Shadows and Ruins

by Denise A. Agnew

  hell had happened here? Why had their lovemaking changed everything and how

  could something so wonderful scare her away from him?

  Fucking hell. I've gone and done it. Got emotionally attached to her. Fuck it all, I shouldn't

  have.

  He wanted to pull her against him, bring her to her senses with unrestrained kisses

  that would force her to see how much he wanted her.

  He could taste the words on his lips. Should he tell her? Confess all?

  If he did she would throw it back in his face, or pity him.

  Instead, he hardened his features, forcing back the desire to do something he'd

  never considered in his life. Get down on his knees and act like a fool. Years of training

  that had made him a consummate agent kicked into action. He could play it cold and

  calm if that's what she wanted. He jammed his anger and his pain down where they

  belonged with the memories of the past, hidden behind the ice that found a place, quite

  suddenly, around his heart.

  "Fine," he said. "Do what you want."

  With a calm that chilled his bones, Emma turned and left the room. Several

  moments later he heard the front door open and close. When he heard her Explorer

  start and the sound of the vehicle leaving, he sat down on the bed and closed his eyes.

  Slowly he leaned his elbows on his knees, and when the ache rose up to choke him, he

  put his head in his hands and took a deep, shuddering breath.

  * * *

  Chapter Fifteen

  Someone's following me.

  Emma realized that the dark blue sedan had trailed her since sometime after she'd

  left Shane's ranch. Not close, but near enough she knew they didn't drive in the same

  direction out of coincidence.

  The steady thump, thump, thump of her blood pulsed in her ears and her breath

  shortened. Not only had her encounter with Shane rattled her down to the bone, now

  she must contend with a sinister presence following her.

  Five years ago, the man had taken her.

  Five years ago, her world had collapsed into full terror and understanding of true

  evil.

  A shivering breath left her throat as she tried to halt the whirlwind of fear swirling

  inside her.

  She turned the corner, left the wide four-lane strip into Gambit Creek and went east

  a couple of blocks until she encountered Main Street. The sedan tagged along.

  She took deep breaths to stem the panic that threatened around the corner. She

  could return to the hotel. She'd checked in earlier, but then, restless and hungry, she'd

  decided to take a drive.

  She hadn't driven around long, but evening pressed over the mountains, daring her

  to make a rush for the hotel before night turned the familiar into the unknown. In the

  San Juan Mountains the dark shrouded like a cloak. Fugitives could hide in the

  mountains, among the trees, and never be detected. Part of her wanted to do the same.

  Hide. Hide. Hide. Hadn't she been doing that all her life?

  Doug's sing-song voice ran amuck in her head, torturing her with memories of a

  past she'd buried deep until she came to Gambit Creek.

  Mom and Dad have always liked me better than you. Better than you. Better than you.

  Thinking about Doug took her mind off the car stalking her and she came to the red

  light at the corner that would lead her back onto the main strip. Glancing back in the

  rearview mirror, she noted the sedan stayed two cars back.

  Once she turned right onto the four-lane street, she sped up as much as she dared,

  moving in and out between cars. The blue sedan caught up but remained with at least

  two vehicles between.

  Maybe she imagined it followed her. With what happened to her on Thursday and

  with Clement's accident, it was easy to assume many things. Clement's car accident

  might not be anything more than a hit and run with no connection to the attack on her

  or the site ransacking.

  When she'd left Shane's house she'd almost headed to the site to examine it one

  more time before she washed her hands of the entire excavation. Common sense took

  hold though, and she left the ranch area quickly.

  Shane.

  A million pictures of him filled her mind. His sardonic smile. The way his eyes

  heated when he meant to kiss her. The bold, relentless touch of his hands along her

  body, his lips tasting her breasts…

  No man had ever affected her like Shane.

  Tears spilled over her lashes, but she let them rain down. She glanced in the

  rearview mirror. The sedan stayed a car behind. She needed to find somewhere

  crowded. She headed straight for The Golden Brand. Saturday night meant a busy

  crowd where she might be safe.

  Emma wiped tears from her cheeks as she located a parking spot at the restaurant.

  She glanced around to see if the vehicle followed her but didn't spy it anywhere. She

  kept the engine running, ready for a quick escape should the car appear. No car in sight.

  She calmed. Maybe the car hadn't been following her in the first place.

  Shutting off the engine, she sat without moving, staring into the sky above the

  mountaintops. She opened the window a crack to let in fresh air. She'd head for the

  police department and see if they'd made any progress on Grant and what happened to

  her at Grant's RV.

  When she drove from the parking lot she quickly scanned the area for the sedan.

  No sign of it. Relieved, she headed for the police department a couple of blocks away,

  an unimposing, white stucco, one-story building.

  The young officer at the front desk told her Officer Reddins had the day off, so she

  asked for Officer Mick Johnson. About five minutes later he arrived at the front desk.

  He wore a dark T-shirt and jeans.

  "You caught me just as I was leaving," he said with a smile. "What can I do for

  you?"

  "I wanted to know if there was any progress on Grant's disappearance."

  Johnson shook his head. "None." He looked around the small entry area and

  gestured to a couple of chairs on one side of the room. "Why don't we sit down?"

  She complied and he took the chair next to her.

  "Grant's been missing since Thursday and I don't think he's off in a huff," she said.

  "You told Officer Reddins he's hot-tempered, right?"

  "Yes."

  "And he didn't give you any hint he was leaving the area?"

  "No. He would have taken his RV if he'd decided to leave for good." She shifted on

  the hard plastic chair as it dug into her back. "Something must have happened to him."

  "If you want, we can go ahead with the missing person's paperwork."

  She nodded and he led the way to the back offices. As she followed him, she noted

  the calm atmosphere. One man sat at his desk reading a magazine, and the hush over

  the office contrasted with the constant chatter and ringing of phones she'd seen in

  police dramas on television.

  "I'm sorry," she said as she sat at the officer's small desk.

  He slid behind the desk, easily squeezing his slim body behind an area barely large

  enough to fit a grown man. "Sorry about what?"

  "You're off-duty."

  He grinned. "No problem. Truth is, a cop is always on duty."

  He cast a glance over at another empty desk and she thought she saw a ripple of

  anger cross his face when he looked at the desk. She glanced ov
er at the nameplate.

  Hank Reddins.

  "Crime is low in Gambit Creek?" she asked to stimulate friendly conversation and

  wipe the frown from the young man's face.

  He nodded and leaned forward slightly. "For the most part. I'd say the odd

  poacher, a robbery, malicious mischief…that sort of thing. I'd hate to work in the

  sheriff's office though. They have hundreds and hundreds of miles to cover. Little

  Gambit Creek is a cinch. In fact, what's happened at your archaeology site is about the

  most interesting case we've had in a long time."

  The eagerness in his voice reminded her of a young boy anxious to play a new

  video game.

  "You mean the attack on me and Clement O'Donnell's accident?"

  He shrugged his shoulders. "All of it is interesting police work."

  She answered Johnson's questions as he clacked away at the computer. After she'd

  signed the report, she rose to leave. He retrieved his jacket and accompanied her to the

  front door.

  "By the way, how's the excavation going?" he asked as they stepped through the

  glass front doors and headed down the steps.

  "It's not. Going that is. I'm not doing any excavating right now."

  He nodded, stopping at the bottom of the stairs. "That's understandable. You must

  be worried about Mr. Wilder."

  "Yes." She glanced around and noticed the sedan, across the street, in a half-

  deserted grocery store parking lot. Misgiving wormed deep into her stomach. She

  didn't see anyone in the car. "Officer Johnson, do you recognize that blue car in the

  grocery store lot?"

  He looked in the direction she pointed. After staring at the vehicle for several

  seconds, acknowledgment came into his eyes. "Yeah, that's Officer Reddins' car. Why?"

  * * * * *

  The woman was trouble. He'd known it from the beginning. Watching her from the

  shadows, the short man took the chance she might see him. She suspected something

  wasn't right, but he didn't care. She wouldn't understand, couldn't fathom the danger

  she'd placed herself in working on the foolish dig.

  And Shane O'Donnell hadn't stopped her, even though he understood more than

  most what lurked in the darkness of Sadie Cutley's mine. No, he'd allowed lust, the

  same lust that gnawed at himself, to eat away at his duty.

  Well, that works just fine for me.

  As long as O'Donnell continued to fail, it would serve the Shadow Realm and all

  those within it.

  The short man sighed in satisfaction. As he watched her glancing nervously at

  every corner, assessing the peril, he found her fear tasty. Delicious, as a matter of fact.

  He fed on the fear, enjoyed it down to the last cell that made up his sentient being. He

  looked forward to the moment his lust could emerge in full bloom, when he became all

  the man he should be in this earthly plane outside the Shadow Realm. He would reveal

  his powers, his true self when she thought she was safe, when she believed nothing bad

  could happen to her again. Few women gave him trouble, but they didn't know what

  hit them until way too late. He found that gratifying, the way a lion finds a daily kill an

  automatic and primal requirement for survival.

  He turned away from her searching gaze that looked right through him, happy in

  the cloaking that kept her ignorant of just how close he'd come to her. He smiled and

  faded into the growing shadows along the town alleyways.

  * * * * *

  Shane's truck barreled toward Gambit Creek. Anxiety and determination warred in

  his stomach and made him queasy.

  One thought dominated his mind.

  He should have never let Emma leave him. Right now, at this very minute, danger

  probably stalked her. He was positively out of his fuckin' mind. Instead of reacting the

  way an agent should, he'd allowed other more mushy emotions to get in his way.

  His blood pressure surged and he took deep breaths as the muscles in his neck

  coiled with painful tautness. He rubbed his neck, willing the tension to dissipate. What

  he needed was a massage.

  A nice, warm, sweet massage from the soft hands of Emma Baker. He'd vowed to

  forget her the moment she'd walked out of his door, but he couldn't. After he'd allowed

  angry tears to enter his eyes, he'd taken a cold shower, shocking himself back into

  reality. He'd never cried over a woman before Emma, and she had him tied up in knots.

  Oh, hell.

  Fear and anxiety slammed into him like a bullet. He'd felt like his guts had been

  torn out when she'd left.

  I am not falling for her.

  Love and steady relationships hadn't worked for him in the past, didn't work for

  him as an agent for the Special Investigations Agency. Sappy emotions interfered with

  an agent's work. He could protect Emma, could make sure she survived whatever evil

  dominated the site. That was all.

  Despite his convictions, Shane knew, as surely as he knew the sun rose each

  morning, that her absence left an ache in his heart a mile wide. Sharp and stinging,

  reality expanded like a balloon, choking him with the intensity. He couldn't remember

  when he'd felt anything as excruciating as her rejection.

  Picturing her sad, almost haggard expression as she'd put on her clothes, he found

  it amazing she was the same woman who'd arched against him, her face flushed, her

  lips parted as she'd writhed in orgasm. Vividly he remembered her hot, tight pussy

  contracting over his cock as she'd gasped and screamed. Coming inside her, hot skin to

  hot skin, had been one of the most exciting things he'd experienced.

  The more he raged, the more he denied it, the more powerful his feelings became.

  Whatever her feelings toward him, whether she wanted his help or not, he would keep

  her safe one way or another. If anything happened to her—

  "Fucking hell," he mumbled.

  He had to find her and convince her not to go to Denver. Intuition ate at him.

  Common sense said if she left Gambit Creek, she'd be safe. Yet he didn't believe it.

  If he had to drop his pride entirely he'd beg her to stay. He grabbed his I-Doc and

  dialed the one number at SIA he hadn't used in a long time. The number rang and rang.

  Finally the line picked up.

  "Mac Tudor," the man said, his deep voice rumbling over the phone into Shane's

  ear.

  "It's about damn time," Shane said as angry heat rose in his face. "SIA has never

  been as slow as a turtle wading through mud. Good thing it wasn't a damned

  emergency situation."

  "Then you wouldn't have called me, would you?" Tudor's voice lowered, patience

  in every word. "How are you, Shane? Long time no speak."

  Mac Tudor always did know how to keep a situation calm, even when an agent

  came unglued. Shane wanted to curse again, mad enough to bite the head off a shark.

  He took a deep breath then realized he'd gone way over the top. Shit, he needed to

  regain control. Mac was a superior—talking to him like this was considered

  inexcusable. Fortunately for Shane, Mac had once been just an agent and understood

  the rigors of the job.

  "Shane? You there?"

  "Yeah, I'm here. Look, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have bitten your head off."

  Mac chuckled. "I figured you'd be unhappy when Dorky called to inform you

  about your reinstatem
ent. I would have contacted you, but we've been busy as hell

  here. How are you?"

  "Not so good. Look, Mac, I never wanted this job in the first place, and now the

  stakes are getting too high."

  "You want out?" Tudor's voice remained steady, sounding unconcerned.

  "No. Emma Baker needs me. I can't let her fend for herself. I want more help down

  here. I can't do this alone. I need help protecting her."

  "I thought you were keeping track of her."

  "I was. She's decided she doesn't want my assistance."

  A long silence stretched, and Shane wondered for a moment if Mac was still on the

  line. "Damn you, O'Donnell, you didn't tell her about SIA?"

  Mac's voice held a definite rough edge.

  Without hesitation, Shane could say, "I told her about the agency but not what it

  was called."

  Mac expelled a deep breath. "Good."

  "If I can't convince her she needs to stay with me, I need a tail, someone who can

  watch her without her knowing it. If she catches sight of me she'll bolt. If anything

  happens to her, I swear I'll be in the SIA's face so fast, the agency won't know what

  happened."

  Shane realized that he'd practically shouted into the phone, and he felt the pulse of

  his blood and adrenaline moving through him at high speed.

  "Ease down, Shane. I'm not your enemy."

  "Yeah, I know."

  Mac cleared his throat. "Have you got proof she and Wilder are stealing artifacts or

  are aware of the paranormal properties of the land?"

  "She's innocent. My vote is still out on Wilder. My guess is that he's dead or has

  skipped town with whatever trinket he found at the excavation."

  "A trinket would hardly be worth skipping town when there might be more

  valuable artifacts."

  "Yeah, well he might have been one of the people who ruined her trench."

  "The police haven't found anything?"

  "Not a damn thing."

  "We don't have another agent we can put on the situation. You'll need to do the job

  until we can free someone."

  Yeah. He'd done the job all right. Maybe if he'd kept his hands off her and offered

  her nothing but protection she wouldn't have run. Another wave of pain echoed from