Shadow's Awakening: The Shadow Warder Series, Book One (An Urban Fantasy Romance Series) (8 page)

Hannah nodded. She wanted out of this house. She’d worry about where they were going later. Opening her mouth to speak, a blast of sharp pain convinced her to wait. The stranger saw her flinch.

“Broken jaw?” he asked. She nodded. He scowled, eyes grim. “Get dressed. We’ll get you out of here.”

Hannah searched the room for her bag. It lay a few feet away, just beneath the edge of the bed. She grabbed it and headed for the bathroom. Holding up her finger to indicate she’d be a minute, Hannah entered the tiny bathroom and locked the door behind her. Not that the lock would do her much good if the stranger wanted in.

Bracing herself against the pain of moving too fast, she turned on the shower, stripped off her clothes and ducked under the freezing spray. At least she had good water pressure. There wasn’t time for more than a quick rinse to wash the blood off both her body and the knife. A careful touch told her the cut on her neck had already stopped bleeding. Less than a minute later, she stepped out, brushing drops of water from her skin. She refused to look at herself in the small mirror. A fine trembling had taken over her limbs. Shock?

Hannah tried to force herself to concentrate on getting dressed. No time to process. No time to go into shock. If she was lucky, she’d have time later. For now she had to get dressed and get out of the house. Thinking about tasting fresh air calmed her enough to keep moving.

From her bag, she pulled her last pair of jeans, a ragged pair of underwear, and a navy t-shirt. Dragging the clothes over wet skin was a struggle, painful on her bruised body, but she didn’t have a towel. She wished for a bra. She hadn’t had a bra for months. Her hair was a tangled mess. Without a comb, she couldn’t do much. To get it out of the way, she wrapped it in her only elastic. Aware she was burning time, Hannah left the bathroom. The stranger looked her over, stopping at her bare feet.

“Shoes?” he asked. She shook her head. Another scowl. Stomping to the bedroom door, he shouted, “All clear?”

“Clear,” came the answer floating up the stairs.

“Stay behind me,” he said. He didn’t seem to mind that she still held Glenn’s knife in her hand. Clean, armed and on her way out of her prison, Hannah followed the stranger down the stairs to freedom.

“On our way.” Conner yelled down the stairs. He heard faint footsteps below.

“Move fast,” Kiernan yelled. “The house is starting to go up. Got the girl?”

Conner felt her behind him. She was cold, shaking a little. Her clothes weren’t heavy enough for the chilly house, but he knew the trembling had nothing to do with the temperature. She was going into shock. Not a surprise. They were lucky she was with it enough to handle the stairs.

“She’s right behind me. How is it down there?” Conner asked.

“Messy.”

One flight away from the first level, Conner could smell smoke and blood. He stopped on the second floor landing and turned to the Shadow. She backed up a step, wary. Despite her fear and shock, her body gave off the same warm vibration he’d felt when he’d entered her room. Sweet. Gentle. It brushed over his skin, distracting him. He wanted to touch her face, to soothe her, but she was so bruised he was afraid of causing her more pain. Conner wondered what she looked like when she was healed. From her bone structure and the strong green of her eyes, he guessed she would be heart-stopping.

“I know you don’t know me. But I need you to trust me a little,” he said. She raised her chin, inviting him to go on. “You don’t have shoes. It’s a mess down there and our car is a hike. I’m going to have to carry you.”

She made a noise in her throat that he couldn’t decipher. Yes? No way? Her grip tightened on the knife. That, Conner understood.

“You can keep the knife. As long as you don’t use it on me.” Narrowed green eyes. “I won’t give you a reason to use it. I promise.”

That appeared to satisfy her. She stepped closer, waiting. Conner didn’t hesitate. He scooped her into his arms, cradling her to his chest. Her damp hair brushed his chin. She was tall, yet her slender form fit his arms easily. After a moment of tension, she relaxed into him. She smelled of a warm spring day. Like sunshine and fresh grass. Again, he found himself fighting distraction.

The energy that had been a gentle vibration from across the room hummed with a soothing, seductive power. Conner tried to clear his head. She was severely injured. She needed protection. She did not need him going off half-cocked and wondering if her skin was this soft all over. Or how she managed to smell so good. And what the rest of her body looked like under her worn, baggy clothes.

In all of his long life, Conner had never come across another being with this kind of energy signature. She was sweet, wrapping him in a cocoon of warmth. Like bathing in sunlight. How could she feel so warm, so alive, and still tremble in shock? Conner drew her tighter to his chest, wishing he had time to find a blanket. Feet echoed behind him on the stairs. He whirled, ready to defend his charge.

“Whoa, it’s just me,” Kiernan said, holding his hands before him, palms out in a placating gesture. “What’s the deal? Is she okay?” Kiernan peered over Conner’s shoulder and got a good look at the Shadow’s face. “I was expecting a kid,” he said.

Conner smiled at the growl that rumbled against his chest. His Shadow might be half in shock, but she wasn’t taking any shit.

“They beat the hell out of her. Her jaw is broken and she can’t talk. She also has a knife, so I wouldn’t piss her off.”

Kiernan gave the Shadow another look, this one assessing. Then he turned and jogged down the steps. Conner followed. On the first floor, the scent of smoke overwhelmed his lungs. It stank of gas, rubber and burning flesh. Ducking the Shadow’s head closer into his chest, Conner tried to shield her from the polluted air and the sight of bodies on the floor. A minute later they were both clear of the house, heading across the open field at a brisk pace.

A few hundred feet away, both Conner and Kiernan stopped and turned for a look. Flames licked up the side of the house near the smoldering SUV. A thin line of fire ate at the second floor. Smoke poured through the open front door, escaping the doomed house like a cloudy refugee.

“Any bodies outside?” Conner asked.

“Not any more. I dragged the two we killed first back inside,” Kiernan said. They continued to study the pace of the fire.

“Usually, I’d think about cleanup,” Conner said, keeping his voice low. “But this should take care of things. We’re pretty isolated here. Probably going to be a while before anyone calls it in.”

“Exactly my thought,” Kiernan said. He turned to look at the woman held tightly in Conner’s arms. Conner had dropped his face into her hair and was stroking his chin against the top of her head. “What are you going to do with her?”

“Hmm?” Conner asked. Now that they had the Shadow out of immediate danger, he found it hard to focus on anything but the feel of her in his arms.

“You should get out of here for a few days and take her with you.”

“I can’t do that,” Conner said, but his normally strong voice lacked conviction. The Shadow tensed. She was listening, but holding her own counsel.

“The Oracle said she’d be in more danger if you brought her in,” Kiernan said. “What would it hurt to get away for a few days? She could use the time to heal. And didn’t Alexa tell you to take some time off? If she asks, I’ll tell her you left last night.”

Conner knew Kiernan had never seen him respond to a woman with such absorption. Conner’s general M.O. was to find a woman who didn’t mind a no-strings night or two, have some fun, and take off. He liked women well enough. He respected them, protected those weaker than himself, and got hit by lust when he saw a nice rack just like any other man. But standing in the middle of a field cradling a woman in his arms while he smelled her hair? Not a chance.

“Conner?” Kiernan prompted.

“I’m thinking,” Conner said.

Lie. He wasn’t thinking at all. He was distracted by the Shadow’s pulsing hum of energy, breathing in her scent of sun and green grass.

“Don’t think,” Kiernan said. “Get cleaned up and take her out of here. You can drop me on the edge of the city and I’ll get a ride back in. Take her up to the cabins until you hear from the Oracle.”

Conner dragged his head up and forced himself to process the situation. They were still several hundred feet from the woods and close to a mile from where they’d hidden his SUV. He set out, Kiernan at his side, carrying the Shadow, lost in thought.

Conner’s long stride ate the uneven ground separating them from his SUV at a quick pace. He was careful to find solid footing, worried about tripping and injuring his charge, but he wanted to get her somewhere safe. He’d intended to call Alexa as soon as things were resolved, then deliver the Shadow and walk away. He’d never considered any other option.

In truth, he’d partly expected the Oracle to be full of shit. The whole situation was so farfetched he hadn’t believed they’d arrive to find a captive Shadow held by a nest of Vorati. Yet that was exactly what they’d walked into. Now it was impossible to write off the idea that the rest of the Oracle’s story was equally true. That meant turning the Shadow in to Alexa could mean her death. Or something worse. Conner still found it hard to swallow the claim that giving her to his handler could be dangerous. Alexa might be lazy, but she wasn’t evil. Warders were protectors. As slight as the possibility was, Conner found himself reluctant to put the Shadow at risk.

The cabins were an ideal solution. Tucked away in the mountains about two hours north, they were simple, but a great place to relax and do a little fishing. He and Kiernan used them every few months. As far as Conner knew, no one aside from the two of them knew about their getaway. It was so rural, the area was almost clear of Vorati and didn’t have any resident Warders. As hiding places went, it was perfect.

If he planned to keep the Shadow for a few days—and it was ridiculous at this point to pretend he was going to give her up yet—he couldn’t think of a better refuge.

“Do you have your cell?” Conner asked. “I’ll call Junie and see if she has anything.”

“Already did,” Kiernan said. “This morning. Just in case you decided follow the Oracle’s advice and hide her for a few days. Junie’s wide open. She’s got our usual cabin reserved and she said she’d stock the kitchen for you. I let her think both of us were coming, but I told her I didn’t know what time we’d get in.”

“Thinking ahead,” Conner said, starting to work out logistics.

“I wanted to leave your options open.”

“Thanks.” Conner did a quick inventory. “I need to get this blood off me. I don’t want to show up like this. I’ll scare the hell out of Junie.”

“Mr. Rogers, you’re not,” Kiernan said. Conner could just see the back of the SUV through the dense trees. “I’ll check for water and a rag or something. Is your emergency bag in there?”

“Behind the rear seat. Grab me a change of clothes?” They both kept duffel bags in the back of their vehicles. You never knew when you’d have to clean up or change clothes. In their line of work, it paid to be prepared. Kiernan found his things and dug out the jug of water and a hand towel.

Passing them to Conner he said, “She’s out. Do you want to put her down?”

Surprised, Conner craned his head, trying to see her face tucked into his chest. She’d been so relaxed, he should have realized she’d passed out. The fine trembling had stopped. Her heartbeat was steady. She’d slid from the beginning of shock into a healing sleep. If Shadows were anything like Warders, the best thing for her injuries was rest, preferably deep sleep. The second the adrenaline from the fight had drained away, she’d probably passed out from exhaustion.

“Recline the seat and check the back for a blanket. I think there’s one under my bag,” Conner said. When the seat was tilted back as far as it would go, he laid the Shadow down, removing the small bag from her shoulder and fastening the seatbelt around her. She curled her face into the headrest, grimacing as the fabric pressed into her jaw.

Conner’s arms felt cold and empty. Instinct told him to pick her back up, to cradle her close until her injuries had healed. He ignored it. Instead he took the blanket Kiernan handed him, tucking it securely around the Shadow’s sleeping body. He wedged her knife beside her so she would see it when she woke, but wouldn’t cut herself in her sleep. Once she was secure, he stepped away and shut the car door.

“What’s in her bag?” Kiernan asked. Conner passed it to him, picking up the water and towel Kiernan had found in the back of the SUV. He wasn’t as bloody as the Shadow had been, but he was still a mess. Kiernan opened the drawstring top of the Shadow’s bag and peered inside.

“Not much. A sweatshirt. Pretty ratty. A five dollar bill. A photograph.” Kiernan pulled out the picture and studied it. He let out a low whistle. “She cleans up good,” he said, handing the photo to Conner.

She did more than clean up good. Tanned and laughing, her red-gold hair loose around her face, the Shadow was radiant. Her summer dress showed off long legs and curves. Far more curves than she had now. She’d lost weight. They’d been starving her. Keeping her weak. Conner fought back a fresh rush of anger. The demons who had hurt her were dead. She was free. He turned his mind back to the practicalities.