Shadow's Awakening: The Shadow Warder Series, Book One (An Urban Fantasy Romance Series) (26 page)

A crunch of gravel alerted her to a truck slowly rolling down the drive. Junie looked up with a start. She wasn’t expecting visitors for another day or so. The college student who did odd jobs for her had left that morning and wouldn’t return until the end of the week. Except for the cabin occupied by Conner and his woman friend, she hadn’t opened any of the others for the season. Within two weeks her quiet camp would be bustling, but today it should be deserted.

Coming to her feet with a creak of her knees, Junie started down the porch steps toward the truck now parked in the gravel drive just in front of her house. Her wave of greeting halted as two men emerged from the cab. Both were tall and broad-shouldered, one with short, dark hair, the other’s hair longer and lighter. Though they’d dressed in the simple long-sleeved flannel shirts and jeans most men of the area wore this time of year, they didn’t look familiar. Junie had no doubt these men weren’t local. If pressed, she couldn’t have said why she was so sure they were strangers. Something about them—the way they held themselves, the predatory tilt to their heads—sent a shiver down her spine.

Instinct told Junie to turn and bolt back into the house, locking the door behind her. Whatever these men wanted, they could find it elsewhere. Before she could decide what to do, one of them spoke.

“Sorry to bother you ma’am, but do you have any cabins for rent?” the dark-haired one asked, coming around the hood of the truck toward her.

His words were polite, but his air of menace, combined with his single-minded approach, gave Junie the sense that she was being stalked. She’d lived long enough in these mountains to know how to deal with predators. Above all else, never run. They might not hurt you if you stood still. You might even be able to scare them off if you found the courage to pretend to be a threat. But if you ran they couldn’t resist the chase. And if they chased, you were dead.

Junie tried to dismiss her thoughts as the irrational musings of an old woman. Her foot thunked on the bottom step of the porch, surprising her. She hadn’t realized that she’d been backing away. Even as she’d thought about standing her ground, she was already preparing for flight.

“Ma’am? We’d like to rent a cabin?” The lighter-haired man asked. He remained where he was by the door of the truck, patiently watching his companion’s approach and Junie’s unintended retreat with a narrow-eyed smile.

“No,” Junie heard herself say in a rusty voice. “All the cabins are closed. Won’t open for another week or so.”

“Are you sure? We’re looking for our friends. A man and a woman? We thought they said they were staying here.”

Junie met his knowing eyes, heart sinking. These men were no friends of Conner’s. Of that she was certain. Conner and Kiernan might be a little rough around the edges, but they had an innate kindness that was nothing like these two.

“Like I said, the cabins are closed for the season. Maybe you should try somewhere else.”

“Oh, no,” the dark-haired man said, moving closer.

He had an animal grace that added to Junie’s sense of being stalked. In a liquid, loping stride he moved to her side. Taking her arm, he turned her and led her up the stairs. His grip was just over the painful side of tight. Junie risked a look at his face and saw by his half smile that he enjoyed hurting her. The thud of a car door closing told her that the lighter-haired man followed.

“Let’s just check your reservations book to be sure,” the man holding her arm said. “You’re not a young woman. Maybe you forgot they checked in.” His tone remained genial even as his tight fingers shifted lower and ground together the bones of her elbow.

Pain shot through her arm, sending tears to her eyes. She thought she heard the man draw a long breath through his nose as if savoring the scent of a sizzling steak.

“I think we’ve got some time,” a voice said from right behind her.

Junie stiffened in panic. She hadn’t known the other one was already so close. She was penned in, both men suddenly looming over her with feral grins.

“Its been a while since we fed,” the man behind her said. “And we can’t touch the girl.” He lowered his head to her neck and took a long, deep sniff. “Fear with a touch of pain. Tastes good.”

“Fine,” the other one said. “Just make sure she tells us which cabin they’re in while she can still talk. I don’t want to have to check them all.”

Junie opened her mouth to scream. All that emerged was a sharp squeak. She fought to think, to find a way to escape, when a cold burn sliced down her arm. A knife? She didn’t know. Realized it didn’t matter. As terror and agony engulfed her body, she understood all that mattered was how fast her end would come.

It took Hannah only a few minutes to pack their things into Conner’s duffel and the shopping bags she’d saved. Neither of them had brought much. Hannah didn’t know what she should do about the food in the kitchen. Conner would tell her, she supposed. It was a struggle, but she refused to let herself cry again. There would be plenty of time for that later. She had a lifetime stretching ahead of her to cry over Conner. They still had one more night together. She didn’t want to spend it with Conner looking into her red, puffy eyes.

Setting their mostly packed things by the bedroom door, Hannah turned back to the kitchen. Time to figure out what to make for dinner. Something romantic, if possible. Maybe they could have a picnic under the moonlight. If they only had a few more hours, Hannah wanted them to be memorable enough for the rest of her life. Her chest was tight with pain. While the bond she felt with Conner was much stronger when she was physically touching him, she still felt as if a part of him was with her, even when he was out of sight. She wondered how long it would last. Would it fade gradually or would her sense of him disappear once he was far enough away? There was still the possibility that their attachment was being manufactured by her stressed mind. Maybe he’d lied about feeling it to comfort her. As awful as that thought was, Hannah had to admit it would be the easier solution. A real and lasting tie between them would only bring more pain into her life. After the past few years, Hannah was done with pain.

Standing in front of the open fridge, she tried to decide what to cook. They had spaghetti, but that would keep and it wasn’t very romantic. Was there steak in the brown paper-wrapped package behind the eggs? Steak would be good. A prickle ran down her back, scraping her spine with a sharp sensation so acute it almost hurt. She shut the door to the fridge and stepped to the center of the kitchen, looking around for a disturbance. All seemed calm. There was nothing out of the ordinary, except for a slowly building sense that something was not right.

The prickles on her back expanded to run down her arms and legs, accompanied by a pressure in the air not unlike the static she used to feel in her mind. But this wasn’t inside her. It was out there. Somewhere outside the cabin. Before Hannah registered what was going on, a pulse of energy jolted her, chasing out the prickles with a feeling that was the physical equivalent of nails on a chalkboard. It raked through her, firing every nerve in its path, then was gone.

The wards. Conner had said she’d know when they were breached. Now she understood what he’d meant. The alert was silent, ensuring the intruders thought they hadn’t been detected, yet it was impossible to miss. Without thinking, Hannah opened the drawer beside the stove and pulled out two knives. The smaller knife went in the back pocket of her jeans. The larger she held in her hand. She left the drawer open so the rest would be accessible. The cabin wasn’t equipped with the best cutlery, but fishermen needed to fillet their catch. At least the knives she had were respectably sharp. The others would have to do.

Hannah considered running. If she’d had any idea where to go, she might have gone flying out the back door. Since she had no knowledge of the area, no keys to the SUV, no idea where Conner was, and she was wearing flip flops, running into the mountains seemed like a stupid idea. She backed up against the fridge, holding herself just out of view of the front door and waited, the ten-inch fillet knife gripped in her hand. She felt rather than heard the front door of the cabin swing open.

“Anyone home?” A strange voice called out. “I got lost and need to borrow your phone.”

Hannah remained where she was. The hum of angry bees filled the air, grating against her mind, exactly like Glenn and the others who’d held her prisoner. A Voratus.

It walked into the great room, leaving the door open behind it. The demon must think she was too stupid to recognize the threat. Maybe she was stupid since she couldn’t think of anything to do other than cower against the fridge and wait for it to reveal itself. Heavy footsteps crossed the great room, drawing closer to the kitchen. Hannah heard him sniffing the air.

Too late, she remembered that the Vorati weren’t human. They were demons in human bodies and they fed off emotion. The Voratus didn’t need to see her. It could sniff out the scent of her terror seasoning the cabin. By tucking herself away, gripping her knife and giving in to indecision, she was feeding him without even making him work for it.

Hannah drew in a deep breath of her own. Screw that. If he was going to catch her, she’d go down fighting. She didn’t understand why they were after her. Why she was different than any other victim. It didn’t really matter. Staying alive. Beating this thing. That’s what mattered. Conner might get back in time to help her. He might already be dead. She didn’t know how many of them there were. Either way, right now Hannah was on her own.

Hannah slid the knife into her empty back pocket so she could wipe her sweaty palms on her jeans. Hands dry, mind resolved, she drew both knives from her pockets and stepped out of her hiding place to face the Voratus in the great room.

At her appearance, the tall, dark-haired form turned. A wide grin split its face. He could have been attractive before the demon took him, with his dark eyes and strong build, but now he seemed to be all sharp teeth and hungry eyes, made all the more sinister by the deep red aura clinging to his form.

“I don’t think you’ll be any trouble,” it said, moving closer. Hannah guessed she didn’t look like much. A blondish girl of average height in cheap jeans, a gray hoodie and pink flip flops holding two fillet knives. Not exactly a badass.

“Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you,” it said. “I just want to take you to meet some friends.”

Hannah held her ground, letting it move closer. She wasn’t sure how much control she’d have over the knives at a distance. If she had any chance, she’d have to depend on surprise and proximity. She let him get almost within arm's reach. He remained edgy, ready to grab her, but his shoulders had relaxed slightly. Hannah’s silence and unimposing presence had eased some of the Voratus’s predatory instincts. Another step closer. It reached out, opening its mouth to speak.

Whipping both hands back at same time, Hannah flung her knives at the Voratus in a fluid arc. If left alone they would have flown wide and dropped to the floor, useless. Instead, Hannah let herself fall back into her mind, sending all the energy her subconscious could marshal into the blades, lifting them from their faltering trajectory to arrow straight into the Voratus’s neck. The longer of the knives sliced neatly through its jugular, freeing a thick spray of red blood to splash across the couch and the floor. Hannah leapt backward out of its path. The second, shorter blade cut into the neck from the opposite side, nearly decapitating the body.

Hannah watched in awe as the Voratus’s smug expression melted into shock at its unexpected death. A dark red, viscous cloud streamed from the gaping wound in its neck, glimmering with oily rainbows as it snaked through the air.

Hannah froze when it drew close. Narrowing to a point that looked to Hannah’s eyes like a long bony finger, it drew to a halt in front of her. Holding herself as still as possible, Hannah resisted the urge to bolt when the thing slid its icy, oily red fingertip down her cheek, prodding her soft skin as if seeking entrance. After what seemed like ages, but was probably only seconds, it drew away from Hannah, found the open front door, and sucked itself outside.

Hannah let out a gust of air. She hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath. The red cloud must have been the true essence of the Voratus. Conner had told her they were incorporeal and unless imprisoned in a copper calix they could leave a dead victim and move on to find another host to infect. Hannah tried to convince herself to move. She was a sitting duck standing here in the middle of the cabin. She needed to try to focus, see if she could use her connection to Conner to find him.

Before she took a step, a strong hand closed around her neck. With a backward jerk, she was pulled into a hard chest. Being held against the new Voratus’s body sent painful, electric shivers down her nerve endings. Hannah tried to reach out to the open knife drawer with her mind, but the proximity of the demon seemed to short out her connection to her power.

Or maybe she was just too fucking scared for her subconscious to do its thing. It was funny, a quiet part of her brain mused, that all it took was a short respite from terror to make it all new again. Before Conner had broken her out of her captivity, one of these things threatening her wouldn’t have been that big a deal. Just another in a long string of miserable, fear drenched days. After less than a week with Conner, just the touch of this thing was enough to send her plummeting into despair. Hannah fought not to throw up as it pulled her face close to its mouth.