Shadow of Death: Book Two of the Chosen Chronicles

by Karen Dales

  “What do you what, Dr. Bowen?”

  She had never heard him with anger in his voice and wondered at the regression of her name. It startled her and got her ire up.

  “I want to know what happened to you.” She closed the bathroom door, not wishing their discussion to wake Vee and her friend. “And I want to know why Vee came home without you.”

  “You’re daughter is safe.” He rolled the tensor in preparation for its use. “The rest doesn’t matter. I’ll be leaving as soon as night falls.”

  His dismissal of her concern for him drove Elizabeth forward to grasp the bandage from his hands, noticing the blackened cut on his left. She met his glare with one of her own. “Doesn’t matter? Of course it matters. I ask you to accompany my daughter and you come back bruised, battered and ready for a fight.”

  A flicker of guilt momentarily broke his visage before being replaced with a mask of ice. With no reply forthcoming Elizabeth pressed on.

  “Do you think you don’t matter? That’s bullshit. Do you think I open my door and entrust the care of my daughter to just anyone? Do you think I have sex with someone just for the sake of it? I have to consider that person a friend, someone I care about.” She jabbed her finger into his damp smooth chest. “I have to trust that person. And stop calling me Dr. Bowen. My name is Elizabeth. Use it.”

  She could not believe her outburst. Her eyes widened in surprise before she recovered her indignant glare. It was, therefore, a shock when he grabbed her shoulders and planted the most passionate kiss on her lips she had ever experienced.

  He did not plan to kiss Elizabeth and was as surprised as she, but when she opened her mouth to let him enter the pressure from the rage and the hurt from millennia old lies grabbed him. He did not deny Elizabeth’s truth and a large part of him pressed its veracity. He darted his tongue into her mouth, luxuriating in the texture and taste until her tongue caressed his and entered his mouth.

  She tasted of stale wine as he attempted to devour her. She considered him a friend, but for how long until she too abandoned him?

  Mouths still locked onto each other his rage fuelled his desire. Hands finding the ties of her robe, he unknotted the terrycloth and jerked the robe from her body. A part of him registered that she had helped but he did not care as the heat of her body pressed against his. Her hands ran up his chest until fingers interlocked behind his neck, keeping the embrace of lips.

  He broke off the kiss, feeling his movements controlled by another. Inches apart, his eyes flicked over Elizabeth’s face noting her heavy breathing and dilated blue eyes. He grit his teeth as anger surged forward. He would not be controlled again. Ignoring the pains of his body he bent to kiss her, biting and sucking at her lips, forcing moans from her. His hands reached behind his head, unlocking her grip, as he lowered her arms his hands followed. It was when he felt the firm roundness of her thighs as her hands came to rest on them that he growled, pressing his kisses until she was trapped between the counter and him. His body thrilled as she squirmed, realizing her predicament, and devoured her moan as it vibrated through him. Without another thought he pressed further, his body rigid in its throbbing need. Abruptly, he sat her on the counter and left her pinioned hands to lift and separate her thighs until he was able to slam himself into the hot moist centre of her being.

  Her cry and scrabbling to gain purchase broke their kiss, but he did not care. Hand against the mirror and one supporting her rump he pulled out only to penetrate her defences, slamming himself against her inner gates to demand further entrance. She tried to pull away but she was trapped.

  Again and again he entered her, aware of the gradual tightening around and through him. All was physical sensation demanding release. Soon her body was slick with sweat and each quickening penetration broke her lips with a cry. He did not want it to end and so he closed his eyes, the heat and wet of her inner being driving him forward until he could not stand it any longer. With a shout that was part growl his body exploded, shuddering its pulsating release until it was mimicked with caresses that promised to drain him to the quick.

  An eternity passed before the sounds of rapid heavy breathing opened his eyes. Still conjoined, his eyes met Elizabeth’s and the full impact of what he had done made him gasp. Pulling out, he shuddered.

  What have I done?

  All the rage had been expelled as his body released itself into her. Elizabeth’s face was flushed as she attempted to right her uncomfortable position and he turned his back, grabbing the towel hanging on the bar to wrap it around his waist. The stabbing ache in his side returned making every effort to quiet his rampaging breath difficult. He could not believe what he had just done.

  Shame and guilt overwhelmed him and he bowed his head, white wet ropes falling to cover his face. How could he have done that after all he had gone through in his life? But he knew. He closed his eyes and took a painful shuddering breath. He wanted to hurt someone, anyone, because he was hurt. He was about to leave when he felt something he had never felt before. His body stiffened and his attention focused on the gentle fingers that traced the silver ridges along his back, the heat of her palms scorching him as they slid along to larger swatches where skin and muscle had been flayed from his body. He stood there, more aware of the damage his body had sustained than ever before.

  The hands slid to his sides but did not wrap to embrace him. He winced as her hand brushed the bruised skin over broken ribs until the hands disappeared to be replaced but the smooth flow of warmth as she pressed against him. She was not running away. She was still there beside him. White brows pulled together in confusion. Silence filled the room only to be punctuated by the occasional drip from the shower.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I should not have—”

  “What happened to you, Gwyn?” she asked. The warmth of her breath caressed his scarred back.

  His frown deepened in the realization of what she was truly asking and it had nothing to do with beating he had taken earlier. “I was never wanted. As a babe I was left to die by a family I never knew, all because of my appearance.” He could not believe he was confiding in her like this, but he could not stop the flow of words. “I was raised in secret by a woman who was killed because people found out about me.” The band around his heart tightened, proving the ancient scars were still intact. “Throughout my life people have been terrified of me and sought to kill me, or they would want to try and control and use me for their own ends.”

  “Not everyone,” said Elizabeth, incredulously. “What about Paul?”

  The name of his former Chooser made him wince. The pain of Notus’ betrayal stabbed at the scar in his heart. He slowly nodded, squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to cut off the flow of tears. It tore his heart to count Notus among those who betrayed and used him.

  A vision popped to mind, causing him to gasp. Jeanie’s smiling face framed with riotous cinnamon curls accentuating the summer green of her eyes. “There was one,” he whispered. “She’s dead, because of me.”

  He felt warm hands on his arms turn him around and he opened his eyes to take in Elizabeth’s dishevelled robed appearance. He was surprised to find sadness darkening her bright blue eyes.

  “You can’t take on the responsibility of someone else’s death,” stated Elizabeth. “I know. Between my parents when I was a child, my grandfather in my early twenties and my ex-husband to AIDS. I know something about this.”

  He knew she was trying to help, but natural loss was not the same as violent loss. He shook his head and stared into her eyes. “Jeanie was strong, but I wasn’t strong enough to save her. She was murdered because of me, because of who and what I am, and because I believed her safe. I was wrong.” He dropped his gaze past Elizabeth’s shoulder to the mess of the counter as memories surged forward. “She saved me but I couldn’t save her,” he murmured.

  “Saved you?”

  Elizabeth’s query brought his attention back to her, panic rising at the memories. “I– I can’t.�
� He tried to turn away, to flee.

  “Does it have anything to do with your scars?” Elizabeth’s hand alighted over his as he went to turn the doorknob.

  He turned back, shocked, to face Elizabeth, reading sympathy and concern in her face. He went to sit on the edge of the bathtub and closed his eyes, lowering his head. She had seen and felt the scars on his flesh. It was more than anyone else had done save Notus and Bridget, but they did not count, they had done so to help them heal. A lovers hand had never touched them before save one – Jeanie.

  “Yes,” he whispered his voice rough with suppressed emotion. “Throughout my life it was as I told you, but I was always able to escape before the worst could happen. But not that time. Not with Jeanie.” He did not know why he was telling Elizabeth, but he could not stop the words from falling out. He heard her sit beside him. “I was led into a trap arranged by a so called friend of Jeanie’s. We didn’t know it was her until it was too late. Jeanie was captured and I was forced to give myself over or watch Jeanie killed. I submitted.”

  He felt Elizabeth’s hand on his shoulder and he flinched. “No, don’t,” the words rushed out. Sitting upright, he stared at her shocked expression as she removed her touch. He bore his gaze into hers. “I was tortured because I wouldn’t turn my heart from Jeanie. I couldn’t even had I wanted to. I don’t know how many days I was in that dungeon.” He lowered his eyes as shame burned through. “In the end I lied – anything to stop the pain. I don’t believe she believed me but she left me alone. Maybe she thought I was dead. I don’t recall.

  “Some time after – a week or more, I’m not sure – I woke somewhere else. Jeanie was there. She had managed to escape and come back for me. When I confronted those responsible for setting the trap I had thought Jeanie was safe where I had left her. I was supposed to meet her after. We had made plans to spend our lives together. I should have never brought her along but I didn’t want her to be in danger, but she was, because she was with me.

  “I found Jeanie dead beneath a street lamp.” He took a shuddering breath.

  Silence crowded the room and he knew Elizabeth was at a loss for words. Standing up, he gazed down on her disconcerted expression. Elizabeth was not pretty like Jeanie, but there was a regal beauty about her that was quite alluring. It was also strangely comforting that she never flinched when their gazes touched, as they did now.

  “I’m so sorry for all you have gone through.” She stood, but it was her words that made him step back in surprise. “There is no way for me to truly comprehend what you have been through.” A half smile lifted her sad expression but did not banish it.

  Crimson eyes wide, he could not believe the truth of her sympathy and shame crashed in once again. “I should not have taken it out on you.”

  Elizabeth stepped forward, a true smile lifting her features, until she was but an inch away. He could feel her warmth penetrating his skin.

  “Could’ve, would’ve, should’ve,” she said. “There powerful words that bind one to regret and sadness. I don’t regret what happened, Gwyn. In fact,” a mischievous spark alighted her eyes, “sex with you has been the best I’ve ever had.”

  Her admission stunned him and stole the remorse he held, replacing it with a rising heat. He closed his mouth and swallowed, unable to speak. No one had ever said the like to him before. Dumbfounded, all he could do was watch Elizabeth carefully roll the tensor bandage. When she turned back to wrap it around his aching ribs he could not but notice her soft touch nor the caresses of her terrycloth covered arms. Heat flowed downwards until he was distinctly aware of the towel and the robe between them.

  Elizabeth secured the tensor with two plastic clasps and noticed the difference in how the towel draped over him. “It’s nice to know that even at my age I can still affect a young man,” she smiled.

  “I’m older than you think,” he blurted. He wished that parts of his body would not react so to her. She lifted a slim brown brow and he regretted the utterance. Even though he was a millennium and half older he had no doubt that she discounted his statement. No matter their chronological ages he appeared more of an age with her daughter.

  Elizabeth sighed and shook her head, sending short locks swinging. “I don’t care about age. I was twenty when I had Vee, twenty-one when I married her father and twenty-four when he came out of the closet and we divorced. Numbers mean nothing. Experience is everything. It wasn’t your youth that drew me to you and nor was it the fact that I find you incredibly attractive. It’s because despite what you’ve experienced you are an old soul with a good heart.”

  The touch of her palm over his heart burned him as her words warmed and confounded him. He did not know what to say and felt a fool with his mouth hanging open.

  “It is why I told you no strings,” said Elizabeth, taking her hand back. “And I’ll say it again if need be. You do not owe me anything. I don’t expect a relationship other than friendship unless you desire more, and after what you told me I’ll be happy to take whatever you offer.”

  Gooseflesh flared across his cool skin and he frowned, confused. Breaking his gaze he realized Elizabeth was the first person not to place expectations, requirements or honour bound duties upon him. She was demanding nothing from him and was accepting of whatever he could give. This was unprecedented. Meeting her sadly smiling face he shook his head. “I...I don’t know what to say.”

  She took his injured hand in hers. “There’s nothing to say. Just be.”

  He huffed out a pent up breath and looked at her with the expectation of deceit and received only open honesty, confusing him further. He needed to think, to digest the full implications of what Elizabeth had said despite the fatigue he finally allowed himself to feel. Turning away, he opened the door and halted when she did not release his hand.

  “You may want to sleep in something, pyjamas, whatever. Vee has a friend sleeping over,” warned Elizabeth.

  He nodded his appreciation as her hand slipped from his, allowing him to retreat to the guest room, questions and confusion muddling his mind.

  Elizabeth watched him leave the room before she stumbled, catching herself as she grasped the counter in an effort to make the washroom cease to spin. She recognized the sensation and was surprised that it hit without being in Circle with her coven. Then again, she realized, she had not experienced it as she should have. She placed her other hand on her forehead and the room snapped back into reality, causing her to gasp.

  You have done well, my daughter, came the chorus of female voices.

  Elizabeth knew the sound was inaudible regardless of how it reverberated in her skull, but the reality of whom she heard stole the strength from her legs, forcing her to sit on the closed toilette seat, head in hands. She blew out a shaking breath and grounded and centred herself. Never before had she heard or felt Her presence so strongly before. Then it hit her – everything that had happened this morning had been with Her presence upon Elizabeth. It explained so much, but left incalculable questions racing through her mind. Elizabeth lifted her head and stared out the door her guest had disappeared through moments earlier, the all-prevailing question overriding the others.

  Who are you?

  No answer replied.

  With a shaking inhalation Elizabeth sat back, resting against the tank.

  Ever since he had come into her home she felt inexorably drawn to him. She had not lied when she told him that he had been the best sex she had ever had. Never before had she climaxed through penetration alone. The intensity of those waves of pleasure had been greater than what she could give herself. Even now her body thrummed with desire to be taken by him again while her heart wanted nothing more than to save him from more pain and brutality.

  Tears flowing down her face Elizabeth realized that she cared deeply for him as her body craved him and for the first time in her life she knew what it was to truly love a man.

  The chorus of female voices resonated through the room, We have chosen well.

  Chapter
XXXII

  He floated between the realms of sleep and the lands of wakefulness as he watched the familiar nightmare blossom the stabbing pain in his side. In alert detachment the fear did not startle him into consciousness as it usually did. Instead he witnessed Jeanie’s feasting with a sense of fatalism. A part of his mind rationally recognized the impossibility of such an event, but his heart still ached.

  The pain in his side turned into a burning and he looked down to see Geraint’s sword impaling him through the abdomen. He knew he should be alarmed at the black snake serpentine up his chest and down his torso but he only had eyes for the black grip, silver pommel and battered guard. Despite the burning weakness he could only smile – it was his father’s sword! He had once had a father and a sister!

  Darkness crashed down, obscuring the view of the hilt. Jeanie was nowhere to be seen.

  “He abandoned you,” floated a voice behind his right ear. He recognized the creature and grew angry. “He left you to die.”

  Denial shook his head, sending white locks floating in the Void.

  “Why do you deny it?” The voice slid to the other ear.

  He frowned, turning his head away from the voice made of dry leaves. The question echoed unbearably through his soul. Why did he deny the fact that Geraint had left him for dead an never claimed him when he found his son was still alive? Why the pretext of being a teacher of the warrior arts and not be the father he should have been to a boy desperately in need of one?