ETERNAL SOULS: A Shadow Creek Novel (Shadow Creek Series Book 1)

by J. C RIMELL

  Valerie felt her own hunger erupt like a burning flame in her throat as she scented the woman's blood. But she saw a strange look in Leon's gaze, a possessiveness toward the female she didn't quite comprehend.

  “Leave us for now, Valerie.”

  “Of course, sire.” She hid her confusion beneath the graceful mask she wore, and leaving his chamber, Valerie decided she would seize the moment. She would take his distraction in this woman he'd found and use it as her chance to escape.

  Chapter Forty

  Jack Henderson made good his excuses and left the Society's meeting only a few minutes after it had begun, taking with him three Sentinels: Tatum Casteel, Jake Gray, and Remi Skye. All had legions of years experience in combat between them and covered the neighboring town, Grace Valley.

  The four men traveled toward Wyoming in Remi Skye's sleek, red Maserati. He was Italian and loved Italian fast cars. It wasn't the most comfortable ride with four supernatural shifters cushioned into it, but it ate up the miles with dizzying speed. It was close to three in the morning when they pulled into the motel's parking lot and entered the reception.

  “Two rooms?” The male receptionist with the thinning comb-over asked. His eyes bounced between the four men, adding two and two together and coming up with a whole different equation.

  “Ah, yes. I mean… you know, this isn't what you're thinking.” Remi's hands did some habitual gesturing toward his fellow shifters. “I like pretty girls. No, women. You know, these guys are just friends. Capiche?”

  Comb over held his hands up toward them accompanied by a shrug. “I don't give a rats ass what you're into Romeo as long as you pay upfront and―”

  Tatum had the guy by the collar in one hand and held aloft in the air leaving his feet dangling at his desk. “I don't like your attitude and my sexuality has nothing the fuck to do with you.” Tatum was a straight as they came, but even if he weren't it would be no one's business but his own.

  Jack rolled his eyes as the situation seemed to go from bad to worse. Pushing Remi aside he gave Tatum a pointed look and the six foot six of solid muscle dropped comb over guy back into the chair with a heavy thud. Jack cleared his throat noting the guy's name name pinned to his shirt.

  “Doug.” He leaned in toward the receptionist and stuck his police badge under the male's nose who was now ashen and had evidently pissed himself. “What my friend's trying to say is that we're here on official police business, so enough with the chit-chat already and just book us the hell in.”

  An hour later, fed, washed, and changed, the four shifters were meeting Ryker at the rendezvous point half a mile from the stake out. The forest was thick and dense as the men devised the next course of action. It was difficult: they couldn't be sure of exact numbers, the layout of the property or any hidden areas. Someone would have to infiltrate the premises before an attack. Losing one man would be hard, losing multiple men would be detrimental to the shifter family.

  “Gunner and Nevada are keeping observation on the location. I'm the most experienced in this kind of thing, no offense.” Ryker glanced around at the other men, who nodded with easy acceptance. “I should be the one to go in.”

  Jack sighed, he knew it made sense. Ryker was overly qualified for such a task, but sending someone else into the line of fire was something that left him with a disquiet unease. “I appreciate that, Ryker, but I'm the most senior rank here. No offense,” he offered back with a smile.

  Ryker cocked his head to the side. “None taken.”

  “I'll go in, scope it out,” he paused, his gaze darting between his comrades. “If I'm not out within twenty, presume the worst.” They fell quiet for a few moments, feeling a heavy weight settle in their hearts. It was Tatum who broke the silence.

  “I gather you've got all the necessary equipment?” His deep, English, baritone voice sounded far too polite against his menacing, visual appearance. Despite his collar-length, raven hair holding a hint of blue in the darkness and having pale gray eyes as piercing as the stars overhead, it was the scar running from his top lip, along his cheek, and up to his left ear that distracted his audience.

  “Yeah,” Ryker grunted. “I got a couple of Colts with underslung grenade launchers. Heckler and Koch's and flamethrowers among other toys. We'll also have radio communication as back up.” They all had the telepathy to communicate with each other, but Ryker wasn't taking any chances. If they were too far from one another or their ability failed due to injury, the microscopic radio comms he'd made would transmit over a thirty-mile radius.

  Jack nodded in affirmation. “Then let's get this show on the road.”

  §

  Valerie Dupont was free. And for the first time in her life she felt weightless, an unfamiliar feeling of what she assumed to be happiness swelled in the pit of her stomach. She didn't know what it was about the female Leon had brought back to the coven, but she owed the woman an immense debt of gratitude.

  She looked around her room. The cold stone walls and dank air did little to persuade her to stay and she decided there was nothing she wanted, except to leave this place and the past as far away as she possibly could.

  Dressed in black jeans and a cream cashmere sweater, Valerie eased into a pair of comfortable black leather boots and a dark green parka. She tucked some I.D and cash into a small satchel. Coming from a wealthy family, she had a bank account with money should she need it. The jewelry she'd inherited and salvaged before fleeing the fire that had destroyed their home had sold for a very reasonable sum. Having no need to use money, it had had many years to accumulate and gave her no cause to worry financially.

  Her smile was shaky at best. He would find her; she knew Leon would hunt her down. But as she sneaked out the of secluded back door breathing in a lungful of frigid air, it somehow tasted fresher and sweeter than it ever had. Valerie threw caution to the wind and escaped into the waning night.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Christopher Warden was distracted. Half his shifters were missing from the meeting. Busy, either tracking down vampires he'd believed to be a distant page in their history books. Or guarding the streets of his towns from some other supernatural creatures. A species that was still unidentified. But those weren't the only things that had diverted his attentions.

  His grandson was sitting only a few feet away. He hadn't seen Cade in a while and was surprised by just how the young shifter had bulked out, grown taller, and looked a hell of a lot like his father. Warden swallowed the knot of guilt in his throat as he recalled the loss of his son like a blade puncturing his heart.

  The meeting had been over for a few minutes and the remaining shifters were talking amongst themselves and preparing to leave. He watched Cade with interest and noticed how he seemed perplexed and edgy. For the first time, Christopher Warden got up out of his seat and prepared to strike up a conversation with his grandson.

  “You look like your father.”

  Cade shifted in his seat to look up at the Overseer. He didn't feel like making idle chit-chat, but this wasn't just one of the guys. This was the head of the Society and you didn't get to give him the brush off. So he cleared his throat and then stood up. “Do I, Sir?”

  “Ah, yes you do,” he answered with a smile that creased his eyes at the edges. Feeling a little awkward in the silence that followed, he looked around to make sure no one was watching.

  “Did you know him well?” Cade asked, having felt a sudden spark of interest within himself at the mention of his late father.

  Warden nodded. “I knew him very well, he was a brave and courageous shifter.” He stared into eyes that held the same intelligence as his son's once had. “You are a great deal like him, so I've heard.”

  Cade scoffed. “Really? I find that a little hard to believe.”

  The Overseer's eyes narrowed in contemplation. “I'm heading out. Can I give you a lift back to the compound? I have a matter I'd rather like to discuss with you.”

  Cade arched a brow and a few remaining heads
in the room turned in slight astonishment. Getting an invitation to accompany the head of the Society wasn't an everyday occurrence. You were either in deep shit or had done something highly commendable. Cade hazard a guess it was the former of the two.

  “Ah, yeah. Okay, sir.”

  The smell of the expensive, cream leather filled the interior of the Bentley Cade was sitting in beside Christopher Warden. And although he was a Harley guy through and through, even Cade had to admit this ride was sweet indeed. His palms were sweaty, and he was desperately trying not to let his attention volley back to Kit. The Overseer had incredible power and any loose emotions or unprotected thoughts would not go unnoticed.

  “Might I ask who she is?” Warden asked.

  Shit. “Wow, you don't miss a thing, do you, sir?” Cade said in a voice that held little surprise.

  Warden chuckled. “When you reach my age and position, I can assure you, nothing gets past you.” He was well spoken, held an air of elegant disposition that seemed ageless, and although from farther North, his Ps and Qs were always on point.

  Cade turned his head to look the Overseer in the eye, he should have felt intimidated by the older, more powerful male, but he didn't. He felt as though it was just two men having a conversation, on the same level as one another. Though, Cade knew that was a million miles away from the truth.

  “Then you already know I'm not permitted a mate, and I very much doubt I'll ever climb the ladder high enough to put you out of a job… Sir.” He tried to hold back the sour timbre in his voice, but it seeped through despite his best effort.

  Warden held the young man's glare, his dominance rippling off him in waves. “Then why care for her the way you so obviously do?”

  Cade's jaw ticked, he didn't want to be having this conversation. He wanted to be with Kit. He made no reply and after several long moments and a rather uncomfortable stare-down, he dropped his gaze and turned away, defeated by his elder.

  “Your father was madly in love with your mother,” Warden said, breaking the lingering silence. “I forebode him to see her, he was meant for bigger, better things. He'd been chosen by the Society but insisted Emma meant more to him than anything else.”

  Cade listened intently now, staring at the Overseer's reflection in the blacked out window.

  “I pushed him away, and the night I lost my only son was a calamity I have yet to recover from. A burden that is deservedly mine to bear.”

  Cade didn't think he'd heard the Overseer correctly. His head whipped round, brows creased tightly together in confusion. “Did you just say your son?”

  “Seems nothing gets past you either.” His smile was weak. “Yes, your father was my son, and you, Cade Grayson are my only grandson.”

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Crouching behind the thickness of a fallen tree overgrown with ivy and brambles, Jack Henderson and the five other shifters synchronized their watches. He checked his Beretta. Tightened the leather strapping to his upper thigh holding the six-inch bladed hunting knife tucked in its sheath and got ready to go into unchartered territory.

  They all took a turn in clasping his hand. Words weren't necessary. Each shifter present considered themselves privileged to be working alongside one another. The weight of duty felt heavy on their shoulders, but they were soldiers, warriors in a new supernatural war they were determined to win.

  With a silent nod, he slipped into the fading darkness. Once he was a few hundred yards away, he stopped and checked his earpiece. He whispered into the tiny pin in the top pocket of his black camo vest. Everything was working as it should be, and he continued through the forest with an easy familiarity. It was practically home from home. A different location yet his wolf felt calm in the woodland surroundings while always remaining sharp and alert.

  It wasn't long before he hunkered down low and took to a military crawl just a few meters away from the large hunting lodge. The building was impressive. A flicker of light in a room on the second level and an outside light lit up the long porch to the front that swept around the far side. His sight had adjusted to the tapering darkness, and Jack felt a sudden chill of unease spike in his gut. It just seemed far too quiet, no movement, no sound. Until his sensitive hearing picked up the faintest disturbance, a rustle through some shrubs fifty yards away to his left.

  He thought it was just a wild animal; the area was likely to have deer, bear and other large wildlife roaming amidst the forest landscape. But when he heard it a second time, he scented the air and what he detected was anything but an animal. The vibrant essence of orchids and femininity was like a slap in the face that caught him completely off guard. Moving backward with deliberate slowness he regained his crouch position before rising to his feet out of view of the building. In a stealthy, predator sprint he headed toward the scent. Easily dodging trees and branches and clearing brambles and vines threatening to snare his feet with the grace of an accomplished athlete.

  Valerie suddenly felt as though she wasn't alone as she made her way across the dirt track and into the protective limbs of the trees. She searched all around, her eyesight sharp and clear in the darker shadows of the forest and found nothing. Shaking herself free from her anxiety, she imagined it was just fear of the unknown. Of finally being alone after so many long years of being trapped.

  She quickened her pace with no clue to where she was heading. Valerie knew she would have to stay as close to woodland areas as possible and find places to hide out of the strong rays of the sun. With her senses heightened and ears pricked for every sound, she cursed when she didn't hear what came upon her until it was almost too late.

  Dodging the arm that threatened to imprison her, she increased her speed. Almost a blur she was sure to lose the enormous male she'd caught a glimpse of in her periphery. Keeping her focus on escaping, she resisted the urge to look behind, concentrating on her footing and skirting around the trees that sprang into her path. Valerie didn't know who the male was or why he wanted her, but she refused to have her freedom taken before she'd even had a chance to embrace it.

  She ran continuously for five minutes and covered a vast amount of ground within seconds. Valerie should have put leagues between her and the stranger.

  Slowing her breakneck speed, she stretched her hearing and waited. Had she known it would prove to be a mistake, she would have kept on running.

  The female was incredibly fast and Jack had to go all out to just about keep up with her. If not for his sharp hunting sight and extraordinary speed himself, he would have surely lost her. Catching sight of her up ahead, he slowed and hunkered down, letting her think she'd outrun him. Then keeping low, Jack pounced from behind, bringing the female to the ground with a thud. Turning her over with surprising speed he covered her mouth with a hand. His knife was already withdrawn from its sheath with the other. Jack straddled the woman, pinning her arms beneath his knees and thrusting the razor sharp edge of the blade to her throat.

  Female or not, he wasn't about to take any chances and jeopardize himself or his comrades. He'd dealt with plenty of strong-willed women that could easily put a man on his ass.

  Her fragrance was a disarming distraction on his senses as was her beauty. She was a dazzling sight as he absorbed her translucent, creamy skin beneath the milky glow of the lingering moonlight. Her dark hair fell in waves around her face and her eyes were two, midnight orbs glittered with dwindling starlight.

  She struggled underneath him and something awoke his wolf deep inside. He tried to ignore the strange heat that had suddenly flared in his chest and he ordered his wolf to heal. She was strong, far too strong and fast for any human, which led him to believe he was atop of a vampire.

  He leaned forward, her dark, fragrant perfume rose up into his nostrils, filled his lungs and made his wolf howl. “I don't want to hurt you,” he warned, feeling her cease in her attempts to break free. “Are you willing to cooperate? Nod once for yes.”

  After a brief hesitation, she nodded once. She had little choice. Le
aning back, he kept the knife fixed at the hollow of her throat and slowly removed his hand from her mouth.

  And God Almighty, what a delicious mouth it was!

  She struck during his momentary lapse in concentration. Needlepoint fangs shot out with a hiss and she bit the free hand he'd allowed to rest next to her face, drawing blood from two puncturing bite marks.

  “Ah, fuck!”

  Henderson? What the hell is going on, man? Jack's mind resonated with Ryker's unease.

  Again the female struggled, and he knew he had to get her under control before everything went tits up. Jack composed himself swiftly. He wasn't one to hit a woman, never had, never would, and any man that did so was a fucking coward in his book. But he wasn't dealing with a weak woman here. She could completely blow the operation, and men, good men could be deadly injured or possibly even killed.

  It still didn't make what he was contemplating any easier to stomach.

  Clenching his injured hand into a steel fist he brought it behind him, praying to God her supernatural species wasn't too tough for his first hit to be effective. It wasn't something he could repeat a second time. He asked for forgiveness as he was about to strike, only, his fist went into the ground beside her beautiful face, unable to do it. He saw the slightest flinch in her eyes and her body stilled.

  “Goddamn it!” He cursed low and vicious.

  Relief and guilt flooded his veins when the woman stayed quiet. Her eyes showed no signs of fear, if anything they stared up at him full of curiosity.

  “I… Shit… I don't want to hurt you.” He dropped his head a little closer to her face, cautious of her bite. “But make no mistake, if you so much as squeak this blade will silence you.”

  Hauling her up off the ground he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her back into him. The razor sharp blade of steel remained poised at her throat. “Move,” he ordered, trying to pay no heed to just how good her body felt against his own.