Shadow's Awakening: The Shadow Warder Series, Book One (An Urban Fantasy Romance Series) (11 page)

“Not until next week. It’s still early in the season. Too chilly for most of the tourists. You’ll have plenty of privacy.”

Junie winked at him again and Conner groaned. From anyone else the teasing might have been irritating, but Junie’s affection for both him and Kiernan was genuine. Conner knew she didn’t mean any harm.

“If you need anything, just let me know. There should be enough firewood, but if you run low, I’ll get you some more.”

“That college kid still doing the chores for you?” Conner asked.

“He graduated in January, but I’ve got another one. Between you and me, I think he’s a little bit of a pothead, but he gets the work done, so I let him be.”

“Does he live here?” Conner asked, alert to a potential threat.

“No, he lives closer to school. No one will be around to bother you two,” Junie said.

“Well, if you need anything done this week and your pothead isn’t here, you let me know,” Conner said.

“Conner, you’re here to relax, not to do any heavy lifting. I’ll get by.”

“Call me anyway. Some heavy lifting never did me any harm,” Conner said. As if to prove his point, Conner picked her up by her arms, raising her to eye level. He gave her papery cheek a smacking kiss and set her back down. “It’s good to see you, Junie.”

Junie gave him a radiant smile. “It’s good to see you too, honey. Have fun with your friend,” she said.

Conner rolled his eyes at her as he opened the door and walked out into the night.

When he got back into the SUV, Hannah thought she saw the ghost of a smile on Conner’s lips. It warmed his whole face. Hannah couldn’t help smiling back, despite the twinge in her still bruised face. “How far is it from here?” she asked.

“A minute or two more, but the road is rough. Junie’s going to have to get it graded again this year,” Conner said. The SUV bounced through a pothole, illustrating his comment. “Hungry?”

“Starving. Thank you for the shake.” Hannah rubbed her hand over her stomach. More than starving. She hadn’t eaten a real meal in ages. The milkshake, rich and sweet as it had been, hadn’t lasted long.

“No problem. Your body needs to heal. Food and sleep will speed it up. Junie stocked the kitchen for us and has something in the crockpot, so there should be plenty to choose from. I was thinking soup and biscuits.”

“Oh,” Hannah said, her disappointment evident. “Just soup?”

“There’s probably steak and burgers, but I thought you’d have a hard time with your jaw,” Conner said.

Hannah hadn’t thought about her jaw in hours. She moved it from side to side and practiced chewing. Still very tender. But she didn’t want to give up the idea of a juicy steak. Or a greasy cheeseburger. Soup sounded thin and insubstantial.

The SUV slowed and turned into a driveway. A hundred feet later the woods opened up to reveal a log cabin, one story, with a dark, peaked roof. The front porch was small, with two rocking chairs and a bright lamp beside the door. Conner stopped the SUV. Before Hannah could unbuckle her seatbelt he was opening her door. She managed to unclasp the buckle and was trying to turn without aggravating her bruised ribs when Conner reached in and plucked her from the seat. He set her on her feet and stood before her, studying her face.

“How about this,” his said. “Let me check out your jaw and if it’s okay, we’ll have burgers.”

“Fine.” Hannah didn’t like the idea. She just wanted to eat a burger. She wanted it so badly she could almost taste it. But she had a feeling Conner wasn’t going to budge. He seemed determined to look out for her, even against her own wishes. Hannah wondered if this was going to be another kind of prison.

Conner lifted his right hand and gently gripped her jaw. He applied a light pressure to the bone on her left side. Hannah didn’t expect the raw pain that flashed through her at his touch. She gasped and yanked her head away, stumbling from the quick movement.

“Hannah!” she heard Conner say. His arms came around her, drawing her to his chest in a tight embrace. “Hannah,” he said again, voice thick. “I’m sorry. You were talking just fine, so I didn’t think it was that bad. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He stroked his hands up and down her back, soothing.

The pain had already eased, but Hannah wasn’t in a hurry to move. Maybe he was going to be a little overprotective, but having someone care for her was such a novelty, Hannah drank it in with bottomless thirst. He smelled like heat and earth, clean and natural. His chest was solid and warm against her cheek, hands strong and comforting on her back. If she hadn’t been so hungry she could have stood there all night.

“Hannah,” he said again, his mouth next to her ear. “I’m sorry. I promised I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you and then it’s practically the first thing I do.”

He sounded so guilty, Hannah couldn’t help but smile. “I guess I’m having soup for dinner,” she said.

“Hannah,” Conner said again. She forced herself to pull away, if just to show Conner she was all right. He took a step back from her and examined her face.

“It’s okay,” Hannah said. “It would have been worse if you’d made me a steak and I couldn’t eat it. A good meal, even if it’s soup, and a full night's sleep and my jaw will be up to chewing tomorrow.”

Conner nodded and moved around her to open the back door of his SUV. He pulled out her escape bag, his worn duffel and several shopping bags and led her to the cabin. Someone had already turned on the interior lights. They walked into the great room, paneled in wide milled pine boards, glowing with warmth and welcome. A stacked stone fireplace took up most of one wall. It was surrounded by a couch and two overstuffed armchairs, each with a matching ottoman. Built-in bookshelves were tucked on each side of the fireplace, filled with paperbacks and board games.

An open kitchen with an island and a dining area filled the other side of the great room. Above them, thick peeled pine logs formed beams that supported the peaked ceiling. The cabin wasn’t large, but the cathedral ceiling and tall fireplace gave it a sense of space and light, even at night. Hannah could imagine living happily in such a place, curled before the stone fireplace on chilly nights, cooking satisfying meals in the spacious kitchen while she looked out the window over the sink into what she assumed would be a view of the woods. Peaceful. Relaxing.

“Let me get you settled in,” Conner said, leading her toward a door near the fireplace. Hannah saw there was a similar door by the kitchen and another in between. They must be the bedroom and bathroom since Hannah didn’t see a second floor. She followed Conner into a room paneled in the same golden pine as the rest of the house. A large bed sat in the middle of the room, taking up most of the space. It was made of more peeled pine logs, varnished to a high shine, covered with what looked like a hand-stitched quilt. A matching pine dresser faced the bed beside a door that led into the bathroom. Conner dropped the bags on the bed and gestured to the bathroom door.

“You can take a shower if you want while I heat up the soup,” he said. He didn’t meet her eyes.

Hannah wondered if he still felt bad about her jaw, or if it was something else. Not knowing set her off balance. She found herself unable to meet his eyes either. Instead, she looked at the bags he’d dropped. “What is this stuff?” she asked.

“We noticed that you didn’t have much to wear. Kiernan—the other Warder who helped get you out of the house—ran into the store to pick you up a few things. He guessed your size. I hope it fits.”

“Oh.” Hannah’s eyes teared up. She hadn’t had new clothes in almost a year. “You didn’t have to do that. Thank you.”

“It’s no big deal,” Conner said, shrugging. “I’ll let you get settled in.”

Hannah watched Conner leave the room, shutting the door behind him. He was being weird. He seemed to be bothered by the jaw thing, but that hadn’t been his fault. She hadn’t even realized it was still so tender. Gingerly, Hannah touched the weak spot again. Pain flared. Wincing, she pulled her hand away. She’d bet she still had a hairline fracture. She was lucky it was healing straight considering the abuse her face had taken in the past few days. She didn’t want to imagine what she must look like. Hannah pushed that issue aside for the moment. Sliding her makeshift escape bag under the bed out of habit, she put her knife on the bedside table and began looking through the shopping bags Conner had left on the bed.

For someone who had spent the past six months as a prisoner it was a treasure trove. Shampoo, conditioner, hairbrush, toothbrush and paste, deodorant, mango-scented body wash, a package of hair elastics, another of pink razors, and a huge bottle of mango lotion to go with the body wash. Just then, it was better than winning the lottery. A six-pack of bikini underwear in bright colors. Two pullover-style bras. Hannah paused over these for a moment before she realized Conner’s friend wouldn’t have had her bra size. These would be forgiving and would definitely fit her. She sighed in pleasure. Before, Hannah had hated wearing a bra. She wasn’t flat chested, but she wasn’t quite big enough to need a bra for support and she’d always been annoyed at having to wear one for the sake of modesty. After months surrounded by aggressive men without the protection of anything under her thin t-shirts, Hannah was thrilled at the idea of putting on a bra again.

In the next bag there were several long and short sleeve t-shirts, again in bright colors. Hannah also found an oatmeal cable-knit sweater in lightweight cotton and a gray zip-front hoodie. The sizes looked okay. The third bag held two pairs of jeans and a pair of flip flops. Hannah puzzled over these for a moment, as it was too chilly out to be wearing flip flops, especially in the mountains. Then it occurred to her. She’d been sleeping and they didn’t know her shoe size. Hannah realized that after so long without, she couldn’t remember what size shoes she wore. Nine and a half? Or was it eight and a half? Hadn’t her mother worn nine and a half? Hannah’s stomach clenched in panic. How could she forget something as basic as her shoe size?

Abruptly, the events of the past few days hit her in a landslide. Tears welled in her eyes, her knees buckled and she slid to the floor beside the bed, clutching the soft quilt to her face to stifle her sobs. She didn’t know what size shoes she wore and she held a brand new hairbrush. For her. That she could keep and use whenever she wanted. The vanilla sweetness of milkshake clung to her tongue. Simple kindnesses, which probably meant nothing to Conner and his friend, were completely foreign to Hannah and the life she’d been living.

Hot tears flooded down her cheeks. Months of holding back, refusing to show weakness, and now that she was safe she couldn’t stop crying. She’d killed Glenn. Her brain told her he deserved it. He’d tortured her for months. Shed her blood with joy. Hannah didn’t regret stabbing him. The resistant give of plunging the knife into his doughy flesh echoed in her head, in her hands.

She’d washed away his blood, but a part of her still felt the sticky heat of it on her skin. The knife beside the bed had been so vital an hour ago. Now the sight of it repulsed her. Had she used that to kill her stepfather? Used his own blade to take his life? Was she just as much a monster as he, if she was glad she’d killed him? Hannah stopped trying to make sense of it all and let herself go, conscious only of keeping her sobs quiet. The last thing she wanted was for Conner to see her like this, crumpled on the floor, bawling like a child.

Eventually Hannah ran out of tears. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she was hungry and she still needed a shower. She got to her feet and collected the toiletries to bring to the bathroom. Turning the shower as hot as she thought she could stand, she locked the bathroom door, stripped her clothes with her back to the mirror, and quickly got in. It was rare that she’d been allowed a shower while under Glenn’s control. She’d had to make do with a washcloth and the sink. Even the few showers she’d taken hadn’t been pleasant experiences. Cold water and an unlocked door turned the shower into a race. While she’d only known Conner for a few hours, Hannah was pretty sure he wasn’t the type to burst in on her while she was in the shower. If he was, with his size she knew the flimsy lock she’d turned wouldn't slow him down. But the lock made her feel better all the same.

The steaming hot water was bliss. Utter bliss. A box of truffles, expensive champagne and the best sex on the planet couldn’t be as good as this shower felt. No one had installed a water-saving showerhead and the pressure was blessedly high. The drops came out like bullets, scouring her tender skin. Exactly what she wanted. Hannah drenched a washcloth in the mango-scented body wash and scrubbed every inch of her body. She tried to be gentle where she was bruised, but the fresh, sweet scent of the soap and the smooth slide of the lather was so good she couldn’t help rubbing it in over and over.

It took longer than she’d planned, but Hannah finally felt clean. She turned her attention to her hair. Past the middle of her back, it was tangled, filthy, and badly in need of a cut. Hannah couldn’t do anything about the last, but she was as generous with the shampoo as she had been with the body wash and scrubbed away. Wash, rinse, repeat. Three times. Then a healthy dose of conditioner. Working out the tangles was time-consuming. Again, Hannah wished she could cut it. But she hadn’t thought to ask Conner for scissors. It was for the best. No one who cut their own hair ever ended up with a decent haircut.