This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

Beyond The Shadows

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Contact Information: [email protected]

Cover Art by
Arial Burnz

The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

PO Box 708

Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

Publishing History

First Faery Rose Edition, 2013

Print ISBN 978-1-61217-987-2

Digital ISBN 978-1-61217-988-9

Published in the United States of America

Praise for LaVerne Clark

“In two prior wonderful novellas, LaVerne Clark left me with only one complaint—the stories were too short! I am thrilled to know she has written a full-length book. With her strong writing skills and talent for spinning suspense and romance into her tales, we're all in for a most satisfying read.”

~Lynne Marshall, multi-published author of contemporary and medical romance

~*~

“With a strong, flawless voice LaVerne Clark crafts a beautiful edifice of works, emotions and ‘what-if’ possibilities that will remain with you long after you read the final gripping sentence of
AFFINITY
.”

~Vonnie Davis, award-winning author of

Mona Lisa's Room
and
Rain is a Love Song

Dedication

To my Simple Savings buddies

and hugely talented writers:

Kelly Matsuura, Aislinn Batstone, Heather Jensen, Kim Algarve, and Kira Gutowski.

Without your belief, love, support,

and occasional butt-kicking,

this book would never have left the confines

of my imagination.

Thank you for helping me bring it to life.

Chapter One

Constable Nathaniel O’Leary leaned forward in his seat, binoculars trained on a figure through the tinted windscreen. The man darted towards the back of the building he watched. The man’s shifty movements were as obvious as wearing a neon sign proclaiming he was up to no good. It seemed to Nate that the dark dank air in these filthy back alleys of Auckland’s inner city intensified whenever scum like the guy he and his partner tracked were around.

“Someone needs to eradicate these cockroaches from the surface of the earth.”

His partner, Kelly Appleton lowered her own binoculars and shot him a glare. With a subtle jut of her chin, she reminded him of their company. A cameraman sat in the backseat filming for a segment of the reality show
Cops.
The single eye of the lens
focused in on him, and Nate cursed under his breath. Irritated, he turned his attention back to the action through the glass.

Damned, nosey people. Can’t a cop do his job without interference from all sides these days?

With public trust in the police of New Zealand at an all-time low, their Sergeant seized at the opportunity to lift the curtain on his division when approached by the national broadcaster. The idea was to humanize them, make them relatable. But, in his opinion, it only succeeded at making show-ponies of them all. When he walked the streets now, even out of uniform, he had women of all ages bat their eyelashes and suggest he cuff them—
wink, wink.

Nate snorted in disgust and ignored Kelly’s quizzical look. His gaze sharpened as their target scurried towards the warehouse. Nate felt the old, familiar buzz of adrenaline kick through his veins. They knew this is where the deals were taking place. Now, they just needed the proof.

The man they watched glanced furtively around and lifted a small parcel from under his jacket.
Bingo.
Nate noted the way he shifted his weight from foot to foot. His movements were jerky, and his gaze darted everywhere. The guy couldn’t keep still—the sure sign of an addict. That made him unpredictable and dangerous.

Clenching his hands into fists, he jiggled his knee before Kelly’s palm covered it.
Speaking of dangerous things.
Warmth crept up his thigh, traveling swiftly towards territory strictly out of bounds. He turned his head and scowled darkly to cover the reaction her touch evoked. Clear, blue eyes widened, and she snatched her hand back, touching the small gold cross around her neck instead.

“Sorry,” she mumbled and bit the fullness of her bottom lip.

He’d spent countless nights fantasizing about sucking that lip. It was bad enough he’d had a hard-on for her since the first time she strode into the station as a new recruit twelve months ago. But to have the sergeant buddy her up with him for front line experience was excruciating. It had been a very long four months. Thank God, it was almost over.

Kelly released her lip. Her attention riveted on the scene before them. She shifted closer to the windscreen and the movement sent a wave of her subtle perfume washing over him. It sent him straight back to rock-hard hell.

Biting off a groan, escape uppermost in his mind, Nate dropped his binoculars and shoved open the door. He needed air.

“What are you doing?” Kelly hissed making a grab for his forearm.

He avoided her touch and stepped out of the car. “Getting the show on the road.”

“O’Leary!”

He ignored her protests and softly closed the door. The reek of old cooking fat and fish greeted him. He filled his lungs full of the tainted air, flushing the warm, womanly scent threatening his sanity from his system. Relief flooded through him,

Once he could think straight again, he realized he’d made a rookie’s error. This was meant to be a surveillance mission only. If a transaction took place, they were to note the details, descriptions of the players involved, and report back. They’d been tracking the ringleader of the sophisticated methamphetamine outfit for a couple of weeks. The boss would have his balls if he messed this up.

He shrugged. There was no going back now, especially with a camera crew watching his every move.

Careful to keep to the shadows, he crept closer to the corner of the neighboring building. The smell of fish seemed to permeate from the very brick as he flattened himself against them. Risking a quick peek, he noted two men in a doorway, only a few meters away, conversing fiercely. One seemed especially agitated while the other remained icy calm and in control.

He ducked back, a grin stretching his lips.
Jackpot.

The low murmur of conversation suddenly spiked with a raised voice, but the calm man squashed it with a firm reply, cowing the other into silence. It sounded like they were wrapping up the deal. His fingers touched the handle of his Taser. For protection, it was useless unless the subject was nearby. But until the policy for New Zealand police changed and they were permitted to carry firearms, it was all he had. Besides, it was more than they’d had a few years ago.

Nate took a couple of steadying breaths, unclipped his Taser, and stepped out into the open to confront the men.

“Police! Stay where you are, you’re under arrest.”

He approached them with slow, measured steps. Two shocked faces looked up at his sudden appearance. The junkie’s skin glistened with sweat. His eyes rounded into huge orbs and his body trembled uncontrollably.

“Don’t move!” Nate boomed and stepped closer, tracking the man with his weapon, anticipating flight. With his attention on the one about to flee, he didn’t catch the movement of the other man until it was too late.

The sharp crack of a gun registered in Nate’s ears a split-second before the bullet punched into him, stealing his breath. It pierced the protective vest like a knife through butter. The vest was stab proof, not bullet proof.

The impact spun him around, turning the world into a kaleidoscope of colors before he slumped to his knees. His eyes widened on the sight of Kelly running towards him, her mouth open in a scream. At least, he assumed she screamed. He couldn’t hear anything past the blood roaring in his ears.

The ground rose up to meet him and his temple hit the concrete, but he didn’t feel a thing. The darkness had already swallowed him whole.

****

Kelly paced the hallway of Auckland Hospital, a third cup of coffee in her hand.
If only it were whiskey.
The image of Nate going down, the blood blooming a red stain over his chest, and the sound of his head smacking the ground replayed in her mind. Her teeth began to chatter again, and she ruthlessly bit down on her tongue to halt the show of weakness she despised. Not here, not now.

She couldn’t shake the feeling
she
had been the reason he left the squad car so abruptly. If only she hadn’t sat there in stunned confusion when he left. If only she’d managed to prevent him from making such a foolish move, no matter that he outranked her. If only she’d been quicker, smarter. If only…

She pressed her lips together and stared down into the cup of murky brown liquid, blinking back the threatening tears. The waiting room was full of their peers. When one of them went down, it was personal. Outside, the media had descended like locusts. No way was she going to bawl like a baby in front of any of them. She’d worked too hard to be accepted as one of the boys to ruin it now.

Her hands clenched around the paper cup. It crumpled under the assault, sloshing coffee onto the shiny linoleum floor. Grimacing, she tossed the remnants into the bin.

The doors of the ER swung open and a doctor marched out, his mouth set in a grim line. She watched his dark eyes scan the room before finding and connecting with hers. Her stomach plummeted.

No. Don’t come near me with your bad news.

Ignorant of the silent order, he made a beeline for her. She swallowed and glanced over at the Sergeant for help. Surely, this was his job. The Sergeant stepped back and nodded, indicating he was comfortable with her conversing with the doctor. Kelly straightened her shoulders and set her jaw. She could do this.

“Constable Appleton?”

She lifted her chin and took a deep breath. “Yes.”

The doctor stopped in front of her and looked up to meet her gaze. He didn’t put out a reassuring hand or soften his gaze, but that wasn’t unusual. When a woman stood a touch over six feet tall, was built more solidly than a supermodel, and wore a uniform to boot, people assumed she wasn’t as feminine as her shorter counterparts. Therefore, they reasoned, she needed less comfort when times were tough. They forgot she bled just the same as anyone else. She heard him take a deep breath and steeled herself for the worst.

“I’m afraid it’s not good news.”

The blood drained from her cheeks and her head grew fuzzy. His voice continued as if at the end of a long tunnel, amplifying and echoing in the strangest of ways. Her breath came in short pants, a scream lodged in the back of her throat.

“We’ve put him into an induced coma to give his body a chance to heal itself. We’ve done all we can, but he lost so much blood. We’re not sure what that combined with the concussion has done to him, yet. We have him scheduled for a MRI scan later today. We’ll know more then. It’s up to him now.”

A touch to her arm jerked her back to full awareness, and she ordered her knees not to buckle.

“Are you okay, Constable Appleton?”

Her eyes focused on the concerned gaze of the doctor, and she nodded quickly. “Yeah, sorry. Just taking it in. It’s been a crappy day,” she understated with a tight-lipped smile, barely acknowledging the sympathetic one in response. “How long before you bring him out of his coma?”

“A couple of days should be enough to stabilize him.”

“And when is he likely to regain consciousness?”

“If the trauma isn’t too bad, I’d expect him to wake up a day or so after that.”

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