Shadow's Awakening: The Shadow Warder Series, Book One (An Urban Fantasy Romance Series) (46 page)

Excerpt from Shadow’s Pleasure, Shadow Warder Series Book Two

Sorcha sat in the stiff wooden chair, nerves vibrating with anxiety, hiding her tension beneath a mask of inscrutable calm. Iris was watching her. So was Garran. Evaluating, weighing Sorcha’s every response. If this meeting went the way Sorcha thought it might, it could be her ticket to freedom.

Was it wrong to use her friend’s misfortune to untangle her own disaster? Maybe. But Caerwyn would be the first to encourage her to do what she had to. For a decade, Sorcha had been trapped in this Sanctuary. Treated like an invalid. Useless.

Ten months ago, Caerwyn, her younger sister, and another Shadow had disappeared. They’d left to go shopping in Knoxville and vanished. Cell records showed the last call Caerwyn had made was from the mall outside the city. A short conversation with her mother, saying they were on their way home. Then nothing. Caerwyn’s car, her phone, every sign of the girls had disappeared.

No one would clear Sorcha to search for them. Her mentor, her parents, even Iris and Garran had deemed Sorcha too fragile to leave the Sanctuary. It was bullshit. She wasn’t fragile. Not any more. If she could hold it together long enough to get through this meeting, she’d prove it to them.

Sorcha took a small sip of the lukewarm coffee in front of her. The remains of their breakfast was scattered across the table. So far, they hadn’t accomplished much. The new Shadow, Hannah, her bonded Warder, and his friend were telling their story a second time. Recounting how Hannah had escaped a secret lab run by a corrupt Warder, while those around the table listened intently, hoping to scavenge any details they’d missed the night before.

Iris, the Keeper of the Sanctuary, sat at the head of the long table, her graying hair in its customary bun, wearing yet another of her loose dresses. Why she liked the hippie grandmother look, Sorcha had no idea. As a Shadow, Iris could have kept her hair the same rich brown it had been in her youth, could have smoothed every wrinkle from her skin.

Then again, Sorcha wasn’t exactly the height of fashion herself. This morning she wore an embroidered tunic her mother had made her over dark cotton leggings. She hated the outfit. Most days she put on jeans and a graphic t-shirt. But today Sorcha needed those in charge of their Sanctuary on her side. If dressing to please helped, Sorcha would do it. When she got out of here, she was leaving the ugly tunic, and all the others like it, behind.

Garran sat opposite Iris at the other end of the table, absently stirring his coffee. The burly, grizzled elder Shadow looked bored, but he listened to every word. The renegade Warders and Hannah were their best lead on the missing Shadows. So far their information was both encouraging and deflating. Finally, after all these months, they knew who had Caerwyn, her sister Lissa and their friend Sara. They knew all three had been alive as recently as a few days before. They also knew the Shadows were being held as part of a sinister plan to breed a Shadow-Warder.

Sorcha tried not to listen as Hannah described talking to Lissa. Hannah’s light, clear voice faltered. Lissa had told her the Director was trying to create his Shadow-Warder the old-fashioned way. Sorcha focused on the golden surface of the pine table, concentrating on the cycle of air in her lungs. In and out. Moisture prickled the corners of her eyes. Bright, sunny Caerwyn was being raped. Repeatedly. Since the day of her capture. Caerwyn of the quick smile and goofy jokes no longer spoke, had completely withdrawn. Hannah’s guilt flooded across the table, almost swamping Sorcha’s shields.

Sorcha withdrew mentally, furiously shoving Hannah’s emotions away. If she were a better empath, Sorcha would draw all that dark, sticky guilt from the girl, soothe her, help her work through the pain. Hannah had no reason to feel guilty. Her own escape was a miracle. Trying to save the others would have doomed her. At least now they had some idea what had happened to their missing.

Sorcha was going to get out of the Sanctuary. She was going to find Caerwyn. She was not going to think about the hell Caerwyn was going through. She couldn’t. Not yet. When Sorcha found her friend, she’d use every bit of her empathic ability to help her heal. If Sorcha let the reality of Caerwyn’s circumstances get to her, she’d never be able to do anything. Sending part of her consciousness to her inner mind, Sorcha wove reinforcements into her shields, strong enough to block Hannah’s emotions. Sorcha was the one Shadow with the skills to find Caerwyn and the other girls. She had to maintain the illusion that she could handle the outside world, or they’d never agree to send her.

Even with her reinforcements, their emotions battered at her, a tidal wave she struggled to hold back. Sorcha’s only chance was physical distance. If she could get far enough away from the saboteur at the Sanctuary, she could rebuild her shields, this time strong enough to keep herself safe. It all depended on what happened in the next few minutes.

The Warders and Hannah had finished their story. Voices rose around the table, distracting Sorcha from thoughts of her friends. It seemed the Shadows couldn’t decide what to do next. The two Warders and Kate looked faintly disgusted. Sorcha agreed. She loved her people, but sometimes they were all talk, no balls. Taking a deep breath she leaned forward in her seat. Showtime.

Into the argument, Sorcha said, “I’ll find them.” Silence fell as the room turned to her. Surprise on half the faces. Since she hadn’t spoken since she’d entered, it was possible most of them had forgotten she was there. “I’ll find them,” she repeated. “That’s why you asked me here, isn’t it?”

“Sorcha,” Iris said, her placating tone sending Sorcha’s teeth grinding together. “You can’t go out there alone.”

“I was a tracker,” Sorcha responded, willing herself to be calm. Reasonable. Mature. “I’m trained to fight. And I’m the best we have at finding what is lost. I should have been out there before this. Now that we have an idea where to look, I’m going.”

“It’s more than you can handle,” Iris protested. “I’d hoped you could guide one of the others from here.”

“No,” Sorcha said. “It’s too complicated. This Director is using spell craft. I have to be closer.”

Sorcha didn’t know that it was true, but it probably was. Kate leaned in, anticipation pulsing over her skin. Sorcha tried not to flinch. Kate was a great friend, but her energy was potent stuff.

“I’ll go with her,” Kate said. “I can keep her safe long enough to find them. I can help her get them out.”

“Hell no, girl,” came booming from Garran’s end of the table. He waved his big hand at Kate, gesturing for her to sit back. “If I’d had a say in it, you’d never have stepped into this one’s escape.” He pointed a thick finger at Hannah, who looked surprised and uncomfortable at the attention. “You’re unreliable and half crazy, Katherine. Drunk more than sober, holing up on your island, turning your back on your people more often than not. Denying your birthright…”

“Fuck you, old man,” Kate shouted, her face red, eyes wet with rage. “You don’t know what you’re talking about—”

“I know we’re not risking Sorcha or these girls to you. If you want to contribute, get your shit together. Otherwise, sit back and shut up.” Garran slapped his bear paw of a hand on the table for emphasis.

Kate slumped in her seat, vibrating with humiliation and fury. Sorcha knew her well enough to know that Kate wanted to storm from the room in a fit of temper. She might have done it, proving Garran right. But she, like Sorcha, loved Caerwyn. Kate would stay. She might be imagining inventive ways to kill Garran, but she’d stay.

The room was silent. Sorcha sensed she’d gained ground. Garran hadn’t said it was a bad idea for Sorcha to go in search of the Shadows, just that Kate couldn’t go with her. Progress.

Wondering what argument to bring up next, she heard someone say, “I’ll take her. I can keep her safe.”

Looking up, Sorcha locked eyes with the owner of the deep voice. It was the Warder. Not Hannah’s. The other one. He studied her with eyes of opalescent hazel. They shimmered in warm shades of green and amber, set in golden skin. His hair was longish, shaggy around his face, thick and dark blonde. Add in sharp cheekbones, lush lips and a warrior’s build, and you had one hell of a sexy man. Warder. Not a man. Either way, Sorcha wasn’t sure she wanted to go anywhere with this guy. Males who looked like him were usually trouble.

On the other hand, he’d risked everything to help his friend save the woman he loved. Loyalty like that said a lot. Carefully, Sorcha extended her empathic senses toward the Warder. Nothing. She tried harder, reaching for him. Still nothing. Odd. Even focusing just on the Warder, she felt the others’ emotions pushing through. But not him. His emotions were tightly contained, not bothering her at all. Unable to stop herself, Sorcha smiled, believing for the first time this was going to work.

Kiernan sat back when the Shadow smiled at him. Fuck, she was gorgeous. He was going to have to watch himself with her. Long, thick red hair. Milky skin, green eyes, full lips. That ugly hippie shirt hid a lot, but he was pretty sure she was all curves under her dumpy clothes.

At first he’d thought she was a little mouse. Creeping into the room, head down, staying silent as the others spoke. He’d wondered why she was there at all. Apparently, she was some kind of tracker. Good, since a tracker was exactly what they needed. For some reason the others didn’t want her out in the human world. He’d been shocked as hell when she’d spoken up. Quiet, but her voice had been firm, her eyes direct. He got the feeling she wasn’t prepared to give in. She’d need a backbone if he was going to take her to Charlotte with him.

“It sounds like you left a mess behind,” said the bulky, rough-looking Shadow at the other end of the table. Kiernan wasn’t sure of his name. Garran? “How can you guarantee Sorcha’s safety when you don’t know what you’ll be walking into?”

“I can’t guarantee anything,” Kiernan said, evenly. “Conner can’t go back. But I should be clean. There’s one person who knows I was involved in helping Hannah get out. And since she helped Hannah herself, I think she’ll keep her mouth shut.”

“Still, going back at all is extremely risky.” This from Iris at the other end of the table. The older Shadow leaned forward, hands folded in front of her. “Bringing Sorcha with you elevates the risk. She hasn’t been out in the human world for years. Her shields are too weak.”

“I am not too weak,” the redhead said. Kiernan could tell she was trying not to raise her voice. Despite her even tone, her eyes sparked with aggravation.

Sorcha. An old Scots name. With that hair, he would have guessed Scottish or Irish.

“Sorcha,” Iris said, in the same overly patient tone she’d used earlier.

Sorcha gave a sharp shake of her head, cutting Iris off. She turned her green eyes to Kiernan.

“Iris is right,” she said. “Going back is dangerous, even if you think you’re clean. You got out. We’ve offered you safe harbor here. Why would you be willing to take the risk?”

Kiernan was surprised. He thought she wanted to go. But Sorcha was smart to question his motives. He didn’t know the captive Shadows. His single point of loyalty in this room was Conner, and he’d already helped his friend save Hannah. Kiernan’s job should be done. On top of that, Shadows and Warders were forbidden contact. Just sitting here surrounded by Shadows broke fifteen hundred years of separation. If the Warders found out where Kiernan had been for the past twenty-four hours, he’d be in a world of hurt. If they caught the redheaded Shadow with him, so would she.

“Look,” he said, leaning toward Sorcha, meeting her green eyes with a steady gaze. “You don’t know me. And I don’t know your missing females. But I’ve never turned my back on an innocent. Not when my job is to save them. Especially not when one of my own is working with demons to rape and torture them. I don’t care about walking away from the Warders. But I’m not leaving those girls with Michael.”

“What’s your plan?” Sorcha asked, her tone a challenge.

Kiernan grinned at her. He was pleased to see a flush bloom in her cheeks. Nothing would happen between them. They’d be walking into enough danger without adding the complications of sex. Still, he’d never been able to resist flirting with a woman, pretty or not. And this one was even more beautiful when she blushed.

“I thought we’d work that out between us,” he said, his grin widening further as the pink of her cheeks deepened. A throat was cleared at the other end of the table. The older Shadow, he thought. Garran. Just as Kiernan turned to address the interruption, the door to the room slammed open. Through it stepped a male Shadow. Tall and spindly, he should have appeared weak. Instead he radiated energy. Whoever the male was, he was powerful. And he looked pissed.