When Shadows Call

by amanda bonilla

  I expected to be welcomed by glaring daylight, but the room was dark. I couldn’t discern the time of day, but even though no lights illuminated my surroundings and the curtains didn’t betray a shred of daylight, I could see as well as if it were the gray hours of early morning. With less effort than I expected, I pushed myself up to a sitting position. The bed I lay in was not my own; the surroundings, unfamiliar. From the looks of it, I’d been moved to an inn or hotel room. What had happened while darkness held me? Where was Henry? Who had taken me and to where? Had it been Azriel, or had my mind deceived me? My pulse thrummed in my ears—though from excitement or fear, I couldn’t tell—as I once again felt the delicious pull . . . the soft, silky warmth tugging at my skin.

  Still fascinated with my heightened eyesight, I brought my hand to my face. The skin on my fingertips seemed to quaver, shrouded by darkness and becoming solid once more. I am no longer myself, I thought, and my breath sped in my chest with the realization. Like a contented feline, I stretched my limbs, aware of the fact that I no longer felt the pain of my many injuries. In fact, I’d never felt so invigorated or strong. My God, how long had I been floating in dark nothingness, and what had changed me?

  Lamplight flickered to life in the corner of the room and I sensed Azriel nearby, his life force pulsing like a beacon through the fog. A sweet and spicy scent, like a field of pansies beneath the summer sun, permeated my senses, and I breathed deeply, holding the aroma in my lungs.

  “What’s happened to me?” I whispered, my heart hammering in my chest.

  Dark mist stirred at my bedside and Azriel materialized from shadow. I stared in wide-eyed wonder as he sat beside me and brought my fingers to his mouth, bestowing a gentle kiss on my knuckles. “Fate has claimed you, Darian. No mortal will dare harm you again.”

  Chapter 3

  I jerked my hand from Azriel’s grasp and scooted as far away from him as possible. As if his lips had burned my skin, I rubbed the spot on my knuckles where his mouth had all but branded me. How had I not noticed the heat pouring from his body the first time we’d met? “What have you done to me?” I blurted. Nothing could calm the tremor in my voice, though I prayed I’d sound strong. “Where am I? Where’s Henry? What has happened to him?”

  Azriel laughed, and the sound of it brought gooseflesh to the surface of my skin. I clenched my hands into fists to stop them from shaking. I wouldn’t be able to stand the shame if he noticed how the sound of his gentle laughter affected me. “Worried for your husband?” Azriel asked, incredulous. “Why would you waste a passing thought of concern for him? Did he not beat you nearly to death?”

  He had. So many times he’d abused me. But he was my husband. I’d made sacred vows to him, and despite his cruelty, Henry was a soul-sick man who deserved my compassion rather than my contempt. “Is he dead?” I asked, my voice just above a whisper.

  “As a doornail.”

  His brash answer elicited a startled gasp. He chuckled again as if to say, Your shock is so adorable, my dear. How could he treat a man’s death in such a cavalier manner––a death he had delivered with his own hands? “How?” The question was idiotic. I knew how. But the words escaped my mouth before I could think better of it.

  “How else?” Azriel asked, unfazed. “Your dear spouse lived by the sword, therefore he died by it. Can you think of a more fitting end for the bastard?”

  I inched further from Azriel until I found myself perched on the edge of the bed. My fingers trailed from my throat to the delicate lace collar and bodice of my dress that Henry had ripped in his rage. My husband was dead. Gone. Forever.

  And I was finally free.

  Azriel’s dark gaze locked with mine and a wave of fear washed over me. Perhaps freedom wasn’t the best word to describe my current situation. His eyes roamed over me, traveling with wanton disregard for propriety, making me feel exposed—undressed—naked beneath his heated gaze.

  “Extraordinary,” he murmured.

  “I can hear you,” I said, my fear swept away by bemusement. “Just now, I heard you.”

  Azriel shrugged. “What of it?”

  What of it, indeed? His lips had barely moved, the words spoken more to himself. And yet I’d heard him crystal clear as if he’d spoken the word against my ear. “What have you done to me?” I asked again, panic racing through my veins like liquid fire. “What are you?”

  “Perhaps you should be asking that of yourself,” Azriel said, leaning in toward me. He reached out with one hand and it melted into shadow, the tendrils sweeping up his strong arm and shoulder to transform the limb into a graceful, twining ribbon of darkness. His shadows inched toward me, as if seeking me out and curled around my neck, caressing my skin with a gentleness I’d never experienced until this moment. And rather than scream in fear, or launch myself from the bed, my body reacted, drawn to him like metal to a magnet. My eyes drifted shut of their own accord and I couldn’t help the sigh that escaped my lips. Bliss.

  “Yes,” Azriel whispered, the ‘s’ slipping out in a sensual hiss. “You were meant for this, Darian. You have always belonged to the shadows.”

  The fear and anxiety siphoned from my body and I lost myself to sensation. Every nerve ending in my body sparked to life, and I wanted more. More of those delicious shadows caressing my skin. More warm, comforting dark. More of him. “Please . . .” I didn’t dare open my eyes. I couldn’t trust myself to meet his gaze with anything but desire in mine. “Please,” I said again. But what was I pleading for?

  Another lick of shadowy heat reached out to caress me, and I gasped, in pleasure this time. My behavior was shameful at best. What would people think— No. Those were Henry’s words. Henry’s concerns. And he was dead.

  “I will be lonely no more.” Azriel’s rich voice was soft in my ears as his shadows stroked my body. “And you are safe. Strong. You have become more than you ever were or could ever imagine. Isn’t that all you need to know?”

  “No.” I’d meant the word to sound forceful but I was too used to weakness for it to sound anything but simpering. “Tell me, Azriel, what are you?”

  “I am shadow,” he said.

  I swayed as a second set of silky tendrils joined the first, swirling at the base of my neck and climbing up through the tangle of my hair against my scalp. A moan worked its way up through my throat, but I swallowed it down. I still held on to modesty and convention, no matter what Azriel’s touch evoked. “Shadow?” I murmured as I gripped the edges of the mattress for support. My bones had all but melted; it wouldn’t take much for me to topple over the edge of the bed, and wouldn’t that be charming?

  “Shaede,” Azriel whispered.

  I felt the weight of his body leave the mattress completely and I opened my eyes, afraid he’d left me. The silky vines of Azriel’s shadow retreated, slinking away from my body in a graceful, winding dance. He’d left his corporeal body completely behind, becoming nothing more than dark mist. The shadows retreated to the far side of the room and swirled in a violent cloud before coming together to create his solid form. But even so, as he stood before me, I couldn’t help but notice how his body quavered. Like a mirage. Or an illusion.

  “Are you real?” I breathed.

  “As real as you,” he said.

  “What is Shaede?”

  “The ancient Celts called us Scáth Siúlóir. Shadow Walkers. But our Fae forefather named us Shaede.”

  “How can I possibly believe this?” I asked more to myself than Azriel. “You speak of magic and fairy tales. There is no magic in this world.”

  “Then you deny what your eyes see?” Azriel asked. “What your body would tell you? There is magic in this world, Darian. And you are a part of it.”

  “You changed me.” I’d intended my words as a question, but instead I made a cold, hard statement. I was no longer human. I felt that fact down to every cell that
constructed my body, knew the truth of it in the depths of my soul.

  “I needed a companion,” Azriel said, neither confirming nor denying my assertion.

  “Are there others?”

  His eyes narrowed shrewdly, but then his expression softened. “We are the last.”

  “We?”

  “Yes, Darian. You and I.”

  I leaned back against the headboard and massaged my temples. I felt as though my skull would split in two. The room spun out of focus and beads of sweat dampened my skin. So warm. Heat stifled the air, too thick to breathe. I struggled to take oxygen into my lungs but my efforts brought only scorching agony. I was going to suffocate in this unfamiliar place with no one but a stranger to witness my death.

  “Darian,” Azriel’s voice echoed in my ears as if he spoke from a long tunnel. “Don’t fight the change. You’re only making it harder on yourself. Let the shadows take you.”

  “No!” I gasped, fear clenching my heart like a vise. My blood practically boiled in my veins, and I clawed at my dress, ripping the fabric. “Make it stop!” I writhed on the bed and wound my fists in the sheets to keep myself from tearing at my skin. “Please, Azriel.” Tears streaked a path down my cheeks and blurred my vision.

  A balmy breeze stirred the long drapes as Azriel materialized at the balcony. He flung the doors wide open, and I welcomed the stirrings of a much cooler night than I was used to. Again, he left his physical body behind and when his heat met the cold air, it created a humid mist that clung to the atmosphere like building clouds. “Don’t be afraid,” Azriel said as his shadows came to rest at my side. “I told you, Darian, you no longer have any reason to fear.”

  The feathery wisps of his incorporeal form wound around my body, and I calmed. All I’d known for the past five years was fear and uncertainty. How could I possibly let go?

  “It’s as natural as breathing.” Even innocent words sounded sinful and seductive when Azriel spoke, and I suppressed a pleasant shudder. “Let go.” Shadows trickled up my arms, around my neck, and down my spine. His shadows. “Join me.”

  “Yes.” The word had barely registered as a thought, I’d spoken it so softly, but I knew he heard me. I had no idea what to do or how to do it, but my body obeyed his command. I held my breath for the barest moment, kept as much of the pulsing heat in my body as I could stand. And then, as I exhaled a slow and languid breath, that heat melted right out of me.

  Shadows permeated my skin, like the finest, softest silks joining with my flesh. The heat that had once been unbearable became once again the comforting warmth I’d known when I first awoke. I had no expectations, but even so, it took a moment for my eyes to adjust as I saw the world through a darkened haze. A veil of shadow. My bones melted, and my entire being became a gossamer thing.

  The sensation sent an exhilarating thrill zinging through my soul.

  “I am shadow,” I said as I tested my incorporeal form, weaving in and out and around the posts of the headboard.

  “You are Shaede.” Azriel regained his corporeal form and stretched out on the bed. He looked magnificent. Sinewy muscles strained against the fine fabric of his shirt, and his dark hair shone in the lamplight. His black eyes followed the wisps and curling tendrils of my shadows with a sensual appreciation. He licked his full lips, and I couldn’t help but stare.

  A wicked thought sparked in my mind, and I wondered if I was brave enough to follow through. But I’d been freed from convention. Released from the crippling vise of socialites, gossips, and an abusive, controlling husband. My prayers had finally been answered: I’d died and was born again. With a giddiness that almost made me laugh aloud, I let go of the thoughts that tethered me to respectability. Changing course, I unwound myself from the ornate bed posts and slithered across the sheets toward Azriel. A corner of his mouth lifted in . . . not quite a smile . . . more a satisfied smirk. The expression only strengthened my resolve, and I continued my course, winding up his arm like a thick, black ribbon.

  “This is a dangerous game you play,” Azriel murmured as he tilted his head to one side. His invitation didn’t go unnoticed and I slid up past his jugular and around to the back of his neck. The fabric of his shirt rustled as I caressed the exposed flesh of his back, my shadow form tracing each defined muscle. “Have a care my dear,” he said. “Once you set foot on this path, there will be no turning back.”

  I’d never touched a man in such a way. Somehow, the absence of my physical body protected me, allowed me to be brave and brazen. Henry never showed me an ounce of physical affection. Only in public had he seemed the doting husband, gracing me with a smile or offering his arm to me. At our wedding, he’d placed a dutiful kiss to my lips, and it had been the one and only time he would do so. For years I’d been nothing but an ornament. The excitement of this moment had no equal. I finally—after five long years of loveless marriage—felt like a woman.

  “Perhaps I don’t want to turn back,” I said. My voice sounded the same in my shadow form, though the sensation of speaking was entirely different. I could not feel the reverberation of my voice in my throat or ears. And neither could I feel my lips and tongue form the words. Rather, they floated from me as if merely a thought, with no physical effort whatsoever.

  “I knew you had fire.” Azriel’s words came through his throat in a wanton growl that made me ache in a strange but not unpleasant way. “If you truly mean what you say, Darian, then all of Seattle will hear your cries of pleasure tonight.”

  With the force of a vengeful wind, I blew away from Azriel’s body, over the foot of the bed and across the room. I slammed back into my corporeal form, and the sensation of flames licking my skin made me cry out in pain. It didn’t last long, though. My ire quenched the uncomfortable heat as good as a bucket of water. “Seattle?” The word escaped my lips in an incredulous burst. “You took me from San Francisco? My God, how long have I been unconscious?”

  Azriel gave a heavy sigh and rolled his eyes. He pushed himself off the bed and raked his hands through his hair. “Did you think we could simply stay there? Perhaps live in your home?” His icy tone mocked my shock. “Darian, I killed your husband. Beat him to a bloody pulp.”

  My God, he had. What was I thinking? I didn’t know anything about Azriel. Truly, he could have been more of a monster than Henry. He’d proven himself a murderer, not to mention a sly seducer of women. I had no doubts Azriel was a dangerous man. Handsome to a fault, but dangerous. He’d kidnapped me and taken me hundreds of miles from my home . . . “My disappearance won’t go unnoticed.” The words tumbled out of my mouth in a frantic rush. “My parents will look for me.” I wondered as I spoke, could I convince Azriel I’d be missed? Once my father had married me off to Henry, both he and my mother had washed their hands of me. They never called at the house or inquired as to my health or happiness. They’d been happy to pawn me off on the good doctor. And once I was gone from their house . . . I was gone for good.

  “No one will be looking for you,” Azriel said. “I made sure of it.”

  I swallowed hard as a lump of fear rose in my throat. “What do you mean?” I asked, my voice even and low.

  “Do you think I would have been stupid enough not to cover my tracks, my dear?” Azriel tilted his head to the side and apprised me with an amused smile. “The good doctor met his end at the hands of a violent thief. And his wife,” Azriel launched himself from the bed in one jaunty bounce, “so lovely, such a prize . . .”

  He approached me with all of the stealth of a hunting cat. I took a step back, and another. The wall stayed my progress and my breath raced in my chest. I had nowhere to run. Trapped. Azriel reached out and caught a lock of my hair in his hand. He teased the strands between his thumb and finger before smoothing them behind my ear. “Who could resist the beautiful Darian Charles? The police will find signs of your struggle. They’ll assume the thieves took you to use for t
heir own wicked devices. They’ll search for you, I have no doubt. But in the end, you will be presumed dead. Raped, abused, and drowned in the bay perhaps.”

  “Why?” I choked out. “Why would you do this?”

  “You’re special, Darian.” Azriel placed his palms against the wall on either side of me. He stood so close, I felt the heat of his body pulse against mine, and a spark ignited every nerve ending of my traitorous body. “I wanted you the moment I laid eyes on you.” He placed his cheek against mine so his lips hovered at my ear. His lips brushed my earlobe, and I shivered. “And I take what I want.”

  Chapter 4

  I take what I want.

  No one had ever wanted me. Not my parents, not the suitors my father tried to pawn me off on. Not even my own husband. Something blossomed in my chest to replace the crippling fear. Azriel’s tone dared me to challenge him on the matter. And for the life of me, I could detect nothing but honesty in his words. He. Wanted. Me.

  “I’m not special,” I said. He hadn’t pulled away from me, and his warm breath tickled my ear. He laughed softly, and I shuddered.

  “You have no idea how special you are,” Azriel murmured. He traced his nose up the ridge of my ear, and I all but melted against the wall. I couldn’t slow the wild beat of my heart, and my breath came as if I’d run all the way from San Francisco to Seattle. My hands, which had been balled in fists at my side, slowly crept between us and I pressed my palms into the unyielding muscles of his chest. Marble. Azriel was a god cut from stone. “I will never hurt you,” he said. “I will never treat you with cruelty.” He dipped his head and placed a gentle kiss where my pulse pounded in my throat. “But, Darian, do not doubt that you are mine.” His face met mine and his eyes burned with the intensity of his vow. “Forever.”