Shadowed Lover

by Lauren Dawes

  Tom dropped Luce to the ground and gestured for her. “Come on then. Show me that you’re worth my time.”

  She bobbed her head, turning to find Leesa staring at her with wide eyes. Katie shook her head, letting her know it was okay, that this was her choice, but somehow, that didn’t stop the pain from spearing through her. She was about to lose her virginity to a human man who had captured and tortured not just females of her species, but also humans, for apparently no good reason.

  Walking stiffly, she kept her chin up and stepped through the door. As she passed the front of the cell, Luce was at the cage’s side, reaching out to her. Their fingers brushed and, Katie shut the door in her mind that contained all her emotions. She couldn’t feel this. She couldn’t harbor this memory. She didn’t want it, so she was going to lock up everything that was good and put it in a box in the back of her mind where nobody else could touch it. She would survive this, and she would recover.

  Because she had to.

  Because she made a promise to a little girl who wanted to return to her brother.

  Because she could shield a female from the horrors of this world.

  Willingly.

  37

  Drake woke with a start, the pain ripping through his chest the only thing that could be responsible for the cold-cocked wake-up call.

  “Neve,” he croaked, his eyes wide as he looked around the strange room with a water-stained ceiling. The whole place smelled of disinfectant and mold, old cigarette smoke and stale sex. His cat shifted uneasily beneath his skin. Being injured and in a strange place would make his jaguar pricklier than usual. He couldn’t afford to be left defenseless and weak, though. A sheet fell off his arm as he lifted it. He winced as his shoulder let out a scream—he didn’t even know when he’d hurt it—but he felt his way along the bandage across the front of his throat. Tearing it off, he ran his fingertips over the neat stitches there.

  “Drake, stop. You need to leave them alone. Jesus.” Neve pulled his hand away, and her cool touch was on his skin, smoothing the non-stick bandage back into place.

  He blinked rapidly, unable to believe what he was seeing. “I thought I lost you,” he whispered reverently, reaching up to touch her face. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

  “Shhh,” she said softly, leaning into his palm. The mattress dipped, accompanied by the crackle of plastic. He inhaled, taking in her natural jasmine scent—a scent that was layered in blood. At least not all of it was hers—a lot of it belonged to Lewis. If she was sitting here, it had to mean that the bastard was dead.

  “I’m fine.” Her voice was just a whisper, but there were shadows in her eyes. He would give anything to take them away from her. Anything.

  “How…” His mouth felt like it was stuck to the roof of his mouth. Swallowing, he tried again. “How are Sasha and Mateo?”

  Neve glanced over her shoulder, her head tilting to the side as if she was listening. “Mateo’s fine. He had to re-break Sasha’s leg. Sasha…she’s resting.”

  There was something in her expression…

  “What is it?”

  She rubbed her chest, grimacing. “When we re-broke her leg, I felt her pain like someone had shoved a dagger through my heart.”

  He sucked in a breath and let it out slowly through his nose. “It’s the bond, Neve.”

  It had worked. Initiating the blood exchange had been a ballsy move, but one that had been driven by desperation and the desire to know that she would be all right, that she would survive. By doing so, he made sure the strength of his Shadows bolstered her and kept her going.

  “How are you feeling about that?”

  “You mean do I hate you for doing it without my consent?” she shot back. Relief washed through him when she shook her head. “No. I don’t hate you. I understand why you did it. I just wish it could’ve been under different circumstances.”

  He brought her hand to his mouth, kissing her palm. “I know, sweetheart.”

  She rubbed at her chest, clearly still remembering the severity of Sasha’s pain. “Are the…” She hesitated. “Are the sensations always so strong?”

  He nodded. “For me, yes. When my team and I were assigned together, they swore a blood oath to me. I can feel them, but they can’t feel me like you can.”

  “Makes sense. Mateo wasn’t affected like I was,” she murmured. With her head bowed, she asked, “And the colored cords?”

  He kept the surprise from his face. He wasn’t expecting that to transfer to her, too. “It’s my connection to them. Since we’re now connected, it makes sense that you can see them in the same way I do.” He kissed her hand again, lingering there to inhale her scent. “Tell me what happened after I passed out. I need to know everything.”

  Her slender shoulders rose and fell in a shallow shrug before she unloaded the story on him. He listened in stunned silence as she told him how she’d fought Lewis, killed him, then got all of them out of there. Not only that, but she’d had the strength to go back into the house to collect her dead parents, which could have cost her and Mateo’s lives, had they not gotten out of there before the blast. By the time she was done, his forearms ached with how tightly he was squeezing his free hand into a fist.

  He could’ve lost her.

  “Your cat spoke to me.”

  He stilled. “Oh?”

  “In the back of the car. He asked if I got my parents out.”

  “He was worried about you. We both were.”

  She nodded, but stayed quiet. To stop himself from thinking about his cat coming out so far, he cleared his throat and asked, “Where’s Mateo?”

  “Here, boss,” came his tired reply from somewhere across the room. Tilting his head up, he sucked in a hiss when the stitches on his throat pinched. Mateo came forward and touched him on the foot with his right hand. The aches and pains in his body washed away a few moments later, but the pain from deep tissue injuries still lingered.

  “Have you called Grayson?”

  Mateo pulled away and went to lean against the wall, folding his arms. The male looked worn out, like he was soul weary rather than just sleep-deprived.

  “Not yet. I was waiting for you to wake up first. What do you want me to tell him?”

  “Tell him we’re returning home with the Leo and his mate. Tell him to have Doc Winchester there with an ambulance. Tell him…” Everything has changed. “Tell him whatever happened in California has destroyed the structure of the prides. We need to be ready for the blowback.”

  “Got it.”

  The question now was, what was the blowback, and how did all these events and pieces fit together? Each and every pride was a rudderless ship lost in a tempest without their Leos and captains of the Shadows. Add to that the stress of females disappearing, and he was left with no doubt in his mind that the two incidents were connected.

  Where is everyone?

  Drake paused, tilting his head a little to the side. “In here, Sash,” he called out, turning when Mateo made a strange noise.

  “How did you…” He glanced at Sasha, who hobbled into the room. She hissed at Mateo before coming to sit on the ground at the foot of the bed. Mateo looked back at Drake. “The bond,” he breathed. “When did you complete it?”

  He rubbed his thumb over Neve’s knuckles, more to soothe himself than her. “When I was bleeding out on the floor.”

  The other male’s face lit up with recognition and a smile. “Oh, was that when I was trying to stuff my intestines back into place?”

  Drake grunted, then said, “Since I assume you’re no longer trying to jam your intestinal tract back into your abdomen, are you feeling up to getting us all some food? Sash will need the calories to help her heal.”

  "I saw a fast food joint a few miles up the road,” Mateo replied, sounding a little miffed about being sent as an errand boy. “I’ll be back in about twenty.”

  The other male slid from the room silently, like the Shadow he was.

  “I need to take a shower befo
re we eat,” Neve announced, getting up. She glanced back at the bathroom then said, “I’ll use the one in the other room.”

  He nodded, watching her go like he was never going to see her again. He guessed he could blame it on the bond. She was his mate, and he would protect her at all costs.

  Turning his attention back to Sasha, he asked, “How long have we been here?”

  Maybe an hour, she replied, her internal voice sounding so different to the one he was used to listening to with his ears. He realized it was probably because the cat was more in control in this form, and he sensed that she wasn’t as morose as the human.

  “Is the pain bad?”

  She shook her boxy feline head. It’s nothing I haven’t endured before.

  “Did you know?” It was weird having a conversation with someone lying flat on his back. He couldn’t even see Sasha to judge her expressions, even if they were more feline. When she said nothing, he added, “Did you know that was going to happen?”

  I saw your death, she replied softly. I never saw Neve’s—that’s how I knew she had to go with you.

  Jesus. “What about our bond, hers and mine?”

  It’s fragile, but I feel it. She’s bound to us in the same way as we are to you. You did the right thing.

  Can you hear me now, Sasha? He sent the mental message cautiously. He was used to seeing inside people’s heads, to listening and twisting memories when necessary, but he’d never spoken to someone like this.

  Sasha sighed. I can hear you, but it’s faint. Your bonding abilities will continue to grow, but like your bond, you have to give it time.

  “Do the same rules apply to the faster shifts and extra strength?”

  I think so. She hesitated. But I don’t know for sure.

  * * *

  About the same time Mateo returned with the food, Neve wandered through from the other room, running a towel through her damp hair. Drake inhaled her scent, feeling the tension bleed out of his muscles. Mateo placed half a dozen bags onto the small desk in the corner, then selected one and threw it to Neve.

  “That should be enough for you two. I’ll start unwrapping Sasha’s.”

  They all ate in companionable silence, Sasha the first to finish her dozen burgers.

  “We should all get some rest—at least a few hours before we get on the road,” Drake announced when they were all done. Mateo mumbled something about taking a shower first and disappeared into the other room with the trash from their meal.

  Neve stared down at the shower curtain on the bed. “I’m exhausted, but I’m not sleeping on that,” she said. “Think you could move over to the chair without hurting yourself too much?”

  Glancing in the direction she was pointing, he nodded and braced himself to move. His whole body hurt, but it wasn’t because of a specific injury. It was more a general ache of his muscles, which he took as a good sign. From his spot, he watched Neve remake the bed with the same precision as when she’d first seen her room, snapping the sheets out to cover the mattress with a no nonsense efficiency. Once she was satisfied with the bed, she nodded at him.

  “Get back on then.”

  He kept the slight grin to himself as he stood up and shuffled over to the edge of the mattress. Letting out a groan, he relaxed back into the pillows. The mattress dipped when Neve joined him, her body curling into his. He’d just closed his eyes, when the mattress dipped once more and Sasha’s scent invaded his senses. She curled up on his other side, her head coming to rest on his hip. Reaching out, he scratched her behind her ear.

  “Fuck, I hate being last in,” Mateo muttered, making Drake crack his eyes open once more. The other male settled on the end of the bed, lying against Drake’s feet. Although natural jaguars were solitary animals, shifters tended to seek the comfort of their fellow cats when they were hurt. Drake let out a content sigh and finally fell asleep with the scent of his pride and his mate in his nose.

  38

  Jett hung up the phone and stared at the screen until it went dark. He sucked in a breath just to make sure he could still do it—still breathe—because he felt as if his chest was crumpling under the pressure of the news he’d just received.

  His mother was dead.

  And now he had to tell his sister.

  Raising his hand to knock on her door, he hesitated. How was he supposed to break this to her? Was it a rip the Band-Aid off kind of thing, or was it something that required kid gloves? Exhaling sharply, he sacked up and knocked.

  Katya was there a moment later. “What’s wrong?” she asked softly when she saw his face.

  “Can I come in?”

  She stepped back, wrapping her arms around herself. “You’re scaring me.”

  Fear. She was doing better than him. All he felt was hypoxic. “She’s dead.” The words came out of his mouth before he could soften them. Kat stared at him with utter desolation in her eyes, and somehow, she looked a decade older all of a sudden.

  “Luce?” she croaked, tears already streaming down her cheeks.

  Grim, he shook his head. “Mom.”

  With a ragged sob, Katya broke apart and fell to her knees. Jett joined her on the ground, wrapping his arms around her and just holding her.

  “What are we going to do?” Katya whispered into his chest.

  He rubbed her back, hoping to soothe her. Their mother may have been an addict, but she was still their flesh and blood, even if she’d chosen chemicals over their love.

  “Mila needs to know.”

  Kat pulled back, swiping the tears from her cheeks. “I’ll call her.”

  Jett shook his head. “No, we need to do this face-to-face, and we need to do it now.”

  “Okay,” she replied, standing up unsteadily and going to the closet and pulling out an oversized sweater that was so old, it had tears in the sleeves.

  He stood up, his knees protesting. “You need new clothes,” he told her stupidly. How had he never noticed this before? Everything about his sister signposted their poverty. Well, that was going to end today. He could support her and Mila and Luce. He’d do what he should’ve done all those years ago.

  “We didn’t have the money to spend on new clothes,” she replied softly, ducking her head.

  Lifting her chin, he said, “No more, Katya. You don’t have to be embarrassed anymore. It’s…over. All of it. I’ll look after you and Luce.” Somehow, he’d make it all work, he’d stretch the pittance he was paid and make sure they were taken care of.

  “And Mila?” she asked. “I know you two don’t see eye to eye all the time, but she still needs you.”

  “I know.” And didn’t he feel like an absolute dick for not seeing it earlier. “Are you ready to go?”

  Grabbing her purse, she walked toward the door with her shoulders back and her chin high. Following her out, Jett said, “I just need to grab my keys from my room.”

  In. Out.

  Down to the front door.

  Stepping outside, he got bitch slapped by the cold wind. Normally, he wouldn’t be taking Katya on his motorbike, but the trip was a short one, and he wanted to have her close to him.

  Walking over the pea gravel, he flipped open the compartment on his bike and pulled out the second helmet he kept in there and tossed it to her.

  Katya’s brows rose. “Are you serious?”

  “Yeah. Hop on.”

  To her credit, she did just that, sliding in behind him once he was settled on the bike. She put her hands on his shoulders and pressed her body close, letting out a squeal when he started the engine and rolled them down the drive. She loosened up as they went, her grip easing off, her body losing some of that rigidity.

  Twenty minutes later, he pulled up in front of Mila’s boyfriend’s house, killing the engine and taking off his helmet.

  Katya climbed off the back, wrapping her arms around herself while he lowered the kickstand and set the bike on an angle. The front door opened then, and Katya started toward Mila, who was standing on the stoop. Looming beh
ind her was her boyfriend. Jett made sure to keep eye contact with the guy, waiting for him to nod, to acknowledge that unspoken agreement.

  “Kat?” Mila asked. “What’s going on?”

  His sisters embraced in the middle of the front lawn while he watched from the curb.

  Robby stayed standing in the doorway, a frown forming between his eyes.

  “She’s dead, Mila,” Katya moaned. “Mom. She died. She—”

  A ragged sob escaped her, the sound of it tearing at Jett’s self-control. He eyed Mila, wondering if she would accept his comfort now, despite everything they’d been through. Damn it, he had to try. He approached her slowly, giving her time to retreat if she wanted to. She stunned him, though, when she opened up her arms and invited him into the embrace.

  So they stood there, the three of them, hugging each other, hugging what was left of their family. Mila squeezed Jett’s shoulder as if trying to convince herself that he was real and he was there. They cried together, mourning not just the loss of their mom, but perhaps their childhood too. They’d reached a place none of them had expected to be, but were there nonetheless.

  Katya was the first to pull back, but she kept her arms twined with them, one wrapped around Mila and the other around him.

  “Come back with us, Mila?” she asked softly. “Come and stay with us at Jett’s house, at least until we get Luce back. I can’t stand the thought of losing another member of my family.”

  Mila stiffened. “Get her back?” She turned to look at Jett. “Where’s Luce?”

  He could feel both his sisters staring at him. “I tried to tell you last time.” He sucked in a breath. “She was abducted, but we’re doing everything we can to get her back.”

  Mila folded her arms and took half a step back. “She’s ten.” Her words were a bare whisper.

  “I know,” Jett replied just as softly. “We’ll get her back, though.” His hand curled into a fist, stifling the flames trying to leap from his palm. “Even if I have to raze the entire country to find her.”

  A pall fell between them until Katya said, “So, will you come back to stay at Jett’s house?”