Shadow's Touch

by T. M. Hart

  We scheduled the meeting for two nights later. I wanted enough time to get some things packed, while limiting the window of opportunity for Killian and my mother to lecture, guilt, badger, and potentially kidnap me again.

  And that was how I found myself in a field at dusk. Killian, Watts, and I had been pulsed there by three archangels. One moment we had been in the great courtyard outside the Radiant mansion, and the next we found ourselves in this field.

  A woman approached us as soon as we arrived. She was tall and toned in skintight black leather and spike heeled boots. Her dark hair was pulled off her face in a braid, highlighting her sharp features and piercing jade eyes.

  I was aware we were meeting an outsider. Apparently, she knew these lands and could be trusted. But if I'm being honest . . . she was one scary bitch.

  And I was jealous. I wanted to be the scary bitch in skintight leather, looking like I was about to lay some serious smackdown. But instead I had tried my best to look like a sweet innocent princess—chestnut hair in loose waves flowing down my back; white virginal dress that was demure yet curve hugging; and innocent doe-eyed makeup.

  All stone-cold business, she said, "The location of the hand-off is fifty miles east of here. I have a vehicle which will arrive in," she glanced down at her watch, "exactly twelve point five minutes."

  As if bored, the female angel replied, "Excellent. Thank you, Evelyn."

  It had been decided that we would drive the last portion of the journey. If there was an ambush waiting for us, pulsing to the exact spot would be a death sentence. If we drove, we could see what we were getting into, and pulse out if necessary.

  I looked around, expecting a continued discussion, but no one spoke. Killian and Watts kept twisting their necks and rolling their shoulders while checking their weapons—they were clearly expecting a fight. The blonde female angel, Daphne, was inspecting her nails with disinterest. And the brown-haired male, Cord, was standing at attention, unblinking and unmoving.

  Giddeon, the leader of the archangels, kept leaning back on his heels and arching his neck, trying to check out Evelyn's leather clad butt. I couldn't understand how he had been appointed his position by the Council of Elders. I had briefly seen him around court on official business from time to time but did not know him personally. He was always forgoing the traditional white robe for casual attire.

  And today was no different. Instead of wearing the ceremonial robe, the way the brown-haired angel did, or fighting attire, the way Killian and Watts did, Giddeon was wearing jeans and a t-shirt which read JENIUS. It didn't detract from his incredible good looks in any way, I just had a hard time taking him seriously.

  As if on cue, Giddeon broke the silence. "I feel like we should all drink a special potion that makes us look like Dumbledore."

  There was a palpable shift in the group dynamic. Everyone turned to look at him. He scanned our little crowd and his look of surprise turned to disbelief. "Okay. You're going to tell me that none of you have read Harry Potter?"

  I raised my eyebrows. "You have?"

  "Of course. It's only the greatest story ever told."

  I shrugged. "I thought it was for kids."

  G squinted his eyes at me. "You're joking, right?"

  I just shrugged again.

  "Wow. Ignorant. It's an incredible adventure for all ages. And by the way—you are a kid."

  "No one turns into Dumbledore," Killian groused.

  "You mean Harry," Daphne corrected.

  "No," Killian insisted. "Dumbledore. No one drinks a special portion to look like Dumbledore."

  "Not you. Giddeon. Giddeon means Harry."

  "I mean Dumbledore. You know that scene where they all meet to escort—"

  "It's Harry, Jenius!"

  "You don't even know what I'm referencing!"

  "Of course we do, and you've got it all wrong!"

  "Shut-up, Thor. Go find your hammer."

  "This is ridiculous. Someone pulse to get a copy of the book so we can put an end to this."

  "What does it matter?"

  "Oh, it matters."

  "Forget the book. There are like twenty in the series. We'd have to figure out which book it's in and then find the right page. Someone pulse the author here. She'll settle this."

  "With great power, comes great responsibility. We cannot simply pulse mortals at will to settle an inane—"

  "Oh god, Cord. Shut it."

  "Huh. I guess he can speak."

  "I believe it was, in fact, Harry," said a deep voice with a cultured English accent.

  Everyone turned to the speaker. Without anyone noticing, a Shadow had joined our group.

  "Oh shit!" G exclaimed before drawing his sword of fire and lighting up in a brilliant flare. He pointed the tip of the sword at the Shadow's neck. "How the fuck did no one notice this guy?!"

  G shook his head and spared a quick glance at the rest of us. "You bozos have really done it now. Oh man. When I report this to Adriel, she is not going to be happy. You poor losers are going to be on KP duty for the next thousand years. The whole reason you were all assigned this mission was to guard the princess from any and all threats. And you just let a freakin' Shadow mosey on up to her. Pfff. The ‘best the Radiant Court has to offer,’ my ass."

  With his free hand, he gestured to his sword at the Shadow's neck. "You're welcome, by the way."

  Daphne rolled her eyes. "Enough, Giddeon. Take his head already and let's be done with it."

  "No, wait.” I spoke up. "I believe this may be my escort."

  "Indeed, your highness," the Shadow answered calmly. "Maxim Steel, Master-at-arms for the Dark Court, here to humbly assist you."

  Without moving, he looked at the sword pointed at his neck. "It would be my custom to bow when addressing the new Princess of Shadows, but I do wish to keep my head, your highness. My sincerest apologies."

  "G, put the sword down," I told him. And then I had to fight not to laugh at the exaggerated incredulity on his face.

  "Are you kidding me, woman?! What the hell is this guy doing here?"

  "I arranged to have him meet me here," I answered.

  Killian looked furious. "That was not part of the plan."

  "What the fuck kind of name is Maxim Steel? Sounds like an alias, if you ask me." Watts added.

  "It is a family name with a long-standing history of honor and prestige among my people. Thank you for your interest, Watts."

  G's eyebrows rose even higher (which I wouldn't have thought possible) and his voice went up an octave. "Now he knows our names?"

  With slightly less boredom, Daphne said, "Hmm, things just got a little more interesting."

  Cord stepped forward. His broad frame was undeniable beneath the ceremonial robe. Although he was physically present, his mind seemed to be somewhere else for most of the meeting. With his size and strength, I could understand why he did not feel the need to be on high alert. He was probably a lethal weapon in his own right. And I couldn’t imagine anyone being able to strike him down.

  His deep voice was even and assertive. "I agree with the attractive boy," he said glancing at Killian. "This was not discussed. We shall take the Shadow's head and then continue as originally planned."

  Watts slapped his big palm on Killian's shoulder. "Yeah, I also agree with the attractive boy." He nodded at Cord. "And the emotionally dead angel."

  Killian shot him an annoyed look. Cord, on the other hand, simply nodded in a kind of satisfied agreement.

  "I don't think any of that will be necessary," I told them. "G, please. The sword?"

  "Nah-uh, babydoll. This is the very reason we're all here. To prevent any random attacks."

  I tried a different approach. "I just told you numb-nuts, I arranged to have him meet me here."

  “Dude! I’m going to get so much shit if he kills you. There’s no way.”

  “G. We didn’t notice him approach. He could have killed me already if he wanted to.”

  G finally shrugged. "It�
��s your funeral.” He extinguished the fiery sword, and the brilliant Light radiating from him dimmed.

  Everyone was tense for a moment, watching for any sign of an attack from Maxim, but he simply turned towards me and gave a bow. "Your highness."

  Killian put his hand on my lower back. "Okay. That's it. We tried this. It didn't work out. We're leaving."

  "I will kindly ask you to remove your hand from the Princess of Shadows." Although politely delivered, Maxim's request was clearly a threat of consequence.

  With a high-pitched swish of steel against leather, Killian withdrew his fighting knives in a flash . . . which caused Watts to withdraw his . . . which caused G to draw his fiery sword. And since G was the commander of the archangels, Daphne and Cord followed suit. In the end, Maxim was basically facing a small army.

  To his credit, his calm demeanor was unruffled. Maxim stood his ground, back straight and head high. "Your highness. Whenever you are ready. It will be my honor to escort you to your new home."

  "She's not going anywhere with you," Killian growled. "You'll probably lead her straight to her death."

  "I can assure you that I have no intention of harming our new princess. In fact, I will be defending her with my life."

  "He speaks the truth."

  Everyone turned to look at Evelyn. Until that point, she had been silent. Now her jade eyes glowed. I shivered at the eerie sight. There was something unsettling about her.

  Killian didn't seem to be bothered, though. "Even if that's true," he countered, "you could be leading her into certain death without knowing it. Any one of your people could be planning an attack against her."

  "The Shadow Court has made no announcement of this union. We want the princess safely established within the Dark Manor before her new position is to be publicized. There are a scant few, whom I have selected personally, that are aware of her arrival. She will be safe. There is no threat against her."

  Again, Evelyn's authoritative voice rang out. "He speaks the truth." And again, everyone turned to look at her with those jade eyes aglow.

  Maxim seemed to weary of the pettiness. "And all of this should have been outlined prior to this evening."

  "Yes," I spoke up. "It was." I turned to the group. "And I thought it would be better for everyone involved if Maxim and I met and traveled the rest of the way alone." I gave a pointed look at all the weapons drawn. "I thought tensions might run high if the Radiant and Shadow contingents were to meet."

  Killian didn't take his eyes off Maxim. "Violet, this isn't safe."

  Watts sheathed his knives and placed his palm on Killian's shoulder once more. "Come on, man. It's time to let her go," he said quietly. After no response from Killian, he darted a look at Evelyn and added, "The creepy lady says it's okay."

  He took the knives from Killian and stashed them away. Then standing behind Killian, Watts took hold of his upper arm. He was keeping Killian from coming after me, and he was offering strength and support, knowing how hard this was.

  I squeezed Killian's hand and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "You'll always have my love," I told him. I met his eyes and said, "I will see you soon."

  I gave Watts a tight nod in thanks, and he nodded back.

  Finally, I approached Maxim. "I'm ready. Thank you."

  He gestured beyond the clearing. "I have transportation just over this hill. If you will please stay right beside me, your highness. I did surveil this area, and there are no others present. But it is best to be safe."

  As Maxim and I walked away from the group, I forced myself not to look back. I knew it was what Killian was waiting for. One look from me, and he would pick me up and lock me away somewhere for the next thousand years.

  My time was up.

  But the last thing I heard, just before we passed over the hill, was Giddeon grumbling. "Well that was anticlimactic."

  And I couldn't help but smile.

  Chapter 6

  We drove for some time through the countryside, and I tried to mentally prepare myself for what I was about to face.

  From what I knew about Shadows, they dwelled in black holes. The Dark Manor was allegedly no different. I had heard it described as a subterranean horror house.

  After fighting them for years, I had yet to actually step foot in a residence of theirs. The Radiant Court was located in the Allagash, a wilderness area in Maine. Yet the Shadow Court was located south of London in the English countryside.

  The Shadows we encountered were those who aggressed upon our lands. They would hunt innocent Radiants and feed from our Light.

  The defense unit in which I fought was a ghost operation. Unofficial and off the books. It didn’t even have a name. We simply referred to it as The Unit.

  Our goal was simple. We would keep our people safe and protected, eradicating any guerrilla attacks before they occurred. We were so busy defending our domain that we never bothered, or much cared, to travel to their territory.

  But what I truly dreaded was not the appalling abode in which I would soon reside. What I truly dreaded were the Shadows themselves. Depictions of them from our archives were seared into my mind. As a people, they were tall and thin—almost emaciated. They had ashen skin, lifeless gray eyes, and dark hair.

  It was said that the Shadows would capture witches and torture them. They did this to force glamour spells from the wicca. That was why Barrister Corbett, Maxim, and those we fought appeared as attractive men. I squirmed in my seat, hoping Maxim's glamour would not fade before we arrived at our destination.

  At the moment, he appeared to be in his early thirties with quite an attractive face. His features were sharp and handsomely defined. He also filled out the suit he wore, seeming to carry a good deal of muscle beneath the fabric. His dark hair and features were not unusual, but the tan tone of his skin was certainly not typical of a Shadow.

  The glamour would probably hold, I reassured myself. Even after their deaths, the Shadows we hunted did not lose theirs.

  Oh, god. Will I have to watch any of them eat?

  I also remembered from our court reference sources that the Shadows preferred raw meat and had no problem consuming another of their kind when the opportunity arose. I turned to look out my window—revolted.

  Worst of all was the Shadow Prince, himself. In the few short days since we learned of his rise to power, there had been all kinds of murmurings about the lore surrounding him. He was said to have not just ashen skin but rotting flesh and a putrid stench. In some accounts, he had horns. In others, fangs. Sometimes both.

  And while he too enjoyed the flesh of his people, his favorite was babies. He liked to dine on the tender meat, and he experienced a perverse joy at desecrating such innocence.

  I was admittedly horrified at the idea of residing in the Dark Manor—even if there was a personal wing provided for me. The idea of being in the same residence as such evil was sickening. And I could only imagine the hole in the ground I would be provided as living quarters.

  But I meant what I had said to Killian. This was an opportunity. And I was going to take it. I wanted a chance to do something good. Something worthwhile. It was all I had in this life.

  Although I was mentally steeling myself for what was to come, I had not let down my guard. I was aware of Maxim's every move, every breath, every blink. I had a dagger of Light strapped to my thigh, under my dress. One wrong move from Maxim, and I would not hesitate to end him.

  I was sitting in the back seat directly behind him. It was the most advantageous spot in the SUV. My hand was clutched around the hilt of the dagger. And that was why the instant the attack happened, I was more than ready.

  Our vehicle jerked violently.

  I didn’t hesitate. I unsheathed the dagger and flung open my door. Diving out of the car and hitting dirt, I began to roll. I had been tracking the tree line along our path. I sprang out from the tumble and began sprinting for the cover of the trees.

  I knew chance was on my side. I doubted they would have expected
me to make such a fast break. I would disappear into the tree line, climb one of the oak trees, and take an assessment of the situation. Again, they would probably think I was running, and not expect a counter attack as they entered the woods.

  I was going to send their dark souls back to hell.

  I had hoped I would at least reach the Dark Manor before they made an attempt on me. If I had made it that far, I might have had a chance of taking down the Shadow Prince. I had thought they would perhaps keep me for ransom at first. But these assholes were going straight for the kill.

  I would take out whoever or whatever they had sent. It couldn't be many. They had no idea what I was capable of.

  I heard Maxim shout something, probably a directive. I tried to make out his words. It would be useful to know how they were proceeding.

  "Begging your pardon, your highness! If you've changed your mind, I will be happy to escort you back to the Radiant Domain!"

  I scoffed. What kind of idiot did he think he was playing with?

  I chanced a glance over my shoulder to survey the situation. Maxim was standing calmly beside the SUV, his hands clasped in front of him. I didn't see any other Shadows in view. I let my senses roam. I was unable to detect anyone else surrounding us. Perhaps Maxim was making the attack on his own?

  Chancing a second glance over my shoulder, I saw that the paved road had ended, and our vehicle had just entered rough, rocky terrain.

  The kind of terrain that would make a vehicle jerk and bounce . . .

  I glanced over my shoulder again, watching Maxim. I slowed. When I saw he was not moving from his post by the driver's door, I eventually came to a stop.

  Stall, I thought. I needed a minute to assess exactly what was going on. "I, ah . . . have to pee!" I called over my shoulder.

  I walked the rest of the way to the tree line and slipped behind one of the large oaks. I chanced a peek around the trunk. Maxim continued to wait patiently by the SUV.

  After watching him for a couple minutes, my chest began to feel tight and my cheeks hot. I realized it was possible there might not be an attack. It was possible I had overreacted. I was so on edge, so ready for a fight, that I might have mistaken a bump in the road for an attempt on my life.