by Lisa Olsen
“Thank you, Jakob.” I drew in another breath but he was gone. The man who’d changed my life in so many ways, for better and for worse, left without an argument, his steps a blur on the walk in his hurry to get away. It was so easily done, I couldn’t help but wonder if that was truly the last I’d see of him.
I felt Rob’s hesitant touch at my elbow and I turned to wrap one arm around him, my injured arm tucked close to my body. “It’s okay to hug me, you belong to me now.”
“I can’t believe you did that,” he said into my hair, holding me close.
“Are you sorry I did it?”
“No…”
I heard the hesitation there and I pulled back to look at him. “Do you think he won’t keep his word?”
“No, that’s not it.”
“What then? I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about it first, but I saw the opportunity and I took it.”
“That’s understandable, I reckon.”
“And I’m sorry that I left you behind when this all went down. I just couldn’t put you in the middle of it. I had to take the risk and I couldn’t be sure you’d let me if I clued you into the plan.”
“You’re not wrong there,” he muttered.
“I know it must feel like I’m doing that a lot, but…”
“Anja…”
“I swear it won’t always be like this. At least I hope not. If another Ellri pops out of the woodwork I don’t know what I’m going to…”
“Anja…” he tried again, silencing me with a kiss when I kept right on talking.
“Yes?” I breathed when he released my mouth.
“I love you and I don’t care much who knows it no more.” The quiet torture behind his eyes that I’d come to expect was gone, replaced with something I’d glimpsed only a handful of times since I’d known him. Happiness. All of a sudden the pain in my arm didn’t seem to matter, nothing mattered because we’d won. We were finally free. Not without scars, but all of us had a chance to heal and be happy now with both Ellri effectively gone.
“I could get used to hearing you say that,” I beamed, leaning close to steal another kiss. No… not steal, because there were no more furtive moments between us any longer. These kisses were freely taken and given, without the threat of torture or death and it felt glorious!
But despite the newfound freedom, I started to think this wasn’t the best place in the world to get too kissy, what with Hanna sobbing in the corner and Bishop sitting there on the couch like a lump. And that’s when it dawned on me, he’d been sitting there for an awfully long time.
“Bishop, are you alright?” He made no move to acknowledge me and I let go of Rob to approach him, worry gathering in the pit of my stomach. “Bishop, is there something wrong?”
He looked up at me, his green eyes haunted. “I know what Lodinn said, his final taunt to Jakob.”
The worry did a flip-flop and turned into a hard ball of fear. “What is it? What’s so awful?”
“She’s still alive. Carys is still out there alive somewhere.”
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Read on for a special preview of Lisa Olsen’s novel, The Company of Shadows, available now!
Books by Lisa Olsen:
The Touch
Pretty Witches All in a Row
Moonsong
Nine Steps to Sara
The Company Series:
The Company of Shadows
The Company of Darkness
Book 3 (announced)
The Fallen Series:
Angel of Mercy
Mercy for the Wicked
Mercy for the Damned
Child of Mercy
Mercy for the Fallen
Forged Bloodlines Series:
Wake Me When the Sun Goes Down
Meet Me When the Sun Goes Down
Find Me When the Sun Goes Down
Miss Me When the Sun Goes Down
Follow Me When the Sun Goes Down
Hear Me When the Sun Goes Down
Release Me When the Sun Goes Down
Trust Me When the Sun Goes Down (Fall 2014)
The Vampire Diaries:
Tabula Rasa
For more information, visit the author’s website at http://www.lisaolsen.net
or her author page on Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/author/lisaolsen
You can also visit her on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/lisaolsenrobotbrain
Preview - The Company of Shadows
Chapter One
Need.
Not wants or desires, but need drove Asherik to seek the company of shadows. The sunlight didn’t pain him in a physical sense, but he preferred the darkness. All manner of interesting things grew bolder under the cover of night, all driven by need. Street toughs openly flashed makeshift weapons, demanding tribute of those stupid enough to look prosperous on the seamy streets of San Francisco. Junkies smashed car windows, searching for anything portable worth a few dollars, desperate to slide oblivion into their veins. Women sold their bodies, some to chase that same oblivion, some to feed a deeper need. Scuttling vermin and insects; night was the perfect time to feed, and Ash felt a hunger that couldn’t be satisfied by tender bits of veal sautéed in an excellent Marsala.
Though he enjoyed the comforts of excess (the elegant meal, black satin sheets, and panoramic views of the bay that stretched from every window of the modern house he’d appropriated), Ash preferred the seedy squalor of the Tenderloin district when it came time to satisfy his true hunger. There, among the dregs of human society, he felt a kinship. His sins were no worse than the sins of man. There were plenty who fed from terror, pain and lust. Tonight he was after something far more elusive – innocence.
He could pluck a victim from the streets at any time for the taste of fear; it was corruption Ash sought. Corruption of innocence above all else, a feat made all that much more elusive for the hunting ground he chose. It would be nothing to lay in wait outside of a church or a library and find all manner of easy prey, but he wanted more. Nothing so simple as virginity, though that was a keen pleasure to be had, but an innocence of spirit was all the more satisfying to consume. Far tastier than the gobbets of quivering flesh he fed upon when the mood struck.
Though he enjoyed the occasional grapple with men, Ash preferred the softness of women. There were women to be had on the streets, but their dead eyes offered him no joy. He wanted to hunt. He wanted the thrill of discovery.
And so he’d dressed himself in an elegant suit of virgin wool, soft against the skin and pleasing to the eye. Black on black, open at the throat, with a shock of scarlet peeping out of the breast coat pocket. Perhaps a bit warm, given the muggy night, but Ash didn’t mind the heat. He enjoyed a good sweat.
He pushed the silver coupe he’d appropriated through the squalid streets with a squeal of tires, daring a policeman to stop him. There were none in sight, having abandoned that part of the city for the night unless called. Parking a short distance away from his chosen destination, he didn’t bother to lock the car, preferring to make it easier on thieves. It made no difference to him if the car was there on his return, and after a brief consideration, left the keys in the car; a lucky find for a comrade.
The neon and pumping music called him to his purpose. Inferno – the club brought him everything his delicate palate could desire. Here, women were used in the dirty bathrooms and no one looked twice. One could obtain all manner of mood altering drugs through sale or trade. Sometimes Ash chose to indulge. Turn on, tune in, drop out… the concept hadn’t changed much since the sixties, and there was a draw to that kind of nothingness.
If he was in the mood for a quick fuck, there were women who required less than a crook of his finger to follow him wherever he led. The body he’d chosen was well formed and desired by women. Dark, smoldering eyes that promi
sed a garden of delights, strong jaw covered in a rasp of stubble, designed to raise a flush of tender pink on delicate flesh. Lips full and constantly quirked in a half smile that implied he knew secrets. Secrets he might share with the right woman.
That was all that mattered, be the woman pretty or plain. Make a woman feel special and she became yours, body and soul. Sometimes Ash allowed himself to become lost in the pursuit of debauchery alone. To bury himself in soft, slick heat, chasing pleasure until the dawn. He left those women with nothing more than a satisfied soreness and a love bite or two.
But always the need returned.
Need drove him to push past the crowd, plucking a full glass from an unguarded table (it mattered little what it held), settling on a white vinyl couch in the rear of the club to watch. Ash liked to watch. He liked it very much.
There was an air of indifference to the swaying throng; an almost tangible apathy, as though none of them expected to live to see the dawn. Peppered among them, like writhing tongues of flame burning brightly in the gloom, were those who were in over their heads. It was there that he hoped to find the flash of innocence he sought.
It was there that he spotted her. Long, raven hair spilling down her back, beckoning to him, begging him to wrap its length around his fist and pull her close. But he would watch and wait. The night was still young and he enjoyed the pleasure of allowing the need to build.
For now.
Chapter Two
“Sometimes I feel like I’m the only person in the world not having sex.” Cady Garrett leaned against the scarred table, not liking the way the low couch stuck to her sweaty skin when she sat back. It made her wonder what other bodily fluids had been stuck to the cheap vinyl in the past.
“That’s just silly.” Kelli held platinum curls away from her neck, pressing a cool glass to her cheek. Even without all the dancing, there were enough people in the club generating body heat to rival any sauna. Never troubled by modesty, she wore the briefest of skirts, a generous amount of flesh showing both above and below the scraps of pink fabric she called a blouse. Cady could see Kelli flexing her bare toes under the table. That’s what she got for wearing ridiculously high heels to a dance club. “Did you even see that guy over there with the ponytail? Trust me, you are not the only person not having sex tonight.”
Cady couldn’t help but look, hiding her smile behind a rum and diet soda. Falling into the game, she pointed a discreet finger alongside the glass. “And sausage fingers guy isn’t having sex.”
“I’m not having sex,” Penny volunteered in her babydoll voice. She alone seemed unbothered by the heat in a navy blue dress, better suited for a dinner at the marina. Probably because she was so tiny, her body didn’t produce enough of its own heat to keep warm. She’d actually brought a sweater with her despite the summer heat, her dark hair loose, covering her shoulders both in front and back.
It made Cady itch to tie it back into a ponytail, glad her own long, auburn hair was wound up and out of the way in twin knots. Her clothes lay somewhere in the middle of the two extremes her friends sported. A thin, strappy tanktop over skinny jeans and pretty sandals she could dance in without breaking a toe. Cady wasn’t on the prowl, she just wanted to relax and have a good time. “That doesn’t count, you’re engaged,” she said, taking another cooling sip of her watered down drink.
“Which is ridiculous. You should be having more sex than the two of us put together,” Kelli snorted.
“No one has more sex than you, Kelli.” Penny gave her a sweet smile, ducking to avoid the wadded up napkin Kelli threw at her. “Hey, can I help it if Justin is old fashioned? He wants to wait, so we’re waiting.”
“No guy likes to wait,” Cady murmured. It was part of the reason why she wasn’t having sex these days. No guys liked to stick around long enough for her to be sure. Not since high school when sex wasn’t expected after the third date anyway.
“What if you get to the big night and it’s… you know…” Kelli’s finger wilted and she made an accompanying sound like dying in a videogame, but Penny maintained her serene superiority.
“It’ll be wonderful because we waited.”
“I’m sure it’ll be magical.” A touch of envy crept into Cady’s smile, though she wasn’t sure her friend had the right idea either. Cady wasn’t exactly saving herself for marriage; if she found a guy she loved, she’d be doing the deed every chance she got.
“And if it’s not…” Penny’s voice lowered, as if she was about to share something wicked. “Then I’ll just pack old reliable with me and take care of it myself.” The women traded a giggle, clinking their glasses in a hasty toast.
“Well, I’m not old fashioned, I’m jaded,” Cady proclaimed with a weary sigh. Burned by too many men (and too recently), she’d made a silent promise to herself to take a break from the dating world.
“How can you be jaded already?” Kelli scoffed. “You’re barely nineteen years old. Look at me, twenty-three and I’ve slept with half the population of Angola. If anyone should be jaded, it’s me.”
“Cool it!” Cady’s gaze darted around nervously. “I don’t want to get tossed out of here.”
“Newsflash, nobody cares.” Kelli drained the rest of her glass and pressed it to her cheek, chasing after the remnants of cold. “Look around, they’re too caught up in their own shit to waste two seconds over whether or not you should be in here.”
“I guess,” Cady relaxed. She was right, nobody gave her a second look. “Hey, what is the population of Angola, by the way? Just so we know what kind of numbers we’re talking about,” she teased, drawing a narrowing of the eyes from her blonde friend.
“Oh Cady, you’re looking at this all wrong.” Penny shook her head, chasing after the cherry in the bottom of her glass with the flimsy straw. “You’re the opposite of jaded, you’re a romantic.”
Cady almost spilled her drink, eyes bugging out at the ridiculous statement. “What? Take that back!” she demanded, but to her disgust, Kelli joined in with a sad shake of the head.
“You know it’s true.”
“It is,” Kelli added. “That’s why you haven’t hooked up since Stefan dumped you. You’re still waiting for that perfect, non-existent guy to sweep you off your feet.”
Familiar words of protest jumped to the ready, it was a subject they’d gone over before. “He didn’t dump me, I dumped him.”
“Only after he stopped calling you.”
“I thought we agreed not to mention the S word anymore?” Cady scowled at Penny until she went back to chasing her cherry.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled.
Cady fell back against the couch, hugging her elbows. “I’m not waiting for a perfect guy,” she muttered. “I’m just tired of going out with guys who are only after one thing.”
“I know what you need.” Kelli’s blue eyes widened, and Cady’s stomach sank, fearing the blonde’s passion for whatever it was.
“Please don’t say makeover…”
“Oh, that would be super fun, but not what I was going for.” Kelli waved the thought away. “I was thinking more along the lines of you taking a break from picking out guys since your judgment is obviously flawed.”
That didn’t sound so bad, especially since it already went with what she had in mind.
“Instead you should let us pick out your next guy!”
Because her judgment was so much better? “That’s crazy. All you know how to pick is guys to hook up with.”
“That doesn’t mean I don’t know how to pick the super boring guys you’re into,” Kelli insisted, earning a frown from Cady.
“I don’t like boring guys.”
Kelli continued, undeterred. “Besides, Penny knows how to pick guys that want to wait, look at Justin. He’s almost not even a man.”
“He’s a man…” Penny ventured in a small voice, and the pair debated that for a few minutes while Cady watched, until they both turned to her with expectant faces.
“This is s
tupid,” Cady insisted, refusing to even consider it.
“No, really. Just for tonight, either you pick a guy or we’ll pick for you.” The bubbly girl stuck out her hand. “Deal?”
“Why would I make a dumb deal like that?” Cady kept her hand firmly in her lap. “I don’t want to go out with anybody.”
“That’s because you haven’t met our guy yet,” Penny nodded brightly, her dark eyes already searching. “Let’s see… who do we have to work with?” They made a big show of scanning the crowd, but Cady sat back, already having lost interest in the game. As if it was that easy. Pick a guy out like a book on the shelf. Didn’t they realize you couldn’t judge a book by its cover? Otherwise Rico Suave from across the room with his dark, smoldering looks (and probable venereal warts) would be the answer to all her dreams.
While she went up to the bar to buy another round of drinks they continued their search, squabbling between themselves over what type of guy Cady needed. Kelli insisted Cady needed a hottie to make her forget about her stupid standards and have a bit of fun for a change, while Penny seemed to take the exercise very seriously, carefully assessing the possible suitors.
She made it back to the table with the drinks in time to see Kelli throw her hands up in disgust. “I give up, how about that homeless guy over there?” she gestured, not even caring if he heard her or not.
Cady’s head swiveled, unable to keep from looking. He sat alone in the corner, elbows resting against the table, watching the crowd with an unshakable intensity. Wearing a blue hoodie under a faded army jacket, everything about him appeared rumpled and frayed, prompting the homeless crack, but she didn’t think he actually lived on the streets, he was too clean.
An unshaven jaw, not the kind Rico Suave over there cultivated to perfection, but rough, as if he’d forgotten to shave for a week. The straight blonde hair was a little shaggy on top too, but trimmed close on the sides in an almost military cut. His nose was too flat to be conventionally handsome and had obviously been broken before, but the eyes were a clear, cornflower blue, free from the glassy stare of drugs or too much drink.
