Angel in the Shadows

by Amy Deason

  Abruptly, his fingers connected with a small square of plastic in the deepest corner of her bra. Carefully withdrawing the memory card from its hiding place, he replaced her clothing and stepped back, considering.

  He didn’t want to kill her. He’d killed without question for so long, it had become second nature to him. None of those people proved to be too difficult for him. They were just jobs that had to be done. But none of them had been blameless either. That was the difference between them and Madison. Whoever Madison was, she wasn’t a part of this. He felt that more clearly than anything else in a very long time. It was possible that he was wrong but he didn’t think so. He wanted to save her. But that wasn’t his call.

  He was continually thankful that he was not in that position, to issue those commands, preferring to simply follow orders and let the questions and moral implications rest on the shoulders of someone else. Only now, those questions and implications were coming home to roost and he wasn’t sure how to handle them. The objective was to save innocent lives, not end them. So where did that leave Madison? He didn’t know. Right now, his resolve was shaken, his decision uncertain. In the end, if there was no other way, he would do what he had to. But he was positive of one thing. If this woman died, especially by his hands, it would be considered a failure. His failure.

  He suddenly wished for the first time, that he was someone else. Anybody but who he was. Someone with a normal life, a normal job. Someone with a wife and kids, a nice house, and maybe a dog. But that was impossible of course. He had turned away from the chance of a normal life long ago. There could be no going back to who he once had been. There was only this, here and now. An endless cycle of lies and secrets, violence and death. Still, his eyes lingered, wishing.

  With a sigh that shook him to his core, he shook himself harshly. Standing tall and resolute, he turned away from the bed, leaving Madison safe and alive. For now.

  She was blind! Oh God, she couldn’t see! Panic bloomed in her chest making her heart seize convulsively. Where the hell was she? Madison turned her head left, then right but everything was dark and her neck hurt. What was going on? Taking a deep breath, she fought against the fear enveloping her. She tried desperately to remember what happened to her but her brain was fuzzy. Her mouth watered and she swallowed thickly, her mouth and throat feeling as though they were filled with cotton.

  “There’s a glass of water on the table beside you,” a soft, male voice replied from across the room.

  Her breath caught in her throat. That voice, she knew that voice . . . God, what happened? Why was she here? What the hell was going on? And who was the man in the room with her? What was she going to do? Maybe if she didn’t move, he would think she was still asleep, buying her a few more minutes to figure things out.

  “I know you’re awake so you might as well drink something.”

  So much for that rational plan. Sitting up slowly, she disregarded the water and turned in the direction of his voice. The room wasn’t as dark as she first thought. Pale light crept in through an open doorway, making it possible for her to see her captor. Seth sat in an overstuffed chair; his attention was not focused on her but on a cell phone. The light from the screen illuminated his face, making him appear haunted. Madison squeezed her eyes shut, trying desperately to get a hold of herself.

  “You know, this Robert is quite a character.” His tone was light, conversational. “And just how many pictures do you need of a cat?”

  Madison’s eyes flew open, staring at him incredulously. The bastard had her cell phone!

  “What the hell . . .?” she managed to croak, her voice failing as her throat clicked painfully.

  Never taking his eyes from the screen, he replied flippantly, “What? Can’t hear you. You might want to drink some of that water. It’ll help your scratchy throat.”

  Fury ripped through her at his nonchalance, effectively dashing her confusion. She reached out, grabbing the glass of water and flung it at his head. The glass never even came close, hitting the wall on his left and shattering on impact. Though he never flinched in the least, Seth raised his eyes to hers, chilling her anger instantly.

  “If you didn’t want the water, all you had to do was say so,” he said calmly, standing up with graceful ease.

  She shrank back as he rose from the chair and crossed the room, cell phone still clutched loosely in his hand. But instead of approaching her, he walked out of the room without another word.

  She surveyed the room, looking for a way out. There didn’t seem to be much hope. The sterile room was windowless, the only furniture, the chair, an end table, and the narrow bed she was laying on. From the other room, she heard running water and swung her eyes back to the open doorway. Seth had come back, carrying another glass of water. He held it out to her, his eyes piercing hers.

  “Here, drink this. And don’t even think about throwing it. I won’t offer you anymore.”

  She paused, considering his words and took the glass from him. Her fingers brushed lightly against his, sending a shiver through her. Bringing the glass to her lips with a shaky hand, she was all too aware of his eyes following its progress.

  The cold water slid down her throat, soothing the feeling of broken glass. She closed her eyes in relief, releasing a sigh of pure gratitude. She couldn’t remember having tasted anything so wonderful. Opening her eyes, she looked up to see Seth watching her, a guarded look on his face. Studying him, she saw he was tall, just over six feet. The charcoal suit was gone, replaced by a black sweater and pants that didn’t quite hide a lithe, muscular frame. He possessed the kind of presence and good looks that would make any normal woman look twice. And she did. It shocked her how she could possibly be regarding him in female appreciation. She was held captive against her will and instead of figuring a way out, she was focusing on his masculinity like some teenage girl. What was wrong with her?

  “Where am I?” she asked, steering away from the insane thoughts going through her mind.

  “Somewhere safe,” he said, taking the glass from her, careful not to touch her fingers.

  “That’s comforting,” she muttered.

  “And, of course, your comfort is my primary concern,” Seth replied caustically.

  Madison scowled at him, wishing she had the glass back. This time she wouldn’t miss. “What were you doing with my cell phone?” she asked, her voice husky with renewed anger.

  “Gratitude is not your strong point, is it?” Seth questioned with exaggerated politeness.

  Feeling her temper flare, she glared up at him, trying to burn a hole right through him. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she started, her sharp tongue reacting before her brain could stop it. “Thank you for dragging me into a dark closet, kidnapping me . . .” Suddenly she had an unbidden memory of his lips on hers.

  “You kissed me!” she exclaimed sharply.

  A slight frown creased his fine features. “Yes, I’m afraid I had to. It was the only way to distract you from the syringe.”

  “Yeah, right,” Madison snorted sarcastically. “Wait, what syringe? What did you do to me?”

  “Believe what you want. You didn’t seem to want to come along peacefully so I had to help you along. Wait, Ms. Sinclair, did you just snort?” he questioned, a tight smile on his full lips.

  Not bothering with an answer, she crossed her arms over her chest and stared up at him as defiantly as she could. “You didn’t answer me. What are you doing with my phone?”

  Seth gave her a blank stare and tossed her the cell phone. “Here, I’m done with it. But I’m afraid you won’t be able to make any calls.”

  “You just watch me.” Madison opened it, not quite believing that he would give the phone back to her that easily. Then she realized why he had parted with it so quickly. “What did you do to it? It won’t work,” she demanded. Her anger was threatening to bubb
le over.

  “I told you, you wouldn’t be able to call anyone. I took the liberty of removing the battery.”

  Furious, Madison stood up from the bed abruptly, all fear aside. She was going to kill him, or at least try to. Before she could take even one step in his direction shooting pain raced up her leg and she stumbled, dropping to her knees.

  “Would you like some help?” he asked politely, standing still and watching her calmly.

  Not even bothering to look at him, she picked herself up off the floor. Gingerly, she stood on her ankle, testing it. “Go to hell.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Sit down and let me look at your ankle.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “I’m not asking,” he replied shortly.

  She considered her options. There weren’t many and the ones she did have didn’t look good. So rather than fight him and risk getting knocked out again, she reluctantly took a seat on the side of the bed.

  “That’s better.” Seth knelt down in front of her, grasping her bare leg and drawing it closer to him. His fingers glided down her leg leisurely, teasingly.

  “It’s no wonder you twisted your ankle, running in shoes like these,” Seth declared, his voice mirroring the softness of his touch. He gingerly removed the black high heels from her feet, clearly aware of the pain the slightest movements caused her. The heat from his bare palm felt wonderful against her aching skin.

  She sat, fascinated by the movements of his fingers as they massaged her swollen ankle. How could someone be so cold and harsh one minute and so warm and tender the next?

  With some remorse, she noticed, the small, even teeth marks in his hand where she had bit him. She had managed to draw blood through the gloves he had been wearing. Served him right! Or at least that’s what she tried to tell herself but the tenderness he was showing her curbed the emotion and before she knew what she was doing, she opened her mouth to speak.

  “I’m sorry about biting you. But you shouldn’t have yanked me into that dark room and besides . . .”

  Seth lifted his head, meeting her eyes, effectively stopping her rambling mid-sentence.

  “Do you always apologize for defending yourself, Ms. Sinclair?”

  Unsure what to say, Madison simply glared at him. It sounded as though he were laughing at her but there was no trace of amusement in his cool eyes. Only a sheer blankness.

  She felt a shuddering relief when he returned his attention back to her ankle. God, she had to get out of here. He was so close to her right now all she would have to do was kick him with her other leg and maybe she could get away. Turning her head slightly, she looked at the door, judging the distance.

  “Don’t even think about it. Even if you did somehow manage to kick me, I would catch you before you even got half way to the front door. It’s locked anyway. That would only slow you down.”

  Startled, Madison jerked her eyes away from the door and back to him, expecting him to be looking at her again but his eyes were still firmly resting on her foot.

  Damn him! He was inside her head again. How could he possibly know what she was thinking? Her temper threatened to elevate once again but then he dabbed at her knee with his fingertips. She bared her teeth and sucked in her breath with a sharp hiss.

  Seth looked up at her curiously. “Sorry,” he replied automatically, no feeling behind the word. “That needs cleaned. The bathroom is right through there,” he said, motioning to the closed door on her right. He stood up smoothly and grabbed her hand, easily pulling her to her feet. In her bare feet, she looked up at him, intensely aware of him looming over her. He was much taller now that she was minus the heels.

  “You mean you’re going to let me out of your sight? Aren’t you afraid that I might escape?” Sarcasm was going to be her downfall one of these days, she just knew it. Right now, she could care less.

  He regarded her with a steady, unwavering stare. “No.”

  She jerked her hand away quickly as if he had burned her and sent him a scathing look. There was such finality in that one word.

  He was right, her knee did need cleaned up but she was going to be damned if she was going to let him think she was following orders from him. Lifting her chin in as much defiance as she could muster, she stared directly into his eyes. “I’m fine,” she said tersely, turning to move into the next room.

  “Suit yourself,” he replied with a slight shrug of his shoulders. He followed as she hobbled into the living room. Her camera bag sat on an oak table in the middle of the room. She made her way ungracefully in that direction.

  “You know, sugarless gum is bad for your teeth,” he said casually.

  Madison stopped her ungainly trek to the table and whirled around to face him, the pain in her ankle temporarily forgotten.

  Indignation rose up in her, strong and fierce. “You went through my bag?” Her voice was level but heated with anger. Instinctively, she reached up to feel for the memory card, knowing it was gone before she even felt the reality of its absence.

  “If you’re looking for the memory card, you won’t find it there. Really, Ms. Sinclair, what a place to put something. I had a devil of a time finding it.” His grin was light and playful. And infuriating as hell.

  There was only one way he could have found that. The crazy bastard had taken advantage of her while she was knocked out and searched her! Anger and embarrassment lit her face on fire.

  “What gives you the right? Who in the hell do you think you are?” she asked, advancing on him.

  Chapter 8

  Standing still as a statue, Seth watched her approach him, temporarily mesmerized by both the courage and stupidity of her actions. She really had absolutely no idea who she was dealing with. Here she was, alone with a virtual stranger, that not only saved her life but also drugged and kidnapped her and still she came toward him, brown eyes hot with anger and a hostility he had not expected. He felt a begrudging admiration for her.

  Madison reached out to slap his face but he easily caught her wrist. She tried again but failed just as miserably with the other hand. He held her wrists firmly within the circle of his palms, rigidly holding her in place. She struggled to free herself but he was unrelenting and harsh. There was no way she could hurt him but there was no sense in letting her try either.

  “Damn you. Let me go!” she yelled up at him.

  Seth gazed down at her, letting his admiration fade away, once more feeling nothing as he held her captive. Her brown eyes stared up into his, stormy and troubled, unaware of his ability to read her like a book. He could see both the anger and fear clearly but he also sensed her attraction to him simmering just below the surface. Not surprised in the least by her response to him, he simply let the moment linger, watching the play of emotions on her face. His eyes fell to her lips. Flattened in anger, they still managed to draw his attention. Should he try to kiss her again, he knew that she would try to fight him but only half-heartedly. She was pretty enough to be a distraction when he clearly couldn’t afford one. And while the idea had merit, he quickly pushed it away before he could act on it.

  “Behave yourself, Ms. Sinclair,” Seth replied gruffly.

  He knew she wasn’t stupid enough to think that she could get away from him easily. There was no way she could outrun him to the door but she was a terrified woman and therefore marginally unpredictable. Even as he watched, her gaze softened in the pretense of interest. He allowed her this gesture, knowing full well where it was headed. Gazing up into his artic-blue eyes, she stepped even closer so that her body pressed comfortably against his.

  “Listen, maybe we got off on the wrong foot. I mean, you did save my life and I didn’t even thank you,” she said, her voice dropping into a husky whisper.

  Seth continued to stare at her, his body utterly still. “You’re welcome,” he replied c
oolly. Her body felt soft against his. He knew though a part of her did want him, she was just looking for a way to distract him so she could possibly escape. Unfortunately for her, he was not easily distracted. Usually. But maybe he would see just how long she was willing to play this little game of hers before she lost her nerve.

  “Well, I can think of a way for you to thank me properly. But it would involve you losing this dress,” he murmured softly, releasing her wrists, letting his hand brush her bare shoulder and skim down her arm. Her skin was smooth against his fingertips and abruptly, he gripped her waist and yanked her to him so she was even more firmly meshed against him. He could feel every contour of her body, the gentle curve of her breasts, and the angle of her hips. Oh yeah, he could play this game and he could play it well but she may not like the ending.

  Moving his other hand up, he felt the pulse pounding as he caressed the nape of her neck, his thumb dancing across the hollow of her throat. He dipped his head and brought his mouth to hers, enjoying the sweet taste of her lips, a momentary indulgence. He was going against everything he had known, everything he had been trained. He knew he was making a mistake by kissing her again but what the hell, everyone was entitled to mistakes, right?

  She stiffened in his arms and although he had made a second mistake in less than twenty-four hours, he was not about to pull away. She just tasted too good and it had been a long time since he had enjoyed such simple pleasures. Suddenly, though, he remembered that he wasn’t like everyone else. Of course he wasn’t, how could have he forgotten? Changing the intensity of the kiss, it became rough and demanding, insisting on something he knew she would never go through with. It wasn’t in her. Which was just fine with him. He didn’t need this distraction right now. Or ever.