Shadow's Awakening: The Shadow Warder Series, Book One (An Urban Fantasy Romance Series) (24 page)

“I want to say I can’t believe you’d defy me and seek to conceal my targets. But I should have expected such betrayal. Of all the Shadow-Warders in your line, you know I’ve loved you the most.” He skimmed a fingernail down her neck, pausing to dig in over her jugular. “But that won’t protect you any more than my affection protected any of the others. You owe recompense for the trouble you’ve caused. Though I suppose you’d argue that you were just helping your cousin. Maybe I should take it out of his hide instead of yours.”

Kate was unable to stop the low growl that erupted. Part terror and part rage, it burst from her mouth as she strained at her invisible bonds.

“You can’t touch him, you fucking asshole,” she ground out.

“Finally I get a response.” He chuckled. “Your language, as ever, is appalling. Don’t worry, I remember our deal. Do you? Everything I’d give to him, I’ll give to you.”

Kate steeled herself. He wasn’t exaggerating. She’d bartered for protection for those she loved, at a price only she could pay.

“Not now,” he said, with a languid drawl that Kate knew was feigned. He wanted something or he would have already started his fun. “I have other business tonight. But first, I want the anchor you used to mask them from me. It will save me time tracking them.”

“Fuck off,” Kate said. Not the most original response, but it was the best she could do. “You can’t have it. It’s gone.”

A whistle split the air as he swung, striking her jaw with a heavy fist. Blood sprayed as her teeth sliced into her lips. Vaguely, Kate regretted that she’d have to clean up the mess Druj was about to make. Exhaustion weighed her limbs more effectively than his power. Kate decided not to care. She would heal and Zach would help her clean up. He always did.

“The anchor isn’t gone,” Druj said, frustration leaking through his cultured tone. “I can feel the resonance. Tell me where it is.”

Kate might have taunted him again, but she’d poured all of herself into the spell, leaving her body drained to the dregs. He wanted to leave and she wanted him gone. She spit blood from her mouth, clearing it enough to speak.

“You’re wrong. I created a collapsing anchor. I held back a small charge so that when the spell broke, it would obliterate the anchor.”

“Impossible,” he spat out, aiming a hard kick to her ribs. Kate grunted at the impact, surprised Druj was limiting himself to physical punishment. Except for the threads of energy he used to hold her limbs still, he hadn’t touched her with his power. Either he wasn’t feeling creative, or he was reserving his power for something else. Something so important he wasn’t willing to waste more than a drop on her.

Long years of being his play-toy had taught Kate that he had no end of creative methods of punishment. So it had to be Door Number Two. That didn’t bode well for their charges. She wondered if Zach would get a glimpse of what was happening. All he needed was a flash of sight to tell him to get the Warder and his Shadow moving. Holding on to the hope that Zach would pick up the ball and run with it, Kate spat out more blood and answered Druj. Her best bet was to be a distraction. Druj liked to play with her. Normally that was a curse. For once his obsession might be helpful.

“You rely too much on brute power,” she said. “I have to use more finesse. An anchor for an Obfuscation is no good if it hangs around to point the way if the spell crafting is interrupted. I linked it to my spell craft and to the pattern. Only I could sense it and when I dropped the spell, the anchor collapsed on itself. You may be able to feel the resonance, but the source is gone.”

Kate opened her eyes to see rage wash over Druj’s elegant face.

He always managed to find a handsome body to steal. Some were more so than others, but she’d never heard of him appearing in an ugly form. Bracing for his attack, she jerked at the flash of angry current that rushed through her body. Cold, shaking fire tasting of foul energy struck every one of her cells in a wave of agony. Her vision blacked out. Limbs turned to stone as her muscles locked. The term “brain-fried” took on new meaning. Kate wondered if she was hallucinating from the pain or if she really smelled burning hair.

Above all else, she hated being electrocuted. Druj knew it and usually saved it for special occasions. By nature, a Shadow had no problem manipulating and directing energy. From any other source, the hit she’d just absorbed would have easily converted to pure nourishment, filling her power reserves to the brim. Voratus energy was another story. Toxic to Shadows, a jolt of Voratus energy was not that different than a human touching a high voltage power line, if that line was coated in poison.

Fortunately, very few Vorati had that level of control over their energy. Druj, however, had all kinds of control. But not enough. She might be lying in a pool of her own blood, and possibly vomit, but she’d goaded him into wasting a fraction of power. Not all of it, not even a quarter. But at least it was something. As awareness trickled back and she tasted the sour flavor of vomit in her mouth, Kate reminded herself that she would heal. As long as he didn’t kill her, she would heal.

Druj would never kill her. His greatest dreams were pinned on the prophecy. Only the Shadow-Warder, through willing blood and bone, could grant Druj a permanent body. The prophecy was so old, none knew its source or understood precisely what it meant. Some thought it referred to a sacrifice of the Shadow-Warder. Some thought it meant the Shadow-Warder would give Druj his or her child. It didn’t matter. Either way, if Druj killed her before she fulfilled the prophecy or bore the next generation of Shadow-Warders, his dreams turned to ashes.

A hard hand gripped her shoulder, sending tendrils of dark power down her arm. Bile rose again in Kate’s throat. She didn’t fight it back. For a demon who loved torture, Druj could be fastidious. It would serve him right if she threw up on him. Sadly, her stomach was empty. The best she could manage was a dry heave, which didn’t bother him in the slightest. He leaned in close, drawing a deep breath. He might be fastidious, but the scent of her pain was his most treasured delicacy. She doubted he even noticed the stench of blood or vomit. Then again, he loved the scent of her blood.

“Katherine,” he whispered in her ear, giving her shoulder a firm squeeze. “You always smell so luscious. I wish I could eat you up, bite by bite. But then I’d lose my favorite pet.”

He released her shoulder and laid a lingering kiss on her bloody lips. Cold, sparking fingers stroked her cheek, sending more icy jolts down her face and neck. She didn’t have the energy to flinch. It was a battle just to stay conscious.

“I hate to take the shine off your valiant efforts,” Druj said, his smile audible. “But I thought you should know that you’ve done me a service with your spell crafting. It’s inconvenient that the anchor is gone. But I have the Warder’s marker. The anchor would have been easier to track, but I’ll make do. My partner was too eager. He might have found the Shadow and her Warder a day ago without your Obfuscation blocking him. And I needed them to have their time alone. So thank you for your help, unwilling though it was. For that, I’m sparing you the punishment you deserve.”

With a final, brutal caress of her cheek he was gone. Time drifted in a haze of pain. Night had fallen, drenching the room in darkness. Kate’s body instinctively drew heat from her surroundings, rebuilding her strength, chilling further the already cold room. Her blood had ceased to flow from her wounds, the skin slowly knitting. She couldn’t hold consciousness for more than a few minutes before she drifted off again.

Sometime after the moon had risen, Kate heard footfalls on the stairs, felt the familiar warmth of Zach’s presence. A low murmur echoed in the room, then she was being lifted and cradled like a small child. Dropping her head to rest against his chest, Kate allowed herself to be soothed by the thump of his heartbeat. Zach might look like a vagrant surfer half the time, but he was her constant. Reliable. Always overflowing with love. If he’d turned his back on her, Kate knew she wouldn’t have survived for long.

“KitKat,” he murmured her childhood nickname. Inwardly, Kate smiled. From anyone else she hated that name. “This is all going to end. I promise you. This won’t be your life forever. Just a little longer.”

“Want a skylight,” she mumbled. A light kiss dropped to the top of her head.

“Let me get you in a hot bath. Then we’ll see about the skylight.”

“You call them?” Kate felt herself drifting. She was aware of the water running, her body lying in the tub, still fully clothed. Hot water rose around her, feeding her strength as it washed her clean. Finally letting go of her hold on reality, Kate was almost too tired to notice that Zach didn’t answer. Exhaustion claimed her before she could press him further.

Chapter Fifteen

“Hold it up higher and throw it at me.” From a relaxed sprawl in the sunny clearing behind the cabin Conner watched the stick hover in the air above Hannah. She found it more than a little annoying that he was so unconcerned. He’d asked her to hit him with the stick. Was he so certain she’d miss? Gathering her concentration, Hannah propelled the stick through the air at Conner. It traveled at a satisfying speed before he snatched it out of the air. She still hadn’t gotten used to how quickly he moved when he wanted to.

“Try again,” he said, tossing the stick back. “You need to get more force behind it.”

“I want to do something else. Why won’t you teach me how to fight? This isn’t going to do me much good.” Hannah knew she sounded like a child trying to avoid a lesson, but throwing things wasn’t making her feel any more self-sufficient. She could throw the stick harder and with better accuracy using her hand than her mind. She wanted to be able to defend herself.

“There’s no point in teaching you to fight. We don’t have enough time for you to learn anything useful. If you run into trouble, you have two skills—resonating and telekinesis. I don’t want you getting close enough to someone dangerous to fight them. You’re much better off keeping your distance and trying to send them away with your mind or using your Tk.”

“That sounds so weak,” Hannah complained. “Try to think them away while I toss sticks at them?”

“Only if you can’t run. If you can run, do that.”

Hannah took a deep breath, trying to stem her irritation. She knew Conner was right. In the movies a novice could learn all of kung fu in a quick montage. In real life it took years of training to fight like Conner. Even shooting a gun took time to learn. Hannah had never held a weapon, much less fired one. She was completely unequipped to protect herself. It was smarter to improve the few skills she did have than to try to learn new ones she had no hope of mastering. Knowing it was true didn’t make it any less boring or annoying.

“Give me a minute,” she said, lying back in the grass and closing her eyes. She needed a quick break to get her head in the game. They’d spent too much time in bed and not enough time on work. That was fine by her. By his own admission Conner had said he didn’t have a lot to teach her. The sooner they ran out of lessons, the sooner he’d bring her to the city and deliver her to the Shadows. Their time together would end and she’d likely never see Conner again. Hannah wasn’t ready for that.

They’d chosen their current arrangement, about twenty feet apart in the small clearing behind the cabin, for the sake of practicality. If they were within arm’s length of each other nothing would get done. That had been clear the few times they’d tried to be productive while they were in the cabin. It seemed that all either of them needed was an excuse to touch and before they knew it they were on the floor, or the bed, or the kitchen table, going at it again. Distance was necessary, at least temporarily.

Hannah opened her eyes, squinting against the late afternoon sun. Spring was firmly entrenched, even here in the mountains. All around, green leaves fluttered on branches swaying in the light breeze. The air still carried the slightest of chills, making her grateful for the hoodie Conner’s friend had bought her. She imagined it was almost summery back in Charlotte. She’d know soon enough.

Time to focus. Using her mind to move things was a partial success. Hannah thought she didn’t have the capacity, but Conner insisted that all Shadows were far more capable than what she was able to do. The frustrated part of her wanted to ask him how he could be so sure when he said he didn’t know a lot about Shadows. The rest of her acknowledged that not knowing a lot meant he still knew a ton more than she did. And she shouldn’t expect to be lifting the whole mountain her third day in. It was just that shielding had come so easily she’d stupidly expected the rest to be easy as well.

Since she’d first created the shield, she’d been taking small peeks into her mind. Not only was it holding without conscious support, the messy tangles had rearranged themselves into a neat, tight, almost translucent weave. Conner was right—her brain had just needed a little direction and it had taken over the reins of the shield on its own. Apparently her subconscious was a rock star. If she could get her conscious mind on board, she might be able to actually do something.