Trapped In Shadow (Shadow Walker Romance Series Book 4)
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Trapped In Shadow
Book Four in the Shadow Walker Tribe Romance Series
Caryn Moya Block
Copyright
Published by Caryn M. Block
Copyright © 2016 Caryn M. Block
Cover Design by Cora Graphics
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the author, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Blurb
Trapped In Shadow
Book Four in the Shadow Walker Tribe Romance Series
Stacey Johnson is all about secrets. She’s an operative for the government and kills people on command. Love has no place in her life. Even when she dreams about Hugh Thunder Hoof, the one man who makes her wish for a different lifestyle. With him she can believe that happy endings are possible.
Hugh Thunder Hoof, Shadow Walker, left the service after being injured. Now he walks with a slight limp. The one thing he still craves from that crazy lifestyle is his last partner, Stacey Johnson. When she shows up in his life five years later, he thinks he’ll finally get his wish. But Stacey isn’t going to make it easy on him and once again when the mission is finished she disappears. Only this time, he’s going after her.
Contents
Book Four in the Shadow Walker Tribe Romance Series
Copyright
Blurb
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Epilogue
Coming Soon
Fiery Magic
Lycan’s Mate
Also by Caryn Moya Block
About the Author
Dedication
To you, my readers. I wish you every good thing.
Acknowledgements
I give special thanks to my husband, Michael. Thank you for being so patient with me and helping me with my research. You are the greatest!
Thank you to my Beta Readers and of course to my editor, Tina Winograd.
Chapter One
“Target is entering the building. Mission is a go, Stinger.”
Stacey Johnson, code name “Stinger,” readied the poison ring and nonchalantly walked across the lobby of the five-star hotel. Light from the crystal chandeliers bounced off the marble floors, illuminating the room in a warm glow. Her stiletto heels clicked out a message of death with each step. The noise blended with the conversations of the movers and shakers of Washington DC who mingled with upper class tourists and visiting international dignitaries.
Tonight, she went by the name Linda Howell. Her cover being a starlet who just made her big break. A bright red wig covered her normally blond hair and her outfit dripped trè chic.
Her target, a South American arms dealer selling to America’s enemies, walked in the door. With a jolt, Stinger was surprised to see a small girl holding the man’s hand. Her dark curls bobbed as she skipped to keep up with the long stride of the adult’s every step. Nobody mentioned a child in the mission briefing, only a spouse the target eliminated. The little girl looked to be around six, the same age Stinger was when covert agents murdered her mother.
“What’s with the little girl?” she asked through the two-way radio piece signaling her partner waiting outside.
“His daughter. Make the hit, Stinger.”
“He has a daughter? This isn’t right. She shouldn’t see this!”
The sound of three shots filled her head. Her mother’s bleeding body. Sweat broke out on her upper lip.
“Cardozo sells arms to terrorists! You have your orders. Make the hit. I want to go home. Besides, this is the guy who took out your partner.”
A flash of Hugh Thunder Hoof lying on the concrete covered in blood pervaded her thoughts. Her heartbeat accelerated. She blinked and gritted her teeth. Hugh wasn’t dead.
“Put out of commission, you mean.”
“Whatever. Do your job, Stinger.”
Sighing, she continued toward the target and reached for that special part of her psyche that seemed to know things. When she concentrated on the man, she could feel the evil flowing off him. It was almost like the choices he made slowly rotted his soul and Stinger picked up on the smell. He wasn’t worth saving.
A blond woman walked up to the group and took the girl’s hand. As she began to lead the child away to the elevators, the woman glanced back at Stinger and winked.
Only years of training stopped her from stumbling. Stinger knew that face, but the woman she remembered was long dead. Why did the au pair look like Stinger’s mother and why did she wink? Shit! Was her cover blown?
“Basecamp we might have a problem. The nanny winked at me.”
“The way you look tonight, I’d wink at you too. Keep with the target, Stinger.”
The arms dealer turned toward the hotel bar. Stinger made a slight adjustment to her path. The au pair and the child waited for an elevator. Stinger peered down at her cell phone and increased her pace. Bumping into the man, she turned her hand so the ring brushed his wrist and the poisoned pin made a small scratch.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said.
“Not a problem,” the man answered.
She headed for the front door. “Package is delivered,” she whispered.
“Good job, Stinger. Another bad guy off the streets.”
Stinger reached the automatic door and walked into cool evening air. The door began to close when a child’s shriek filled the air. “Daddy…”
Stinger winced and kept walking, turning right on Constitution Ave and hurrying toward a black van. She slipped inside and the driver hit the gas.
Surreptitiously, she wiped at the tear near the corner of her eye. At least the little girl who lost her father tonight didn’t have to witness the blood and gunshot wounds Stinger witnessed. The group who took her mother’s life hadn’t cared a little girl was in the car when they forced the vehicle off the road and shot the driver repeatedly in the chest.
“You okay? It was an easy op tonight,” the agent said. “I think we made a good team. We should work together more often.”
“I prefer to work alone,” Stinger said, removing the ring and placing it in its case. Drop me off at the next light.”
“You didn’t always work alone. I know about your partner. I could take his place.”
The van slowed at the red light. Stinger opened the door and grabbed her bag before exiting.
“Hey,” the agent yelled.
“Nobody can take Hugh’s place and that’s why I work alone.” She slammed the van door.
The agent shook his head and reached for the radio. Stinger walked into the darkness of the night, her
thoughts in turmoil. Who was the woman with the little girl? How could she look so much like Akilina Konstantinov Holland, a KGB agent who’d married an American? There was only one place to find answers. Stinger would have to visit her father.
§
Stinger, now dressed in black from head to toe, disabled the alarm and placed the knife between the windowpanes, then slowly released the catch. As quietly as possible, she lifted the old wooden window frame, thankful it wasn’t painted shut.
Glancing around the grounds one more time, she slipped inside the stately home. She froze. Every sense on alert. In a room upstairs a television blared. Moving lightly across the floor, she reached for the door handle. Ever so gently the knob turned and the door opened a crack. The house was dark with the only light coming from the moon.
She crept down the hall to the office door. Once inside, she rushed to the desk and the computer. Powering up the machine, she wished it would boot up faster. It wouldn’t be long before company arrived. Then, she was in. Her hands flew over the keys. Searching for the files that would give her the information she wanted. She slipped in a flash drive and hit the button to download.
“What the hell are you doing here?” The light turned on. “Dammit, I could have shot you. You should have warned me you were coming. Get out of my computer files, those are classified!” General Thomas Holland roared as he strode into the room.
“Is that the proper way to react to an intruder? If I were here to kill you, you’d be dead. If I can get this far, any other assassin can too.” She finally looked up and glared at him while hiding the flash drive in her clenched fist. She hit the escape button to hide her tampering. The old man thought he was invincible. The truth was, he was getting old.
“What were you looking for?”
“Whether you were the one who put the contract out on Derek Darkwood.” That was a lie, but she couldn’t trust her father not to block her attempts to find information on her mother. She slipped the drive into her pocket.
“I wouldn’t hurt him. I owe him and his tribe too much to do such a thing. Though if Hugh Thunder Hoof calls me one more time, I might change my mind. He’s trying to find you, both of you, Stinger and Stacey. He’s mighty pissed you ran from him, again. And it seems Stinger left him a note. Stupid move there, sweetheart. Do you love him? ‘Cause if not, he might need to have an accident. I don’t want your covers blown because that boy has a crush on you.”
Anastacia Holland, code name “Stinger” or Stacey as her father liked to call her, moved to stand toe-to-toe and nose-to-nose with the general.
“You touch one hair on Hugh’s head and more than my covers will be blown.” Each word was followed with a poke to the chest. “I’ll leak every dirty little secret you hold dear, including the fact you married a Russian spy. Tell me, Dad. Did you have her murdered when you found out?”
“You’ve been digging into my background?” he asked incredulously. “Why didn’t you just ask me?”
“Because you’d give me the same answer you have for twenty years. Need to know. She was my mother. I loved her.”
“I loved her too, dammit! Your mother was murdered because she was a double agent. She gave her loyalty to me the day we fell in love. I don’t know how her cover was blown. I’m sorry you were caught up in it. I thank God every day they didn’t kill you too.”
“You, the spy master, couldn’t keep your own wife and child safe. I watched as my mother’s blood puddled on the seat of the car. You’ve made me into a cold blooded killer like the man who ran us off the road.”
“I’ve made you into one of my best assets. A woman who can take care of herself under any circumstance. You’ve served your country well, you should be proud of yourself.”
“I’ve killed dozens of people and wounded hundreds more. I see their faces every day.”
“They were bad people, Stacey. None of them were innocent. You were doing the world a service by taking them out.”
“I don’t want to do this anymore,” Stacey stepped back and plopped in the chair in front of the desk. She pulled the black knit cap from her head letting her blond hair fall around her shoulders. Feelings of defeat washed over her.
“You’ve made me a non-entity. Everything about me is a lie. Nobody knows your daughter survived and is alive and well. I’ve become a shadow trapped forever in the dark.”
“You’re tired, honey. Head up to the mountain cabin. Give yourself some time. Things will look clearer after a rest.” The general patted her shoulder. “You’ve got two weeks, and then I want you back for your next mission.”
Stacey sighed. He didn’t get it. She stood and headed for the door.
“Stacey.”
Her father’s voice stopped her, but she didn’t bother to look back. Would he ask for the flash drive?
“You’ve got to pull yourself together. You’re stronger than this.”
Shaking her head, she walked out of the room and out of her father’s house. She couldn’t think of it as hers since she’d never lived with him after her mother was killed.
He had hidden her away, placing her with foster parents and giving her their name. Johnson, such a common name, almost as common as Smith, though she doubted even that was real.
The couple were agents, as well, as her foster parents and bodyguards. They’d raised her as best they could under the circumstances. She even grew fond of them, but there was always something missing from their relationship. They never let Stacey forget they were only doing their job. Her heart ached and she shook her head. Tears once more threatened.
Her black Porsche was parked down the street. She got in and headed out of Washington DC for home. Her small cottage in Virginia was as close to home as she could get with one foot always out the door.
In her business, she couldn’t afford to let down her guard. She’d come close with Hugh, her old partner. He was sweet, charming, and so good looking with his dark hair and chocolate eyes.
He’d treated her like someone special, someone he wanted to be with. She’d almost succumbed to his charms. Then she’d gotten ambushed and pinned down on a mission. He’d come for her and gotten shot several times for his trouble.
They’d used that strange dimensional travel Hugh controlled and arrived at a military hospital in time. Once Stacey knew he was out of danger, she left him behind, until last month. Five years after she’d walked away from the man she’d feared she was in love with, another mission brought them together.
This last time she’d left him almost ripped out her heart, what was left of it. She found it harder and harder to continue as a black ops contractor for the Central Intelligence Agency. More than anything, she wanted to go back to New Mexico and Hugh, but she couldn’t leave him again. She wouldn’t survive it. Once he found out what she’d become, a paid assassin for the government, he wouldn’t want anything to do with her.
Pulling into the driveway of her home, she was surprised to see her neighbors out front having a party. They waved and motioned her over. Stacey ran her fingers through her hair, hoping it didn’t look too bad. The cool evenings warned winter wasn’t done yet. Stacey was glad she wore a long-sleeved shirt. She smiled and prepared to talk herself out of joining the group. These people knew her as Ana Powers.
“Ana, you’re working late,” Jim Knox said. His wife, Judy, walked up and put her arm around him.
Stacey smiled, wondering if Judy was jealous. She always seemed to be touching Jim while Stacey was around.
“Ana,” their four-year-old daughter, Lucy, squealed.
Stacey leaned down to catch the child when she ran and threw herself at Stacey.
“Lucy, don’t you look pretty.” The child wore a pink tutu and fairy wings.
“I’m a fairy princess.”
“Yes, you are,” Stacey said, smiling and hugging Lucy. Her heart warmed with affection for the little girl. She looked at Jim and Judy. They were so lucky to have such a sweet child.
“Would you like a beer
or a brat? We’ve got plenty,” Jim offered.
“Thanks,” Stacey said, putting Lucy down. “To tell you the truth, I’m bushed. I think I’m going to take a bath and enjoy a glass of wine before hitting the sack. I appreciate the offer though.”
“You work so hard,” Judy said.
“Yeah, but I’m going to take some time off. I’m leaving tomorrow for a couple weeks. Could you get my mail for me while I’m gone?” There wouldn’t be anything important. Few people knew that Ana Powers was really Anastacia Holland, or Stacey Johnson, but it helped to make the neighbors feel needed.
“Sure. Speaking of mail, a package came for you today. I’ll get it.” Jim hurried into the house.
“Where are you going on your vacation?” Judy asked.
“I’m meeting some friends who have a timeshare at the beach.” The lie rolled off her tongue so easily. Her whole life was a lie.
“It’s kind of cold for the beach,” Judy said.
“I don’t like to swim, so it works for me.” Stacey shrugged.
“Here you go,” Jim said, handing a padded envelope to Stacey.
“Thanks,” Stacey said.
“Sorry, you can’t join us,” Judy said.
“Me too, have fun and I’ll see you when I get back.” Her neighbors always looked out for her. They even brought her soup when she was sick last winter.
“Sure thing,” Jim said, picking up Lucy and swinging her in the air.
Lucy giggled and Judy once more put her arm around her husband as they walked to the people sitting around the barbeque.
Stacey sighed, wishing for a moment she could join them, have what they had, a normal happy life. She turned and walked into her cold dark cottage and flipped on a light. The warm colors of her décor couldn’t lift her spirits tonight.
Tossing the package on the couch, she went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of wine. She poured herself a glass and took a drink before falling onto the cushy seat. She picked up the package and looked at the return address. In bold handwriting, it read Hugh Thunder Hoof, Isanti, Inc. New Mexico.