Out of the Shadows

by Tiffany Snow

  “What are you doing?” I asked. “I thought you were just biding your time before you ran off at your first opportunity.”

  He gave me a sheepish grin and shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s kind of like a movie, you know? An adventure. When else am I going to have the chance to help a spy, save a damsel in distress, and play undercover agent? So long as Devon doesn’t, you know, like kill anyone, I want to do what I can to help you.”

  I just shook my head. John was young and naïve, though he was older than me by a couple of years. He acted like this was a game, when I knew from hard experience it was anything but. I’d seen people die in horrible ways in the life Devon led. And people around him tended to end up hurt or dead, too. Even me.

  I was tired so I didn’t protest being left behind. The headache was throbbing again and I let Devon pull a blanket over me as I lay down on the hotel bed.

  “We’ll be back soon,” he said, brushing a kiss to my forehead. He looked worried so I tried to reassure him.

  “I’ll be fine,” I said. “A nap will do me a world of good, I’m sure.”

  Devon’s smile looked forced, but at least he’d made the effort. I watched as he and John left the room.

  I dozed for a while, on and off, as the morning sunlight streaming through the window gradually shifted into early evening shadows. Getting up, I brushed my teeth and hair before going to the windows to look at the setting sun. There was a terrace and a chair, so I grabbed my sunglasses and went to sit outside. Vitamin D could cure anything—that and hard work—or so my grandpa had always said.

  A sedan pulled into the parking lot and I watched idly as it parked and two people got out—a man and a woman. The woman seemed vaguely familiar, which caught my attention even more. We weren’t terribly high up, but too high for me to really see her properly.

  She walked a few steps apart from the man, heading toward the entrance. Perhaps she felt my eyes on her because she glanced up.

  Vega.

  She was here, and somehow I doubted it was for a vacation.

  Lifting her arm, she pointed at me, speaking to the man beside her, who looked up, too. I had no idea how she knew where we were, but there was no mistaking it. Vega had found me.

  I wasted no time, jumping up from the chair and rushing into the room. I shoved my feet into my tennis shoes and hit the door running. But where to run?

  The hotel wasn’t big, but was rather one of those smaller boutique hotels. Which meant only two elevators and one set of stairs. If she knew I was running, she’d guess I’d take the stairs, so I went for the elevators.

  Waiting was excruciating, and when the elevator finally dinged, I thought I might hyperventilate before the doors opened. I held my breath, and to my relief, the car was empty. I dashed inside and jabbed the button for the lobby. The ancient doors slid closed as though powered by glaciers, and I wanted to gnash my teeth in frustration.

  It stopped at a lower floor and I had to wait as a family stepped on—a man, woman, and three children. The two youngest were fighting with each other and I moved over to make more room for them in the small space. The mom sent me an apologetic look that I didn’t acknowledge.

  The elevator lumbered on in its descent and I tried to calm down. My heart was racing and my headache pounding. When the doors slid open again on yet another floor, I bit back a scream of frustration. Then Vega stepped in.

  Her eyes met mine immediately, then she glanced away, sidling alongside the man and woman who were still messing with their kids. I held my breath, waiting, as the door began to close. At the last second, I dashed through them and they closed behind me. I let out the air I was holding, relieved that the elevators were too old to have sensors that would’ve made the doors spring open again.

  I was on the third floor, so I turned and ran for the stairwell. Panic dogged my heels. If they caught me, I had no doubts that I’d end up dead. Or worse.

  My lungs were working overtime, sucking in air and making my chest hurt. I wasn’t in the best of shape, true, but it was unusual. Ignoring the pain, I shoved open the door and hit the stairs at a dead run.

  There were only three flights but they felt like twenty, and when I turned the last corner for the final flight, I skidded to a halt, nearly tripping over the top step.

  Vega’s partner stood waiting at the foot of the stairs. He smiled up at me.

  “Going somewhere?”

  Instinctively, I turned and started climbing. I could hear his steps hitting the stairs behind me, taking them two at a time, but I was struggling to breathe and knew I wouldn’t be fast enough. Not this time.

  He grabbed my arm just as I pulled open the door to the second floor . . . and looked right up into Devon’s face.

  “Duck.”

  I obeyed immediately, feeling the rush of air above my head and hearing the crunch of bone on bone as Devon’s fist shot out, taking the man by surprise. It knocked him backward and he stumbled, losing his footing, and crashed down the stairs. He slid to a stop on the landing, but didn’t get up.

  Devon pulled me up and into his arms, the door swinging shut behind me. “Are you hurt?”

  I shook my head, too out of breath and wheezing to actually speak.

  “Devon!”

  We both turned at the call from down the hallway. It was Vega, standing maybe fifty feet away, pointing a gun at us.

  Everything froze in that moment. She had a clear shot at us both. Devon’s arms were around me, helping to keep me upright when my legs felt like Jell-O. I felt Devon’s entire body stiffen and curve around me, as though to protect me from a blow. But nothing happened. Vega didn’t pull the trigger as we stood, waiting for the hammer to fall. She stared at Devon, unblinking, with an expression on her face I couldn’t decipher.

  Then the moment was over and Devon was shoving me through the stairwell doorway and half carrying me down the stairs. We stepped over the man, still unconscious, and faster than I could’ve gone myself, we were into the lobby and striding across the marble entry. Well, Devon was striding. My feet barely touched the floor as he carried most of my weight.

  I clung to him the best I could, saw him nod at the doorman, and he didn’t even break stride as John pulled to a halt in the SUV right in front of us. He had the back door open, stuffed me inside, and followed me before the vehicle had come to a complete halt.

  “Go!”

  He pulled the door shut as John stepped on the gas and I heard the sound of the tires squealing on the pavement.

  “Just breathe, darling,” Devon said, pulling me across his lap. “Look at me, and just breathe.”

  I focused on his eyes, so clear a blue they rivaled the sky on a midsummer’s day. My lungs felt constricted, as though I wore a band wrapped around my middle. Air strangled in my throat.

  Devon smoothed my hair back from my forehead and the touch of his skin against mine helped to calm me.

  “Shh,” he said softly. “Just breathe. In . . . and out.”

  It took a few minutes of desperate focus, but finally I was able to catch my breath. It was a relief not to be gasping for air any longer.

  “Is she all right?” John asked from the front seat.

  “I think so,” Devon replied.

  “Help me up,” I said, struggling to sit up from his lap.

  “Take it easy.” But he helped me anyway, until I sat with my back against the seat. I felt as though I’d run a marathon.

  “I’m okay,” I said, my voice a weak rasp in my chest. “What happened? How did you know they were there?”

  “I saw Wesley go into the stairwell,” he said.

  “You saw who?”

  “Wesley,” Devon repeated. “He’s a Shadow agent. Rather new, actually. I saw him and knew Vega had to be here. I was heading for the stairs to get to you when you so opportunistically showed up.”

  “I was lucky enough to see them arrive,” I said. “But that still doesn’t explain how they found us.”

  Devon’s face clouded.
“You’re right. It doesn’t.”

  I was shaky and weak from the unexpected run for my life. The adrenaline was all used up, leaving me a wreck in its aftermath. My hands shook and I didn’t want to talk anymore, still focusing on breathing in and out and how close of a call we’d just had.

  John drove us to another hotel, and I was glad to be able to lie down again. Devon joined me in one of the two beds, pulling me into his arms. His expression was hard to read, but the way he touched me was infinitely gentle.

  John took the other bed and was out in minutes. I could feel when Devon’s body relaxed into slumber, too, though I remained awake, trying to figure out how Vega had known exactly where to find me.

  Devon had an internal alarm clock that would wake him up at whatever time he chose. It was an amazing ability and it didn’t fail no matter how tired he was. Tonight, he woke at ten o’clock, rousing me as well, as he stirred and sat up.

  John was still snoring and I tugged at Devon’s shirt with a slight pout. I didn’t want to wake up and face the horrible reality. It was preferable to remain asleep, locked in his arms. But Devon didn’t acquiesce. He took my hand, kissed the knuckles, and stood before heading into the bathroom.

  I felt better and could breathe easier, but the headache still throbbed. I heard the shower start and glanced at John, still snoring like there was no tomorrow. Sliding out of bed, I went to the bathroom and eased the door open. Devon was already in the shower so I went inside the bathroom and quietly shut the door.

  Shucking my clothes, I pulled back the curtain and stepped in behind Devon. He turned his head, water dripping from his hair into his eyes, and his gaze pierced me.

  He’d been thinking about me, I could tell. His eyes were somewhat bloodshot and for this brief moment, naked pain was written on his face.

  I stepped forward, my hand resting on his shoulder. He slid his arms around my waist and pulled me into him. Skin against skin, we stood there under the warm spray of water. I rested my head against his chest and listened to the beat of his heart. The feel of his arms surrounding me gave me the strength to breathe deep and relax. If my time was as limited as I believed it was, then this was exactly where I wanted to be.

  We didn’t speak, but then again, we didn’t have to. Devon wasn’t a man who said a lot of flowery things. He was much more a man of action. So I wasn’t waiting for declarations of love or devotion. It was enough to feel the tight way he held me, his breath against my skin, and the touch of his lips to my forehead.

  Naked bodies sliding together is sure to elicit a response from any man, and Devon was no exception. His erection pressed against my stomach, prompting heat to bloom between my legs. I lifted my face toward his, an unspoken request for a kiss. He obliged, his lips sweetly brushing mine.

  I deepened the kiss, moving even closer. I needed to feel the way only Devon could make me feel: wanted and alive. Reaching down, I grasped the hard length of him.

  “No,” he murmured, brushing my hand aside. “You’re ill.”

  Grabbing his hand, I spread my legs and pressed his palm to the heat between my thighs. “I’m fine at the moment, and I need you.”

  He needed no further encouragement to slip his fingers between my folds. My body was hotter than the water sluicing over us and he groaned, sliding a thick finger inside me. I clung to him, our mouths colliding in a fierce hunger that I felt down to my toes.

  Suddenly he was gone. My eyes flew open to see he’d dropped to his knees in front of me, the spray from the water hitting his back. I had the brief thought that the hard surface of the tub could not possibly feel good on his knees, but then his mouth was between my legs and my brain shut down.

  His hands palmed my ass, pulling me closer and helping hold me upright as my knees weakened. The hot slide of his tongue made me gasp, my nails digging into his shoulders. He played with my clit, lightly stroking the flesh before sucking it into his mouth.

  I bit my lip to keep from groaning aloud, viscerally aware that we weren’t alone in the hotel room. Then he added a finger inside me and I gave up trying to be quiet.

  Devon knew my body better than I did and he took me to the brink and kept me there until I was begging him in gasps and pleas. He sucked hard at my clit, his finger curved inside me, pressing, and I came in a blinding rush of spasms that left me boneless. My heart was pounding as I finally pried open my eyes, aftershocks still washing over me.

  He slowly lifted me off my feet. I arched against him, sighing when his cock pushed inside, stretching and filling me. My legs went around his waist and my back pressed against the wall. I squeaked as the cold tile touched my skin.

  He froze. “Did I hurt you?” he asked, slightly anxious.

  “No,” I said with a little laugh. “It’s just cold.”

  He relaxed. “Ah, the complexities of making love in the shower,” he said, his lips curving in a soft smile. “I’d take you to bed, but I doubt you’d enjoy an audience.”

  “Not really, no,” I said. “It’s fine. Just don’t slip.”

  His lips met mine. “No worries, darling,” he murmured. “I’ve got you.”

  The water had steamed and heated the room to such an extent that although none of the spray reached me, I wasn’t shivering. And with Devon pressed against me, I was plenty warm.

  His arms supported my weight easily as he began to move. We kissed, lips and tongues meeting in a wet heat, then he pulled back and gazed into my eyes. Devon liked to watch me when he made love to me, his eyes seemed to see right through to my soul. His body claimed mine, possessing me completely.

  The friction of his cock had my body coiling inside for another release. I threaded my fingers through his hair, curving my hand around the back of his neck and pulling him down to kiss me. His fingers bit into my flesh, but I didn’t care. Cries erupted from the back of my throat as my orgasm overtook me. Devon’s body rocked hard into mine, his cock emptying inside me as I held on, my legs locked around him.

  Devon pulled back slightly as he sucked in air. His forehead rested against mine and the warmth of his breath brushed my cheek. Our hearts beat nearly in sync and I stretched up to hold him as close as I possibly could. Tears stung my eyes, but I blinked them away, determined not to ruin this moment.

  He took a step, separating his body from mine, and I mourned the loss. My legs felt rubbery when I put my feet on the floor, but other than that, I felt pretty darn good.

  Devon washed my body with leisurely ease, massaging my shoulders and back, and caressing every inch of me. It was one of those things—actions, not words—that told me what he was feeling. It was in the gentleness of his touch, the care he took with every movement. He even washed my hair, his hands sifting through the now-shortened strands.

  Finally, we emerged from the bathroom. I was wrapped in a towel and another was tied around Devon’s hips. He shook John awake.

  “Time to get up, mate.”

  John was immediately alert, which struck me as odd until I remembered he was an ER doctor. They notoriously had to sleep while on the run, then be up at a moment’s notice for a life-and-death situation. He got up and disappeared into the bathroom without a word.

  I took the opportunity to get dressed. Devon and I didn’t speak. The pall over us was almost tangible.

  “John may find something that will help,” I said. “Scott could be wrong.” It was a long shot, but I felt like I had to hold on to some kind of hope.

  “Perhaps,” was all Devon said.

  Both Devon and John dressed in scrubs and I didn’t ask where they’d gotten them. It was after midnight when we went out to the car.

  “It’ll be easier to sneak in for what we need at this hour,” John explained. “Radiology should be deserted.”

  “Why do we need to go to radiology?” I asked. “Why is an MRI so important? The virus is in my blood.”

  “The nosebleeds worry me,” John said. “There’s not a lot of reasons your nose would bleed, and none of them are good.�
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  Devon’s hands tightened on the steering wheel and I winced at John’s bluntness. But I’d rather know the truth than have it sugar-coated for me. And there was only one way to know the truth.

  Miami was a busy city no matter the time of day or night and the hospital was no exception, though the type of patients we saw as we passed through the ER were perhaps a bit more unusual than what I’d seen in Kansas. I saw a man dressed as a woman, and not doing a very convincing job of it; two men sitting side by side, each nursing bruised and bloodied faces; a woman with a baby and a toddler, the toddler running around the room while the mom just looked tired and resigned. There were more people there, but Devon and John walked through the waiting room pretty quickly, and I didn’t make eye contact with any of the prospective patients.

  “This way,” John said, sliding through a swinging doorway that led into the bowels of the hospital. In minutes, we’d left most of the crowd behind and the hallways grew emptier. We were following the signs to Radiology.

  I was tense, wondering how this was going to go down. In a hospital this size, I imagined someone would still be working in the department even at this hour. And I was right.

  John drew to a halt a few yards away from an open doorway. I could hear someone moving about inside the room and the quiet whir of machines.

  “You promised no casualties,” John said, in an undertone to Devon.

  “I know what I said,” Devon replied. “Though I didn’t promise. I don’t make promises I may not be able to keep.”

  John’s lips pressed together in a thin line. “We’re here to help Ivy. Killing the radiologist would be a bad idea.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Devon’s dry reply had a ghost of a smile flit across my lips.

  “Give me thirty seconds,” he said to John before walking down the hall and into the room.

  John and I stood, silent and tense, waiting. He glanced down at me.

  “Thirty seconds? Really?” he asked me. “He seems pretty confident.” He was teasing, and I could tell he wanted to ease my fear and worry. It didn’t work, but I appreciated the effort.