Lost in Shadow (A Shadow Walkers Ghost Novel) (29 page)

BOOK: Lost in Shadow (A Shadow Walkers Ghost Novel)
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Arching an eyebrow, Thorne stared hard at the Scottish warrior standing in front of him. “I would suggest you think long and hard on your request. I don’t want to lose you to the Wraith realm but what you ask…the price is steep.”

Hands clenched at his sides, he pounded out the words. “I. Will. Pay. The. Bloody. Price.”

“You don’t even know what it is, so don’t be so quick to accept.” Raising a hand, Thorne sent Colin across the room, the force of his will pushing him down in the chair. Sitting across from him, the god spelled it out.

“There is always a price. There must be balance. In taking from death, you must pay with life—if I do this, you will agree to give up your immortal soul, to never see this woman again. She will forget you, fall in love with someone else…not you. You will never love anyone. You will die alone, with no friends, you will become mortal, to live a mortal’s life, your memory will be wiped and when you die—no matter natural causes or murder—you will become a wraith, doomed for all eternity.”

Thorne paused, looking at Colin, waiting for the answer. “I accept. I gladly pay the price but for one thing…” he was stopped by the god standing up, getting in Colin’s grill.

“You dare to ask for anything?” he softly growled as the room swirled with electricity. Colin drank it in, feeling stronger, the broken furniture in the room lifted from the floor.

“Give me one last night with her before you wipe our memories, wait until tomorrow…please.” Colin stared back at Thorne meeting his gaze. Let him be damned, he was anyway but none of this had ever been Emily’s choice. He wanted to give her a chance at happiness, even if it was with someone else. The beast within wanted to rage, Colin quieted it down, telling it better for her to be alive than dead, she deserves to be loved.

The god’s gaze was unfocused as if he were speaking with someone or watching something only he could see.

“As it’s after midnight—I will give you from the coming dawn until the clock strikes midnight. Tell her she came back, survived. And in believing in you broke the curse. Nothing more. As far as she’s concerned you’re still immortal.”

Nodding in agreement, Colin motioned for Thorne to continue. “After tonight, when she wakes in the morning, she’ll be back at her hotel, won’t remember anything other than enjoying a lovely holiday. Her friend simply fell down the stairs and went home early. When she’s asked about the mysterious Colin, Emily will laugh, saying what a funny joke played on her. She will believe you to be some crazy re-enactor who went around having fun with tourists.

“This is all she will remember of you—a joke to be told to her friends, family…husband…children. There’s more. In asking for this, when the clock strikes midnight you will die, turn wraith and be condemned instead of living out your life as a mortal. Colin—are you quite sure you want to do this?”

“My miserable life is nothing compared to hers, I give it freely.” Colin felt a weight lift, something changed inside, the ice around his heart splintered, shattering, he was free. The remaining day with her was completely and utterly worth his soul.

“So be it.” Thorne vanished, the air in the room settled, the furniture reassembled, hitting the floor with a loud bang. Emily’s startled cry ripped through the silence. Colin turned. She was sitting up, the coverlet falling to her waist, wounds healed, the skin shiny and pink, the bruising gone.

Crossing the room in quick strides, he knelt at her side. “Thank the gods.” He held her face in his hands, searching. “You scared the hell out of me Emily, don’t ever do it again. I think you’ve given me gray hair.”

“You can’t get gray hair, you’re immortal. Why don’t I hurt? Did you heal me? I knew you would rescue me.” She leaned forward and kissed him.

“You saved me.” His voice was rough as he took possession of her mouth, kissing her as a drowning man gasping for air.

“Why did you leave Ravensmore?” He picked her up from the table, carrying her to the bed, crawling in beside her.

“I was exploring the castle. In Abigail’s old room a ghost appeared. He told me to look outside. I saw you embracing another woman, kissing her when you came out of her house. He said awful things about you having lots of women, said she was one of your many mistresses, you would never commit to anyone, least of all me, and you were only using me. I was angry so I ran. In the garage, I looked for a car to take, one that could handle the snow, that’s when Rawlins showed up. He put something over my face and when I woke up, I was in the dungeon at Castle Gloom.”

“I couldn’t find you anywhere. You’ve no bloody idea how worried I was.”

“How long have I been out?” Trying to sit up, she was healed but still tired from her ordeal. Colin eased her back, propping the pillows behind her, handing her a cold Pepsi.

“Next time you’re mad at me. Ask. ‘Twas a simple explanation—the woman was Mrs. Burns, a widow, her cow was stuck in the snow and mud, I freed it. I went inside to wash the muck off my hands, when I came out, she hugged me, kissed me on the cheek to thank me. That damnable ghost was always causing trouble when Abigail was alive; he was from France, loved gossip and causing problems. It must have pleased him to turn you against me. He hated me, thought I was barbaric, not good enough for her. I’ll find him; send him to another realm. I may not be able to destroy him, but I can banish him.”

“I overreacted. I’m truly sorry.” She blew out a sigh.

“Given what happened to you, it would have been easy to jump to conclusions, especially after the way I reacted when you talked about staying. I was so bloody stupid. I want you to stay here with me. I need you.” He wanted to say those three little words to her…yet…even after losing her, a part of him was still afraid.

Emily smiled up at him, tears swimming in her eyes. “I love you. I think I have since the moment I found your button in my pocket.”

As the fire crackled, they drank wine, and he spent the rest of the deep night showing her how much he loved her the only way he knew how…with his body.

Chapter 23

The curtains were drawn around the bed. Colin was fast asleep when something woke him. With a start, he sat up, reaching for his dagger under the pillow.

Every sense on alert, he pulled on his kilt and boots, careful not to wake Emily. Drawing the curtain open, he peered out. Something wasn’t right, every sense screamed for him to be wary.

“Well, it’s about bloody time you got out of bed. Granted it is almost time for breakfast, however while some start the day with coffee, I prefer killing Shadow Walkers—find it puts a lively skip in my step for the rest of the day, really starts you off on the right foot.” Rawlins was relaxed in a chair in front of the fire, hand casually resting on his sword, gun at his other hip, daggers in his boots. “I see you found dear Emily, did she enjoy her accommodations?”

“She could have died. What the bloody hell were you thinking? Why would you take a woman and not come straight at me? And to Gloom, my bastard brother’s hovel of a castle?” Colin’s voice was low, deadly.

“It pained you to see Hamish’s castle again didn’t it? Hurt you to know I had your woman, that she might die by my hand with nothing you could do to stop me? I’m going to kill you once and for all—you’ve been an annoyance to me for over four hundred years and I’m tired of the game, I have other things to do.”

With that the Day Walker leapt up from the chair, dropping into a fighting stance. “Let’s do this the old-fashioned way, yes? Bullets are so tiresome; I much prefer the cut of a blade.” Brandishing his sword, he gestured at Colin.

Filled with anger at his last day with Emily being interrupted by that bloody bugger, he lunged forward…missing Rawlins by a foot. Rawlins had a surprised look on his face as he taunted, “Being with a woman has made you slow Shadow Walker.”

Colin had forgotten how fast he was as a Shadow Walker. He’d been the best warrior of his time, and Colin would be damned if he’d let Rawlins kill him before he had the rest of his time with Emily.

Feinting to the left, he caught the Englishman on the sleeve, a red stain appearing on the white fabric of his shirt. “Bring it, ye English whoreson. I’ve things to do with my lady and I don’t want to waste my time with the likes of you—let’s finish this once and for all.”

Grudgingly, Colin had to admit, Rawlins had also been a great warrior, with his Day Walker power, he might have the edge but Colin had willpower, and in many cases a warrior’s will could help him win the day when he was outmatched.

“You almost killed Emily. Her blood is on your hands. Your minions beat her, broke her ribs, and shot her before walling her up alive. I will not let that treachery go unpunished.”

“I should have taken her for my own, had a taste before I left. Oh well, another time, mate.” Striking faster than the eye could follow, Rawlins slit Colin’s leg from thigh to knee, spinning around, dancing back. “As to my men, well, you know how soldiers are, they need to be kept in line or they get unruly.”

Pain lancing through his leg, Colin stumbled before regaining his balance. “I remember how much you relish a fight, especially when the odds are in your favor.”

“Rather slow this morning,” Rawlins taunted, cutting him across the chest as the red stain spread, the blood running down in rivulets to the floor.

Scoring Rawlins across his back, he opened a large gash across the Day Walker’s shoulder. “You stood and watched while my brother killed me, made a deal with him to betray me, killed my men, and destroyed their families, no longer,” he roared, bringing his blade down, catching Rawlins on his bicep with this strike.

Emily woke with a start, she’d been dreaming of swordfights. Rubbing sleep out of her eyes, alarms went off in her brain as she reached over for Colin and found the bed empty. She pulled on his shirt, jumping out of bed, horror on her face at the scene playing out in front of her.

That awful Rawlins was back, in their bedroom no less, fighting with Colin. Would it ever stop? She was so tired of blood and swords and guns, she wanted peace and quiet. Her adrenaline flowing, she tried to tiptoe over to the door to summon help. They were so focused on killing each other, neither noticed her. As she reached the door that damned ghost, Frederick, pushed her. She tripped, hitting the table, knocking a vase to the floor, sounding like an explosion, shattering against the stone floor.

Both men froze, mid-strike, looking at her. Rawlins tipped his head to the ghost who promptly vanished. He then stalked towards Emily, sword raised, ready to strike. Emily screamed, back against the door, nowhere to run. As the sword was about to take her head off, she slammed her eyes shut, hoping it would be quick and painless. Hearing a dull thud, she cracked one eye open.

“No!” she screamed, seeing Colin on the ground, Rawlins standing over him. His blade, razor sharp, cut through Colin’s shoulder. “’Twas a good fight Colin. You were a worthwhile opponent, there are so few nowadays, we are a dying breed. I’ll miss you as an adversary. Wanted you to know old chap, I never condoned what Hamish and Abigail did to you all those years ago, it went beyond the code of honorable men. Know you understand—I have to finish you off or Dayne will have my head, literally. Die well.”

Kneeling to take Colin’s heart, Rawlins didn’t notice Emily. Tiptoeing along the wall, she picked up the heavy iron fireplace poker. Sending a silent plea out, smelling freshly mown grass, she raised the heavy iron bar, arms shaking, and struck. She’d never know how but by fate or divine intervention she’d managed to stab Rawlins in the chest. Gasping with surprise, he looked up at her. “Well done, milady.”

Rawlins yanked the poker from his chest and vanished.

Falling to her knees, Emily couldn’t stop the bleeding. Blood was trickling out of Colin’s mouth. He was immortal; of course he would live.

“Colin, look at me. Tell me what to do.” She spoke softly, stumbling over the words, stroking his face.

A croak came out, “The Fates have a hell of a sense of humor. I’m dying, ye must…” Colin grasped her hand in his, pulling her close.

“No, that simply isn’t possible, you’re immortal, he didn’t take your heart, you will heal. I need you, don’t leave me.” Her voice was hysterical, rising with every word until she was sure, every animal within a hundred miles winced from the shrill pitch.

“Shhh, lass.” Coughing as blood bubbled on his lips, running down the side of his mouth, Colin seemed to reach deep within for the strength to tell her something.

“I was lost the moment ye tried to help me in the Vaults, the compassion in your lovely gray eyes, the color of a stormy sea—so beautiful, so kind. I wanted to grow old with you, give you the big family you always wanted.”

“Don’t talk darlin’. You are the strongest, bravest man I’ve ever known, you’re not leaving me, not after I’ve finally found you.” Tears streamed down her face.

“I love you. You gave me peace after a lifetime of war. I didn’t think it was possible. Wanted us to dance in the shadows, bathe in the moonlight while every star smiled down on us, for all eternity.” Colin took one last breath, smiled weakly and was gone.

Screaming out in fury, mad with grief, she pounded on Colin, tears running down her face. “Please, don’t leave me. I love you, Colin.” Looking up towards the sky, she cried out, “Terya, please, I beg you, please help him, I will give anything, I entreat you.”

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