Bound to Shadows (26 page)
“You already do.”
“No. I chase people like you, people who destroy others for the fun of it. Money might change
hands in your case, but we both know that is not the motivating factor.”
“Then we die—as simple as that.” He gave me a smile. “Pull the trigger, Riley. I dare
you.”
I stared at him for the longest of moments. I was holding the gun so tightly my hand ached, but
no matter what I did, I couldn’t force my finger to retract against the trigger.
I just couldn’t kill the dream, no matter how much of a nightmare it had turned into.
I lowered the gun. “If you’re going to kill me, just pull the damn trigger and get it over with.”
My voice was weary, yet filled with anger and sorrow.
He smiled. “I never said I wanted to kill you. All I wanted to do was control this
situation.”
“Some things will
never
be controlled, Kye, no matter how hard you
try.” Especially when it came to something as nebulous as love.
“I’ve never yet hit such a situation. You, on the other hand, have wasted a number of good
opportunities. Take, for instance, your much-despised pack leader. When you put the fear of God
into Blake rather than taking him out like you should have, you placed the control back into his
court.” His gaze narrowed a little. “That will come back and bite you in the ass, you know. He
has a serious yen for revenge, and already his plans have begun to unfold.”
“Right now, I don’t fucking care. If you don’t want to kill me, and you won’t be arrested, then
what the hell do you want?” I paused, then added heatedly, “And don’t fucking say
me
, because I’ve answered that.”
“What I wanted—” He paused, and his nostrils flared.
I sucked in a deep breath, tasting the air. Kade was near. His rich, summery scent was coming in
from behind me.
“Riley,” Kye said, his voice flat and yet filled with an odd sense of disappointment. “I told you
to come alone.”
“And you really thought I would?” I hoped Kade was listening, hoped he was aware that he’d been
sensed. “I’m not that stupid, Kye. Nor is the Directorate.”
“This was between you and me,” he said, and something in his manner hardened. It sent goose bumps
skittering across my flesh and had the hairs on the back of my neck rising. “It didn’t have to be
this way. It didn’t have to end this way.”
My gun was up and focused on his head even before he’d finished speaking. “Last warning, Kye.
Drop the fucking gun and put your hands up in the air.”
He smiled. There was nothing sad, wistful, or beautiful about it now. “I told you once before,
bad things happen when you hesitate, Riley.”
It was a warning I’d heard from too many people, and suddenly I felt sick.
His weapon fired. I threw myself sideways but knew I was never going to be fast enough. Even as
my body sliced through the air, I waited for the moment of metal on flesh, waited for that moment
of death.
But it wasn’t my death he wanted.
The bullet ripped past my ear and found its home.
I hit the concrete, rolled to my feet, and spun, a scream of denial tearing past my throat. I saw
Kade standing on the walkway behind us, saw the hole in his chest, the dark blood just beginning
to ooze from the wound. Saw the mess of blood and flesh on the wall behind him. Knew he was a
dead man standing.
His gaze met mine briefly, and he smiled—a warm, wistful sort of smile that spoke of the things
we’d done and the things we would now never do, and then the life left his eyes and he fell, his
body plummeting over the metal railing.
I didn’t see him hit the concrete. I don’t even remember turning or firing the gun.
All I saw was the surprise on Kye’s face a heartbeat before the bullet exploded into his
brain.
Then pain, unlike anything I’d ever felt in my life—pain that was heart and soul and body—hit. I
dropped the gun and doubled over, gasping for breath, gasping for life.
I couldn’t find either, and I hit the concrete hard. Darkness swept in, and then there was
nothing.
Nothing except the need to let go.
I
n the darkness, I existed.
The urge to let go, just to walk away from all the hurt, the pain, and the futile fury over what
fate had done might have been strong, but there was one thing that was stronger.
The other half of my soul, the one that had struggled to retain sanity under the weight of the
werewolf’s needs and desires, hungered to survive, and she would not let me give up.
But I didn’t have the strength to wake, either.
Waking would mean facing the pain and a world without my wolf soul mate.
Waking would mean facing up to the fact that my inability to kill Kye when I had the chance had
led to the death of a good man. A man I’d cared about, a man who had deserved far more than the
screwed-up partner he’d been landed with.
I’d been warned so many times, and I just didn’t have the strength to face that sort of
guilt.
So I existed in the darkness, neither living nor dead, hearing nothing, feeling nothing, doing
nothing.
As time drifted on, voices occasionally broke through the nothingness. Voices I cared about,
people I loved. Quinn was strongest of them all, and yet neither his lilting voice nor his
desperate pleas for me to come back could shatter the shadows that were locked around
me.
I continued to exist, to survive, but that was not a state that could be maintained forever.
Eventually, the darkness began to grow thicker, deeper, and through it I could feel the presence
of another. Not someone I knew, but a stranger. A stranger who waited for the moment of
finality.
My guide to wherever it was my shattered soul was destined to move on to.
Part of me screamed for him to back off, that I wasn’t ready, that there was still too much that
I had to do and had to achieve, but the words swirled into the abyss and the shadows got
stronger, and I knew my body was shutting down. That the silly, insistent part of me that was
struggling to survive was losing the greater battle.
The stranger moved closer.
Held out a hand.
Then another voice entered the shadows. A tiny, happy voice that tugged at my heartstrings and
made my soul ache.
The shadows around me stirred, becoming fainter, until a sliver of sunshine in the form of a
silver-haired, violet-eyed little girl appeared before me.
Riley
, she said, her mind voice holding an edge of censure that made
her seem far older than her years.
You cannot leave with
Death
.
I sighed. The sound whispered through the shadows, stirring them. The man that was Death neither
retreated nor moved forward, but simply continued to hold out his hand.
It was tempting.
So
tempting.
My gaze went back to the sunshine sliver that was Risa.
Death is the easier choice, little monkey
.
Death doesn’t love you. I do. You can’t go
. Tears filled her eyes and
her little face crumpled.
My own shattered heart felt like it was splintering into even tinier pieces.
Risa—
No
. She stamped her foot, her expression filled with stubbornness.
She was a child who had no understanding of what she was asking—who just wanted what she wanted,
and she wanted it
now. You can’t leave me, Riley. I won’t let
you
.
It’s not that easy, monkey—
It is. We love you
. And suddenly she was gone, the darkness was gone,
and I was seeing a hospital room. Not through my eyes but through hers, because I was there on
the bed, surrounded by the machines that were not only keeping me alive but tracking my progress
into death. Rhoan, Liander, and Quinn were there, all looking gaunt and gray and worried. Dia was
there, pale and unhappy. Even Jack and Sal were there, sitting in the background, waiting
patiently for a decision.
People I cared about, people who cared for me, even if we weren’t exactly always
friends.
People I didn’t want to walk away from forever, even if it meant facing up to all the grief and
the pain and the loss.
The image swirled away and the shadows returned. The sunshine beam that was Risa held out her
hand.
Please, Riley
, she pleaded.
Walk back with
me
.
I hesitated. Turned to look at the shadow that was Death. Studied his outstretched
hand.
Please, Riley
, that little sunshiny voice said.
I turned and placed my hand in hers. Her little fingers clenched around mine, and suddenly the
darkness was gone. In its place were scents of antiseptic and humanity, wolf and vampire, death
and unhappiness. Deep, deep unhappiness.
But the most overwhelming scent of all was the scent of soap and powder and everything that was
good in this world.
Risa.
I opened my eyes. Dia’s little girl was sitting on the bed right in front of me and her smile
shone out, warming my shattered soul in a way few other things could right now.
“Riley’s decided to live,” she said happily, and flung herself into my arms, her chubby limbs
giving me a hug that just about threatened to cut off my air supply.
And I didn’t care one little bit—just wrapped my arms around her and held on tight.
The minute I moved, Rhoan gasped and flung himself out of his chair. But it was nothing,
absolutely nothing, compared to the storm of love and relief and pure unadulterated love that
Quinn flooded into my mind. I grabbed it, hugged it to me, filling the dark, empty places deep
inside. Used it as a shield, a barrier to hold back all that pain and hurt and the need for
forgiveness—at least temporarily.
I met his gaze and smiled. A simple smile, and yet it said so much that tears rose in his
eyes.
Then my gaze went to my brother and in those familiar, haunted depths, I saw the shadow of death.
He’d known just how close I’d come.
I smiled and reached out a hand, clasping his. “I had to come back,” I said, my voice croaky and
stiff with disuse. “Because I hadn’t given you and Liander my answer.”
“Answer?” he said, confusion flitting briefly across his face.
“Yes,” I said, and glanced at Liander. “Let’s do it. Let’s start a pack of our own.”
KERI ARTHUR has been nominated in the Best Contemporary Paranormal category of the Romantic Times
Reviewers’ Choice Awards, and recently won RT’s Career Achievement Award for urban fantasy. She
lives with her daughter in Melbourne, Australia.
Be sure not to miss the next
riveting novel by
Keri Arthur!
Mercy Burns
,
the second book in the Myth
and Magic series,
coming in May 2010,
introduces readers to Trae’s sister, Mercy,
as she follows her own twisted path
through the world of were-dragons
toward destiny.
Here’s a special preview:
“We’ll have you out in a minute, ma’am. Just keep still a while longer.”
The voice rolled across the gray mist enshrouding my mind—a soothing sound that brought no
comfort, only confusion. Why would he say I shouldn’t move?
And why was he saying it to me? Why wasn’t he saying anything to Rainey, who’d been driving the
car?
Ignoring the advice, I shifted, trying to get more comfortable, trying to
feel
. Pain shot from my side, spreading out in heated waves through my body.
The sensation was oddly comforting, even if it tore a scream from my throat.
If I could feel, then I wasn’t dead.
Should I be?
Yes
, something inside whispered.
Yes
.
I swallowed heavily, trying to ease the bitter dryness in my throat. What the hell had happened
to us?
And why did it suddenly feel like I was missing hours of my life?
The sharpness digging into my side felt jagged and fat, like a serrated knife with thicker,
heavier edges. Yet there were no knives in the car. People like me and Rainey didn’t need
knives or guns or any other sort of human weapon, because we were born with our own. And it was
just as dangerous, and just as accurate, as any gun or knife.
So why did it feel like I had a knife in my side? Where the hell had it come from?
I didn’t know.
There was just too much I didn’t know.
I tried to open my eyes, suddenly desperate to see where I was, to find Rainey, and to
understand what was going on. But I couldn’t force them open and I had no idea why.
Alarm snaked through the haze, fueling the growing sense that something was
very
wrong.
I sucked in a deep breath, trying to keep calm, trying to keep still, as the stranger had
advised. The air was cool, yet sunshine ran through it, hinting that dawn had passed and that
the day was already growing. But that
couldn’t
be right. Rainey and
I had been driving through sunset, not sunrise, enjoying the last rays of the day before the
night stole the heat away from us.
Moisture rolled down the side of my cheek. Not a tear. It was too warm to be a tear.
Blood
.
There was blood on my face, blood running through my hair. My stomach clenched and the fear
surged to new heights, sticking in my throat and making it difficult to breathe. God, what the
hell had happened? And where the hell was Rainey?
Had we been in some sort of accident?
No
, came the answer from the foggy depths of my mind.
This was no accident
.
Memories surged at the thought, though the resulting images were little more than fractured
flashes mixed with snatches of sound, as if there were bits that my memory couldn’t—or
wouldn’t—recall. The deep, oddly familiar voice on the phone who’d given us our first decent
clue in weeks. Rainey’s excitement over the possible lead on not only what had happened to her
sister, but also everyone else who had once lived in the town. Our mad, out-of-tune singing as
we’d sped through the mountains, heading back to San Francisco and our meeting with the man who
just might hold some answers. The truck lights that had appeared out of nowhere and raced
toward us. The realization that the driver wasn’t keeping to his own side of the road, that he
was heading directly for us. Rainey’s desperate, useless attempts to avoid him. The screeching,
crumpling sound of metal as the truck smashed into us, sending us spinning. The screaming of
tires as Rainey stomped on the brakes, trying to stop us from being shunted through the guard
rail. The roar of the truck’s engine being gunned and a second, more crushing sideways hit that
buckled the doors and forced us through the very railing we’d been desperate to avoid. The fear
and the panic and the realization that we couldn’t get out, couldn’t get free as the car
dropped over the ledge and smashed into the rocks below, rolling over and over and over
…
The sound of sobbing shattered the reeling images. Deep, sobbing gasps that spoke of pain and
fear. It was me. I sought desperately to gain some control, to quiet the sobs and suck down
some air. Hysteria wouldn’t help. Hysteria
never
helped.
Something pricked my arm. A needle. I wanted to tell them that whatever they were giving me
probably wouldn’t work because human medicine almost never did on us, but the words stuck
somewhere in my throat. Not because I couldn’t speak, but because I’d learned the hard way
never to say anything that might hint to the humans that they were not alone in this
world.
And yet, despite my certainty that the drug wouldn’t work, my awareness seemed to strengthen. I
became conscious of the hiss of air and of the screech and groan of metal being forced apart.
Close by, someone breathed heavily; I could smell his sweat and fear. Farther away was the
murmur of conversation, the rattle of chains, and the forlorn sighing of the wind. It had an
echo, making it seem we were on the edge of a precipice.
What was absent was Rainey’s sweet, summery scent. I should have been able to smell her. In the
little hatchback, there wasn’t much distance between the passenger seat and the driver’s, and
yet I had no sense of her. No
feel
for her.
Fear surged anew and I raised a hand, ignoring the sharp, angry stabbing in my side as I
desperately swiped at my eyes. Something flaked away and a crack of warm light penetrated. I
swiped again, then a hand grabbed mine, the fingers cool and strong. I struggled against his
grip but couldn’t break free, and that scared me even more. He was human; I wasn’t. Not
entirely. There was no way on this earth he should have been able to restrain me so
easily.
“Don’t,” he said, his gravel voice calm and soothing, showing none of the fear I could smell on
him. “There’s a cut above your eye and you’ll make the bleeding worse.”
It couldn’t get worse, I wanted to say. And I meant the situation, not the wound. Yet that
little voice inside me whispered that the pain wasn’t over yet, that there was a whole lot more
to come.
I clenched my fingers against the stranger’s, suddenly needing the security of his touch. At
least it was something real in a world that had seemingly gone mad.
The screeching of metal stopped, and the thick silence was almost as frightening. Yet welcome,
if only the pounding in my head would stop …
“Almost there, ma’am. Just keep calm a little longer.”
“Where …” My voice came out little more than a harsh whisper and my throat burned in protest. I
swallowed heavily and tried again. “Where is Rainey?”
He hesitated. “Your friend?”
“Yes.”
His hesitation was longer this time. “Don’t worry about her right now. Let’s just concentrate
on getting you out and safe.”
There was something in his voice that had alarm bells ringing. An edge that spoke of sorrow and
death and all those things I didn’t want to contemplate or believe.
“Where is she?” I said, almost desperately. “I need to know she’s okay.”
“She’s being taken care of by someone else,” he said, and in his words I sensed the
lie.
No
, I thought.
No!
Rainey had to be alive.
Had
to be. She wasn’t just my friend, she
was my strength, my courage, and my confidant, and she’d hauled me out of more scrapes than I
could ever remember. She just
couldn’t
be gone.
Fear and disbelief surged. I tore my hand from his and scrubbed urgently at my eyes. Warmth
began to flow anew, but I was finally able to see.
And what I saw was the crumpled steering wheel, the smashed window remains. The smears of blood
on the jagged, twisted front end of the car.
No, no, no, NO!
She couldn’t be dead. She just
couldn’t
. I’d survived, and she was
stronger—and tougher—than me. How could she die? How could that be possible?
And then I saw something else.
Sunlight. Bright sunlight.
Dawn had passed. Well and truly passed.
I began to scream then, and there was nothing anyone could do to make me stop. Because they
didn’t understand, didn’t know, what a dragon dying unaccompanied at dawn meant.
But I did, and it tore me apart.
Though in the end, I
did
stop—but only because the pain of being
wrenched free of the twisted, broken wreck finally swept me into unconsciousness.
