Lost in Shadow (A Shadow Walkers Ghost Novel)

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Lost in Shadow (A Shadow Walkers Ghost Novel) Page 6

by Cynthia Luhrs


  Colin, along with two hired hands, loaded the barrels in a hidden room in the Vaults. Giving a few bottles to the denizens of the Vaults kept them turning a blind eye to his activities. The bribe also helped ensure none would turn them in to the Customs officers. The other batch of whisky should already be loaded on a ship bound for London in the morning.

  “Milord, did ye hear that? Sounds like someone’s coming,” Angus looked around nervously. In an instant, all of them were surrounded by Redcoats.

  “Run lads, I’ll hold them off,” Colin yelled, pulling his sword, charging towards the blasted soldiers.

  An uppercut to the jaw brought him back to the present. Powerless to change the tableau in front of him; it always played out the same. Over and over, each year on the anniversary of his death.

  An image of clear gray eyes and the scent of peaches made him tense, looking around. He smelled Emily’s scent. He was shocked when she’d seen him at the Vaults, interacted with him when he hadn’t willed it. Like all Shadow Walkers, he had heard there was a way to break their curse…but never gave it much thought. Given up believing in the true love, soul mate bullshit a long, long time ago. Women were more mercenary then men ever thought to be. He’d met so many women over the years, enjoyed brief encounters though none of them had seen him without him willing it…until her.

  Could Emily, with her intoxicating scent that went straight to his balls, be the one mentioned in the curse…he wondered…might this year be different? If she was his soul mate and able to intervene, then everything had changed since they met at the Vaults.

  He didn’t want to be bound to this unknown woman, give her power over him. Wouldn’t give that power to any woman again, didn’t care if she failed and he became a wraith, doomed to the in-between. But hell, he wasn’t such a bastard he’d doom her to never finding true love and living the rest of her life alone.

  His head was going to explode thinking about this. Colin would never risk betrayal again. Gods, he hoped she’d go on her merry way, forget him. Leave him to his fate. He couldn’t be her soul mate. No matter a piece of him wanted to protect her, hold her close, tear apart any who threatened her. It couldn’t be. He would shut those feelings down.

  There was nothing for her, only loneliness and despair if she tried to help him.

  “I followed your orders, the friend, Kat, is leaving today, back to the states with a broken leg. So the other one is alone, easy for you to get to without interference.” Jackson told Rawlins.

  “You pushed her down the steps? What the hell were you thinking? I said get rid of her and that’s interpreted as push her down the steps—you didn’t even take her energy? We don’t need any bleeding hearts amongst our ranks.” With that, Rawlins ripped Jackson’s heart out with his serrated dagger as the newly turned Day Walker disintegrated into pale, gold dust. Wiping his hands on his gray Calvin Klein slacks, “Figures, you want something done right, you bloody well have to do it yourself. I’ll take care of Miss Emily Laurens.”

  He dematerialized out of the Day Walker realm back to Edinburgh.

  “Honey? I have something to tell you. I was going to wait until after the trip but since I’m going home today, I wanted to see your face…I’m pregnant!”

  Emily squealed. “Oh, that is such fantastic news! When are you due? Oh my gosh, are you OK with the fall and all?” Emily was thankful Kat was going home. Something odd was going on, and she didn’t want her to get hurt worse than the broken leg.

  Coming from a small family consisting of her and her brother, Emily always wanted a big, boisterous family of at least five or six kids. Sighing, she thought about how much she missed her parents. They’d been killed in a boating accident when she was in college, but all her earlier life they always knew the right thing to say to make her feel better. It was only Matt now, and while he tried to be there for her; he was a professional fisherman, always away. Emily tried not to worry but kept fearing he’d end up in a boating accident as well. She thought at twenty-eight her time was running out to find a suitable prospect. She’d better get a move-on or she’d be lucky to get married and have one kid let alone five or six. Pushing aside her fears and melancholy thoughts, feeling genuinely happy for Kat starting a family, Emily focused back in on the conversation with Kat.

  “So many questions! Let’s see, I’m only three months so you have plenty of time before the little one calls you Auntie Emily. We’re trying to decide if we want to know if it’s a boy or girl, and yes, I’m fine. The leg hurts like hell, but the baby is fine. Don’t worry.”

  Striding across the airport lounge, Monroe stopped in front of the two Americans. “Miss Laurens. Mrs. Chandler. It seems we meet again under rather unfortunate circumstances.” Kat had broken her leg, which normally wouldn’t have the police involved except Emily had called him, saying someone deliberately pushed her friend, even though neither her friend nor the witnesses had seen anything.

  Clearing her throat, Emily addressed the stern officer. “Officer MacDonald, I don’t want Kat to hear me but I know what I saw. I’m only telling you; I know no one else will believe me. You may not either.” She’d hesitated before calling him however, he seemed to be hiding secrets of his own, and she had a feeling he might be able to help her find out what was going on.

  “I’m not saying I don’t believe you, but you must accept it is rather difficult to believe a man pushed your friend down the steps then simply disappeared, wouldn’t you agree?” Monroe cocked his eyebrow, crossed his arms over his chest, and stared at her, waiting for her to speak like she was some dog who would jump at his command.

  “Yes, to anyone listening to our conversation, it would seem like I’ve knocked a few marbles loose. Do what you want with the information.” She turned to settle her friend in the wheelchair.

  “Have no fear, Miss Laurens, I will get to the bottom of this and apprehend those responsible. Don’t forget our agreement—stay out of the investigation.” Monroe shot Emily a hard look.

  “Thank you, Monroe. I feel safer already.” Emily knew she hadn’t answered him; there was no way in hell she’d stay out of this. Oh no, she was going to find Colin, so she smiled and told him what he wanted to hear. “Of course, I’ll stay out of it. Going to finish sightseeing then return home and forget all this unpleasantness.” She smiled up at him as she started wheeling Kat to her gate.

  Guilt washed over her as she thought about what happened to Kat. It was somehow her fault. Wiping her eyes, she tried not to cry.

  Kat had insisted the trip shouldn’t be ruined for both of them.

  Poor Kat. All the color had been washed from her face. She was wearing sweat pants, a ratty sweatshirt, her hair in a scrunchy, and no make-up. For Kat to look so awful, Emily knew she was in a lot of pain ‘cause the girl wore make-up to the grocery store. Best thing would be to get her back to Fred.

  When everything falls apart, we need the one we love, no one else will do.

  “Go, I’m fine. Please promise me you’ll enjoy yourself. For goodness sakes, the trip is paid for, so try and have some fun. I know how hard it will be without me, but you’ll survive. You have to finish finding out about Colin.” Kat’s eyes crinkled as she gave Emily a small smile.

  “I didn’t think you believed me.” Emily stopped to look at Kat.

  “Well, I’m still not sure what to believe, but that’s why I’m married to Fred and you’re running around Scotland after a ghost-but-not-ghost Highlander who fights English Redcoats while his portrait hangs on the wall in the Museum. That about sum it up, sweetie?” Kat reached up to hug Emily. “Be careful. You really don’t know anything about him; he could be some lunatic. You can’t rescue all the strays.”

  Smoothing Kat’s ratty ponytail, Emily grinned; remembering the first time she and Kat met. New in school, she showed up with a blue glitter backpack and saw Kat had purple glitter; they hit it off immediately.

  On the way home from school, she saw a filthy, ugly, dog following them, led the dog home,
washed him and demanded he stay. After the bath, the mongrel was still ugly but clean and smelled like some fruity shampoo. Emily named him Hal, short for Halloween. Her parents were used to her bringing home strays. They usually tried to find a home for the animals, otherwise they’d be living in a zoo. She remembered Kat telling her her parents were cool to let Emily bring home a stray dog. She’d even rescued a fallen owl, she named Hoot. The owl flew to school each day and waited for her.

  Kat grabbed her hand. “Don’t fuss; I’ll be waited on hand and foot. Heck, I’ll probably gain ten pounds by the time you get back. Please be careful. I’ll be worried every day until you come home. Emily—a stray dog is one thing, a stray man is a whole ‘nother ballgame, sweetie.” Emily kissed Kat goodbye and watched as she was wheeled away.

  Chapter 7

  Meandering along the Royal Mile, Emily saw a shop advertising hand-woven apparel. Browsing the racks, she found a fantastic royal purple, turquoise, pink, and green shawl Kat would love. Next on her list was whisky for Fred. “May I help you, Miss?” The shopkeeper was an older gentleman who looked like he enjoyed a few nips himself.

  “Please, I would like to send a few bottles of whisky back to a friend in the States.” Emily perused the spirits. She enjoyed a drink, but didn’t have a clue how to tell good from okay booze.

  “Ah, a Yank. Where are ye from, lassie?”

  Sighing, Emily smiled at the shopkeeper…that accent was divine. “Charleston, South Carolina. My friend’s husband loves whisky, and I don’t have a clue how to pick something he’d enjoy. Could you recommend one of your favorites?”

  Taking her up and down the aisles, he told her about the various bottles. Emily stopped in her tracks, eyes drawn to a bottle with a castle on the label.

  Ravensmore.

  “Lass, ye have excellent taste. Ravensmore whisky dates back to the 1600s. The tale is the baron of the castle brewed the spirits in secret to keep up his lands. He was reported to the custom’s officers and sentenced to die for smuggling; however, the baron was murdered in his cell the night before his execution. A later heir took the illegal operation legit, and for the past century anyone can legally buy the stuff.” He finished his tale, holding out two bottles to her.

  Talk about déjà vu…the hair on the back of her neck stood up as a chill slid down her spine.

  “What a fantastic story, how amazing the same whisky is still being produced after all these hundreds of years. My friend will love it. Could you ship the bottles for me?” Paying for the lovely amber-colored liquid, Emily headed out to finish buying gifts.

  The shops were open late to celebrate Halloween weekend, many people starting early, running around in costumes having a raucous good time. Emily smiled at them as she wandered the streets, window-shopping, eventually making her way to Edinburgh Castle for the midnight haunted Halloween tour. It wouldn’t be as fun without Kat, but she needed to find Colin, help him. Shaking her head, Emily entered Edinburgh Castle as the tour was starting.

  “…there are two solitary and eight large cells for keeping prisoners. Ye’ll also see a pit where lions were kept and unruly tourists fed to them.” The guide paused, waiting for the laughter of the group.

  “’Tis also rumored there are secret escape tunnels though no one ever escaped from the castle. Enjoy the extra time to wander about as ye like…but beware.”

  Grabbing a lukewarm Pepsi from the café, she headed down to the dungeons. Wanting to spend some time there, imagining what it must have been like.

  While Emily looked over every square inch of the dungeon, the last of her group moved on. They had heard of someone seeing a ghost up near the chapel and ran to find out what was going on. Alone, she moved back to the last cell in the dungeon. Hearing a rustling noise and grimacing to think it might be a rat, she cautiously watched where she stepped. She loved animals, but rats freaked her out.

  “Hello, is anyone there? I can hear you. The guide is on his way, I’m not alone.”

  There were voices coming from the cell on her left, what she heard turned her blood to ice.

  Colin.

  “Fucking strutting peacock, ye can’t even fight me like a man. Ye come at me to kill me when I’m chained to a bloody wall? I. Curse. Ye. I. Curse. Abigail. May ye both rot in hell with nary a day of peace for the rest of your miserable lives. Well, go on then, do it.”

  “No! Stop! Don’t touch him!” Without thinking Emily threw her drink to the ground, shoving the man aside as he was about to stab Colin in the heart.

  She blinked as the guy vanished into thin air. What was it with disappearing men? Maybe she was still back in the hospital in Charleston, in some kind of coma and wasn’t here at all. Pinching her arm hard, she yelped, nope, real enough … that would leave a bruise in the morning.

  The smell of peaches and sunshine—Colin’s head snapped up, inhaling deeply, he remembered her scent, it invaded his senses.

  “Lass, what are you doing here? How did you find me?”

  Damn it all to hell. The hourglass had started, he knew now without a doubt…Emily was his bloody Cursebreaker. One week. She had one week to save him before they both were doomed. He was so weary of his endless existence. On the positive side, if they failed, and he turned wraith—he’d have quiet. Escape from the noise. There was one small, pretty problem…he couldn’t let this vibrant, enchanting woman be alone for eternity. She deserved someone to love her. Not him—he was damaged beyond repair—but someone who could love her the way she deserved. Must be some way to spare her. He’d have to go before Thorne…hell; the god was as likely to strike them both dead if he was in a foul mood as he was to listen to Colin.

  He was never prepared for the emptiness, the loss of self, as his power drained from his battered body, leaching out, the air swirling around him, shimmering silver. All Shadow Walkers were helpless during the anniversary of their death. None of their powers worked; most times they were grievously injured, making it easier for Day Walkers to hunt and kill them.

  ’Twas one thing to be powerless for the usual twenty-four hours every year, but a full week? Bloody hell, he’d have to take her someplace safe before any of the Day Walkers discovered what had happened.

  He coughed up blood, chest burning with every breath as he ground out, “We have to leave. Get you to safety…” his voice trailed off.

  Hell, broken ribs hurt like a bitch, didn’t matter if you were mortal or immortal. As far as he knew, no Shadow Walker had broken their curse…head pounding, he figured, why think about “what if,” might as well see what would happen in the coming week.

  “Colin? Oh Colin! Thank goodness. I can’t believe I was right to look here. Get me to safety? I’m not the one pinned to the wall like a human dartboard.” Emily opened the cell door recoiling. He was chained, spread-eagle to the stone. This couldn’t be for show. His hair was lank and greasy, his clothes filthy, the sleeve of his shirt stained dark brown. Through the tear in his shirt, she could see his arm, encrusted with blood, angry red lines radiating out from the wound. There wasn’t anything in the cell except a bucket…she shuddered to think of having to use a bucket in full view of everyone. As she was thinking about the lack of privacy, the biggest rat she’d ever seen scurried across the floor into the next cell. Stifling a scream, she jumped.

  “How do I get you down? We have to get you to a doctor and have that arm looked at. I think it’s infected.” She moved to his side, brushing the hair out of his eyes, her hand coming away with a silver shimmer. Raising his head to look at her, she could see his lip was split, his face battered and bruised. There was blood on every surface…soaking his clothes, on the floor, spattered all over the walls of the cell. Someone or somebodies beat the shit out of him. He looked awful. Putting her hand to her mouth to keep from gasping, she started to gag from the stench. She would be mortified if she threw up on him. Wiping her face, she tried not to cry at the damage that had been done to him, how one human being could be so awful to another she’d never understo
od.

  “Are ye all right? Seem a bit green around the gills.”

  “Um, I have a hard time dealing with blood. Something from my childhood.”

  “Better close your eyes then lass, there’s an awful lot ‘o it around us.” He sounded amused. How could he make jokes when he must be in agonizing pain? She just looked at him like he was crazy. A memory, crystal clear, came to her. Once when her brother was six, he’d cut open his hand playing on the construction site for a new home. In and out, in and out, she thought she could hear the thread pulling, making a squicking sound as it went through flesh and blood, sewing up the wound. All of sudden she saw black spots. When Emily came to, the doctor was chuckling while putting her up on the next bed. He gave her an ice pack for the back of her head. Her brother was fine. From that day on, she couldn’t stand the sight of blood.

  “The keys are hanging on the wall above the table.” Colin rasped as he started coughing, Emily didn’t have a clue how she’d get him out of there. This was not possible; she must be having some kind of delayed response to almost dying. She assumed she was hallucinating or having a walking, talking, daydream. This couldn’t be real. There wasn’t time to get re-enactors down here. Okay Emily, pull it together and get the damn keys to unlock him. Figure it out later.

 

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