice steady, full of calm reason. He knew of all things she responded to reason. “I want you to hear me out. Come out of your fear and get a good look at what you’re afraid of.”

“Oh, come on, Adam.” Jacob leered into the camera. “You forgot my birthday. Just one little cupcake?”

“Take a good look, Talia. He is trapped in there. Starved for years and mad with it. And with your help, we are going to find a way to undo him.”

“She’d have to
do
me first, eh?” Jacob jeered.

“Talia, there’s no other place to go. Wraiths cover the country from coast to coast. I don’t know where you think you could hide. Here at least you could study them…”

“…like you want to study me?”

The accusation hit home, smart woman, but he knew that to confirm her suspicions was to lose her.

Talia shuddered under Adam’s hands. “I don’t know what you think I can do.”

“Near-death, Talia. And Shadowman.” He stroked her check again with his thumb. Had to. Would have drawn her into his arms if she’d let him.

Jacob screeched, high and shrill. He
thamp-thumped
on the cell wall.

Adam’s heart lurched at the sound, but he controlled himself. The cell would hold. It’d been designed to hold against anything. “You see, Talia? My brother fears one thing, and one thing only. All I have to do is say the name to terrorize him. The first time I tried to kill him—” the horrible memory slipped from the strongbox in Adam’s mind “—he said, no,
taunted,
that Shadowman couldn’t get him.” There’d been a lot of blood that day. And the smell—Adam packed
the memory away and concentrated on how it felt to hold Talia. Concentrated on hope to replace the misery. “Who is the source who met Shadowman?”

Jacob keened, high-pitched and pitiful.

Talia sobbed. “I don’t want to be part of this.”

“I’ll keep you safe. I swear it,” Adam pleaded. “Just tell me what you know so we can find out how to kill the wraiths.”

“I saw what that one did to Melanie.”

“And I saw what Jacob did to my parents.” The memory came anyway. The pain of their loss and the burgeoning horror of what Jacob had become.

“Please, I don’t want to feel this,” Talia said. She groaned and twisted to disengage him, but he would not let go. He had to make her understand.

“Jacob got to my…” Adam broke off. Pain sucked the air from his lungs. He took a deep breath. In and out, forcing himself to do what should be automatic. Just like the old days.

Adam tried again. “He got to my mom first. Killed her before we even knew what was happening. When Jacob went after my dad, I grabbed the fireplace poker. I was too late.”

Talia whimpered.

“But when he came after me, I hit him across the eyes. I was lucky. Wraiths still need their eyes to see. Once I blinded him, I trapped him in a concrete cellar on our property. Then I shot him.”

The gut-twisting, almost hysterical, fear of the time washed over Adam. The first time he’d turned the gun on his brother, the abrupt report, the smoking hole just left of center in Jacob’s forehead. If Adam’d had darkness to hide in, he would’ve very likely stayed there, too.

“I can still hear Jacob,
Shadowman can’t get me
. He killed our parents and made a game of it.”

“Must have been horrible. You loved them,” she said, her
face lined with grief. She’d stopped fighting and instead bowed her head, her forehead just grazing his chin. “The pain of their loss never goes away, does it? It’s always there, behind what you do. You keep going for them.”

So she did understand. “I have to. I can’t let go until this is over. Until Jacob is dead.”

“But it’s not my fight.”

She wanted the truth. He was going to let her have it. “It’s everyone’s fight, now. The world’s. Most just don’t know it yet. Besides, a researcher looks for answers, and if this isn’t the most practical application of your field of study, I don’t know what is.”

He dropped his arms in frustration. She leaned back onto the wall and faded into shadow.

“Why aren’t you afraid of me?” she asked. “I could be just as horrible as Jacob in there.”

Ah, a latent fear.
She was just as afraid of herself as she was of Jacob. That alone took her out of the threat cate-gory. In contrast, Jacob embraced his inner monster and relished it.

Adam sighed. “I doubt it. You are as set against wraiths as I am. You tried to save my life in the alley. You were nice to Patty even though you were mad at me. And here we are in my personal hell, and you hate it as much as I do. I think you’re safe. Further, I think we have a lot in common.”

“I don’t know what you think I can possibly do to help you.”

“Let’s find Shadowman,” Adam pressed. “He’s got answers for both of us.”

Jacob shrieked; Adam filled with hope. The key was right here, at last.

He reached out to her in the dark. Found the slope of her neck, the curve of her jaw, just where he had left it. The shadows bled away from his vision. Tears streaked down
Talia’s flushed cheeks. He needed to get her back in bed, and soon.

“Listen to him, Talia. Listen to Jacob.”

His brother whined in rocking rhythm, a small, scared sound.

“We can stop the wraiths together. My brother first. Come out of your shadows. Face him.”

“I don’t want this. Any of it.”

“Neither do I. When it’s all over, we’ll go on a nice, long vacation. Anywhere in the world.”

Her black eyes filled with tears. A moment passed.

“I’d like to live to see the pyramids,” she said, voice clogged with helpless fatigue.

“Egypt it is.”

“Maybe the Great Wall.” A fat drop slid down her cheek.

Adam laughed, wiping it away. “And China.”

“The Eiffel Tower?” An edge of her mouth tipped up, streaking more tears down her cheeks.

“Paris. At New Year’s, when the whole city is lit,” he promised. “Come out, Talia.”

The darkness dissipated. Jacob’s keens took on volume. Talia’s gaze was trained on the monitor, staring as Jacob bared inhuman jaws better suited to a shark or a piranha or a multifanged snake.

The guard gripped the counter for dear life, sweat running off the side of his face.

Talia trembled, dark eyes huge in a ghost face. “Where do we start?”

T
ALIA
went with the west-wing apartment, haunted with a view. She had managed two months on the run from wraiths. She could handle this.

She shut herself into her new place, anticipation of some kind of woo-woo event crawling over her skin like creepy spiders. Waiting, breath-bated and twitching at every noise (damn vent rattled every time the a/c came on) was agony until she succumbed to exhaustion.

The bedroom light overhead glared when she woke in the morning. Perspiration pricked at her forehead and dampened her neck under hot, heavy hair in need of a ponytail elastic. She disentangled herself from her twisted sheets and blindly padded out of the bedroom.

Mid-bleary-step, a
Ha!
exploded into her consciousness. Ghosts, indeed. The man clearly spent too much time with his brother. At the meeting scheduled that afternoon to introduce her to the other staff members, she’d let him know. The thought sent a thrill of satisfaction through her.

The living room looked much friendlier dominated by the growing light of day. A deep red square sofa faced a large flat-screen TV mounted on the wall over a working fireplace. Two chunks of wood lay in a woven basket on the floor, as if she weren’t hot enough. Tall bookcases flanked each side, mostly empty, though somebody had the dark humor to leave
The Shining
to keep her company on her first night in a haunted hotel. Yeah, real funny.

A buzz sounded at the front door.

Talia ran a hand through the tangles of her hair and straightened the tee to the sweats she’d slept in, wishing she’d gone to the bathroom first thing. Too late now.

She peered through the front door’s peephole. A woman’s face warped into view.

Talia opened the door, crossing her arms to cover her lack of a bra.

“Good morning,” the woman said. “I’m Gillian Powell. I’m one of the doctors on staff.” She held a bundle of clothes in blues and purples, a flash of look-at-me pink, topped with athletic shoes.

Dread pooled in Talia’s empty stomach.
Those better not be for me.

“Nice to meet you,” she said. “I’m Talia O’Brien.”

“I know. I’m so glad you’re here,” Gillian said. “It’s such a boys’ club at Segue. We’ve got Vera in the lab and Priya in research and, of course, Mama Pat, but that’s it.”

Gillian appeared to be in her middle forties and fighting each year. She was compact and overly busty, and wore enough foundation to disguise her true complexion, makeup applied with amazing and enviable precision.

Gillian stepped around Talia to dump the clothes on the sofa. “Anyway, Adam asked me to outfit you this morning for Wraith Defense.” She made a sour face. “Goody for you.”

Yeah. Goody.
Talia had hoped she’d have the morning to herself before the big introduction that afternoon. No such luck.

“I think I’ve got everything you’ll need.” Gillian glanced at Talia’s comparatively diminutive chest. “Sizing should be okay…mostly.”

Talia stalled. “Um. So what exactly is Wraith Defense?”

“Just the basics of how to defend yourself. Every month we are all required to drill, but we make a pretty lousy show of it. Most of us belong indoors, in a lab coat.”

Talia’s stomach growled. “What about breakfast? I haven’t had a chance to stock my kitchen.”

“Don’t bother. Marcie, Segue’s cook, is awesome. Just tell her what you like and she’ll get it. And that way, you don’t have to do dishes. I’ll show you on the way down.”

“Are you drilling today, too?” Talia reached for the clothes. The hot pink would
not
be going on her body.

“No. You, lucky girl, get a ménage à trois with Adam and Spencer.”

Great. Her puddle of dread deepened. “I’ll go change.”

Adam and another man, presumably Spencer, were sparring when Gillian led her outside to a stretch of fragrant grass near the buzzing, overgrown garden. The air was clingy, the sun still filtered by the trees.

Talia stopped short. Adam couldn’t possibly expect her to fight like
that.

Slim black padding protected the men’s knuckles. Each wore a molded helmet. Adam, his dark crop of hair jutting out the back of his gear, wore black sweatpants and a T-shirt. His arm muscles strained the short sleeves, the material subtly stretched over a hard, fit chest to taper to a trim waist. The pants were cut somewhat loosely, the soft fall of the fabric belying the conditioned body within. Talia’s gaze lingered in momentary surprise and appreciation, before sudden self-awareness shifted her body from chill to rapid, embarrassed heat again.

The other man, Spencer, pivoted and kicked Adam in the stomach. He, too, was dressed in black, though diagonal silver stripes accented the shirt’s ribbing and marked the breadth of his thighs on his pants.

Adam caught the outstretched leg, twisted, and sent Spencer spinning to the ground. Spencer landed on his back, coiled, and sprang to his feet. Only to be sent down again by a side strike from Adam.

Beautiful. They both had to be black belts at whatever they were doing. Gillian hooted approval.

“Enough,” Adam called, breathlessly waving Spencer down. Adam unlatched the clasp under his chin and pulled the headgear off his sweaty head. Face flushed, chest heaving, he was the most potent man Talia had ever seen. The sight of him, coupled with what she knew of his character, was enough to confirm the obvious: Adam was a dangerous man.

She wanted an icy-cold bucket over her head. She couldn’t very well make a show of fanning herself like Gillian was. Talia looked at the trees, the garden, and her borrowed sneakers. Anything but Adam.

Spencer stood and removed his headgear as well, uncovering a shock of dark blond. When he grinned, one side curled a little higher than the other, making him appear a little naughty.

Adam approached, forehead creasing as he gave Talia a once-over. His close proximity was disconcerting on several levels. Even the dark smell of his sweat was distracting, but not unpleasantly so. On the contrary, the sheen at his neck had her wondering what it tasted li—

“Did you sleep well?” Adam asked. “Any disturbances?”

“Not a one,” Talia answered, regrouping. “By the way, I appreciate the reading material you provided.”

Adam frowned; then a grin split his face. Made her heart jump.

“The Stephen King,” he said, laughing. “You can thank Jim Remy. He charged sixty copies to me and put one in each room. All part of the Segue welcome package. How do you feel today?”

Talia shrugged. “Okay. A little hot and cold.”

His gaze turned analytical. Probing. When he looked at her like that, he saw too much. “Pat warned us about that. You’ll take some time to recover completely. Let me know if you are uncomfortable.”

“I’m fine.” She tried for a bright smile, the kind that bounced off further questions, protecting the twisting nerves in her belly.

“Okay, then,” Adam said. “I’d like to introduce you to Spencer Benedict, our liaison with the Strategic Preternatural Coalition Initiative, a division under the U.S. Department of Defense. He is here to coordinate and facilitate communication between Segue and SPCI.” He pronounced it
speecee
.

Talia had wanted a cold bucket of water, now she got one.

The government? If there were as many wraiths out there as Adam claimed, government cooperation made sense. Mutual aid suggested a shared objective, to discover the origin of wraiths and learn how to cure or destroy them. Intellectually, she accepted that, but anxiety still crawled over her skin. What did SPCI think of her?

Talia approached and held out her hand like any normal person would. It was important to look normal. “Nice to meet you.”

Her gaze flicked to Adam in question.
Does he know?

Adam shook his head shallowly.

Spencer took her hand and squeezed. “Likewise.”

Talia caught a quick rush of curiosity mingled with fading resentment and sharp competitiveness. If she had to make a guess, she didn’t think Spencer liked losing to Adam, especially in front of female witnesses.

Adam’s intensity retreated. “Okay, then. First up, Wraith Defense 101. Spencer, I think we’re done here. Thanks for the workout; I needed it.”

“Don’t you need someone to play wraith?” Spencer winked
at Talia. It was a good cover, but Talia knew better. Spencer wanted another chance to show off.

“We’re not doing much today. Dr. O’Brien isn’t fully recovered yet.”

“You sure? I could stick around…” Spencer looked more closely at Talia. Made her retreat a step.

“We’ll be fine. Thanks.” Adam’s tone was decisive.

“You could go get that fifty you still owe me from last week’s poker game,” Gillian said to Spencer. Her tone was sarcastic, but she’d made a seductive S out of her body. Wasn’t hard with those curves. Talia felt awkward and gangly in comparison.

“Why would I want to do that?” Spencer asked, hanging a sweaty arm over Gillian’s shoulders. “Then you’d stop bug-ging me about it.”

“Because I’ll have to kick your ass if I don’t get it,” Gillian said.

“Promises, promises,” Spencer returned. The two started back to Segue, taking their time to cross the grass.

“Spencer got in this morning,” Adam said when the others had reached the building. “He doesn’t know anything about you beyond your dissertation and the mention of Shadowman. But he’s smart, so watch yourself around him. If he found out about your abilities, he’d feel obligated to inform his superiors.”

Talia swallowed. Her knees felt suddenly weak. Now that she was recovered, she could run. Hide. She wouldn’t make the same mistakes she’d made before. She could go to…

“Talia,” Adam said, “if and when your abilities become known to Spencer, I give you my word that I’ll be there every moment to see no harm comes to you. I make a good ally. You can trust me to stand by you.”

Conviction underscored Adam’s words, and Talia knew he was well-meaning. But she’d felt just how close he was to
the edge when he showed her Jacob. He was asking her to trust him to take care of her, but she knew the man was at his limit. He couldn’t do everything, be everywhere. He was only human.

“Walk with me,” he said, and they headed for the trees. As they crossed the shin-deep grasses, Adam began, his tone losing its intimacy and taking on authority. “Every employee of Segue is trained in the basics of wraith defense. Most of it, you already know. You can’t kill a wraith; you can only subdue him for as long as he takes to regenerate. A wraith’s speed and strength will always outmatch yours several times over, so do not attempt a direct attack. Hiding is—with your exception—impossible; wraith senses far exceed ours.”

So run like hell.
Long grass stalks whipped at her ankles, stinging and biting. Talia stayed behind Adam to avoid any accidental touches. She couldn’t think straight when bits of his emotions buffeted her own. She was barely hanging on as it was.

“The easiest way to subdue a wraith is with firearms. Because wraiths don’t react to pain and have superior endurance, shots to the head are much more likely to slow them down than shots to the body,” Adam continued. “You will be trained in the use of firearms. A firing range is set up on the other side of the building. There are occasions, however, when you may not have access to a gun.”

Talia glanced at Adam’s face and regarded the yellow bruises on his temple. He’d had no firearm in the alley and barely escaped with his life.

“Counterintuitive though it may seem, head for large groups of people. The wraiths have thus far retreated from public exposure.” Adam held a large tree branch out of the way and gestured for Talia to join the cool company of the trees.

“But then why not expose them? Push the wraiths out in
the open? Put them on the defensive.” Make them hide in the shadows for a change.

Adam scowled. The branch slapped back behind him. “And cause widespread public panic? A wraith free-for-all buffet as our focus shifts from learning all we can about them to rescue and containment.”

“Still. Public awareness—”

“—would only complicate an already untenable situation. Not an option at this time. This is far enough.” Adam stopped in a wide circle of tall trees. Fragrant pine boughs, heavy with needles, overshadowed the spot.

Talia halted and folded her arms, nails biting into her skin at her elbows. Pinched, but the discomfort was distracting her from yelling at the insanity of his position. The man wouldn’t even discuss forewarning the public when preemp-tive action could save lives.

“I won’t press you physically today,” Adam said, “but we need to explore the possibilities and range of your fear reflex. We should be out of sight of Segue here. I’d have worked with you in the training rooms inside, but they can be monitored discreetly, and with Spencer in residence, I want to play it very safe.”

Safe would be getting far, far away from here. Away from Spencer, away from Jacob, and away from Adam and his unnerving way of getting under her skin.

“Let’s start with your fear reflex. How your fear—”

Something snapped inside her. “Can you quit calling it that? My
fear?
What the hell is that? Makes me sound pathetic, which I
am,
but you don’t have rub it in every chance you get.” Talia glanced over her shoulder. Nobody there, the white block of Segue cut into shining ribbons by the trunks of the trees. Nobody was close enough to hear. “And, furthermore, the word is not accurate: It’s not a reflex and it’s not made of fear. Just because you’ve witnessed my ability
when I’ve been afraid, does not mean my fear creates it. You’re implying a causal relationship where none exists. Bad logic, really.”

Adam lips twitched, one moment his demeanor hard, the next he strained for composure and gravity. As if this were funny.

He should save himself the effort.

“If not fear, then what is it? How does it work?”

“I don’t know,” Talia said. The darkness did not come from inside her like emotion. She reached for the thin, silky layers. Or—or moved into them, but without taking a step.
In between
one place and another, a place wraiths couldn’t reach.

But that made no sense. It would be ridiculous to articulate it.