Shadow Weaver: The Nightwatch Academy book 2

by Cassidy, Debbie

  He pulled back and locked gazes with me. “You do?”

  I nudged his nose with mine. “Orion’s law.”

  He sucked in a breath. “How?”

  “It doesn’t matter how. I understand.”

  He swallowed hard and rolled his forehead against mine. “If I could …”

  I scanned his face to note the longing there, the truth of his feelings. Feelings that rivaled mine.

  I licked my lips. “I know.”

  “This can’t happen again,” he whispered. “If we’re found out …”

  I nodded mutely, fighting the threat of tears.

  He kissed me once more, softly, then lowered me to the ground.

  With a final lingering glance, he turned back to the scope, and I escaped down the stairs to get cleaned up and file this moment away.

  * * *

  I stared at the slats on the bed above. Watchtower duty had been over for an hour. Mal and Gimble had taken over for Hyde and me. And thank goodness they had. The hour we’d spent up there after we’d brought each other to climax was silent and dreadful and filled with words neither of us could say.

  Mal and Gimble turning up had been a relief. Hyde had retreated to the control room, and I’d escaped to the dorm. The others would be back off patrol soon. The stints were short as Hyde had set up a tight perimeter for us to monitor, but when I’d checked the patrol rota, my name wasn’t on there, and it pissed me off. I needed to be out in the mist doing something, because I couldn’t do the one thing I desperately wanted. I couldn’t get Harmon back.

  A shadow fell over me. “Did you have sex with Hyde?” Thomas asked. “I was just with him, and he reeks of you, and you stink of him. You both reek of sex pheromones.”

  Damn nightblood senses.

  I rolled onto my side to face him. “We did not have sex.”

  His eyes widened. “Bullshit.”

  I sat up. “Not sex. And it’s over. I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Thomas opened and closed his mouth as if wanting to push the issue, but then he threw up his hands. “Fine. I get it. Shit is complicated.” He tugged off his boots. “I just spoke to Brady.”

  I sat up quickly. “He’s here? He’s back?”

  Thomas held up his hands. “Whoa, chill. No, I spoke to him on the radio.” He looked at me pityingly. “Indie, man. You have it bad.”

  I slumped back down on my pillow. “I need to hit something, but Hyde has me on fucking watchtower duty most of the week.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s what the radio call was about. New rota from the fortress. The knights are in the process of preparing sector three for end-of-term trial.”

  Oh, fuck, with everything else going on I’d forgotten that we were going to be tested before we could graduate.

  “Like we haven’t dealt with enough crap already? You’d think they’d skip the fake shit and just fast-track us already. Our people were taken, for fucksake! There are tunnels running under the mist, and goodness knows what else is coming for us. We need to be active, not playing games to prove our worth.”

  Thomas’s jaw ticked. “Yeah, I agree. But we don’t matter. Not yet. Not until we get the knighthood. There is one bit of good news, though.”

  “What?”

  “First years have been roped into tunnel guard duty.”

  I swung my legs out of bed. “Does Hyde know?”

  “Yeah, and he’s not happy.”

  “Am I on the rota?”

  He grinned. “Two hours with Brady.”

  My heart jumped into my mouth.

  “Um, I suggest you shower …”

  I hit him with my pillow. “Cheeky bastard.”

  But he was right. I didn’t know what ogre senses were like, but I didn’t want him to smell Hyde on me. I did, however, need to tell him what had happened. My stomach tightened. He deserved to know, even if it meant I might lose him.

  And the thought of losing Brady frightened the fuck out of me.

  Nineteen

  Shit, my palms were all sweaty, and I couldn’t even wipe them on my armor. Brady and Carlo would be here any moment. Brady to pick me up and Carlo as his mist partner. The rule was to be in pairs at all times when out in the mist, so Carlo would take a shift at the barracks until Brady and I finished our guard shift.

  I hovered in the lounge, my insides all screwy. The sound of boot falls echoed down the corridor that led to the exit, and then Brady entered the room. His frame filled out his armor, accentuating the breadth of his shoulders. His gaze zeroed in on me straight away, and heat lanced through me. My instinct was to run into his arms. To hug him hard.

  But I locked my knees and held my ground. “Hey.”

  “Hey.” One word uttered in his deep baritone. One word that sent shivers over my skin.

  Oh, God. I’d missed his voice.

  Carlo strolled in behind Brady and then crossed the room to me and gathered me into a hug. Our armor clinked together softly. “Justice is back on her feet.”

  I hugged him back. “You miss me?”

  He set me on my feet. “Like ham on rye, baby.” He graced me with his signature lopsided grin. “Did you miss me?”

  “Like cheese and pickles.”

  “We need to go,” Brady said softly from the door.

  Carlo rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes, you’ll have her all to yourself for three hours soon enough.” He leaned in. “Guy’s been like a bear with a sore head.”

  “Carlo …” Brady’s voice was a warning rumble.

  Carlo backed away from me, his hands up. “Maybe you can improve his mood.” He headed to the armor room to change, leaving me alone with Brady.

  He looked me up and down. “You look good.”

  “So do you.”

  His eyes warmed in a smile. “Come on. We can catch up on the way to the tunnels.” He didn’t lead the way but waited for me to pass and then made up the rear. I wanted to turn around and hug him, but I kept walking because I had something to tell him, and after he heard it, he might not look at me in the same way again.

  * * *

  We barely spoke on the trek from the barracks to the tunnel entrance. It was an entrance a quarter of a mile from the rise that led to the fortress, and one of the most heavily guarded ones. Two cadets I didn’t recognize were waiting for us. They’d fixed a lamp to a post by the hole in the ground and were sitting leaned up against a boulder. They stood as we approached.

  “You’re late,” one of them growled.

  The other one shook hands with Brady. “You want to borrow my cards?” He held out a pack of cards to Brady. “It gets pretty boring keeping watch.”

  The grumpy guy made a sound of derision. “They’ve blown up enough to cause blockages. I doubt any fomorians are getting through that anytime soon.”

  “We follow the orders,” Brady said.

  “Whatever.” The cadet raked me over. “I doubt he’ll need the cards,” he said. “He has company.” He said the word in a way that made my skin crawl. “What I want to know is when we get a turn with the female cadet.”

  Brady moved so fast he was a blur, and then the mouthy cadet was on the ground clutching his face. Blood seeped out from between his fingers.

  “Shit.” His companion crouched to help him up, but the bleeding cadet brushed him off.

  “You’re dead, Stonewall,” the bleeder said.

  Stonewall. Was that Brady’s surname? It was the first time I’d heard it, and I liked it. Brady Stonewall. It fit.

  “You don’t talk about her,” Brady said. “You don’t think about her. And you never, ever look at her. You got it?”

  The bleeder glared at Brady over the hand that was cupping his nose. “Fuck you.”

  Brady’s body tensed, and I stepped between him and the dickhead, my back to Brady’s chest.

  “If I were you, I’d stop talking. Now.”

  He narrowed his eyes at me, and it looked like he was going to argue back, but his friend intercepted, steering him away from
the tunnel.

  “Okay, we’re all good here. See you guys later.”

  Brady kept his eyes on the duo as they vanished into the mist, and then his shoulders relaxed.

  I peered up at him. “Are you all right?”

  “I should be asking you that question.”

  I shrugged. “Mouthing-off dickheads don’t bother me.”

  “I wasn’t talking about him. You’ve been different since I picked you up.”

  My stomach quivered, and I ducked my head. “Yeah. I guess I have.”

  I could feel him studying me. “It’s okay. I understand. You chose him.”

  My gaze flew up to meet his. “No. That’s … that’s not what it is.”

  “Then what?”

  “I’m attracted to him. I can’t deny it, and things happened between us earlier today.”

  He went very still. “You don’t owe me anything, Indigo. You don’t have to do this.”

  “Yes. Yes, I do.” I reached for his arm and allowed the swirling feelings in my heart to flow out of my eyes. “Nothing can happen between Hyde and me. If it could, then I would want to pursue it, but I’d still want you too. I can honestly say I can’t make a choice. And that makes me sound like a complete dick, I know.”

  He reached up to cup my face. “You have made a choice. You’ve chosen not to choose.” His gaze dropped to my mouth. “So, what do you want from me, Indigo?”

  Everything. But saying that would be forcing him to commit. It would be activating a mating bond that was for life. Was I ready for that? As much as I wanted him, did I want that?

  He smiled sadly. “You’re not ready.”

  I clutched at his shoulders. “I want to be.”

  He smiled, slow burn and sexy as hell. “Then how about we begin with a kiss.”

  Liquid heat pooled at my core, and my breathing sped up. “That would work.”

  Our lips were suddenly inches apart, our breath kissing. Damn the armor. I wanted to feel his chest beneath my fingers, to feel his heartbeat. Was it galloping like mine?

  “Indigo, breathe.” His voice vibrated through me, and then his lips brushed mine. Soft, tentative, teasing.

  My heart was beating so fast it was almost painful. I wanted to deepen the kiss. To ravage him, but I held back, reveling in the sweet torment as he grazed my bottom lip with his teeth, hard enough to send tingles shooting to the apex of my thighs but not hard enough to hurt. He angled my chin with his hand and deepened the kiss, sweeping the inside of my mouth with his tongue, tasting me at his leisure. My knees buckled as he left my mouth to suck and kiss his way across my jaw, down my neck. Then he laved his tongue upward and took my earlobe into his hot mouth. My knees buckled, and his arm was around my waist, holding me up.

  His mouth. Oh, God, that mouth. And his tongue. I’d been kissed before but not like this. He kissed my neck, my throat, the spot behind my ear, trailing his tongue along my jaw until I was whimpering and begging for him to claim my mouth again.

  “Please, Brady.”

  His lips hovered over mine, our breathing ragged and fast, and then he kissed me, crushing me to him as we devoured each other with open-mouthed kisses that just wouldn’t be enough.

  Every inch of me was on fire, and the fucking armor was in the way because I needed to feel him, rub against him, lick him, suck on him. Shit.

  I climbed him like he was a tree, wrapping my legs around him to get closer.

  He tore his mouth from mine, dark eyes a miasma of stars as they bore into mine.

  Too much sensation, too much connection.

  I closed my eyes and pressed my cheek to his. “Well, that’s an impressive beginning.”

  His chest rumbled with laughter, and my heart swelled in my chest with that feeling that accompanied three little words.

  Three words that could change everything.

  Three words that once uttered had the power to hurt us both.

  I swallowed them as he lowered me carefully to the ground.

  He held up the cards the other cadet had left with him. “You want to play?”

  “I’d rather pass the time kissing.”

  “Don’t tempt me.” He was deadly serious.

  But kissing him was too much. It was everything and not enough. If I started again, then I wouldn’t be able to control myself or what I might say.

  “Cards it is.”

  * * *

  “You’re cheating.” I gathered the cards up and shuffled. “You have some ogre mojo you haven’t filled me in on.”

  “There’s plenty I haven’t filled you in on,” Brady said. He leaned against the rock and watched as I dealt the cards.

  “Okay, now I’m uber curious.”

  “I’ll share. But only with my mate.”

  My pulse skipped. I gnawed on my bottom lip. “Why me?”

  He seemed to consider the question for several seconds. “I wondered the same thing at first.”

  “Wow, thanks.”

  He laughed softly, then sobered. “It was curiosity at first. Then the need to protect. It was a combination of things. Chemistry. Pheromones. Attraction, but those things I could have fought. The problem arose when I began to like you as a person, and after that, there was no stopping the spiral.” He picked up his cards and held them up to the light dangling from the post. “You might as well quit. You’re going to lose again.”

  I shot him a mischievous grin. “I’m not a quitter.”

  “Then that makes two of us.”

  Low moaning drifted up from the hole in the ground.

  I lowered the cards. “What was that?”

  Brady held a finger to his lips in a hush gesture.

  I nodded, and then we stood in unison and crept closer to the tunnel.

  The moan came again, soft and mournful as if someone was in pain.

  I moved closer to Brady. “There’s someone down there.”

  Brady unclipped his radio from his belt. “Stonewall to the fort, come in, fort.”

  Soft static greeted him.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “No reception.”

  “We need to call for backup.”

  “I know.” He tried the radio again but got nothing but static. “Shit. Stay here. I’m going in.”

  I grabbed his arm. “Like hell. We have no idea what’s down there.” I laced my fingers through his. “We either both stay up here and defend, or we both go down and attack.”

  “There are two of us for a reason,” Brady said. “One to go get help if the other is injured.” He tilted my chin up and pressed a quick kiss to my lips. “If I’m not back in five minutes, go get help.”

  And then he climbed into the hole.

  Shit. Shit. Shit. There was something down there, and I’d let him go in alone. It could be anything. What creature made a sound like that?

  Long minutes passed. Two to be precise. Shit. “Brady?” I called down the hole.

  Nothing.

  Three-minute mark passed.

  I took a step into the hole and then stopped. Brady’s instructions had been clear. If he was hurt, I needed to get help.

  If he was hurt, I needed to get to him now.

  And then a bellow, Brady’s bellow, echoed out of the tunnel. He was in trouble. There was no thought, only action. I clambered down the steps into darkness, stumbling and then righting myself as my nightblood vision kicked into gear.

  There was the clang of metal on rock and another angry bellow.

  “Brady! Brady!” I ran through the winding tunnel, blade at the ready.

  An eerie moan echoed around me. Lights flashed, bouncing off the walls, seeping out of the walls, and then ghostly blue faces rushed toward me and claws passed through me, scraping at my mind.

  Rage bloomed in my mind like a crimson stain. Blood. Lust. Fury. I needed to kill and maim.

  A rumble of thunder accompanied the rage.

  Thunder.

  I was in a tunnel.

  How was there—

  A
fresh surge of adrenaline coursed through me, heating my blood into a frenzy. I began to jog. There was a body there. A body that needed to be cut down. A life to be ended.

  Wait … no. I’d come here for a reason. For something else. Why was I so angry? I raised my blade, heart jackhammering, breath coming fast, and stared at my hand, at the black veins crawling across it.

  Wrong.

  This was wrong.

  Something in the tunnel.

  Faces and lights.

  Claws in my mind.

  I had to fight. Fight it. I locked my knees and found the glowing connection to the weave. But the thing, the dark claws, were right there, digging in, trying to drag me back. Drag me away from the light.

  I grasped the glowing rope and tugged.

  Help me.

  Please.

  My plea reverberated down the thread, and the weave above me lit up brighter.

  Soft voices answered.

  One of us.

  In pain.

  One of us.

  Please, I need… Oh, God. I needed to kill.

  The weave glowed brighter, and then the light coalesced at one point, the point connected to my thread.

  Yes. I needed it. I needed that power.

  And then the light was rushing down my thread. It slammed into me, knocking me free of the claws and filling my body with fizzing power. The rage vanished, and my mind was clear.

  Brady.

  Brady was in trouble.

  Twenty

  I veered around the corner and then swung back to avoid the sharp end of Brady’s blade. His eyes were black pits in his head. His skin a map of black veins.

  “Argh!” He struck, and I blocked with my blade.

  Metal clanked, and I buckled under his assault. Fuck, he was strong, but the rage those light things had induced was making him even stronger.

  “Brady, stop!” I ducked and threw myself forward in a roll to avoid his blade.

  He attacked again and again.

  “Stop. Fucking hell.” I needed to contain him, to get to him. The power of the weave was a throb in my blood, and instinct told me I needed to touch him, to lay hands on his skin while the weave was flowing through me. The connection, this strong connection I’d forged, wouldn’t last. I could feel it ebbing. But it was impossible to get close to him, though. He was swinging like a madman. I’d have been dead without my nightblood vision.