Shadow's Awakening: The Shadow Warder Series, Book One (An Urban Fantasy Romance Series) (9 page)

“She’s going to need more clothes,” Conner said. “What she’s wearing looks like its about to fall apart.”

“We can stop on the way. I’ll run into one of the big superstores on the highway. You can leave me there and I’ll take a bus home.”

“I can drop you closer,” Conner said, shaking drops of water from his hair and reaching for the clean shirt and jeans Kiernan held out.

“No,” Kiernan said. “Keep moving north. I can find my way home. I think you two need to get out of here before anyone realizes she escaped.”

Chapter Four

Michael sat at his desk, back straight, hands flat on the wooden surface, his stomach wrapped in a greasy knot. He felt like this every time he contacted Druj—anxiety and anticipation tangled so his heart pounded and he wished he’d skipped his last meal.

Michael was a member of the Directorate, one of the seven leading Warders, and he’d just used forbidden blood magic to summon the most powerful Voratus in existence. He couldn’t imagine the penalty if he was caught. It would be worse than death, of that he was certain. It was worth the risk. He knew that as well.

Just beyond Michael’s fingers on the desk lay a notebook, about the size of a journal. The pages were lined, the cover dull brown leather. On the open page, Michael had used a spell-crafted fountain pen to write a message. His own blood served as the rusty ink. The page read, “Found potential subject. Held in a nest. Escaped. Come at once.”

They had been looking for such a subject for years. Untrained Shadows past puberty were extremely rare. The Shadows were annoyingly proficient at identifying the few random Shadow births in the human population. Such children were uncommon and were never left unprotected. The children and their families were safeguarded and, as the Shadows matured, they were offered the training they needed. What Druj and Michael wanted was a female Shadow without training, and thus without defenses. A female mature enough for their experiments but who couldn’t fight back. They’d been so close and hadn’t even known.

Michael felt Druj arrive. Raising his head, he saw a stranger standing in the doorway. Only the ancient eyes and charge of immense power marked him as the powerful Voratus. All other physical features were new. Druj must have burned through his previous body since Michael had last seen him. Most Vorati kept a body they’d infected for at least a few years. Druj was the one Voratus Michael had known whose power was so strong he burned through the bodies he infected in weeks. Sometimes in just a few days. In this form he was tall, with wide shoulders, his pale blond hair shorn close to the scalp in a military cut. His clothes were elegant but spare. Dark pants, dark shirt. He blended right in at the Warder Citadel.

“Do you care to explain your message?” Druj asked, his voice icy and unyielding. Michael felt his stomach tighten another notch.

“I got word from a source the there was an untrained Shadow female, mid-twenties, being held in a nest about thirty minutes northeast of the city. Apparently they’d had her for over six months,” Michael said, using every skill he had to keep his voice as even and cold as Druj’s. Weakness would be fatal to both his body and his plans. If possible, Druj’s face grew even darker.

“Who is this source?” Druj asked, turning to pace the floor before the desk, hands gripped behind his back. “One of your people?”

“No, a Voratus. I have no idea how it knew to come to me, but it said it had been an occasional member of the nest and they’d been preparing to turn the girl over to us. It stopped by this afternoon to feed when it saw two Warders blow the place up and walk off with the Shadow. It didn’t recognize the Warders and doesn’t know where they went.”

“Where is this creature?” Druj said. “I want to see it.”

“That’s not possible,” Michael said, forcing himself to meet Druj’s penetrating eyes. “It’s dead.”

“How is it dead?” Druj asked slowly, as if Michael were mentally challenged.

Michael swallowed hard. “I killed it.” Michael grimaced and spread his hands before him, palms up, placating. “I lost my temper. Surely you can understand how angry I was to hear the Shadow was missing.”

“Yes,” Druj said, his voice low, frozen silk. “I can understand gross incompetence driving you to murder.”

Druj’s threat wasn’t lost on Michael. Killing the Voratus had been a childish mistake. Normally Michael had a firm handle on his emotions. Sloppy, impulsive behavior did not earn a seat on the Warder Directorate. But the Voratus had been both obsequious and dead stupid, a combination that had enraged Michael. One minute Michael held it to the ground, fingers wrapped around its throat. The next he’d jammed a calix deep into its chest, his fury soothed by the whirlpool suck of the copper dart.

The demon’s life force had drained in a wave, relaxing the stiff, resistant body from head to toe until the host was a waxy, dead shell. Killing should only be a rush for evil creatures, but in Michael’s secret heart he reveled in control over life and death. It was fortunate for the good of this world that he’d been born to hunt Vorati. At times, Michael wondered who would be the victims of his need if he hadn’t had such convenient targets. In truth, he’d been bored with hunting Vorati for years.

An instant after the Voratus had fallen limp, Michael regretted killing it. At a minimum, he should have tried to force a confession. Or let Druj torture it for answers. As the most ancient Voratus, Druj likely had methods of torturing his kind that Michael didn’t know. Well, nothing he could do about it now. He stood, resolved to face Druj on his own level.

“The blame here rests on both of us,” Michael said. “My Warders may have saved her, but it was your Vorati who held her captive for half a year without giving her over to you,” Michael said. “If we’re going to succeed, you’ll have to control them.”

“Yes, I’m aware of that,” Druj said with irritation. “Changing thousands of years of social pattern in shortsighted, solitary predators is not an easy task. My Vorati aren’t pack animals, nor are they long-term planners. The idea of teamwork is anathema. Do you have any idea how long it’s taken me to get them to nest? And even then, the vast majority are still more successful hunting on their own. They are sharks, not wolves.” Abruptly, Druj ended his lecture. He stared over Michael’s head into the dark night beyond the window.

The lights of the city street glowed. The sidewalks were empty. This part of downtown shut down after dark, abandoned by the professionals who inhabited its office buildings during daylight hours. It was the ideal location for a Warder Citadel. No one noticed the Warders’ comings and goings as they might have in a residential neighborhood. The underground parking garage and on-site lodging offered them a degree of anonymity. Michael had approved the design of the modern building personally. He loved it as he loved few things. The austere, elegant lines suited him. He’d vacated the old Citadel as soon as he convinced the other members of the Directorate to approve the expense of the seven-story structure.

“When do you expect the Shadow will be delivered? Is it not protocol for your people to bring in any untrained Shadow they find?” Druj asked in a mild tone that didn’t fool Michael. Druj was enraged.

“There have been no reports of a Shadow coming in. The Voratus who watched the attack couldn’t describe the Warders well enough to pin them down. Two big guys in dark clothes.”

“That describes every male Warder soldier in existence,” Druj said with a snort of disgust. “Idiot. I’m understanding better why you killed him.”

“Idiot is an understatement. I’ve interviewed the handlers. They all claim their Warders are accounted for and none were in that area today. I asked them to double check and report back. All Warders confirmed. We have one on retreat for the past two days at Alexa’s recommendation. The rest were either on patrol today or off duty. None were in the northeast this afternoon.”

“But you don’t have proof,” Druj said. “This information is self-reported. It’s useless.”

“They have no reason to lie,” Michael protested. “This is a Shadow, not a pot of gold. My Warders have no interest in getting mixed up with the Shadows. No Warder has gone near one of them since Rome fell. They certainly wouldn’t risk punishment to protect a Shadow. It’s absurd.”

“Even so, keep a closer eye on your people,” Druj said. “My demons might have been holding her, but one of your Warders has her now. We need her. She is the closest we’ve come to our goal in years. Our current subjects have proven unsatisfactory.”

“We have a tight community,” Michael said. “There aren’t many places to hide. It may take me a few days, but I will hunt them down.”

“See that you do,” Druj said. Again, he stilled and grew absorbed with the view of the dark night beyond the window, sifting through his thoughts. As though he had come to a conclusion, Druj turned from the window and met Michael’s eyes.

“You know, there are times when I question our alliance. At first it seemed expedient to work with you. You desire power and have few scruples. However, you’re also both clever and cautious. You appeared to be an advantageous partner. Unfortunately, our plans seem to be sidetracked at all turns. I’d expected to be further along at this point.”

Druj moved like lightning, turning to face Michael as his hand flashed out. He grasped Michael’s left wrist in a burning steel grip. Michael fought the urge to twist his arm free and forced himself to relax. He didn’t think Druj was going to kill him. Not yet. Druj turned Michael’s arm, exposing the pale blue veins running from the base of his palm up his inner arm.

Druj’s fingers burned into Michael’s wrist, scorching his skin. The sweet, smoky scent of his own flesh cooking reached Michael’s nose. He tried not to vomit. Any damage would heal as long as he was alive when Druj was finished with him. As a fellow predator, Michael knew showing Druj weakness was the quickest route to a painful death. Michael wasn’t the only one who might kill in a temper and regret it later.

He remembered the last time he’d seen Druj kill. Vividly. A Voratus who had failed at its mission. Few knew the demons could feed on their own kind. Michael still had nightmares of the screams as Druj had flayed the demon alive. Hanging from a meat hook impaled in its back, it had flailed in desperation, trying to avoid Druj’s knife. Each cut excruciatingly slow. Perfectly deliberate. Druj knew how to keep the demon’s body alive long enough to extract every morsel of agony and terror. It had died with a grateful whimper. At the memory, Michael failed to suppress his own surge of dread.

Druj inhaled deeply, savoring the emotions Michael couldn’t conceal. Michael swallowed a wave of nausea. It was one thing to know how the Vorati fed. Warders learned that in their cradles. It was another to actually be the food. Watching his own pain and fear nourish the demon was revolting.

“At times like this,” Druj continued, “I reconsider the nature of our association. You’re useful to me, Michael. But you could be useful in other ways. I tire of the need to change bodies so often. If I decided to reproduce, I could diminish my power enough to hold the same body for an extended time. But that would make me less than I am. I find that option unappealing.” His voice rolled slowly over the last word, savoring the taste. Tightening his grip further, he smiled at Michael’s grimace. With a firm yank, he pulled Michael close until his face was inches from Druj’s own. “Do you know what would work better, Michael? If I had a Warder’s body. Your kind are almost impossible to infect. But we’ve found our ways, haven’t we?”

“Yes,” Michael said in a pained gasp. “I’ll get you a Warder if you want one. I’ll find you one. Someone strong.”

“Yes. Maybe we will. Someone like you—strength, power, authority.”

“No,” Michael breathed, forgetting to hide his emotion in the rush of terror.

“You would be so easy to infect, Michael. Most Warders are difficult. All that honor and conviction, the white knight mission to protect the humans. But you—”

Druj leaned in, bringing his nose to the warm skin of Michael’s neck. He drew a slow breath, inhaling the pungent flavor of Michael’s fear combined with moral decay, filtered through the delicious scent of burning flesh.

“It’s been so many years,” he whispered, “since my kind has actually eaten our prey. I miss it. The juicy crunch of your bodies. Dessert after the meal of your terror and pain. Soon, when our plans are complete, we will evolve again.” With a sigh, he pushed Michael away, still gripping his wrist. “Your soul has been rotten for centuries. Infecting you would barely be an effort. Then I would have all of your resources with none of your incompetence. If you cannot be useful to me in this form, I’ll make use of you another way.”

With that, he released his grip on Michael’s arm and shoved him backward. It took everything Michael had not to cradle the damaged limb to his chest. He used the dregs of his self-discipline to remain upright, eyes on Druj.

“Understood. I’ll find the Shadow,” he said.

“See that you do, Michael. My patience will not last forever.”

Druj turned and left the room without another word. Michael knew he was gone, but he never heard Druj’s feet echo down the empty hall. Michael had a limited amount of time to produce the Warder who held their Shadow. If he didn’t find them, it would mean worse than an end to their plans. It would mean an end to Michael’s existence.