Shadow's Edge
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Text copyright ©2012 by J. T. Geissinger
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by Montlake Romance
P.O. Box 400818
Las Vegas, NV 89140
ISBN-13: 9781612183312
ISBN-10: 161218331X
To Jay, my knight in shining denim; thank you.
To my parents, Jean and Jim, for surviving
the surly teenage years; I owe you big time.
And to all those who dare to love...this one’s for you.
When love beckons to you follow him,
Though his ways are hard and steep.
And when his wings enfold you yield to him,
Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.
And when he speaks to you believe in him,
Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden.
—K
HALIL
G
IBRAN
Excerpted from the
Illustrated London News
, October 27, 1888
EGYPTIAN FARMER UNEARTHS ANCIENT CAT TOMBS
According to Sir T.M. Addison Pike, famed Egyptologist and Orientalist, the recent discovery of a massive grave outside Beni Hasan containing more than 300,000 mummified cat remains is of special import and sheds new light on heretofore unconfirmed reports of the unusual esteem in which cats were held by the denizens of ancient Egypt.
A cemetery site located near the Nile River, Beni Hasan was primarily used during the Middle Kingdom, which spanned the 21
st
to the 17
th
centuries BCE. The colossal necropolis where the mummified felines were found is believed to be constructed by Hatshepsut and dedicated to the local goddess Pakhet, a lioness war deity.
Hatshepsut, translated as
Foremost of the Noble Ladies
, reigned longer than any other woman of an indigenous dynasty and is considered one of the most powerful and prosperous pharaohs of ancient Egypt. Female rule in Egypt was quite common; another example of a woman who ascended the throne was Cleopatra, the last – and perhaps most notorious – pharaoh of ancient Egypt.
Upon interview of the farmer who discovered the tombs, a colorful local legend emerged. It tells of the
Ikati
– Zulu for “cat warrior” – creatures sublimely beautiful and equally deadly, betimes human in shape but able to take the form of vapor or panther at will.
Apparently, the ancient Egyptians believed these fabled creatures were gods, originating from the darkest heart of the African rainforest, where the Congo disappears into clinging mists and savage wilderness beyond where any man dares to tread. Legend has it that the
Ikati
first civilized the area now known as Egypt, and they built the great pyramids at Giza as well as the Sphinx as an homage to their kind. They were even said to have mated with human women during religious rituals, siring some of the most famous of the Egyptian pharaohs, including the beautiful and cunning Cleopatra herself.
According to said local farmer, only the fall of Egypt to the Roman Empire halted the inevitable proliferation of these dread creatures throughout the globe. Once discovered by the emperor Caesar Augustus, they were declared witches and hunted to near extinction. The few survivors that were left were said to have fled their native shores, ostensibly to take up residence in some other, unknown part of the world...
Sommerley House
Hampshire, England
June 19, 1994
My love,
By the time you receive this, I will be dead. Forgive me.
I have brokered a compromise to save what is most precious to me, a bargain I purchase with my own blood. I agreed to this in order to spare you a lifetime of running, of peering into the shadows as we have been these ten long years, trying to escape the hungry death that pursues us.
They will sheath their claws and let you go, of that I am certain. But one day they will come for our daughter.
Until she is old enough to stand against them, teach her to run. Teach her to hide. Tell her everything about me and my kind, or tell her nothing at all. I leave it to you, my darling wife.
I find myself utterly wretched in my final hours, lost without you. My surrender to you was total, and for that I cannot feel regret, regardless of the price I am made to pay. True love can be a blessing or a curse, and for us I fear it has been both.
But it is the only real thing of value I have known in my life. The one thing I know will last forever.
I do not believe there is an afterlife for creatures such as I, but pray with all my heart I am wrong, so I may hold you once again. Heaven or hell, it matters little. As long as we are together. Until then I remain—
Eternally yours,
Rylan
Had she known today would be the last day of her carefully controlled, predictable life, Jenna might not have devoted quite so much time to her mundane routine of errands, shopping, and cleaning her apartment, which hardly seemed worthy endeavors in light of what was about to happen. But as these pivotal days are wont to do, this one began with no hint of what was to come.
It was Sunday, it was July, and it was hot. Blazing hot, the kind of heat rarely seen in Southern California, the kind that shortened tempers and wilted flowerbeds and sent the already overtaxed electrical utility into spasms that created rolling blackouts across much of her tiny beach community. Even the bikini-clad rollerbladers and the oiled weight lifters and the legions of tourists with cameras and plaid shorts
that normally populated the beachfront boardwalk in front of her apartment had fled, leaving only groups of wheeling, sharp-eyed seagulls to patrol the bleached sky above.
Because Jenna was immune to temperature extremes—she’d lived everywhere from Africa to Alaska without the slightest discomfort—she was the only one in the grocery store that didn’t appear to have just emerged from a sauna. Everyone around her was sweating, shuffling, drooping like so many unwatered houseplants, but even in a fitted wool dress, with the substantial weight of hair so long it fell nearly to her waist in thick, honeyed waves, she remained cool and comfortable, as if encased in a preserving layer of ice.
The butcher, however, did not appear to be encased in ice.
“What’ll it be, miss?” Beneath his white paper hat, his eyes were half-lidded, his cheeks were flushed red. His breathing was labored and sweat beaded his brow and upper lip. He seemed on the verge of some kind of cardiac event.
“The rib eye,” she said, pointing through the glass case.
“Filet’s on sale,” he said, listless. “Wouldn’t you rather have a nice filet?”
Yes, she would. But she couldn’t afford it.
“Thanks, but the rib eye’s fine.” Along with the salad fixings and bottle of cabernet already in her basket, it would make a nice dinner. She normally ate her meals at work—standing up—but tonight she was off and treating herself.
