Dark and Dangerous: Six-in-One Hot Paranormal Romances

by Jennifer Ashley

  Adam sighed. “I doubt it. You are as set against wraiths as I am. You tried to save my life in the alley. You were nice to Patty even though you were mad at me. And here we are in my personal hell, and you hate it as much as I do. I think you’re safe. Further, I think we have a lot in common.”

  “I don’t know what you think I can possibly do to help you.”

  “Let’s find Shadowman,” Adam pressed. “He’s got answers for both of us.”

  Jacob shrieked; Adam filled with hope. The key was right here, at last.

  He reached out to her in the dark. Found the slope of her neck, the curve of her jaw, just where he had left it. The shadows bled away from his vision. Tears streaked down Talia’s flushed cheeks. He needed to get her back in bed, and soon.

  “Listen to him, Talia. Listen to Jacob.”

  His brother whined in rocking rhythm, a small, scared sound.

  “We can stop the wraiths together. My brother first. Come out of your shadows. Face him.”

  “I don’t want this. Any of it.”

  “Neither do I. When it’s all over, we’ll go on a nice, long vacation. Anywhere in the world.”

  Her black eyes filled with tears. A moment passed.

  “I’d like to live to see the pyramids,” she said, voice clogged with helpless fatigue.

  “Egypt it is.”

  “Maybe the Great Wall.” A fat drop slid down her cheek.

  Adam laughed, wiping it away. “And China.”

  “The Eiffel Tower?” An edge of her mouth tipped up, streaking more tears down her cheeks.

  “Paris. At New Year’s, when the whole city is lit,” he promised. “Come out, Talia.”

  The darkness dissipated. Jacob’s keens took on volume. Talia’s gaze was trained on the monitor, staring as Jacob bared inhuman jaws better suited to a shark or a piranha or a multifanged snake.

  The guard gripped the counter for dear life, sweat running off the side of his face.

  Talia trembled, dark eyes huge in a ghost face. “Where do we start?”

  CHAPTER 6

  Talia went with the west-wing apartment, haunted with a view. She had managed two months on the run from wraiths. She could handle this.

  She shut herself into her new place, anticipation of some kind of woo-woo event crawling over her skin like creepy spiders. Waiting, breath-bated and twitching at every noise (damn vent rattled every time the a/c came on) was agony until she succumbed to exhaustion.

  The bedroom light overhead glared when she woke in the morning. Perspiration pricked at her forehead and dampened her neck under hot, heavy hair in need of a ponytail elastic. She disentangled herself from her twisted sheets and blindly padded out of the bedroom.

  Mid-bleary-step, a Ha! exploded into her consciousness. Ghosts, indeed. The man clearly spent too much time with his brother. At the meeting scheduled that afternoon to introduce her to the other staff members, she’d let him know. The thought sent a thrill of satisfaction through her.

  The living room looked much friendlier dominated by the growing light of day. A deep red square sofa faced a large flat-screen TV mounted on the wall over a working fireplace. Two chunks of wood lay in a woven basket on the floor, as if she weren’t hot enough. Tall bookcases flanked each side, mostly empty, though somebody had the dark humor to leave The Shining to keep her company on her first night in a haunted hotel. Yeah, real funny.

  A buzz sounded at the front door.

  Talia ran a hand through the tangles of her hair and straightened the tee to the sweats she’d slept in, wishing she’d gone to the bathroom first thing. Too late now.

  She peered through the front door’s peephole. A woman’s face warped into view.

  Talia opened the door, crossing her arms to cover her lack of a bra.

  “Good morning,” the woman said. “I’m Gillian Powell. I’m one of the doctors on staff.” She held a bundle of clothes in blues and purples, a flash of look-at-me pink, topped with athletic shoes.

  Dread pooled in Talia’s empty stomach. Those better not be for me.

  “Nice to meet you,” she said. “I’m Talia O’Brien.”

  “I know. I’m so glad you’re here,” Gillian said. “It’s such a boy’s club at Segue. We’ve got Vera in the lab and Priya in research and, of course, Mama Pat, but that’s it.”

  Gillian appeared in her middle forties and fighting each year. She was compact and overly busty, and wore enough foundation to disguise her true complexion, makeup applied with amazing and enviable precision.

  Gillian stepped around Talia to dump the clothes on the sofa. “Anyway, Adam asked me to outfit you this morning for Wraith Defense.” She made a sour face. “Goody for you.”

  Yeah. Goody. Talia had hoped she’d have the morning to herself before the big introduction that afternoon. No such luck.

  “I think I’ve got everything you’ll need.” Gillian glanced at Talia’s comparatively diminutive chest. “Sizing should be okay...mostly.”

  Talia stalled. “Um. So what exactly is Wraith Defense?”

  “Just the basics of how to defend yourself. Every month we are all required to drill, but we make a pretty lousy show of it. Most of us belong indoors, in a lab coat.”

  Talia’s stomach growled. “What about breakfast? I haven’t had a chance to stock my kitchen.”

  “Don’t bother. Marcie, Segue’s cook, is awesome. Just tell her what you like and she’ll get it. And that way, you don’t have to do dishes. I’ll show you on the way down.”

  “Are you drilling today, too?” Talia reached for the clothes. The hot pink would not be going on her body.

  “No. You, lucky girl, get a ménage à trois with Adam and Spencer.”

  Great. Her puddle of dread deepened. “I’ll go change.”

  Adam and another man, presumably Spencer, were sparring when Gillian led her outside to a stretch of fragrant grass near the buzzing, overgrown garden. The air was clingy, the sun still filtered by the trees.

  Talia stopped short. Adam couldn’t possibly expect her to fight like that.

  Slim black padding protected the men’s knuckles. Each wore a molded helmet. Adam, his dark crop of hair jutting out the back of his gear, wore black sweatpants and a T-shirt. His arm muscles strained the short sleeves, the material subtly stretched over a hard, fit chest to taper to a trim waist. The pants were cut somewhat loosely, the soft fall of the fabric belying the conditioned body within. Talia’s gaze lingered in momentary surprise and appreciation, before sudden self-awareness shifted her body from chill to rapid, embarrassed heat again.

  The other man, Spencer, pivoted and kicked Adam in the stomach. He, too, was dressed in black, though diagonal silver stripes accented the shirt’s ribbing and marked the breadth of his thighs on his pants.

  Adam caught the outstretched leg, twisted, and sent Spencer spinning to the ground. Spencer landed on his back, coiled, and sprang to his feet. Only to be sent down again by a side strike from Adam.

  Beautiful. They both had to be black belts at whatever they were doing. Gillian hooted approval.

  “Enough,” Adam called, breathlessly waving Spencer down. Adam unlatched the clasp under his chin and pulled the headgear off his sweaty head. Face flushed, chest heaving, he was the most potent man Talia had ever seen. The sight of him, coupled with what she knew of his character, was enough to confirm the obvious: Adam was a dangerous man.

  She wanted an icy-cold bucket over her head. She couldn’t very well make a show of fanning herself like Gillian was. Talia looked at the trees, the garden, and her borrowed sneakers. Anything but Adam.

  Spencer stood and removed his headgear as well, uncovering a shock of dark blond. When he grinned, one side curled a little higher than the other, making him appear a little naughty.

  Adam approached, forehead creasing as he gave Talia a once-over. His close proximity was disconcerting on several levels. Even the dark smell of his sweat was distracting, but not unpleasantly so. On the contrary, the sheen at his
neck had her wondering what it tasted li—

  “Did you sleep well?” Adam asked. “Any disturbances?”

  “Not a one,” Talia answered, regrouping. “By the way, I appreciate the reading material you provided.”

  Adam frowned; then a grin split his face. Made her heart jump.

  “The Stephen King,” he said, laughing. “You can thank Jim Remy. He charged sixty copies to me and put one in each room. All part of the Segue welcome package. How do you feel today?”

  Talia shrugged. “Okay. A little hot and cold.”

  His gaze turned analytical. Probing. When he looked at her like that, he saw too much. “Pat warned us about that. You’ll take some time to recover completely. Let me know if you are uncomfortable.”

  “I’m fine.” She tried for a bright smile, the kind that bounced off further questions, protecting the twisting nerves in her belly.

  “Okay, then,” Adam said. “I’d like to introduce you to Spencer Benedict, our liaison with the Strategic Preternatural Coalition Initiative, a division under the U.S. Department of Defense. He is here to coordinate and facilitate communication between Segue and SPCI.” He pronounced it speecee.

  Talia had wanted a cold bucket of water, now she got one.

  The government? If there were as many wraiths out there as Adam claimed, government cooperation made sense. Mutual aid suggested a shared objective, to discover the origin of wraiths and learn how to cure or destroy them. Intellectually, she accepted that, but anxiety still crawled over her skin. What did SPCI think of her?

  Talia approached and held out her hand like any normal person would. It was important to look normal. “Nice to meet you.”

  Her gaze flicked to Adam in question. Does he know?

  Adam shook his head shallowly.

  Spencer took her hand and squeezed. “Likewise.”

  Talia caught a quick rush of curiosity mingled with fading resentment and sharp competitiveness. If she had to make a guess, she didn’t think Spencer liked losing to Adam, especially in front of female witnesses.

  Adam’s intensity retreated. “Okay, then. First up, Wraith Defense 101. Spencer, I think we’re done here. Thanks for the workout; I needed it.”

  “Don’t you need someone to play wraith?” Spencer winked at Talia. It was a good cover, but Talia knew better. Spencer wanted another chance to show off.

  “We’re not doing much today. Dr. O’Brien isn’t fully recovered yet.”

  “You sure? I could stick around...” Spencer looked more closely at Talia. Made her retreat a step.

  “We’ll be fine. Thanks.” Adam’s tone was decisive.

  “You could go get that fifty you still owe me from last week’s poker game,” Gillian said to Spencer. Her tone was sarcastic, but she’d made a seductive S out of her body. Wasn’t hard with those curves. Talia felt awkward and gangly in comparison.

  “Why would I want to do that?” Spencer asked, hanging a sweaty arm over Gillian’s shoulders. “Then you’d stop bugging me about it.”

  “Because I’ll have to kick your ass if I don’t get it,” Gillian said.

  “Promises, promises,” Spencer returned. The two started back to Segue, taking their time to cross the grass.

  “Spencer got in this morning,” Adam said when the others had reached the building. “He doesn’t know anything about you beyond your dissertation and the mention of Shadowman. But he’s smart, so watch yourself around him. If he found out about your abilities, he’d feel obligated to inform his superiors.”

  Talia swallowed. Her knees felt suddenly weak. Now that she was recovered, she could run. Hide. She wouldn’t make the same mistakes she’d made before. She could go to...

  “Talia,” Adam said, “if and when your abilities become known to Spencer, I give you my word that I’ll be there every moment to see no harm comes to you. I make a good ally. You can trust me to stand by you.”

  Conviction underscored Adam’s words, and Talia knew he was well-meaning. But she’d felt just how close he was to the edge when he showed her Jacob. He was asking her to trust him to take care of her, but she knew the man was at his limit. He couldn’t do everything, be everywhere. He was only human.

  “Walk with me,” he said, and they headed for the trees. As they crossed the shin-deep grasses, Adam began, his tone losing its intimacy and taking on authority. “Every employee of Segue is trained in the basics of wraith defense. Most of it, you already know. You can’t kill a wraith; you can only subdue him for as long as he takes to regenerate. A wraith’s speed and strength will always outmatch yours several times over, so do not attempt a direct attack. Hiding is—with your exception—impossible; wraith senses far exceed ours.”

  So run like hell. Long grass stalks whipped at her ankles, stinging and biting. Talia stayed behind Adam to avoid any accidental touches. She couldn’t think straight when bits of his emotions buffeted her own. She was barely hanging on as it was.

  “The easiest way to subdue a wraith is with firearms. Because wraiths don’t react to pain and have superior endurance, shots to the head are much more likely to slow them down than shots to the body,” Adam continued. “You will be trained in the use of firearms. A firing range is set up on the other side of the building. There are occasions, however, when you may not have access to a gun.”

  Talia glanced at Adam’s face and regarded the yellow bruises on his temple. He’d had no firearm in the alley and barely escaped with his life.

  “Counterintuitive though it may seem, head for large groups of people. The wraiths have thus far retreated from public exposure.” Adam held a large tree branch out of the way and gestured for Talia to join the cool company of the trees.

  “But then why not expose them? Push the wraiths out in the open? Put them on the defensive.” Make them hide in the shadows for a change.

  Adam scowled. The branch slapped back behind him. “And cause widespread public panic? A wraith free-for-all buffet as our focus shifts from learning all we can about them to rescue and containment.”

  “Still. Public awareness—”

  “—would only complicate an already untenable situation. Not an option at this time. This is far enough.” Adam stopped in a wide circle of tall trees. Fragrant pine boughs, heavy with needles, overshadowed the spot.

  Talia halted and folded her arms, nails biting into her skin at her elbows. Pinched, but the discomfort was distracting her from yelling at the insanity of his position. The man wouldn’t even discuss forewarning the public when preemptive action could save lives.

  “I won’t press you physically today,” Adam said, “but we need to explore the possibilities and range of your fear reflex. We should be out of sight of Segue here. I’d have worked with you in the training rooms inside, but they can be monitored discretely, and with Spencer in residence, I want to play it very safe.”

  Safe would be getting far, far away from here. Away from Spencer, away from Jacob, and away from Adam and his unnerving way of getting under her skin.

  “Let’s start with your fear reflex. How your fear—”

  Something snapped inside her. “Can you quit calling it that? My fear? What the hell is that? Makes me sound pathetic, which I am, but you don’t have rub it in every chance you get.” Talia glanced over her shoulder. Nobody there, the white block of Segue cut into shining ribbons by the trunks of the trees. Nobody was close enough to hear. “And, furthermore, the word is not accurate: It’s not a reflex and it’s not made of fear. Just because you’ve witnessed my ability when I’ve been afraid, does not mean my fear creates it. You’re implying a causal relationship where none exists. Bad logic, really.”

  Adam lips twitched, one moment his demeanor hard, the next he strained for composure and gravity. As if this were funny.

  He should save himself the effort.

  “If not fear, then what is it? How does it work?”

  “I don’t know,” Talia said. The darkness did not come from inside her like emotion. She reached for the
thin, silky layers. Or—or moved into them, but without taking a step. In between one place and another, a place wraiths couldn’t reach.

  But that made no sense. It would be ridiculous to articulate it.

  “Well, how do you alter your environment? What is your range?” Adam stepped forward and grazed her jaw with the back of his fingers. “How is it that when I touch you in the midst of it, my perceptions change as well?”

  Adam’s touch was so quick and unexpected, Talia didn’t have time to dodge it or brace for what filled her. His stroke carried an electric current of interest, all his considerable intensity focused on her. It had been there in Jacob’s cell, a strange thread of intimate curiosity in the midst of painful revelations. But now, alone with him under the sky, the sensation had an edge of intent, and most disturbing of all, desire.

  Talia retreated. She couldn’t get her feelings straight when he stood so close. When his emotions tangled with her own. Did he have to crowd her space? Did he have to ask so many questions? Couldn’t he just give her a little room to breathe?

  “Can you do it at will?” He dropped his hand.

  His questions needed answers. She’d had a peek inside him. Now it was her turn. Aunt Maggs would be horrified that she was about to break her childhood promise to never, ever tell anyone about what she could do. Sorry, Maggs—the worst had already happened. She’d been discovered, and now she had to learn how to save herself.

  “I—” Damn it. She’d never talked about this before. She remembered what Adam had been through, took a terrifying inward leap, and started again. “For me, shadows have texture and...and substance. I can feel them. Even now, I can feel them.”

  They were all around her—in the dark patches under the trees, the filtered light through the leaves, the cast of her and Adam’s body on the ground. If she wanted, she could reach for the darkness, tuck herself under its umbrella to look out at life from a safe refuge.

  “How does it feel?” Adam’s tone softened.

  Talia sighed. “Safe. And cold.” And lonely.