Summers' Shadow (Hunters Trilogy Book 2)

by Sara J. Bernhardt

  “Well, there certainly isn’t any kind of loyalty to that now.”

  He let out a sputtered chuckle again. “Looks like it may be something for you to be worried about after all, eh, Clem?”

  I tried to smile, but I couldn’t. “We need your help.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “What are you saying?”

  I stuttered and choked on my words. “I…I’m his son.”

  “Whose son?”

  I swallowed and looked away.

  “Tell him, James,” Luna whispered.

  “James?” Walter retorted. “You didn’t!”

  I turned back to face him and slowly nodded.

  “Oh my God!”

  I tried to look at him. I tried to say something—anything. I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. I instantly started crying, and he pulled me into his chest.

  “I don’t know what to do,” I said through sobs. “I belong in Hell!”

  “Don’t say that, Clem,” he coaxed.

  “I’ve killed,” I told him. “Walter, I’ve murdered innocent people, more people than I can count.”

  He pushed me away, but his face remained tranquil and sad. “Clem, you’re a good person. I know that, and you know that.”

  “That’s not all,” I said. “I fear now you will never again love me.”

  “What are you talking about?” he bellowed. “There is nothing you can do to make me not love you.”

  “I messed up.”

  “Talk to me about it, Clem.”

  I shook my head. I tried to tell him, but it was like I had forgotten what I was going to say. I had rehearsed it in my head for hours, and once it came time to say it, my fear had paralyzed me. Walter was the only person I had now. He was the only one who could help us. I knew I had to tell him.

  Do it for Daniel.

  I mustered all my courage and tried again. Still nothing came out of my mouth when I tried to speak. It seemed like days that I stood there, completely paralyzed and dumbfounded until I heard Luna speak.

  “It’s okay,” she said. “Tell him.”

  I brought my eyes to his and forced the words from my mouth. “I destroyed our dreams.” My voice was stifled by sudden tears. “Oh God, Walter. I’m so sorry. Our dreams of science, they are dead!”

  “Ah, my boy,” he started, smiling, “dreams don’t die.” He spoke calmly with a kind expression on his aged, furrowed face. He made me smile when he looked at me that way.

  “Here”—he gestured to the couch—“have a seat, and tell me what happened.”

  I started from the beginning with my sickness and the death of my parents, leading all the way to the over three years I had spent with The Sevren.

  When I was finished explaining my mistakes, I knew I had to tell him about Abraham’s plans for me.

  “I’ve been chosen for a mission,” I said.

  “What kind of mission?” His eyes narrowed.

  “You need to help us get out,” Luna interrupted.

  He nodded. “I understand. I know somebody who can help. But tell me what kind of mission?”

  I sighed and lowered my head. “I have been sent to kill this family.”

  “What family?”

  I struggled to remember the last name and turned to Luna.

  “Callahan,” she said.

  I nodded. “The sister, mother, and father.”

  Walter nodded. “I know that family.”

  “You do?”

  “Of course,” he answered. “Abraham wants them dead because they are connected to The Silver Wing. My father was the one who established The Silver Wing, and after his death, I took it over, so of course I know the people involved.”

  “How well?”

  He bowed his head.

  “Walter?”

  “I had this old chest,” he started, “filled with pictures and letters. A friend of mine, who joined the Silver Wing around the same time as I did, took it from me. He said it was for my own good. He couldn’t stand watching me shuffle through the contents. I was making myself miserable with the memories of the ones I left behind, so he took it. He is dead now, tragically. It will not end with him. They will set out to kill everyone connected to him. As far as I know, the chest was given to his son. It’s locked so nobody can find the secrets hidden inside, but that doesn’t mean his family is safe.”

  “There was a boy,” Luna said.

  Walter looked to her and pulled his eyebrows together. “Young?”

  “Yes.”

  “His grandson,” he whispered. “He’s dead?”

  My throat constricted, and I felt physically sick.

  Luna nodded. “The Sevren is now after the rest of the family. The job was offered to James to kill them.”

  “I understand,” he answered.

  “What do we do?” I asked.

  “Get away. You need to get away. Stay here for a while. It’s far enough away from them for now.”

  I nodded, still unsure of how this was going to end.

  Chapter Eight

  The days passed easily enough. For two weeks we stayed with Walter, but nothing yet had been planned on how we were to get away from him unseen. It was almost as if we were all too frightened to even speak of it. It was always so quiet; we all went about our days in silence, speaking when only essential. It got to the point where I couldn’t stand it any longer. I had to get out.

  “Luna, I’m heading out,” I told her.

  “Are you out of your mind?” she questioned, almost sarcastically, crossing her arms and cocking her head.

  She made me laugh. “No, really,” I said. “It’s all right. I’ll steer clear of Abraham.”

  “How are you planning on getting there?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You don’t have a driver’s license, James.”

  I laughed loudly. It was completely unnecessary. “Do you not know Father at all?”

  “What?” Her voice swelled with tension.

  “I have a driver’s license, Luna—three to be exact.”

  “You have…what?”

  “Don’t worry. I’ve taken care of it. I’m borrowing Walter’s car. I’ll just be out for a cup of coffee. I’ll be back in less than an hour.”

  “James…”

  “Luna, don’t say anything,” I demanded, almost harshly. I was sick to death of her tending to me like I was too incompetent to take care of myself.

  I looked over one of the IDs and decided Aidan Summers fit me well enough for the time being in case anyone asked. I left quickly, driving to Books by the Bay for a cup of coffee and perhaps a quick read. I walked in, and the place was practically empty. I strolled around to the fiction section, hoping to find something interesting to keep my mind off Abraham and the betrayal that was eating away at me.

  That’s when I saw her—a quiet girl flipping through random books and tossing them back on the shelves. She was plowing through them as if she knew exactly what she was looking for. Her movement slowed, and I watched her eyes move to the top shelf. She reached for a thick book with a green binding and broad gold letters reading, Selected Works of Charles Dickens.

  Nice choice. She tugged at the book hastily while grumbling to herself. I almost laughed at her reactions. She was very interesting to observe. Suddenly, I noticed the shelf slowly leaning toward her. I rushed over and gently pushed the shelf back upright and rearranged the books, handing her the one she had been tugging at.

  “Are you all right?” I asked, still amused by her.

  “Fine,” she answered reluctantly. “Thanks.”

  “I couldn’t let the shelf topple over on you like that, now could I?” I smiled at her, trying to ignore her chestnut eyes that were almost burning into my own. I couldn’t help but to stare. I saw her quickly avert her gaze. I felt I was making her uncomfortable, but something about her just roused a strange curiosity in me.

  “Sorry for being so impatient. I’m feeling a little anxious today,” she said, possibly ho
ping to leave without seeming rude. She didn’t seem like she wanted to speak to me at all.

  I put my hand up and tried to sound pleased and carefree. “No worries.”

  She didn’t respond right away, and I realized I was staring at her again.

  “Well…um…thanks again,” she said and turned away.

  I knew I should have left it at that, but for some reason, I ended up introducing myself. “The name’s Aidan!” I called before she disappeared around the corner.

  She turned back around meeting my eyes but said nothing.

  “This is the part where you tell me yours,” I teased.

  “Maybe later,” she said, smiling.

  I smiled back, unsure if she was trying to be charming and funny or if she was really uncomfortable. I decided it didn’t matter and bowed my head. I headed out the door, realizing I couldn’t stay there without bothering her. She was beautiful, though not in the way women in magazines were beautiful, but she had this elegance even with her amusing and inept movements. I couldn’t stand not at least knowing her name.

  I halted in front of the bookstore, going over things in my head. It was finally sinking in how wrong Abraham was. She was one he would have asked me…ordered me…to kill—a lovely young girl seemingly completely innocent. There was something sad about her, something that made her turn away from me without so much as her name. It was gnawing at my nerves. I wasn’t used to people ignoring me; in fact, I had never been turned down that way in any situation. Who was she? What was she about? I couldn’t even understand my own thoughts, couldn’t decide why I cared.

  I tried to calm my nerves before driving. I concentrated on my surroundings for a moment to straighten out my thoughts. The air was misty, but I enjoyed the small beams of sunlight piercing through the clouds.

  My thoughts scattered back to burning curiosity and confusion when I saw the girl walking out of the bookstore, toward the parking lot. Her pace quickened when she heard be behind her, but I caught up.

  “Hey,” I breathed, trying not to startle her.

  “Can I help you?” she asked, clearly irritated.

  I was silent for a moment, suddenly not sure what I could say to calm her annoyance. “I…uh…I just wanted to know if I could get your name?” I stuttered, feeling like a fool.

  “Actually, I’d much rather not tell you,” she answered, still with irritation rocking through her.

  “Why not?”

  She averted her gaze and pursed her lips before responding. “I don’t like humans.” She turned away before I could think of a response.

  Definitely clever. Surely a good way to end a conversation. I sighed, still looking in her direction, trying to see if I could possibly find a glimpse of what she was thinking. Her expression was unreadable just as it had been in the bookstore. Strange. I was usually good at reading expression and emotion, but the only thing I got from her was the fact that she was clearly uninterested in engaging in conversation. I tried to brush it off, not wanting it to turn into some ridiculous obsession.

  As soon as I got home, Luna rushed to the door. Her breath exploded when she saw me.

  “Fine,” I told her, suppressing laughter. “I’m fine.”

  “Why is everything so amusing to you?” she snapped. She tore the keys from my hand and tossed them in the wicker basket on the table by the door.

  “You really need to relax. I know how to avoid Abraham, at least for now. Walter will figure things out in the meantime.”

  She sighed. “You’re probably right, but it still makes me nervous when you leave like that. At least come up with a clever lie you would tell if Abraham were to actually find you.”

  Of course, I thought. It was very unlike me for that to not have crossed my mind.

  “Understood,” I said. “Now settle down?”

  She huffed and walked away, shoving past Walter in the hallway.

  “What’s with her?” He laughed huskily.

  “She’s…tense,” I told him. “A little nervous to see me leave.”

  “Ah, you can’t stay cooped up in here all the time. You’ll go mad.”

  I smiled as I always did when Walter spoke to me. “She’ll get over it. I tend to ignore her until she gives up fighting with me.” I broke into laughter.

  Dinner was silent that night, and Luna hardly acknowledged me at all. I guessed she was still angry. I just kept to myself, trying to keep my mind off of the odd, intriguing girl from the bookstore. I slept well that night, and when I awoke, my mind instantly launched back into the day before. How insane was I to still be thinking about her?

  I sighed and got myself ready for the day, prepared to talk to Walter about The Sevren. For some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to say anything to him. I knew things were brewing in his head and he would fill me in once he had everything figured out. I didn’t want to nag at him. I focused on those thoughts so my anxiety wouldn’t drive me insane. I understood why Luna had been so frustrated with me, but either way, I couldn’t stay locked inside. I spent sixteen years of my life locked away; I was determined to at least try to interact with the world during the day.

  The girl started gnawing away at my memory again, and I decided to head down to Books by the Bay on the off chance she might be there.

  I wasn’t at all surprised when I noticed her across the room, chatting quietly with another girl. Her friend seemed highly interested in whatever was being said. Her friend was clearly pretty but in a different way—a more…conventional way. She was in a black, tight-fitting top and a short skirt while the girl I had seen before was in jeans and a T-shirt. I was very intrigued and found myself staring again. I thought they may have noticed me, so I decided I should try to look away and just look through some books to calm my nerves. I browsed mindlessly, my eyes glazing over the titles, unable to focus. That’s when I spotted her, the beautiful girl reading a book on Wicca. I couldn’t stop myself from trying to make conversation with her.

  “Reading?” I asked.

  “No,” she answered immediately. She tossed the book back onto the shelf. “The book and I were just having a conversation.”

  I laughed, thinking for sure she was flirting but still slightly annoyed by me. “All right. I asked for that one.”

  She picked up another book and opened it to some random page. I tried to let myself just leave her alone, but I hadn’t satiated my interest.

  “So, what’s new with you?” I asked, trying to sound normal and casual.

  “Why?” she asked, curtly. “It’s not like you’re actually interested.”

  Her response took me off guard. My mood shifted by her sudden rudeness. I felt almost offended.

  “Why do you have to be like that? I’m just trying to be nice to you,” I demanded.

  “I’m not interested in being nice, okay?” she spat. “I just want to be left alone.”

  “Nobody likes to always be alone.”

  “Then does that make me nobody?”

  I prepared myself to respond, but she spoke before I had the chance to come up with anything.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I just—I just want to be left alone.”

  “Well…can I at least get your name?”

  She sighed. “Jane Doe,” she said quickly and turned away.

  I was expecting to be pleased by simply knowing her name, but instead I felt like a knife had just rushed through my heart. Jane… I was almost paralyzed until I realized by her attitude that she was simply being sarcastic. Ha! Jane Doe—how original. Really funny. Something in me still wouldn’t let me leave it alone. They said she was in California, but… Now I had to be sure.

  “Is that your real name?”

  “Aidan—please!”

  That name…Aidan. Had I really introduced myself as Aidan? I shuddered.

  “Nice meeting you,” I grumbled.

  I thought I saw her turn back around toward me but ignored. I decided to leave her alone for a while, at least while my burning curiosity was satiated.
Even though she was being cynical, at least she cared enough to try so hard. She left shortly after that, so I felt there would be little harm in talking to her friend, just to at least find out her name.

  “Hello,” I said, approaching her friend.

  “Oh, hey,” she said sweetly, cocking her head and smiling at me. “Have a seat.”

  I took the chair across from her.

  “Why don’t I know you?” she asked, flipping her long, brown hair.

  “I’m new here,” I said, completely uninterested by her attempted flirting. “The name’s Aidan.”

  “I’m Becky,” she squealed overly cheerfully. Her gray eyes brightened. I instantly realized exactly what I had to do to keep her interested—talk about her.

  “I saw you earlier,” I started, making it sound like I was noticing. “Who was that girl you were talking to if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “Oh, Jane?” She laughed.

  “Yeah…I guess.”

  “What about her?”

  “I was…wondering about her name.”

  “Yeah,” she yelped. “Jane.”

  “Ah, nice,” I mumbled. Of course she would have told her exactly what to say to anybody bothering to ask.

  I huffed and got up from the table. I walked out suddenly, more irritated than anything else. Jane crowded my thoughts the entire drive home. I was willing to believe her name was Jane, but she couldn’t be Jane Doe—could she? What parent with the last name Doe would name their daughter Jane? I asked myself a thousand other questions but came back to one conclusion. I had to be sure. Something was drawing me to her, like some energy she had. She was lovely and different. Even through her sneering remarks, I found hidden charm in her witty responses. She always had some interesting answer to my prodding questions. But if she was Jane Callahan, there could be trouble there for not only myself.

  I walked inside.

  “Walter?” I called, tossing his keys into the basket.

  “In here,” he yelled back.

  I followed his voice into the bedroom, and my feet froze in place, almost pulling me to the floor. His hands were up in front of his chest, and beads of sweat rimmed his brow. The gun pressed into his back was like an assault on my nerves. I instinctively raised my hands.