Hunting the Shadows

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Authors: Alexia Reed

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Hunting the Shadows
By Alexia Reed

Amy has spent her life in isolation. Locked away in the Centre, a secret government facility where children with extraordinary abilities are raised as highly skilled fighters, she longs for a normal life. A life where being around people doesn’t overload her sensitive telepathic mind. A life where she can’t see through the eyes of a murderer as he hunts down his next victim…

J.C. Nikolaiev was a top researcher, but when his conscience got the better of him, he tried to destroy his work and free his subjects—and was imprisoned as a traitor. To save himself and prevent more people from dying, J.C. must catch the serial killer stalking the halls of the facility. But his only leads come from a woman whose thoughts have invaded his mind…

Finally out of the psych ward, Amy joins forces with J.C. to find the killer before he closes in on them. Can their growing attraction withstand the truths they uncover?

80,000 words

Dear Reader,

I love May. In my part of the world, May is the beginning of
two things: beach season and festival season. Granted, beach season is just
barely starting in May, but it’s still starting. And with the unseasonably warm
winter we’re having, perhaps it won’t be too cold for the beach, even in early
May. As for the festivals, well, in my area we’re spoiled for choice. From April
to October we have everything from BBQ and beach festivals, to apple, strawberry
and watermelon festivals—even a river festival. It seems like every week there’s
something new to look forward to!

But if festivals don’t interest you it doesn’t mean you can’t
have something to look forward to as well. Each week in May we showcase a
variety of new Carina Press titles.

This month we’re proud to present debut author Cynthia
Justlin’s compelling novel
Edge of Light.
A true
spine-tingling and thrilling romantic suspense, this is one that will have you
on the edge of your seat and wondering where this author has been! Get ready for
a fantastic read.

Kicking off May, we have
Brook Street:
Rogues
by Ava March, which finishes up her fantastic male/male
historical novella trilogy. Releasing along with Ava is paranormal romantic
suspense author Alexia Reed and her novel
Hunting the
Shadows.

Later in May are three historical romances joining the Carina
Press lineup. From Jennifer Bray-Weber comes a swashbuckling pirate adventure,
The Siren’s Song.
Alyssa Everett gives us a
charming and passionate Regency romance in
Ruined by
Rumor.
The White Swan Affair
by Elyse Mady is the third of
our historical romance offerings this month.

Not quite historical romance but in the historical period
comes Christine Bell’s new steampunk romance
The Bewitching
Tale of Stormy Gale.
Join Christine as she takes you on a romantic
adventure through time.

Two erotic romance books are sure to satisfy those craving a
slightly naughtier story. Check out
Let Me In
by
Callie Croix, a hot BDSM novella, and Daire St. Denis’s erotic ménage romance
Party of Three.

Rounding out the month of May are releases from two returning
Carina Press authors.
Guarding Jess
by Shannon
Curtis is the next novel in her McCormack Security Agency series and the
follow-up to her debut title,
Viper’s Kiss.
Rebecca Rogers Maher offers up a satisfying and emotional, yet sexy, read in her
contemporary romance novella
Snowbound with a
Stranger.

I hope you enjoy this month’s new releases as much as we’ve
enjoyed bringing them to you.

We love to hear from readers, and you can email us your
thoughts, comments and questions to
[email protected]
.
You can also interact with Carina Press staff and authors on our blog, Twitter
stream and Facebook fan page.

Happy reading!

~Angela James
Executive Editor, Carina Press

www.carinapress.com
www.twitter.com/carinapress
www.facebook.com/carinapress

Dedication

To my support group—my family and my neighbor, Joyce Warren. You believed in me and helped feed the muse, but most of all, you enabled my love for reading. And to my Secret Roomers, coffee shop partners in crime, and everyone who has ever read and critiqued something of mine. You kept me sane in a way only another fellow writer can.
Especially
when I ask crazy hypothetical questions like ‘how do you think it would feel to move the ground with your mind?’ or ‘do you think you could do an MRI on a cat shifter during a transformation?’

Chapter One

He hated to admit it, but if he’d listened to the
warnings of his stalker, he might have avoided this clusterfuck.

J.C. Nikolaiev whipped his body through thick brush, ignoring
the pain that tore up his side, every muscle in his body tense as he searched
the shadows for an explanation of the voice in his head.

“Listen to me. You need to get off the mountains.”

He was losing his mind. He’d finally lost his sanity in this
world where monsters really did exist in the form of the psychic agents he
served with…
had
served with.

Monsters didn’t always hide in the closet. Sometimes they
looked like regular people with abilities too terrifying to imagine.

Like him.

He couldn’t stop moving. If he didn’t escape and seek medical
help soon he was going to be in deep shit. He was losing too much blood, the
sticky wetness already soaking the material of his shirt against his side. His
hand shook as he pressed it against his ribs but nothing alleviated the agony of
the cuts.

J.C. glanced over his shoulder toward the smoke that lifted in
the distance, snaking through the trees and around the rocky ledges of the
mountainside. The fire from the explosion might have slowed the agents down, but
they weren’t far behind.

Hunched against the chill of the wind, he limped over a fallen,
rotted tree, fingers tightening around his gun as he quickened his pace.

“Move, J.C., before they find you.”

“Damn it.” Pressure built behind his eyes as the words buzzed
inside his head, the sensation unnerving and warm.

He studied the overhang of rock and the darkness beneath it. As
much as he hated to give the voice credit, whoever she was, she was right.
Staying still meant giving up and he was far from ready to hand himself over to
be executed.

“Who are you?”

“Someone trying to help. You need to hurry before you’re
surrounded.”

“No shit, Sherlock.” He stepped off the path toward the sound
of trickling water. His pace slowed to a stagger, his movements dulled by the
gnawing pain. If he could follow the river down the mountain…

“The trap has been set at the ridge.”

Damn them. How had they gotten in front of him? Frustration
made his pulse jump, his fingers curling into a tight fist until pain radiated
up his wrist. J.C. shoved the woman’s words away and stepped cautiously over a
log.

Branches rustled overhead and he turned sharply toward the
threat, catching a blur of movement in his peripheral vision. They were closing
in.

A man jumped from the thick canopy of leaves above.

His assailant dropped into a roll, then fired a gun as he came
to his feet. J.C. jerked to the right and lifted his hand to create a shield of
air. He’d already aimed his own gun, pulling the trigger, but the man had
already disappeared in the thick forest.

J.C. ran. He harnessed his psychic energy, focusing his mind on
the ground until he could feel everything that made it up—not only the rock but
also sediment and organic material. Directing his ability down, he scattered the
molecules. Rocky plates pressed up against each other, the ground lifting and
falling to create a wall of dirt.

Ahead, the jagged path was riddled with sharp drops. A misstep
and his ankle gave out, the wind snatching his grunt of pain. He didn’t have
time to regain his balance or retrieve the fallen gun. Someone crashed into the
back of his knees and he fell hard. His forehead cracked soundly against a
tree—the impact making his vision darken.

Warm blood slid from his hairline, down the side of his
face.

“Damn it, J.C.” A dark-skinned agent stood five feet away, his
body flickering as he faded into the shadows. Rematerializing at J.C.’s side, he
shifted into a fighter’s stance. “Do you know what you’ve done?”

J.C. wheezed out a breath. Slapping a hand at the ground, he
rose unsteadily to his feet. “What
I’ve
done? Tell
me, Davan, what have
you
done to stop the
Council?”

What had any of them done?

He backed away. The others were coming. He could feel it,
apprehension brushing through the base of his mind before he even heard the
crunch of rock under their feet. The crackle of electricity licked along his
skin in warning. Instinctively J.C. lashed out to counteract the psychic energy
that struck him in the chest, burning through his mental shields. He steeled
himself against the pain, gritting his teeth as he fought the specialized attack
of Stefan Gurvitch. The fiery touch reached deep, stealing the oxygen from his
lungs. His skin prickled, his ears popping as though he’d fallen into a
vacuum.

Davan’s shadows shifted around him—a play of darkness that
solidified to form a prison. The shadows tightened like a python around J.C.’s
wrists, restraining him. It was as real as the moss against his palms and the
dirt under him. He could do nothing but wait. Glaring at Davan, J.C. shook from
the force of the shadow manipulator’s power.

His body weakened under Stefan’s attack—an assault that had
once shredded an enemy’s mental shields so badly that the man went insane and
died within twenty-four hours. There wouldn’t be a lot of time before his mind
gave in to Stefan and rendered him completely defenseless.

Before that happened, he snapped the phantom chains enslaving
his wrists, the shadows dissipating in a darkened cloud. Twisting his body, he
avoided a series of hard kicks as Davan attacked him. He gathered molecules of
air, turning each into a heated spray of vapor. Davan leaped back in a
summersault and dissolved into a trail of smoke before landing safely back on
the ground.

“Give it up, J.C.,” Davan ordered.

J.C. bared his teeth, ignoring the sharp stab of Stefan’s mind.
It felt like someone was taking a hacksaw to his brain, each slice causing his
consciousness to waver. “Never.”

He would never stop. They’d have to kill him first.

Branches and leaves snapped to the left and J.C. spun, using
the momentum to grab his attacker’s arm. He charged in a blur of movement,
slipping behind the woman to catch her around the neck. “Drop it, Darilynn. Damn
it, I don’t want to hurt you.” He whispered against a lock of black and pink
hair.

They were his friends. He trained with them. Had suffered
with them
. He’d destroyed his reputation
for them
and this was how they repaid him. Betrayal
fueled his anger as he glared at the gathering group of agents.

The gloved hand holding the knife relaxed and the blade fell
harmlessly to the ground at his feet.

He pressed his palm against her throat, eyeing Davan over her
shoulder. At the touch of his skin to hers, he blinked back the images of blood
vessels and cells. The blueprint of the insides of her body flashed in his mind.
One thought and a careless tap of his finger could shatter all of her bones.
“Don’t come any closer.”

Stefan backed off, his mind retreating with a reverberating
snap as the shields came back in place, and J.C. took a few quick breaths to
steady himself.

A bright orb flew through the trees. Ajay. He held Darilynn
closer. The light blinded but no attack came. It simply faded and a small blonde
stood in the place of the orb. He looked into the violet eyes of Davan’s
partner.

“Come back with us, J.C.,” Ajay said soothingly. “Do you really
think you can fight everyone? You don’t want to do something else you’ll
regret.”

It was nothing but a stall tactic as they tried to figure out
how to regain control.

“Anyone else have anything to say?” The words were said through
clenched teeth, a low hiss as he swayed on his feet in challenge.

J.C. took a step back, easing Darilynn with him. He felt more
than heard the movement behind him. He eased his fingers up, searching for the
carotid artery. He pressed against it, interrupting the flow of blood and oxygen
to her brain.

Within seconds she went limp.

He let go and whirled around in time to dodge Stefan, who’d
stepped out of the trees. While the first blast of kinetic energy missed him,
the second caught him in the shoulder. The third sucker punched him in the gut.
He staggered back.

Tossing his hands in the air, J.C. gathered the energies within
him. He twisted them around his hands and shoved them down at the ground. The
blast rippled out of his fingertips, the earth shaking beneath his feet as it
whiplashed outward. While some agents dodged the blast, those caught in the
radius of the attack braced themselves as the ground ripped at the seams. He
exploded into action, branches slapping at him as he ran.

Electricity hit him from behind. It dropped him to the ground,
every muscle in his body locking. His heart jolted against the force of it. He
couldn’t move, could barely even breathe when a gun clicked against his ear.

“Game over, J.C.” Stefan stepped around him. “Don’t try
anything. I swear, I
will
pull the trigger.”

* * *

J.C. wasn’t listening. He’d stopped sometime after the
opening of the trial. The evidence was damning. They didn’t need him to admit
anything. The proof of what he’d done had been gathered, hanging over his head
like a proverbial axe. One word from the Council was all it’d take to put his
sentence through.

Death if he was lucky.

A chill settled at the base of J.C.’s neck, a shiver that had
nothing to do with the temperature and everything to do with the drugs that had
been pumped through his veins. Supposedly, it was to ensure the safety of the
Council members and everyone else in the room. Didn’t they remember he’d been
trained to fight without the use of his abilities? Somehow, knowing that he was
neutralized made them all feel safe, despite the fact that it would take little
work to pick the lock of the handcuffs and shackles.

Not that he would necessarily have the time to do so with the
other members of his team hidden somewhere in the darkness that surrounded him.
But that wasn’t the point.

The point was that they were idiots to think that blocking the
psychic energy would make him less dangerous.

He nearly laughed at their audacity.

“J.C., are you listening?” J.C. flicked a glance toward
Broderick Gurvitch who stood at the edge of the spotlight, then turned to level
a stare at the Enforcer who’d spoken, his lips hardening with disdain.

“Of course I heard you, Dare. I just don’t understand why we’re
here.”

This “trial” was a formality, nothing more. Once it was over,
they would take him away. He’d failed to stop the experiments by destroying the
labs and now he would be punished. The question was whether they would kill him
immediately or make him suffer. He knew first hand that there were worse
punishments than death.

He scratched beneath his jaw at an itch that was probably all
in his mind. Narrowing his eyes, J.C. searched the shadows around him for the
others that sat out there, watching. He could see the faint outlines of their
bodies.

The courtroom was designed for anonymity. While the agents sat
at the edge of the spotlight around him, the Council members were farther back,
deep in the darkness.

Once, when he’d been ten, he and Stefan snuck inside and turned
on all the lights. They’d expected medieval torturing devices, but instead had
found walls covered in medals and plaques in memory of soldiers and other
important figures who’d died in the name of freedom.

“J.C., you blew up the east wing.”

Wrong. He’d
attempted
to blow it
up. There was a difference between blowing up the entire wing and only a few
labs. The bomb didn’t nearly have the radial blast he’d intended.

He’d failed.

J.C. stood still, not moving from the center of the light while
Dare paced back and forth. Those black, soulless eyes pinned him. “We found the
bodies of four scientists.”

The bodies
. J.C. frowned.
What fucking bodies?

“What are you talking about?” He asked slowly, giving his mind
time to catch up. Everything had been planned. No one was supposed to get hurt.
He’d made sure that the scientists knew the plan and would evacuate. While the
agents were distracted chasing him and trying to put out the fires, the
scientists were supposed to be getting the children out.

“What’d they do? Did they catch you setting the charges? Did
they try to stop you?” Dare’s flat voice slashed ruthlessly through J.C.’s
thoughts.

His pulse pounded in his ears and his palms went damp. The room
seemed to close in, making it hard to breathe. “No one was supposed to get
hurt.” His words came out hard and stilted.

What were they doing there?

His hands fisted in the restraints. He needed to do
something—it didn’t matter what. Raw, pent-up frustration burned in his gut.
Helplessness boiled at the surface, threatening to throw him over the edge. Not
only had he done nothing to help the children, good men and women had died
because of him.

“Oh please.” Caleigh stepped from the shadows, her voice
cutting and thick with sarcasm. The second Enforcer moved in, every graceful
step designed to draw the eye. “Their remains were found among the rubble in
your
lab.”

Reaching forward she gripped his jaw, turning his face toward
her. Long, crimson nails dug into his skin, making it hard to swallow. He didn’t
move a muscle as Caleigh purred, “You’ve been a very bad boy, J.C. I’ve been
waiting to get my hands on you for a while now, but they told me I couldn’t play
with you. Remember how much fun we had the last time?”

Involuntarily, he shuddered. He would do anything to forget.
“Nothing was supposed to happen to them.” His voice was dull, the words like
plaster on his tongue.

As Enforcers for the Council, they were charged with the duty
of keeping the agents in line and dealing out punishments. While Dare was known
as Death, Caleigh excelled at bringing out the nightmares of an individual. The
final Enforcer was Ashton, a man who took pride in creating his own version of
zombies out of his victims. If the Council turned one of the Enforcers loose on
an agent, nothing could be said or done to stop it.

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