Shadows of Fate (Shadow Born)

Dedication

To my husband, Jason. Thank you for giving me the courage to pick up my dream, dust it off and make it happen. Your constant love and support is a gift I will always cherish. Thank you for being my sounding board, critique partner and beta reader. This book would not have been written without you.

Tracy, my dearest friend and critique partner, thank you for taking me under your wings and giving me a shove in the right direction.

Noah, editor extraordinaire, thank you for taking my creation and making it shine beyond my wildest dreams.

Lisa, thank you for giving me the chance.

Last but not least, to my little peanut. You inspire me daily. Thank you for showing me the meaning of true strength and courage. You have my heart.

Chapter One

Rotting wood crunched under Brenna’s weight as she stepped into the shadows beside the deserted storefront. The cold night air danced around her, swirling dust and other debris in a funnel cloud near her feet. She slipped her hand inside the pocket of her brown leather duster to pull out the vial of blood her boss had given her with this assignment. It shone translucent in the broken street light, the thick burgundy liquid sloshing against the side of the clear tube. The tainted human blood found at the last crime scene would help identify her mark.
 

The smell of old liquor wafted from the bar across the street, reminding her why she was here. She slipped the stopper from the vile and breathed in the scent. She choked as her senses absorbed the smell. Pungent, but necessary to recognize her target. She massaged the aching muscles of her arms, loosening them for the inevitable fight. Just then the temperature dropped and an opaque silvery light formed in her path. With a groan of frustration, she slipped back into the shadows.

The light developed into a small, childlike woman barely tall enough to reach Brenna’s shoulders. She hovered above the icy pavement, her tangled blond curls wrapped around her like a silken blanket.
 

Brenna stepped between the woman and the window, hiding her from public view. “I told you to stay hidden. I don’t want humans to see you.” The beginnings of a frown creased her forehead as Hilda laughed.

“It’s not my fault they’re prejudice.”

Squeezing her eyes shut, Brenna took a long deep breath. Her kind had power over ghosts, so she could easily make Hilda leave. But, although Hilda could be annoying, Brenna valued her friendship. Still, the last thing Brenna needed was the press to get wind of a non-sanctioned paranormal working with a hunter. The humans were scared enough as it was.

“I found the one you’re looking for. He’s a big Texan.” Hilda puffed out her chest. “Xavier’s pulling the van around so you can do your thing.” She paused, a puzzled look flitting across her face. “I don’t know why he has to be mean. I’m trying to help.”

Brenna could only imagine. Xavier had enough to worry about without having to deal with a spectral hanger-on.

“You should let me help,” Hilda continued. “I could possess the moron and push the demon out.”

Brenna cocked an eyebrow.

“Okay, maybe I couldn’t,” Hilda corrected herself. “But it would be fun to try.”

“No.” Brenna shook her head. “I need you here, watching Xavier. He’s still weak, and I can’t worry about him when I’m inside.” She prayed the ghost would buy it. Although Xavier was still weak from their last case, the mage could take care of himself.

“Okay,” Hilda relented, her eyes bright with excitement. “As long as he doesn’t hog all the action.”

“Go.” Brenna pointed to the van, her patience wearing thin. “I don’t have time for this.”

Pouting, Hilda dematerialized. Brenna prayed she would go directly to Xavier. Or, even better, home.

Brenna moved beneath the broken neon lights of the makeshift street lamps that decorated the once posh Denver street. Her destination was deep within a part of the old city that had been carved out for the humans, so she used glamour as a disguise in order to blend in. The crunch of broken beer bottles and God knew what else ground under her feet as she moved down Sixteenth Street toward the seedy bar. A sign nailed to the roof screamed “Humans Only” in nauseating orange strobe lights.

She slipped the vial of blood into her pocket then wiped her hands quickly against her leather pants. The blood smell held fast. It made her feel dirty, like tiny creatures were crawling along her flesh. She exhaled, and watched her breath dance in the mist. Focusing on the silvery substance, she forced her magic to the surface.

Her duster swayed with her hips as she moved toward the crowded bar. The roar of several old Harleys caught her attention. Their tires bumped across the broken cobblestones before coming to a slow stop a few feet from her. The leader, an overgrown man with a curly, silver braided beard that brushed against his chest, gave her an apprising, yet menacing look. The men behind him, a rugged group of gorillas, added catcalls to his stare.

Testosterone. The universal language of the hard-up male. He wanted to intimidate her. If he wasn’t careful, his bravado would get him killed.

She turned and, with a glare, willed her power to shine forth, a radiant light covering her body. The thugs quickly found something else to look at.

“Careful. She’s a hunter.” She heard one of them say as she turned back, a gust of wind setting loose a few strands of her hair. Although it had been a hundred years since the Fall, humans were still the minority and they had sense enough to recognize a threat.

She liked humans. She was friends with many of them, had sworn an oath to protect them. Humans were fine. But she didn’t like bullies and those were in every species.

The door to the bar hung open, swinging in the breeze, allowing the cold dirty air to seep inside. Music screamed through the entrance, loud and angry. The shrill voice of the female lead pricked Brenna’s ears, making her yearn for earplugs.

It was one of the few dedicated human bars left, which explained the anti-deviant music. Although the law forbid deviants from coming inside unless on government business, the music alone could do the job. With their sensitive hearing, few deviants could tolerate death metal.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Xavier pull the van into the alley beside the abandoned strip mall, hidden.

He was ready. She might as well be too.

Stepping inside, she allowed her eyes to adjust to the pulsing lights as the stench of a hundred bodies assailed her senses. Fear, anger, desire and other mismatched emotions danced across the room, forcing her to keep a tight rein on her powers. Recalling the scent of the tainted blood, she scanned the patrons. The blood here was clean, free from demon taint.

Except one.

Her gaze stretched to the bar. Beneath the glittering liquor bottles and burnt oak, a bottle of Jack in one hand and Grey Goose in the other, stood her target. Dirty blond hair brushed past his eyebrows, the rest tied back in a rubber band. He seemed innocent enough. As he flipped a glass bottle behind his back, muscles rippling on his shirtless body, magic seeped from his skin. It flowed around the women stretched across the bar, their assets on display as well as their lust.

Thankfully, he didn’t get much bang for his buck. This one was weak. Newly possessed, the demon hadn’t had time to gain a strong enough lock on the victim’s body. This shouldn’t take long. The piles of paperwork she had left on her desk might even get done tonight.

She pushed through the crowd, stripping her leather duster off her shoulders as she went. The black corset underneath, paired with tight leather pants, flattered her figure. She turned heads, especially the demon’s. She released the hair tie at the back of her neck. With a quick shake, her burnt copper curls slid down to her waist. She stopped at one of the tiny tables and threw her coat across the barstool.

Eyes closed, she pretended the music was something more aesthetically pleasing as she stepped onto the dance floor, keeping her mark at the forefront of her mind. She felt his eyes on her body as she swayed to the music. Hips gyrating to the heavy beat, she pulled on her glamour to blend in with the other dancers as she let her magic wrap his body. Losing herself in the music, she let him watch her move, feeling his desire amp. His energy vibrated as he made his way through the crowd, his power wild.

His hands draped her hips and he pulled her to him, his magic sliding over her body. Darkness tinged her aura, but she shrugged it off. Dealing with demon magic never got easier, but his wasn’t powerful. Grinning, she wrapped her hand around his neck, pulling him close until her lips brushed his ear. His burning skin jumped against her touch.

They stilled for a moment as the DJ switched tracks. “Think you could get me a drink?” she breathed, brushing a hand down his bare back. “I’m thirsty.” She grinned as he nodded, eager, the demon jumping beneath his skin.

“Anything for you, darlin’.” He wrapped a possessive arm around her waist, moving her toward the bar. “What’s your poison?”

“Whiskey. Straight.”

A grin played on his lips. “My kinda woman.”

Pushing past the other bartender, he grabbed a bottle of Jack and poured her shot. She caught it as it slid across the splintered wooden bar. Tossing it back, she reveled in the slow burn of the liquor. It was an old favorite. Just cause she was working didn’t mean she couldn’t treat herself.

She tossed back a second shot, thankful she didn’t have the ability to get drunk. Giving the demon her best longing look, she leaned forward. “Thanks. I needed that,” she murmured. “What’s your name?”

“Zed.”

Leaning forward, she traced a finger down her cleavage. “Do you think you could give me a ride home, Zed?” she asked. She bit one finger in a nervous gesture, knowing he was buying it. “My friend went home with some guy and left me here. I can wait.”

His eyes flashed, and she knew she had him.

“Sure.” He glanced at the other bartender. “Give me a second. I got off an hour ago.”

Sure you did
, she thought.

A few seconds later he was back, pulling on a t-shirt as he walked. The gesture was surprisingly human. With the demon hiding inside, the brimstone dancing in his blood would keep his body uncomfortably hot, eventually burning him alive from the inside out. It may be the middle of winter, but he would never feel the cold.

He held up his keys as she rose to meet him. “My truck’s out back.”

She moved closer, letting him drape an arm over her shoulder. “Let me grab my coat.” The duster was where she had left it. She draped it over her arms as she turned on her psychic link with Xavier. The mage accepted, and Brenna turned to the demon, knowing Xavier was watching through her eyes. At this point, the mark’s lust was so inflamed he wouldn’t notice the slight change of color in her irises.

Wrapping her free arm around Zed’s waist, she led him through the mass of patrons to the exit. As they stepped into the wintry air, she noticed the bikers again. They stood beside their Harleys, watching her warily as she passed. She worried the tension might give her away, but Zed was oblivious.

She led him over the cobblestone to where Xavier waited. As they closed in on the shadows, she could feel Zed’s eagerness spike.

The darkness moved over them, hiding them from prying eyes. Xavier’s power sang in the night, a compass pointing her to the van. Leaving Zed to follow behind, she moved to the gray van and pressed her back against its side. Zed moved toward her, all pretense of humanity stripped away. The graceless stride betrayed his hunger as green scales peeled away his skin and his eyes turned to blood red slits.

Brenna waited until he was on her, scales chaffing the sensitive skin of her face, then she dropped her glamour. The demon jerked back as her magic wrapped around his body, but it was too late. In one swift movement, she pulled the blade strapped to her back free and ripped the already tattered t-shirt away from his chest. Shifting her body weight, she slammed him against the vehicle even as his body mass grew, the demon pushing its way to the surface. One hand held Zed steady, the other slipped beneath his jeans to feel the skin of his hip.

“A little to the left,” the demon growled, body shaking, titillated despite itself.

He shifted his weight and slammed her against the brick wall behind her. His body pressed hard against hers, he ran a scaly tongue across her cheek. “You don’t have to get hostile, darlin’. I don’t mind if you like it rough.”