Shadowman (14 page)

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Authors: Erin Kellison

BOOK: Shadowman
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From inside the painting, Khan reached her way. A current of Shadow emerged from the canvas, rippled through the air like a smoky arm, to stroke her cheek.
She reeled back.
“Believe it,” he said.
Of all things, she thought of the gate. If she listened hard enough, she could still hear its rattle,
kat-a-kat,
calling her. She had placed her hand on the lever. And then Khan was there, looking at her with such terrible joy and yearning. He'd
known
her. Had asked her how she'd found him. He'd called her . . .
“Kathleen.” Layla's heart tripped. “You think I'm Kathleen.”
And when she'd recoiled from him and explained who she was and why she was there, he'd obligingly filled her head with his illusions. He'd said everything she wanted to hear, promised a prize interview with the elusive Talia Thorne. And after one conversation with Adam her welcome at Segue was assured, when Adam had been so vehement only moments before about getting rid of her.
Kathleen O'Brien. Talia's mother.
No.
It was ridiculous.
They were trying to control her.
“Stay away from me.” She swatted at the Shadow still hanging in the air.
“Why do you think you were drawn here? Why endanger yourself for the wraiths when there are so many other things you could do with your life?”
She wasn't going to listen. “You guys are screwed up.”
Layla gathered the stack of books. She was going back to her room, where she would think of what to do next.
“Layla!”
She walked briskly down the hallway. She'd seen and experienced enough in the last twenty-four hours to know that the paranormal existed alongside this world, and that she was involved somehow.
But this was too much. This was personal.
The hallway grew dark, but she ignored it. Ignored him. Was it even possible to have a relationship with that . . . creature?
She turned the corner to the elevator just as Talia stepped out. A bright smile lit her face. “You going somewhere?”
“Forgot something in my room,” Layla mumbled. The soul ache flared, and not even holding her breath would dampen it. Talia. Her daughter from another life? Riiight.
“Then I'll see you back here . . . ?”
“Yeah, sure,” Layla lied and punched the button.
Little lines of worry formed between Talia's brows as the elevator doors closed. Well, Talia would just have to deal. Better yet, she could ask her father what was wrong. As far as Layla knew, he was still down there.
Or, oh, God, maybe he was in the elevator.
She hugged herself tight.
She had to find Zoe. Zoe hated the Thornes. Everyone could see that. If anyone would give her a straight answer, it was she. Although . . . she
had
been the one to tip her off about Khan. Did she even have a sick sister?
When the elevator doors opened she took the right-hand hallway, not the left. To the west wing.
Layla would see for herself.
 
 
“What did you do?” His daughter slowly turned to address the Shadow in the corridor. Her pale hair whipped in the churn of her panic.
Do? I told her the truth.
“She just got here!”
And Fate is conspiring at this moment to take her away.
A human man exited his office, blanched in fear of the gathered storm, then darted right back inside.
Talia jabbed a finger in the air and spoke through clenched teeth. “This is family business. I'm going back to my apartment, and you will meet me there. Because I'll be
damned
”—her voice rose, took on the shattering quality of a banshee—“if I'm going to let you screw this up for me.”
She turned to the elevator and slapped the button, then waited, glowering in Shadow, for the vehicle to come.
Khan sensed Layla's soul light above, moving briskly. He'd intended to push her, whether she was frustrated or not. She wasn't a weak woman, and they had so little time. Kathleen had taught him how each beat of time was precious.
But he hadn't intended to hurt Layla, and though he tried, he couldn't fathom the turn of her mind that had sent her fleeing from him. It wasn't his claim on her. That had only shocked her. And he knew, though she might not admit it to herself, that she was intrigued and aroused by him. He had only to stoke that fire, and she would be his.
So what had gone wrong? She'd come back to Earth for Talia, so rediscovering her connection to her daughter should only be joyful. An end to her loneliness.
He didn't understand. Mortal men had declared women's minds a mystery. He agreed. Perhaps Talia could shed light in his darkness.
 
 
The elevator doors slid open. A long, quiet hallway stretched before Layla, the rug a classic red, beige doors with white trim off to each side.
Crap.
Which floor, which door would lead to Zoe?
She stepped out and knocked on the first one. Waited. No answer. Knocked again. Somebody was going to open up or she'd kick it in. She rapped again, harder. Waited.
Down the hallway, a door opened. A woman leaned out in a bathrobe with a towel turban on her head. “Can I help you?”
Yes.
Layla strode over. She wanted a peek in the woman's room. “I'm looking for Zoe Maldano.”
The apartment had the same neutral furnishings as Layla's own, though it was cluttered with framed photographs and papers. A coat was thrown over the arm of the couch. The place was lived in, nothing unusual. The woman herself was damp from a shower. The lines on her face put her in her forties. Brown eyes.
“Zoe is on the fifth floor.”
“Which room?”
The woman held out a hand, but her expression had turned wary. “I'm sorry, I don't think we've met.”
Layla smiled. “Oh, I'm Kathleen O'Brien, Talia Thorne's long-dead mother.”
“Is that supposed to be funny?”
“Hilarious,” Layla answered, then strode to the elevator again. Fifth floor, this time.
 
 
“You've got to go easy on her,” Talia was saying. “You just can't blurt this stuff out. It has to be handled carefully.” She threw her hands up in frustration and paced to the other end of the couch, where Adam was sitting on the arm. From him, Khan felt her draw strength; her frustrations eased somewhat.
“She came back for you,” Khan said. “And she found you. That should make her happy.”
But he understood what his daughter meant. Some things took time and some things were best left unsaid. One glance in the wide mirror over a dining table was sufficient to illustrate the problem. His daughter, like every other mortal, had shaped his appearance based on her conception of Death. For her, he was a man of impenetrable darkness, lacking any pigment of any kind, except for his eyes, which glowed red in the reflection. A demon man in a cloak. Still, after all this time.
“She's overwhelmed and confused,” Talia argued.
“She knows me. On every level but consciousness, she accepts me.” It was consciousness that concerned him most.
“Then court her.”
“There is no time.” Not when he had to search for the devil as well. The creature should be near Segue already, setting her traps.
“You don't have a choice.”
Adam put an arm around his wife, easy in his affection. “You want me to go after her? Do a little damage control?”
From another room, a babe let out a piercing wail. Talia fetched him, and returned, bouncing the infant on her shoulder with a
shhh, shhh, shhh.
Khan had seen his daughter's children before, little bright lights full of noise and wonder, but Shadow was deepening in this one. The black of his eyes was only the slightest indicator of his heritage, though. The squalls that lifted from his throat already stirred Twilight. Did his mother know?
“Talia, girl, watch that child carefully. Power rises in him.”
She stopped bouncing. Her jaw went tight as her concern filled the space. “I know.”
“Like you, if he crosses into Twilight, his mortal half will perish.”
Adam stroked Talia's arm. “I'll hold them here. I'll hold them both.”
“But, Adam,” Khan observed, “you have two children, a wife, and only two hands.”
A loud crack brought Adam up. “Gunshot.”
 
 
Layla found Zoe waiting for her outside one of the doorways, so the woman below had to have called to warn her. Zoe was in a holey T-shirt, the curve of one breast visible, and rolled-up Segue sweats.
“Abigail is sleeping. If you make a racket, I swear I'll kill you.”
“Apparently,” Layla said, “I'm already dead.”
“Look, I don't do drama, and you seem unhinged.” Zoe made a little scat motion with her hand. “So just turn yourself right around and go back the other way.”
“I need to talk to you. Now.” Of all the people Layla had met at Segue, Zoe was the least complacent. She had to have an idea about what was going on.
“I have a gun just inside the doorway. Please give me a reason to use it.”
“Why did you want me to write an article exposing Adam and Talia? What are they really doing here? Why are they messing with me?”
Zoe leaned inside her apartment and came back with a Glock. “Found it outside last week.”
Layla startled, then put two and two together. “That's my gun.”
Zoe smiled. “Finders keep—”
And the gun went
crack
!
Khan was already dissolving into Shadow when Talia begged, voice urgent, “Find her. Please, don't let her go.”
It was easy to locate Layla; no soul fire glowed so bright, so sure. She stood inside the living room of another mortal woman, laughing, “How about I show you how to handle a gun, eh?”
Fate had made yet another attempt on her life, but Layla still lived, and she was unharmed.
The woman next to her was young and hale, but her spirit was broken, curious faint trails of Shadow in the air around her. She was wan with exhaustion. And he knew why. In the next room, her kin, a sister, lay propped on a bed. The woman bore an awesome gift, rare to humankind. In ancient times they would have called her an oracle or a prophet and set her up like a queen. Mortal blood and Shadow commingled within her veins, and thus she aged rapidly toward the brink. She would have crossed into Shadow already if not for the devoted hold of her sister, who would not let her go. And so love once again trumped death.
“It's not a crime to want to protect myself,” the woman said to Layla. Her expression was rude, her emotion sick with old fear. “Wraiths keep coming, but Adam won't let me have a gun.”
“You hold on to it for now; just be careful. There's no standard safety on it, just that little lever on the trigger, so don't rest your finger there unless you mean it.” Layla, whose anger had abated, held the gun out. “Go on, Zoe, take it.”
“Fine.” The girl named Zoe grabbed the gun. “I have to have something.” What went unsaid but Khan understood was that she had to have something . . . for her sister. “The world's gone fucking nuts.”
“You're telling me,” Layla said.
“Oh, give it a rest,” Zoe sneered. “My sister's told me about you. I know you're in thick with them and I know why.”
“Care to share? Because frankly I'm at a loss.”
“It's really not my problem.”

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