Chasing Shadows (A Shadow Chronicles Novel)

by Christina Moore

  I colored with embarrassment and looked away from her, but I knew she was right. Just at the suggestion I found myself lusting for the feel of my skin against his, the touch of his hands on me, and I had to shake my head forcefully to dispel the thoughts before they gained too strong a foothold. From the pitch of his breathing, I could tell Mark was having the same difficulties I was, so I restrained myself from looking at him and making it worse.

  Juliette, for her part, had sat back in her chair with her arms crossed, a smug, satisfied smile on her face.

  Mark cleared his throat. “You said…you said earlier that shapeshifters also pair-bond,” he said. “Tell me about that. Did Mom bond with Dad?”

  I turned my attention back to Mark’s sister, curious about this myself. Before when she had spoken of her mother and father getting together, she had said that Daniel Singleton’s gratitude for Monica’s help had turned into love, but she hadn’t said anything about her mother’s feelings for him. Only that she had wanted to protect Mark.

  I was surprised to see her expression falter. “Mom’s never said so,” she admitted after a long moment. “But I have to believe she did, otherwise why would she have stayed with him this long?”

  “Maybe because she loves him?” I suggested gently.

  “But if my mother didn’t actually imprint on my father, then there’s a chance that she could be forced to leave him, and that would kill Daddy!” Juliette exclaimed, jumping out of her chair.

  Mark stepped back over to the table. “Jules, calm down. We’re speculating at best—let’s not jump to conclusions, okay? Maybe Mom did imprint on Dad, but she doesn’t talk about it because it’s personal. Maybe she wants to keep those special memories to herself. Think about it: would you want to discuss your most intimate moments with your kid?”

  “It’s not like I’d want the details!” she said hotly. “I’d just hate it if she ever had to hurt Daddy by leaving him. He’s already lost one wife—can you imagine how heartbroken he would be if he had to give up another one?”

  “Have you imprinted, Juliette?” I asked, hoping to shift the topic to more even ground.

  She shook her head as she returned to her chair. “Nah. Couldn’t have been a dog for most of the last year if I had, because the person you imprint on becomes the focus of your life. I’d like to, of course. Every shifter wants to imprint—it would make dating so much simpler.”

  I laughed a little when she said that, and then placed my hands on the table and stood. “Look, I think that maybe we shouldn’t worry too much about all the ‘what ifs,’” I said slowly. “Certainly we won’t be any less vigilant than we’ve always been, but if I have learned anything in the last two hundred-plus years, it’s that a life spent constantly looking over your shoulder is no life at all.”

  “I second that,” Mark said with a smile, leaning over to kiss my cheek. “I’m glad I know what happened to the woman who gave birth to me, and I’m glad to know that there’s an explanation for this Wolverine Syndrome that I have. I’m glad that I finally met the one person who is perfect for me—it still sounds a little crazy, but I can feel the truth of that down to my bones. And I’m glad that I’m no longer in the dark about all this supernatural stuff, too. Having to live with the fact that some of the storybook monsters are real is better than not knowing they exist.”

  Juliette offered her brother a smile. “And I am glad that you finally know the truth, too, Mark. I’ve always hated having to keep this from you, and it feels so good to be able to share it with you now.”

  “Speaking of burdens,” I broke in. “Mark and I have work to do getting the animals in and settled for the night. Plus I need to fix the door.”

  “And while the two of you are doing that, I’ll be moving Mark’s stuff over here to your little love nest,” Juliette said blithely.

  She was up and on her way through the screen door before either Mark or I had a chance to respond. We could only look at each other and laugh, and there was nothing to do but shake our heads and follow.

  Back to Top

  Seven

  First thing Mark and I did was go into the barn make sure the water troughs were full in each stall. As we worked, he asked me questions about vampires, wanting to know which of the myths he’d read about in my books were real and which weren’t. Once again I told him that most of the biological information I had included in the Everland stories was true; only the allergy to sunlight was false. He found the truth (which I’d not included in the books) that daylight hours made a vampire tired enough to fall into a coma-like state very amusing.

  Mark asked if vampires really had fangs, to which I answered yes. I told him that the transformation from human to vampire lengthened the root of the eyeteeth—more commonly known as upper canines—and that when a vampire’s system became flooded with adrenaline, such as a prelude to violence or when sexually aroused, the canines pushed down through the jaw, giving the appearance of fangs growing. Vampires could also consciously extend their canines; when they were hungry this aided them in feeding because biting with blunt teeth, as any human with cause to bite a person could attest, caused skin to tear and made quite a mess of things. Fangs allowed a vampire to pierce the skin without having to bite down too hard, especially if they were sharpened—which most vampires tended to do. I admitted that mine had dropped earlier when we’d made love but that I’d forced them to retract for fear of freaking him out, to which he confessed that he had been so focused on getting me into bed that it probably wouldn’t have mattered if he’d seen them. He also told me that I should never be afraid to show or tell him anything about me, so I popped my fangs down and smiled, letting him get a good, long look before pulling them up again.

  When I told him that the myths about vampires having no reflection in mirrors and the rumored inability to be captured on film were both complete fabrications, he admitted that he’d always thought those two particular myths were a bit ridiculous. He then asked me if vampires had any “freaky” abilities like flying, telepathy, or the ability to control animals. I said that no vampire could actually fly, but that they could jump very high and very far with a single leap, making it appear as though they were in flight. I also told him that such preternatural gifts as telepathy and communion with animals, although rare, were possible. Not every vampire developed a special ability, and while I did not technically have one, my ability to sense the presence of other supernatural beings could be considered one. When he asked if the supe-sense was unique to me or if all hybrids had the ability, I told him that while I had also never met another of my species it was supposedly a common trait among dhampyr.

  I shooed the birds inside for the night as Mark wrangled the pigs indoors, then we turned for the pastures. He spoke kindly to Herugrim as we approached the horses when the stallion acted nervous at the sight of him, and I was reminded of how very lucky my new bondmate was to be what he was. Had he been fully human, I knew, he could very well have been trampled to death. The thought frightened me and I shivered.

  When all the animals were inside and brushed down, Mark asked if I had any spare lumber anywhere so he could fix the door.

  “I don’t like the thought of leaving it until tomorrow,” he said, “and Carter’s would be closed by now.”

  I was in full agreement, and took him up to the unconverted side of the hayloft, where I kept bales of hay and fencing materials for spot repairs on my pasture fences. There he found what he needed, including a hand saw and a cordless drill, and we carried the items back down to the house. Juliette was just coming out of the tack room with a bundle of sheets in her arms.

  “What is that?” I asked as the three of us walked into the house.

  She glanced at me with a sour expression. “Surely you don’t expect me to sleep on sheets my brother had sex on, do you? I even flipped the mattress,” she replied, shuddering as if disgusted.

  Mark laughed and I felt my cheeks flush yet again. But I smiled as well, because I suddenly realiz
ed that my bonding hadn’t just given me an amazing sex life to look forward to, but a family life as well. I had gained another sister in Juliette, one that I actually liked and got along with, and I would quite possibly have surrogate parents in Daniel and Monica Singleton—at the very least, they would hopefully be friends for as long as Mark and I could remain in their lives.

  While Mark worked on fixing the doorframe I set about making dinner, putting pork chops in the oven to bake. As I was mixing vegetables and lettuce for a salad, my mind drifted again, and I couldn’t help thinking that Mark was right—it all seemed a little crazy. Technically we had only known each other for a day, yet we had already made love three times and he was moving in with me. I realized, though, that I didn’t feel like we were jumping the shark—it simply felt right that he would be living in my house and sleeping next to me in my bed. I couldn’t wait to fall asleep wrapped in his arms every night or to wake up next to him every morning. I looked forward to building a life with this man I barely knew and for the first time I could recall, I welcomed the unknown future with open arms.

  The only thing that put a damper on my happy mood was the thought of children—I did not know yet if I could have them, let alone whether or not Mark even wanted them. Arthur and I had made love numerous times, naturally, during the four years that we were married, and since we were husband and wife we did not once use any kind of birth control. But I never got pregnant, and even though I knew it sometimes took years for a woman to conceive, I had considered the possibility that the rumors of hybrid infertility were true. And when I remembered that vampire males could still conceive children (albeit only with mortal females), I had also wondered if perhaps I would have to mate with a vampire in order to have children of my own.

  With effort, I pushed all thoughts of children aside and finished preparing the food. Mark was finished with his task before I was with mine, and spent the rest of that time carrying his clothes upstairs to my—our—bedroom, or moving the boxes aside in the living room to be dealt with tomorrow, when we had time to discuss the sharing of space. Juliette, of course, had asked me where the washing machine was so that she could clean the bedclothes she’d carried over from the apartment.

  The three of us sat down together to a simple meal, and of course the topic of conversation was centered on the supernatural. Now that Mark knew all about vampires, he wanted to know all about shapeshifters, and he fired question after question at his sister. Since it appeared that shifters were likely to be a part of my life from now on, I was also curious to know more about them, and listened eagerly for her answers. She told him all of the histories she had learned after she had phased for the first time, and explained that the rule of secrecy was for the protection of both shifters and humans. If humanity found out that shapeshifters were real, they would most likely react with fear by harming or killing, or would want to capture them and conduct genetic experiments. Shifters would, in turn, want to visit upon those particular humans the same unjust treatment, and there was a chance that both sides would eventually annihilate the other.

  The same was true, I told them, of vampires. My father’s people did not want to be hunted or persecuted as had been done in the past, which was why anyone who learned the truth had to become one of them or die.

  “And if you think about it,” Juliette went on, “some people just aren’t capable of handling the truth that some monsters are real. There are rumors that humans have been driven mad upon learning their neighbors could become animals.”

  “That’s why Mom’s afraid to tell Dad the truth?” Mark asked quietly.

  Juliette nodded. “Partly. But like I said, she also thinks that he’s already been through enough. Because he’s her husband she’s allowed to tell him, but she told me it was a burden she didn’t think it would be fair to put on him. Not after losing your mother the way he did.”

  I looked at Mark then. “You know, your sister is right about one thing,” I said.

  “What’s that?” he asked.

  “You are being unbelievably rational about all of this. I was planning to tell you the truth about me, about what you are, when I felt the time was right because I didn’t want there to be any secrets between us. To be honest, I was expecting to have a hard time convincing you,” I explained. “I was afraid you wouldn’t believe me, that you’d think I was crazy.”

  “That’s what Mom and I were afraid of,” Juliette put in, “that you weren’t going to believe us. Of course, simply showing you what we can do would have done the trick, but then there was always the chance that you’d freak and try to kill us. You are a Marine, and Marines are trained in the dark art of killing, as you so kindly pointed out before.”

  Mark sighed and put the fork he had just raised back down on his plate. “It is all very incredible, the kind of stuff that probably would make the average person think you were fuckin’ crazy—pardon my bad English—or think that he himself was going crazy. And I can’t say that if it weren’t for the fact that I already knew I wasn’t normal I’d be having as easy a time of it.

  “But I did already know I’m not normal. Never getting sick wasn’t so much an indicator as breaking my arm and having it heal perfectly within an hour. Or cutting myself numerous times and having them heal almost instantly. Or my surviving having shrapnel from an IED slice through a vein that should have bled me dry and dead in minutes. I dunno, maybe my Wolverine Syndrome is the real reason I joined the Marines—maybe I was purposely pushing the envelope, seeing just how far I could go.”

  He paused and looked between us. “I had some unexplainable feelings yesterday when I met Saphrona, feelings that made me more determined to get to know her than I’ve ever wanted to get to know any other woman. I got trampled by a horse this afternoon and now you can’t even tell he touched me. Then there’s the fact that I saw my little sister turn into a dog—twice. Even a thick-skulled jarhead like me can’t deny the truth when it’s as plain as the nose on his face.”

  Juliette looked a little incredulous. “You actually felt the pair-bond before you guys…you know?”

  “I must have,” he replied. “I just knew the moment I set eyes on her that I had to do whatever it took to make her mine. I knew I would wait for however long it took to convince her to be with me.”

  Mark took my hand as he said the last part, the look in his eyes warm and full of emotion. I smiled and allowed all my feelings for him to fill my own expression, and for just a moment I was mildly disappointed that Juliette was sitting there. The late husband I had gotten emotional over earlier may have made the table we were eating on, but I didn’t think Arthur would mind too much my making love on it with another man—I had known him long enough to know that he would have wanted me to be happy, to find love again.

  Besides, I thought bemusedly, Arthur and I had already christened it.

  “Why does that surprise you?” Mark was saying, bringing my attention back to the conversation at hand.

  Juliette shrugged. “I know you’re a dhunphyr and all, but I figured that except for the healing factor and possible immortality you were just as human as any other. When a shifter imprints, the human doesn’t feel anything out of the ordinary, only we do.”

  “Do shifters imprint on other shifters?”

  She nodded her head. “Yeah, but it hasn’t happened in a very long time; we don’t know why, really, and it’s been over three hundred years since the last time it did,” she said. “We don’t imprint on vampires, either. We used to think it was because they really were dead. Saphrona has shown us different.”

  Mark and I exchanged a glance. “How have I done that?” I asked when I looked back at our companion.

  “For one thing, you exist. Shifters have known about dhampyr for ages, of course, but shifters have never been certain whether or not your kind constituted a living being. A dhampyr in our midst may actually be a good thing—we can learn so much from you. You’re living proof that our opinions about vampires have to change. I mean,
vampires’ hearts beat just a few times every hour, so few that it may as well not beat at all. But yours is almost normal…well, perhaps a little faster than average, from what I can hear,” Juliette said. “You’ve also confirmed that most of that biological stuff Vivian Drake wrote about vampires in the Everland series is true.”

  “Yeah, but you can’t go around telling people that I told you,” I said, realizing in that moment that I was going to have to tell them about Diarmid’s request.

  “Why not?” Mark wanted to know.

  I turned my eyes his way. “Because the vampire community is not happy with Vivian Drake as it is. She’s telling some of their most valued secrets in a medium the entire world has access to. The reason Evangeline was here yesterday was because my father wants me to find Vivian and find out who her source is—according to my sister, the source is considered the betrayer of vampire kind. Imagine how pissed they’d be if they found out another vampire was telling the local shifter population she’s telling the truth.”

  Mark’s eyes widened. “Saphrona, are you in danger?” he asked, his voice tight.

  Juliette looked between us. “He knows that you know Vivian? Are you her source?”

  She had asked me that last night, and although I had neither confirmed nor really denied the question, it was becoming clear to me that Juliette Singleton was no fool. I was going to have to tell her the whole truth.

  “I’m not just her source,” I said slowly. “I’m her.”

  “What?!” Juliette shouted.

  “Damn it, Saphrona!” Mark said in a voice that I knew immediately was filled with tightly controlled anger. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me they wanted you dead when you told me you were Vivian Drake?”

  “Because at that precise moment, I wasn’t thinking of the danger,” I said, rising from my chair. “And they don’t want me dead, they want Drake’s source dead.”