Other books by RaeAnne Hadley
Mechanics of Murder
With Love; Now & Forever
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2011 by RaeAnne Hadley
ISBN 978-1-257-74571-5
I have so many people in my life to thank for the help with this book. First, to Nancy Day, for helping create Stacia. This woman was dead within the first two chapters and Nancy helped make her into the strong woman she is! Second, to Carol, for being my wonderful editor with all three books. Thank you for your honesty, even when I didn’t like hearing it. A huge thanks to Mark and Melissa Perry, who helped create the synopsis, which plagues me with ALL of my books. You’re the best. To my friends, who read it and made suggestions on how to make it better. Always to my readers, who keep asking for more! I love you so much! Thanks to my music muses, Pink, Black Eyed Peas, Ludacris, Muse, J.T., Rick Springfield and so many others, I honestly can’t write without my tunes! Lastly but most importantly, my husband and my girls, who encourage me to live my dream, write my stories and tell my tale. You are my life, my loves.
SHADOWS
ONE
He woke up with a start, aware that he had slept longer than intended. The dimness in the room and the lack of traffic noise coming from the street outside told him that it was still early morning, the normal world was still sleeping peacefully.
Lying on his back, he rolled over onto his side and reached across the bed, searching for the warm, feminine body. He bolted upright when all he came into contact with were cool, silky sheets. He frantically looked around the room, searching for any sign of her, straining to hear any noise, quickly and quietly getting dressed.
“Please let her be okay, please let her be okay.” He repeated the phrase, using it as his mantra as if to ward off any other options. He cursed himself not only for falling asleep but also for his overwhelming need for intimacy and affection. He caught a glimpse of himself in the dresser mirror and disgusted at the reflection that glared back, cursed himself again. He was extremely handsome, his tall frame chiseled and toned, boasting broad shoulders and chest while his waist just slightly narrowed, leading down to a muscular, sculpted abdomen. His dark blonde hair was touched with golden highlights that naturally appeared in the sunny summer months. His dark blue eyes resembled that of storms on the ocean, changing and churning with turbulence. How many times had he wished, had prayed, that he wasn’t so becoming. It would be easier to stay alone if he blended in with the background, but the modern women of today weren’t happy to just sit back and wait for men to come to them. If they saw a man they wanted, they go after him and truth of the matter was, he wasn’t made of stone. He could be sitting in a restaurant alone or in the corner of the bar and at least one woman would come over and offer to buy him a drink or ask to join him. Most of the time he was able to ward off their advances, claiming he was unavailable or otherwise involved but there were times when his loneliness overwhelmed him and his need for human interaction got the better of him. Not having any friends, family or co-workers, loneliness occasionally overwhelmed him.
With the death of his family when he was seven, he inherited all of his father’s companies and his parent’s very large insurance policy. He had been placed in a foster home until his eighteenth birthday, when he legally became an adult and able to move out on his own. His foster family had never been abusive, just indifferent. They were in it for the money and because he kept himself secluded and never got into trouble at school, went mostly unnoticed for those eleven years. He would have thought that all those years of being alone would condition him to get used to, and possibly even enjoy, the solitude. Unfortunately, it had actually made it worse and he found himself yearning for contact and intimacy. He dreamt of being in a relationship, holding someone’s hand while walking in the park, opening presents with them early Christmas morning, cuddling up with that special woman each night and falling asleep in each other’s arms. Then he would catch a movement out of the corner of his eye, just a slight flicker and his dreams would crash back to the earth. He could never be so selfish as to risk a lover by being in a relationship.
It had been over a year since he had been with a woman and it had been easy to allow himself to get drawn into the fun, flirtatious antics with the pretty blonde at the bar last night. Relishing the sexual teasing but determined not to let it go very far, he kept the conversation light. After a couple of hours of talking, she had invited him over to her place, boldly informing him that she planned on having her way with him. She was cute in a pixie sort of way, her light golden hair cut into a short bob that accented her deep dimples and cornflower blue eyes. He towered over her, his six-foot-three inch frame overshadowing her petite five-foot-four inches, but what she lacked in size, she made up for in personality. She was larger than life and full of fun and before he knew it, he was caught up in her sense of humor and ‘live for the moment’ attitude.
Since he wasn’t drinking, he drove both of them back to her place. It was a small, one bedroom apartment, filled to the brim with furniture and collectibles that revealed her eclectic taste. The entire place was small, no more than six hundred square feet but being located in the nicer area of Long Island, he knew the rent wasn’t cheap. She either had a very good job or came from a family with money though none of that mattered to him. He wasn’t interested in a relationship, short-term or long-term. What he was searching for tonight was the warmth of human contact, the one-on-one intimate pleasures between a man and a woman. It was too dangerous for him to want more.
He had told himself that he would only be with her for a few hours, that he would be aware of his surroundings the entire time and not fall asleep. Early on in his twenty-seven years, he had perfected the necessary talents for staying alive; one of those talents was being able to survive on very little sleep. He sometimes thought of himself as a predator, able to focus on the things right in front of him while still being completely aware of all that was around him, ready to fight on a moment’s notice. Unfortunately, more often than not, he knew that he was the one being hunted.
He softly knocked on the bathroom door and held his breath, praying that she was in there, still alive.
“Hello, Pixie?” he called out tentatively. “Are you okay in there?” When he didn’t receive a response, he took a deep breath, muttered a curse and opened the door. At the scene that opened up before him, his breath came out in a rush as if someone had punched him in the gut. The petite, blonde-haired young woman that had just hours ago been laughing and full of life, now lay in her bathtub, blood-tinted water, her wrists slit up her forearms, gazing sightlessly into the mirror.
“Son of a bitch, Murphy,” he swore at himself, “you didn’t protect her! You let it happen again, you bastard!”
TWO
Tabitha Reynolds sat on her balcony, sipping her cup of coffee, absorbing the beautiful view overlooking the Hudson river. Most of the view consisted of the docks along the four-lane highway of Eleventh Ave and West Side Highway but she enjoyed watching the hustle and bustle of blue collar New York. She didn’t know why but she felt like this was going to be a fantastic day. She had her first job interview later that morning with a well-known and respected interior designer looking for an apprentice. She absolutely loved interior design and having gone to school for more than four years, had finally graduated and was ready to join the working class society.
She hadn’t beat herself up when it had taken her longer to graduate than her other classmates. They hadn’t dealt with the traumas that life had thrown at her, the things that plagued her that
didn’t seem to plague others. It also made it easier on her to have her classmates advance faster than herself because then she didn’t have to come up with excuses for why she didn’t have any close friends. No one was around long enough to realize that Tabitha was always alone. Because there was no one close to her, she never concerned herself about people taking advantage of her financially, either. She didn’t work, her beautiful apartment and all of her bills were paid by her trust fund. She had inherited a small fortune when she tragically lost her parents. Determined not to squander the money, she lived frugally. With strategic investments, she was now worth millions. She didn’t think it was a fair trade and would have willingly given up all of the money to get her parents back but life doesn’t give you those kinds of choices and as the bitter saying goes, life isn’t fair.
Surprisingly, people on the outside always thought that Tabitha was a very sociable, friendly young lady. She was always at plays, college sporting events and anywhere else that a social gathering occurred. Many of them thought that she was shy because, although she was always at these events, she never engaged in long conversations and quickly made excuses to leave if the conversations turned personal. It wasn’t hard in this industry to keep to yourself, everyone was caught up in what their future held, who they would be working for and how quickly they could get to the top of the proverbial ladder and make a name for themselves. Tabitha learned early on that if she dressed in shapeless, neutral colors that she could blend into the walls and practically disappear. She was a very striking woman and at twenty-five, could have easily gone into modeling. Her olive complexion was accentuated by her long, black hair, deep emerald eyes and high, sculpted cheekbones. Her lips were full but not overly large, lips made for kissing, her one and only boyfriend had told her, and she smiled at the thought of him. She was tall and slender but had feminine curves that would have been beautifully revealed had she worn properly fitting clothes.
Getting up from the patio, she went inside to get ready for her interview. She had her suit picked out and laying on her bed, something professional but not tight. She hoped her portfolio would do the talking for her, having sent it over to the office a week earlier. She turned on the radio in the bathroom as she stepped into the shower, humming to a Nelly Furtado song that always seemed to put her in a great mood. While she was shampooing her hair, she closed her eyes and started dreaming of what it would be like to be a world renown interior designer. Maybe she could decorate Justin Timberlake and Jessica Biel’s new home, if they ever got married. She hoped they wouldn’t break up, they appeared to be the perfect couple. She giggled at the thought of decorating their home and started to rinse her hair, feeling the lather run down her back and cascade down her legs. She felt a shiver run down her neck and started with a jerk as the sensation of long fingernails ran down her calf.
“No, no, no! Not today! Don’t do this to me today!” She quickly blinked back the tears welling up in her eyes as she slowly looked down at her leg. There, coming up from the drain, was a long demonic arm stroking its sharp pointed fingers along her calf. She screamed and jumped out of the shower turning around to shut the door on her intruder but found the shower empty. She knew it had been there, the image of it still fresh, the sight of the dark brown hairless arm. It was her fault, she told herself, she let herself daydream and hadn’t stayed aware of her surroundings. It happened every time and she knew better, she had to put herself back on the defensive.
Feeling stronger and trying to regain composure, she went back to getting ready. She finished rinsing her hair in the sink and wrapped her head in a towel while walking to her bedroom. She started seeing glimpses out of the corner of her eye, shapes and objects that would move just outside of her vision, shadows that would flicker.
“Damn it!” she cursed. She’d let her guard down and now they were taking advantage of it.
She had done a lot of research on strange and different phenomena, trying to find out if there were others out there like her. The closest she found to her situation were psychics, but from what she read of psychics, they were tuned in to the next world, able to see through the thin veil that shrouded this world from the one that the deceased lived in. It sounded as though psychics were given a beautiful blessing, being able to converse with the loved ones that had passed on. What she had was far from a blessing, it was more of a curse. She knew others sometimes experienced what she experienced but not to the extent that she did. She had seen the movies and read the books that told the tales of shivering sensations up the spine, hair standing on the back of your neck and the glimpses of things best unnamed out of the corner of your eye. For her, those things didn’t disappear when you turned to face them, those nightmares became reality.
THREE
Tabitha raced to her interview to try and make it on time. Still feeling shaky from her encounter in the shower, she was scattered and confused, wasting time searching for her keys that were hanging by the door which caused her to get a late start. The traffic into the city didn’t help and she impatiently rode the elevator up to the fifth floor, willing it to go faster. She burst through the office doors five minutes after her appointed time. She was thankful when the twenty-something receptionist told her that Ms. Todd was running late and would be in shortly. She made herself at home in the waiting area, sinking down into the soft, olive green, oversized chair. The lobby was fairly large. A semi-circular mahogany reception desk was placed in the center. There was a hallway off to the left that appeared to lead to the inner offices and glass cubicles on the right. Desks, decorated with personal paraphernalia and in different levels of disarray, sat quietly as if anticipating their owners arrival. The carpets were a low pile, taupe and tan colored Berber, that flowed to the matching textured walls. Finding it somewhat bland and boring, she began mentally redecorating the lobby area while she waited.
Out of all of the firms where she could have applied, she had chosen Stacia Todd’s firm specifically because she was a woman. She didn’t want to have to worry about fending off the advances of her boss and knew from the society page that Stacia was currently dating a well-known soap star. Tabitha didn’t have a boyfriend and didn’t want one after losing her one and only to a horrific experience.
It had been three years ago, when she was nineteen, that she had lost Dylan. They had been dating for a year and were head over heels for each other, talk of marriage and a family became their focus of conversation and they started counting down the months until they tied the knot. She had been a late bloomer with the boys, her nightmares taking precedence over her teenage life and Dylan had started out as just a friend but over time, became her confidant and then her boyfriend. She had confided in him about the nightmares and the things she saw but he always told her it was just her hormones and an overactive imagination. He tried to tell her in a loving, patient way but she heard the underlying tone of disbelief and frustration in his voice. He thought she was being a silly teenage girl going through the insecurities of turning into a woman and not having a mother to help guide her. Tabitha had never been sexually active and Dylan had only been with one other girl before her. They had planned to make love one night, when his parents left town for their anniversary. Far from romantic, they had ordered pizza, watched a movie and then went back to his room where they quickly became engrossed with each other. Knowing that Tabitha was still a virgin, Dylan was trying to be gentle and take his time but still being young, allowed his own passion to overtake him. Clumsily, he began pulling at the buttons on her blouse while kissing and licking at her mouth and throat, he was all over the place, like a kid in a candy store but she didn’t say anything.
Tabitha wanted him just as much as he wanted her but she lacked experience which caused her to be hesitant and timid. She knew she would have bruised lips in the morning from his brusque and harsh kissing but she relished in the unfamiliar heat that grew within her belly. She could feel his erection pressing against her thigh, and for a moment, felt a flicker of panic, n
ot knowing if it would hurt or not, having heard that it could go either way. She felt a mild irritation when she realized that he had ripped her new Vera Wang blouse but quickly forgot about it when his kisses trailed down her neck to her breasts. He started fumbling with the button on her jeans even as she was pulling his shirt over his head, the panic going away as the desire became overwhelming, consuming her with heat and a need that was alien to her. Feeling as strongly as Dylan felt, she pushed his hands away to shed her pants more quickly, Dylan, taking her cue, did the same with his own.
She still had her bra on, pulled down below her breasts when he entered her and she was surprised that there was no sharp pain, just a fullness that she had never experienced before. When she didn’t cry out, Dylan started thrusting slowly then more frantically, as if he couldn’t control himself. She experimented with moving her hips, adjusting his position on top of her, finding a rhythm that was soon carrying both of them to a growing ecstasy. Dylan was moaning and panting, alternating from kissing her neck to sucking on her ear lobe.
She opened her eyes to look at Dylan’s face when she saw something dart from his closet to a dark corner of his room. Her eyes widened and quickly focused on the shadows in the corner, hoping that she hadn’t seen the beast, but a ripple of movement in the murky corner confirmed her fears.
“Oh God! Oh God! Please! Please! Please!” She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping by sheer will that she could send it back to the shadows.
“I know baby, I know. It’s incredible, isn’t it? You feel so good, Tabitha!” Dylan cooed, oblivious to her current point of focus. She slowly opened her eyes, fearfully looking towards the dark corner when she saw a tail slither under their bed. Before she could say word, the beast crawled over the foot of the bed towards them. She was paralyzed with fear, her eyes frozen open unable to tear her gaze away from the monstrous face. It was large, about the size of a Labrador and it was all muscle, teeth and claws. Beady black eyes appeared sunken into eye sockets that were lined with hairless, leathery tissue. She gasped as she saw its claws run down Dylan’s back.
Shadows Page 1
