Night Whispers: ShadowLands, Book 1

by Alisha Rai

  She grumbled, “At least call out a warning. It’s common decency, man.”

  “I apologize. I had decency beaten out of me long ago.”

  There it went again, her heart clenching. She was too damn much of a softie. “I need to talk to you. I’ll wait for you in the living room.”

  She didn’t realize he had followed her until she turned and found him standing there with nothing but a towel wrapped around his hips.

  She wasn’t interested in him like that, that was for sure, but she’d have to be dead not to take a quick peek at all that naturally tanned skin stretched over bulging muscles.

  Not too long ago, he’d made all the women at Sanctuary sigh. The changes in him might put some of those women off, but there would still be a good number of them who’d probably trip over themselves to comfort the poor, wounded soldier. His new look of tanned skin, white hair and silver eyes was compelling. He came to stand right in front of her, and she realized that she shouldn’t have sat. It put her at eye level with where his fist knotted the towel at his waist. Flushing, she jumped to her feet.

  He studied her hair in silence for a moment. She waited for him to exclaim something.

  “How do you feel?”

  Not what she’d expected. “I know men don’t notice a lot of appearance changes, but I’m guessing you can see that I look like a tie-dyed skunk.”

  “It’s not so bad. Rather striking, really.”

  “Are you shitting me?” She tugged at her hair. “What does this mean? For that matter, what does it mean that I can see in the dark?”

  No shock or surprise was forthcoming at that announcement. Had she imagined that brief moment of emotion when he’d found her covered by the Shadow? His tenderness in washing the blood off her? Erik was back to his distant, shut-down self. “Can you now?”

  “Yes.” His calm acceptance rubbed her the wrong way, as if he had been prepared for her to wake up…changed. “Why aren’t you more surprised than this?”

  “I believe the changes started yesterday. It was full dark last night when we came to the house, yet you appeared to be able to see everything.”

  Jules groaned. Now that he mentioned it, it was glaringly obvious. Neither of them had been carrying a flashlight, yet Carrie, Erik and her surroundings had been visible.

  She’d been sick. That excused her thickness, right?

  He nodded at her hair. “Plus your hair had already turned.”

  Realization dawned. “You jerk. You could see me when you were bathing me, couldn’t you?”

  “I told you, I wasn’t looking.” His lips twisted. “You have nothing to fear. I haven’t felt sexual desire in a long time.”

  “But your night vision is like mine.”

  “Yes. Like the Shadows. It comes along with the loss of pigment in the pupil.”

  “Why haven’t my eyes changed color?”

  That gave him pause. “I don’t know,” he said slowly. “Though I believe they were trying very hard to isolate the part of the virus that changed humans physiologically from the part that changes humans mentally and physically. Perhaps…perhaps they succeeded in doing something right with you, though your hair was not spared. Or maybe you will lose the pigment later.”

  “I could change more? Later?”

  “You could change in ten years. I don’t know if you’ve been hearing me this whole time. Who. Knows.”

  That was a really scary thought. She would never know what she was. Or who she was. Or how much more of her humanity would be lost.

  Fucking scientists.

  “Perhaps your eyes are as photosensitive as mine are.”

  “I’ll go outside later.” She could go now. But she didn’t know if she could process the loss of daylight this very moment. “It’s cloudy anyway.”

  “I wonder what other abilities you share with me,” he mused. “Do you feel stronger? Faster? Hungry for some type A?”

  “You’re gross. No. To all three.”

  “Hmm. Not yet, anyway.” Erik shook his head. “Still so eager to return to your beloved Compound? Not knowing what you are or what you could be? Your future, your body, is as uncertain as mine now, Jules.”

  God, he was persuasive. A wiggle of doubt crept into her fantasy that everything would be okay once James came. She had prepared herself for the possibility of her death or her survival, and like a stupid child, hadn’t considered the ramifications in the off chance something in between could occur.

  Well, she was crossing that fucking bridge now, and it wasn’t pretty.

  James not liking her anymore or abandoning her didn’t scare her. People leaving was something she was used to. It was the scenario in her dream that really terrified her. If he was as honorable as she figured he was, he would be compelled to stand by the side of the new Jules.

  She didn’t even know anything about the new her. She wasn’t human. But she wasn’t like Erik either. As of right now, all she could do was see in the dark, a parlor trick that would probably make James’s geeky heart go pitter pat.

  What if in five years she started craving blood?

  What if in ten years she turned Shadow?

  What if she hurt James?

  “…like you’re going to be sick.”

  “What?”

  His hand grasped her elbow. “Do you need to throw up?”

  She shook her head. “No. No.”

  “Are you hungry?”

  Her stomach was too uneasy to eat, but she knew she’d have to eventually put some food into it. “Not particularly.”

  “Are you sure you aren’t craving human blood?”

  “Quit asking me that!”

  “I am making sure, is all.”

  Her head hurt. “How are you? Do you feel…? Did you…?” She mimed eating.

  “Eat? Yes. I had a…bite.”

  She wondered what animal he had gnawed on. He turned and walked away from her. One thing was for sure, even if the mystery potion she’d been given gave her super strength, she’d never have shoulders quite as broad as his.

  Nor would she have ever been beaten quite as bad as him. With the dirt washed off, the mess of silver lines crisscrossing his back was more obvious. He wouldn’t want her pity, so she stamped it down.

  Erik picked something up from the crowded bookshelf and walked back. His hand was cupped when he extended it to her. “For the sake of our former friendship, I would be much happier if you could tell me what this is. That friendship is the only reason I haven’t already killed you.”

  He opened his hand. Inside his palm, looking very small and crushed, were the mangled remains of her earpiece.

  So that’s where it had gone.

  Sorrow hit her anew at the sight of that last, severed connection to James. She glanced up to find Erik’s hard silver gaze upon her. Most definitely, all the kindness of the night before was gone. “It’s not what you think.”

  “A bug. A transponder of some kind?”

  She shook her head. “No. I swear. It’s an auditory earpiece. It allowed me to hear what…someone…at Raven was saying. They had left the connection open.”

  “This is why you acted so strangely in the car?”

  “Yes.”

  “This someone…is it this James?”

  She blinked at him. “What do you know about James?”

  “You called out to him while you were asleep. A great deal.”

  “James is…” He was everything. A tide of emotion welled. “He’s my contact at headquarters. Out in Pennsylvania.”

  “Your lover?”

  “We’ve never even met.”

  “But you’d like to.”

  “Wouldn’t you like to meet someone you’ve only spoken with remotely?” she asked evasively.

  “Perhaps. But I wouldn’t call out the name of a coworker while I was near death.”

  His probing gaze was too much to avoid. “Fine! Yes. We have a…a flirtation.”

  “Of course you do.”

  “Wha
t is that supposed to mean?”

  “It’s easy to have a long-distance romance with a man you’ve never met, isn’t it? I bet you think he’s a wonderful man who is worried out of his mind for you. Who thinks of you as often as you think of him.”

  Each disdainful word scraped along her soul like he was pricking at an exposed nerve. She was already partially grieving for the man, damn it. Because even if he hadn’t died trying to get to her, even if he found her, she knew a happily ever after wasn’t likely, whether or not she was some hybrid creature.

  “You know nothing about him or me. So I’ll thank you to shut your mouth.” She took a step away. The back of her legs hit the couch. “I don’t know what your problem is. I get that you have a chip on your shoulder, and I understand why it’s there. But that’s no reason to take it out on me.”

  He pinched her chin between his thumb and forefinger. The move didn’t hurt, but at the same time, she wasn’t getting away unless he wished it. “Is he going to come here?”

  “I don’t know,” she answered honestly.

  His face was impassive, but if she had wanted to provoke some emotion in him, she knew she had managed it. The anger pulsed off him. “What did you hear him say through this device?”

  Like she’d tell him that. She wasn’t exactly scared of her old friend right now, but she’d never been a stupid person.

  “I—”

  His nostrils flared. “Shh.”

  She raised an eyebrow at him. “You probably don’t remember how much I hate being shushed.”

  He grabbed her by the arm and pivoted, facing the door, his body like an animal that had caught scent of prey. “You lying bitch. Someone’s here. I can smell them.”

  Having learned his lesson at the business end of Ben’s shotgun, this time when James came across the isolated farmhouse, he armed himself before stopping the car well away from the home. He opened his car door, if not fearlessly, at least without hesitation now. Ben had done him a favor busting out his window, and Jules’s paper trail had finished the job. The feel of air on his skin wasn’t quite so alien anymore.

  Setting out on foot, he tried to be as quiet as possible as he moved across the overgrown grassy field. The sun was hidden behind clouds, giving him some extra cover.

  He crouched down in the grass and peered at the house. All of the curtains were closed tight except one in a downstairs window. No lights shone from that window, though he supposed that meant little.

  He knew he could very well be wasting his time and facing the ire of yet another hermit homeowner. The last piece of torn-up book he’d found had been well over four miles from here. Still, the back of his neck was tingling like it used to when he received that last crucial piece of intel, solving the puzzle. He rose from his crouch but remained hunched, his hand sweating around the gun.

  He moved through the brush until he could get to the open yard of the home itself. What he saw thrilled him. There, under the slight gap between the curtains of one of the windows, was the glow of light. A lantern or a candle, perhaps.

  Calm down. It could be someone other than Jules.

  There were, after all, so many variables that he hadn’t been able to account for. So many alternate situations which could have cropped up, leading Jules down a different road or path. So he really shouldn’t be optimistic.

  He couldn’t quite quell the spurt of hope as he crept to the front door. He was debating between knocking or trying the handle when the door exploded open, slamming into his face.

  The blow caught him off guard, and he staggered backward. “Wait,” he gasped, before the weight of a freight train pushed into him.

  A strong hand grasped his wrist and slammed his gun hand down. His fingers screamed at him to loosen around the metal, but he wasn’t about to give up his sole advantage. Adrenaline coursed through him, and he fell back on instinct and basic hand-to-hand combat.

  His formal life-long training in karate? Useless. This called for the good old street fighting he’d picked up from the simulations he’d run alongside his agents. Here was his chance to show what he’d learned. His brain raced through the various positions and moves.

  He was in an unfortunate position on his back, which limited his ability to fight. There were only a certain number of things he could do.

  Objective: Until he figured out who this person was, he only wanted to disarm, not seriously injure.

  He raised his head off the ground and slammed it into the face above him. The other man reeled, more surprised than hurt. James took advantage of the space, planted one foot on the guy’s hip, wiggled back and shoved his knee up, catching the man in his groin.

  His naked groin.

  James had never been kicked in the nuts, but he imagined it was doubly painful when there were no layers of clothes to separate the flesh from impact. The man recoiled and rolled away, clutching his abused privates.

  Wasting no time, James got to his feet and pointed the gun in his numb hand at the guy curled into a ball in the dirt. The soft blue of the dawn sky gave him enough light to see that the blond man was seriously jacked. And completely nude, with the exception of a dull, primitive-looking collar around his neck.

  The guy recovered quickly. He dropped his hands away from his privates and rolled to sit on his ass. His head came up, and James was fixed with a pair of light, light eyes.

  Too light. And that hair wasn’t blond, it was white. Shadow.

  Yet the man’s skin was too dark for that, wasn’t it?

  James’s finger tightened on the trigger. His common sense told him to pull it, yet the coloring was odd enough that he had to hesitate.

  “Drop the gun. Or I’ll shoot.”

  Another person. How could he have turned his back on the house—?

  The voice penetrated his brain, and he froze. That voice. The husky, feminine voice that he heard even in his dreams. The voice that normally came through complex machinery and not through standard audio waves.

  “Jules,” he breathed.

  There was silence behind him, and then finally a thin whisper of sound, like a small sob. “James?”

  He knew he shouldn’t turn away from the guy on the ground, but he couldn’t stop from craning his neck around to find the woman standing in the shadows of the porch. Her whiskey-colored eyes met his.

  If a train had rammed into his stomach, he wouldn’t feel more poleaxed. He’d been waiting for this moment, not just for a couple of days or a couple of years, but for his whole entire life. He’d been lost in the dark until now.

  Those pretty eyes narrowed and shifted past him, and the aim of her gun changed. “Don’t you take another step closer, cuate. This one’s mine.”

  He glanced back to the man to find him on his feet, seemingly recovered. James knew he should be wildly intimidated, since the stranger looked large enough to break him in two, but his mind still couldn’t quite wrap around the fact that Jules had called him hers.

  The man with the strange coloring sneered at him but spoke to Jules. “I’ll be damned if I’m going to get locked up again, woman. I’ll kill him first. Let his death be on your conscience.”

  James cocked his head. The Shadow who was not a Shadow could talk. Of course he could. “I don’t want you, locked up or otherwise. I came for her.”

  “Is that right?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Lay one hand on him and I’ll make you regret it. You said you owed a debt to me. I’m collecting,” Jules said.

  “You already collected when I saved your life.”

  “I feel remarkably out of the loop here. Who is this freak?” James asked, impatience brimming. The guy didn’t act like her jailor or her kidnapper, but there was enough tension between them that he knew they weren’t willing cohorts in this plan to run off to Saskatchewan.

  Damn it, this was not how he’d pictured events unfolding. The man was interfering with his reunion with Jules. They were supposed to be running slow motion into each other’s arms rig
ht now. There was even a field right over there that would be perfect for slow-motion-run purposes.

  Jules and the stranger were locked in a staring contest, which the other man broke with a sound of disgust. “Yes, Jules. You can explain all about the freak.” His lips twisted. “And perhaps you might get around to telling him about me too.”

  Her lips firmed. “Go inside, or I swear to God I will shoot you just to shut you up.”

  “After all you did to save my life? I’m hurt, Jules.”

  The sharp crack of the gun echoed in the clearing. The three of them stared at the depression the bullet had made in the ground not one inch from the stranger’s naked foot.

  Jules and the other man looked at him and his smoking handgun. “You will listen to her,” James said softly.

  “Fast draw.” The stranger bit off the words.

  “My family was career military. I know how to handle a gun.”

  “I could disarm you in a minute, fool,” the man seethed.

  “And I would drop you in the next,” Jules responded calmly.

  He knew there were more important undercurrents going on here, but it was kind of sexy how he and Jules were working together. The guns increased the sexiness angle, of course.

  The freak growled. “Fine. Whatever.” He stalked past James. More than anything, James didn’t want to look into those pitiless, pigmentless eyes, but since his manhood was at stake, he wouldn’t be the one to break the stare. “Debt or no debt to your woman…I can and will destroy you should you even look at me cross-eyed.”

  The daredevil inside of him, the one that had sustained him on a perilous trek across two countries, urged him to cross his eyes at the man. But something, perhaps the reality that the guy’s biceps were about as thick as James’s neck, kept him from doing something so foolish.

  He didn’t like that the dangerous creature walked so close to Jules in order to go inside. His hand tightened on his gun. “Jules. Step away from him.”

  “It’s okay,” she said, her voice tired. “I know he can be as annoying as heck, but he’s not the bad guy.”

  His ego flinched from the fact that she was defending another man from him, but he lowered the gun. The man went inside and closed the door.