In Gathering Shade E-Book

Natalie J. Case

• Herausgeber: Next Chapter
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

Held captive by the fanatical 8th Battalion, Mason Jerah is convinced he doesn't have long to live... and he isn't alone in his captivity. The Shadows have a plan; one that could mean freedom.

Meanwhile, operative Raven Ivany struggles against the forces aligning against Shades and Shadows - Shifters and Sages - and finds an unlikely companion in Zero, a teenage girl with a mysterious past and desire to prove herself.

Leseprobe

In Gathering Shade

Shades and Shadows Book 2

Natalie J. Case

Copyright (C) 2017 Natalie J. Case

Layout design and Copyright (C) 2019 Next Chapter

Published 2019 by Next Chapter

Cover art by Cover Mint

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the author's permission.

For all of those who suffer from discrimination and the systematic belittlement of the other among us, whether that other is skin color, gender, faith, sexual orientation or some other factor beyond their control, with the hope that we can find a way to fully embrace all of our kin as one.

Chapter One

“I am told that a Shade has no soul and cannot be saved, however, my superiors have instructed me to extract information from you, so that more of your kind can be hunted and killed before they can corrupt those whom God loves.”

The colonel liked to hear himself talk, Mason had learned, but when he was talking, Mason was less likely to be beaten, forced to swallow salt, or any of the other torments they had laid on him in the days he'd been their prisoner. Mason was once again in the center of the cell and under artificial UV light, his arms up over his head so that he was swinging from his chained wrists.

“Today we are going to explore your healing more.” He held up a knife and Mason swallowed. Up until now his injuries were largely superficial, at least the external ones were. Internally, he wasn't as sure. The prisoner called Alaric had used his fingers to make him to throw up the salt each time that Shallon forced it into him, but his stomach was starting to feel like it was ripped to shreds. His ribs were painful and the little bit of self-assessment he'd managed in the dark between torture sessions told him that it wouldn't take much to make the cracked ribs into true breaks.

His shoulders screamed and his wrists were bloody, and the amount of water he'd been given was barely enough to keep him alive, even if Alaric had tried to supplement it with his own water and, at least once, blood. It was probably wrong to wish the bastard tormenting him would just cut him too much, too deep, and spill all the precious blood in his body into the dirt and let him slide into the dark.

Instead, the cut was shallow along his collarbone, just enough to make him bleed. Mason hissed, closing his eyes against the new stinging pain. “There now, that seems a simple enough matter. Show me this healing.”

His blood was thick and slow, hot against his skin. Mason licked dry lips with a drier tongue. “Can't.”

“Come now, I'm told–”

“Colonel.”

Shallon turned away from Mason to the soldier in Battalion blues at the door, dipping his head to listen as the man whispered in his ear. He looked up sharply, snapping at his men, and they all left the cell without another word.

Alaric was at his side instantly, hands sliding up Mason's arms and fumbling with the bindings that held his hands.

“Leave him.” Bryan said, pushing past them to the door. He pushed on it, but it didn't budge. “Riley will be here any minute.”

Alaric pulled on the chains holding him without responding. Mason closed his eyes and tried not to move.

“Alaric, we have to go now.”

Mason opened his eyes. Alaric's blond hair was tickling his cheek and suddenly his hands fell free and his body crashed to the ground. The door was open and for a long moment, Mason couldn't understand why.

Being deprived of darkness and liquids had taken a toll on him, and his brain was sluggish, slow to realize what was going on. Unless he got some darkness and some water soon, he would not be able to recover.

“Can you stand?” Alaric's voice was strained, and he could hear the fear and the tension in his tone. In the hall beyond Mason could hear men moving and Bryan was gone, leaving the cell was empty now but for the two of them.

“I… maybe.” He offered his hand for help up and Alaric took it, hefting as Mason pushed off the floor.

“Lean on me. I'll get you some cover soon, but we have to move.” Alaric's arm slid around his waist, tugging Mason's body close as Mason managed to make his feet move.

Mason tried to focus as they went, but everything was moving very quickly around him. They followed Bryan's back and after a few minutes, Alaric ducked them into a blessedly dark room.

“Stay here. I'll be right back.” Alaric pushed Mason up against a wall and was gone.

In the distance thunder rumbled… or maybe it was an explosion. Men were shouting, and there was a spattering of gunfire before Alaric was back. “Here, put these on.” He shoved clothes at Mason, peeking out the door. “It's daylight outside. You need to cover up.”

Alaric helped him figure his way into the clothes, belting the too-big pants tight and shoving his feet into boots that weren't too bad, if a little tight. “We have to hurry. Bryan and Riley are making sure our path out is clear. Take this.” He shoved a canteen into his hands. “It isn't much. I'll try to get us more before we're outside.”

Mason tilted back his head and poured the water into his mouth as Alaric checked the hallway again. “Okay, come on.”

Mason stumbled as they hit a set of stairs, but Alaric hauled him back to his feet. Bryan was above them, telling them to hurry. “Out the door, to your right, Riley's holding the fence. East and then north.”

Bryan shoved another canteen at him and Alaric tugged Mason out the door. They made the fence, where a grinning young man with spiky white-blond hair was holding open a cutaway piece of the fence and a big automatic gun. “Let's move, Cassandra's illusions aren't going to keep them busy for much longer.”

Alaric pushed Mason through the fence first, then followed. They started running once they were out, or as close to running as Mason was capable of. Bryan and Riley caught up, and Mason thought there were other people around them as well. The sun beat down on them without mercy and the ground was baked sand and rock, radiating the heat and light back up at him. Mason guzzled water from the first canteen, dropping it when it was empty and he tried to keep from falling.

He didn't know how or why, but it was pretty clear that this was an escape orchestrated with outside help, and for whatever reason Alaric had inexplicably chosen to take Mason with them. He wasn't about to complain. Even dying all dry and burnt out in the desert was a better way to go than in the hands of a man like Shallon.

They ran across the barren landscape with little for cover, and he was sure they would be recaptured. He stumbled as he tried to look back over his shoulder, nearly going down before Alaric's hand fisted in the loose fabric of his stolen shirt and hauled him up again. “Don't worry about behind us,” Alaric said. “Just focus on moving.”

Mason clung to Alaric, fairly certain he wouldn't survive this mad race from captivity, but not quite ready to let go of the hope that he might. The desert sun was no place for Mason, and he knew Alaric felt guilty for dragging him through the daylight, could feel the guilt in the air around them, but Mason wouldn't have survived had he been left behind.

So, they ran. Alaric pulled him down into a ditch of some kind, offering him the meager shade cast by the opposite wall. Mason couldn't slow his breathing and his skin was hot and dry.

Alaric leaned in, his hand on Mason's face. “You still with me?”

Mason nodded, lifting the last canteen with shaking hands. “Need liquid, dark.”

“I know. Catch your breath. I'll be right back.”

Alaric disappeared and for a long moment, Mason wondered if he would bother coming back. He gulped at the water, but it wasn't enough to make a big difference. He dropped the canteen from numb fingers when it was empty, closing his eyes and leaning back against the wall of the ditch.

His breathing was slowing down, his racing heart calming some. Alaric reappeared, ducking down so that his blond head wasn't visible over the top of the ditch. He held up another canteen, pouring its contents over Mason's head and shoulders in an attempt to cool his already burning skin, which absorbed the water almost immediately.

“You have to keep moving.” Alaric said. Mason nodded, though for the life of him he didn't think he could. “The others have bought us some time, but eventually those guards will figure it out and head back this way.” Alaric tugged on his arm and got him standing again, but Mason's knees buckled and he went down again. Alaric went one knee beside him. “We aren't far from a series of caves where we can rest out of the sun.”

Mason's skin was red and had that clammy feeling that comes of too much light and not enough water. But they were out of water. He couldn't figure out why Alaric was still with him. Mason made a show of trying to push him away. “Go with your friends.”

He shook his head with a sad sort of smile. “I could help you.” Alaric offered tentatively, holding up a knife he must have stolen in their escape.

Mason's hand stopped him. “No.” He shook his head. His mouth was dry and his hands were trembling. He squinted up at the sun. He knew he was well over half way to sun-shock, and soon, he would no longer be able to move.

“You need fluid.” Alaric insisted, the knife in his hands, the blade on his skin. “And blood is all the fluid that I have to offer.”

Mason closed his eyes and fell back against the hot sand wall. “Save yourself.” No matter what help blood would be, it wouldn't be enough, not without darkness and water.

Alaric only responded by slicing into the meat of his palm and holding his hand to Mason's mouth.

Mason couldn't, he pulled away, shaking his head. He'd never taken blood that way, never tasted any but his own, but his body craved sustenance and the blood was wet on his lips. He licked his lips and when Alaric pushed the hand back to his lips he couldn't stop himself. He raised a hand to cradle Alaric's and held it still as Mason sat up, his eyes fluttering open to meet Alaric's, vulnerable and ashamed as he drank.

The taste of it was familiar and he flushed with memory of blood in his mouth in the dark cell. Alaric had done this before. Mason closed his eyes and pushed his hand away. It wasn't enough, but he wouldn't take more.

Mason's breathing was rapid, echoing the sped-up beat of Alaric's heart. “Let's get you to shelter.” Alaric said, standing. He helped Mason up, let him lean into his side.

“You shouldn't have done that.” Mason whispered, his voice ravaged and raw.

Alaric smiled and brushed dirty hair out of his face. “I know. But my grandmother told me it was bad luck to let a Shade die in the sun. She'd skin me alive if I left you here just to save my own skin.”

Mason looked up at him, his eyes an impossibly blue reflection of the sky above them. He forced himself to smile, remembering his own Nana. She'd never abide him leaving someone behind to die either. “Can't have none of that then.” Mason's head dropped onto Alaric's shoulder, letting his concentration fall on keeping his feet moving toward the shelter Alaric told him was ahead of them.

It seemed to take forever, the dry ground and glaring sun making it difficult for him to judge distances, but then Alaric turned them and set Mason's hand against a rock while he ducked in under an overhang to make sure it was safe. Mason groaned with relief as Alaric guided him in, bending him and holding him to get into the shallow cave made by large boulders that seemed to make a wall.

With the dark, his body began to cool almost immediately. The cave was just enough to get them out of the sun, to let the dark sooth his skin, and with that something of the pain would start to drain away, or so he hoped. He'd never been in this kind of dry before. It was bad, and he knew it.

His lips were cracked open and his flesh was red. There wasn't a spot on his body that didn't hurt. Mason closed his eyes and willed the pain to subside. He didn't dare expend the energy to attempt to heal. As his breathing calmed and his skin cooled, he could sense beyond himself. There was water nearby. It called to him and he knew he only had to wait for the sun to go down before he could search it out and let it restore him to something closer to himself.

Alaric's body blocked more of the sun near the entrance to their hiding place. Mason hadn't even realized that he hadn't come inside with him. “Bryan and Riley sent a signal. They made it into the car, they should be safe enough to make it the rest of the way.”

Mason didn't ask how they signaled or what car, just nodded, fighting back the grimace of pain as his ribs shifted and his sun-burnt skin cracked. He swallowed around the dry, raw feeling in his throat and told himself it would only be a few hours at most.

A deeper shadow fell across him and he looked up to see Alaric sliding to his knees beside him. Alaric held up his hand with its barely scabbed over cut, and the knife.

“No.” Mason pushed his hand away and tried to sit up more. “Save your strength.” His voice was a rasp of heated sand on stone.

“Let me help you,” Alaric said almost urgently.

“You should go be with your friends. I'll be fine. Just got to make it to dark.”

Alaric looked at him like he didn't believe him, like he knew that it was mostly false bravado talking. “You'll die if you don't get some more fluid. What you took before was nowhere near enough.”

He sliced over the old wound and there was sand in the bright crimson of the blood, but Mason almost couldn't help the way he licked his lips. He could almost feel the ease of pain that would come with the blood, nutrient rich and wet. “No.” He shook his head. “I swore…never…” It was a promise he'd made to himself, made to his Nana. A Shade could live richly on the blood of others, and the old lore told stories of a time when Shades did just that, surviving on blood and water. It was what his body needed.

He closed his eyes and turned his head away, but the smell of the blood followed him and there was a warm wetness on his lips. “Please let me help you.” Alaric whispered.

He couldn't breathe for the scent of it, his body seizing with the need for it and though he was sure he meant not to, Mason opened his mouth and took it in. Alaric's heartbeat roared into his head, his life, his breath filled his senses. Mason was aware of all of him. He could sense worry and taste pain… from the cut, from being manhandled by the men who captured him and… something more, something… Mason forced himself to pull back, licking his lips and thanking Alaric with a nod of his head.

Alaric smiled at him and moved to sit beside him. It was too close in the small space, but Mason just closed his eyes, determined to get what rest he could because he knew the dark would mean more running.

He slept fitfully through the afternoon, chasing and being chased through dreams of people he couldn't fully see, and he woke with a start, unsure of where he was for a moment. His head was on Alaric's shoulder, Alaric's arm around him, holding him, his body protecting Mason's from the mouth of the cave.

Over Alaric's arm, Mason could see that the sun was well on its way to down. He could feel the pull of the water even more strongly. He stirred, tried to figure out how to get up without waking Alaric, but before he'd moved more than an inch or two, Alaric's blue eyes were staring at him. “Going somewhere?”

“Sun's down.” Mason rasped. “Water.”

Alaric nodded. “You know where it is?”

“North.” Mason pointed as Alaric sat up.

“You were going to go without me.” It wasn't a question. Alaric pushed himself up, keeping his head bent as he moved to the mouth of the cave.

“Don't need me slowing you down.” Mason followed him out of the cave.

“In the dark, I'm going to be the one slowing you down.” Alaric said. He slipped his arm around Mason's shoulders to support him and started them walking in the direction Mason pointed.

The night was cloudy, blocking out the soothing touch of the moon, but Mason followed the pull of water. They kept the wall of boulders between them and the facility they had escaped from. By the time they had reached a dirt road that ran alongside a hill, it was little more than dark spots on the horizon.

Even with the sun down, Mason's skin was uncomfortably warm. He had no idea where they were, or where they were headed, aside from the fact that there was water within reach.

He pointed into the trees and Alaric helped him climb the incline, pausing to rest when Mason's body screamed at him. “Any idea how far this water is?” Alaric asked, holding up the canteen he had apparently kept.

Mason pointed and pushed off the tree. He stumbled a little and Alaric was right there, keeping him upright and moving. Eventually, they found a small stream. It wasn't much, but Mason was tugging at his clothes and wading in as quickly as he could.

It was only knee deep, but cold, and running at a decent current. He went to his knees, then lowered as much of himself as he could into the water. Alaric picked up the clothes Mason had dropped, folding them and setting them near the stream on a rock. “I'm going to have a look around.”

Mason nodded, not actually caring beyond the pull of the water, the cooling and energy it offered. He breathed in deep and dunked his head, blessed cool surrounding him, caressing him.

He needed to heal the ribs before they caused more damage, but this wasn't the optimal situation for that. Maybe he could find something to wrap them with instead, at least for now.

As he surfaced, Alaric was returning, a decided purpose in his steps. He squatted beside the stream. “If you can, we need to move. There's a patrol headed our way.”

“How far?” Mason asked, already standing and stepping out of the water. Mason felt Alaric's eyes on his naked body and blushed, turning away. There was something in that look he couldn't place, couldn't help but feel on display. His skin absorbed the water quickly, leaving him damp, but able to dress.

“I figure twenty minutes, they'll be here.” Alaric handed him his pants, then held his shirt. “We can find you more water.”

Mason shoved his feet into the boots and nodded, still pulling on his shirt as they headed up stream. They followed it part way, then crossed it to continue west. “I take it you have someplace in particular in mind?” Mason asked when Alaric stopped to look up at the stars, then squinted at the landscape around them.

“Into the mountains. We have a camp.”

The sound of men talking startled them both and they ducked behind rocks. Two men moved along the far side of the stream, calling back to others that were further away, then splashing, and they were moving again, back downstream.

They waited until they couldn't hear the men, then a little longer before they came out of hiding and headed out again. “I've never hiked it from this direction.” Alaric said. “But, if we keep going that way,” he pointed northwest, “we should get to a little town called Brettles close to morning.”

“It's going to get cold.” Mason said.

“Yeah, we'll get snow soon.” Alaric agreed.

“So, what then, after we get to this small town?” Mason asked.

Alaric sort of shrugged. “You have somewhere else you need to be?”

“I have obligations.”

Alaric nodded. “Your job?”

“You could say that.” The night air was definitely cooler than the hot sun they'd escaped into and would get downright cold as they got higher into the mountains. It was refreshing at the moment, helping to draw the heat from his skin, but his wounds were wearing him down and his steps slowed. “You know, I need to say thank you for getting me out of there, but I'm not sure–”

“I am.” Alaric said, smiling at him. “I'm sure.” He pushed his hair back behind his ears, his smile fading a little as he looked around them. “I should probably tell you that even though we escaped, it isn't likely they'll stop looking, even after we get back to camp.”

“Which still doesn't tell me why you were prisoners back there, or why you're hiding in the woods.”

“Let's just say that the 8th Battalion doesn't like us very much, and leave it at that for now.”

Mason was sweating already, his heart racing. He needed time to soak and heal. “I'm just going to slow you down,” he said, stopping. “You should point me toward the nearest water and get moving.”

“And leave you to get recaptured?” Alaric smiled and Mason's stomach tightened, feeling his face flush with heat he didn't understand. Alaric's hand was warm on Mason's shoulder. “Come on, we should keep moving.”

Chapter Two

Bryan was grateful to reach the turnoff to the camp. They hadn't heard from Alaric, but he was counting that as a good sign. Had Alaric been recaptured, he would have sent out a distress call.

The last Bryan knew, Alaric was laying a glamor over the cave where he'd hidden the Shade, protecting them from anyone that might come snooping. Bryan had argued that they needed to keep moving, but Alaric had just sent Bryan and Riley on without them.

Bryan and Riley had fled on foot down the dirt road to the car Riley had hidden, making better time than Alaric would with a wounded Shade in tow. They had planned to wait there, then get in as close to Alaric's position as they could and get the two of them into the car. But he was close to exhaustion, and Riley was done before they reached the car. He'd outdone himself in the effort to coordinate the “attack” on the facility, stretching his abilities to the breaking point.

Bryan had taken over as soon as he was capable, and he had to admit he was impressed. The younger man had never shown much in the way of what Bryan would consider useful gifts, but he'd managed remarkably well. Bryan tracked Cassandra and her team until they gave the all clear.

It wouldn't take long after that for the men chasing them to realize they'd been tricked and circle back to the facility to find the trail of their escaped prisoners. They figured it out a lot faster than Bryan had hoped, and with his energy shot, once he'd hidden them from the second snooping patrol, he knew he needed to get them out of there, leaving Alaric on his own with a burned-out Shade.

Alaric was wounded too, though he'd pushed Bryan away when he'd tried to get a look. It was obvious as they ran though. Alaric had banged himself up pretty good when he'd fallen on the tracks, and the less than gentle handling by the 8th Battalion hadn't helped any.

Bryan left Riley sleeping in the car and back tracked to a spot where he could see the long, low line of boulders that eventually ended up against a cliff. He'd reached out to let Alaric know they were leaving and that they would try to send back men to help. Instead, Alaric told him they'd get back on their own through Brettles. Bryan didn't bother trying to argue. He used the last of his strength to bolster Alaric's glamor and erase the tracks that led to their hideaway, making it seem as though the footsteps carried on south.

He'd been able to hold the illusion for a few hours, until he was too far away and stretched too thin, but by then any patrols would have followed the false trail.

Beside him, Riley stirred as they pulled off the paved road. “We good?”

“For now.” Bryan opened the wards and drove up the rutted path, stopping when they reached the inner gate. Riley got out and opened it, letting Bryan drive through before closing it again. The wards went back up behind them, and Bryan eased them up the road.

The night was frigid this far up the mountain and their breath plumed on the air as they got out of the car. Emily waited for them on the porch of the bunkhouse, a blanket pulled tight around her.

Sahara was with her, those sharp eyes watching his every move. He wasn't sure if it was flattering or irritating. He stepped up beside them and silently they all turned to go inside. There was a fire burning in the fireplace, pushing back the chill, and Cassandra, Matthew and Jacob were waiting there.

Bryan turned to Emily. “Everything good?”

She nodded. “Sahara was the first back, but Mila and Matthew weren't far behind. Where's Alaric?”

Riley stepped closer to the fire, warming his hands. Bryan sighed. Emily wouldn't like the fact that they had left her son behind. “He's somewhere behind us. He's got an injured Shade with him, had to stop to wait for nightfall. Said he'd come through Brettles.”

There was a ruffle of unease through the group at the mention of the Shade, and Bryan was not inclined to disagree with them, but it wasn't his place at the moment. That would wait until Alaric was back in charge of his people. “We should double the sentries. Keep an eye out. Not sure how bad the injuries are. They might need help.”

Jacob nodded and set off to set up the watch, the group scattering at the same time.

He held up a hand and brushed his mind to Emily's shields, letting her know everything was fine. “Alaric was fine last I saw. He's got a little bit of bruising from a fall, but other than that, he's fine. They never even got around to questioning us.”

“You were there for nearly a week.” Emily said, her face clouding.

“Yeah, day after they caught us, they got their hands on a Shade.”

She glanced past him at the others still milling about. “Is that what has you bothered?”

“They've never been nothing but trouble.” Bryan said with a sigh. He didn't have Riley's ability to see into the future, but he didn't need it to see that Alaric wasn't thinking with his upstairs brain. Bryan had seen it in his eyes. “Alaric insisted we bring him with us when we escaped. He's pretty banged up.”

“And Alaric wouldn't leave him behind.” She nodded. She knew her son better than most. “Thank you, Bryan.”

“There's a lot to do, I should go update the map, and—“ Her hand on his arm stopped him.

“That can wait. You and Riley both need some sleep.”

“I don't need a mother, Emily,” Bryan said.

She smiled at him. “Apparently, you do, Bryan.” She reached for Riley, taking his arm and walking the two of them toward the back door. “I can hold down the fort a few more hours. You two get some sleep.”

Bryan couldn't hide his yawn, and so grudgingly agreed, trudging out to the spot where the trail broke. Riley kept moving off to the right at the fork, lifting a hand in farewell as he trudged uphill toward the cabin that he shared with Emily and Alaric.

Yawning wider now, Bryan headed down the trail that led to the cabin he had claimed as his own. It was smaller than most of the others, little more than a single room, but it suited him and no one expected him to share it with anyone. The dark deepened as he headed lower into the valley, and his steps slowed. The skies above him were brilliant with stars, and it was quiet so far from civilization.

Ahead of him the shadows moved and he stopped, his eyes working to figure out who or what was waiting for him in the dark. The silhouette of a large cat, something like a lioness, separated from the brush, moving toward him slowly. Gold eyes met his. The cat looked at him like it wanted something.

Bryan shook his head and resumed his walk. He could feel her behind him, even as he climbed the stairs to his cabin door. “Come on if you're coming. I'm tired and I'm cold.”

He held the door and watched the cat bound up the last two stairs and into the cabin. He stepped in behind her, pulling the door closed. He kept his eyes averted and crossed to the wood burning stove, building up a small fire. By the time he'd finished, Sahara was a woman again, wrapped in the quilt from his bed.

The room was dark but for the light of the small fire in the open stove. “Did you want something?”

She tossed dark hair over her shoulder, her eyes still mostly gold as she moved closer. “You were a prisoner for a week.”

He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “And?”

“And, I know what they do to prisoners, especially ones that they think can help them.”

Bryan moved across the room to the table to light the lantern sitting on it. “They didn't even try. That freak adept didn't even travel with us, just drugged us so we couldn't whammy our way out.”

Her eyes sparkled and the corner of her mouth tugged upward. “Is that the technical word for what you do?”

Bryan shrugged. “Wasn't my word. One of our guards used it.” He turned to lean back against the table.

“And I'm just supposed to take your word for it that they didn't break you and turn you into a killer?” Sahara asked.

Bryan knew she had every right to suspect him. She had been a prisoner longer and had been subjected to untold amounts of torture as they tried to find a way to break her psyche and reprogram her to work for them. Bryan knew the highlights. After Emily had read Sahara and the girls she'd shared the information with Alaric and him.

“I guess you have a point.” He met her intense stare. “What did you plan to do about it?”

She took a step closer. “I have my own ways of reading people.”

“Is that so?” Bryan asked, slightly nervous as she came closer.

Her eyes caught his, brown and gold and fierce. Before he could respond, her hand shot out and grabbed his groin, claws making themselves very obvious. If he tried to move, she could unman him without much effort.

He swallowed and held up both hands as a sign of surrender. “Take it easy. Like you, I'm not easy to break. And they didn't even try. They got the Shade and forgot we were even there.”

Her hand tightened almost imperceptibly and her eyes searched his. To his surprise, he could almost feel her pressing into his shields. He had appreciated her mind the few times he'd had reason to read the surface of it. For someone who wasn't a part of his tribe, her mind was ordered and strong. He held his shields against her for a moment, then rolled them open, curious if she was conscious of what she was doing.

Her surprising mind surged, but she didn't cross the barrier into his. The cat was strong, instinct and fire. The heat seeped into him and for a moment he thought she would devour him. The claws withdrew, but her hand didn't, and her eyes never strayed from his as she leaned in closer. Her teeth caught his lower lip and tugged lightly.

Bryan knew that what they were both thinking was a bad idea, but that didn't stop him from sliding a hand into her hair, pulling her in to return the favor, nipping at her lip until they crashed into a possessive kiss. His hand on her hip brought them flush against one another, then her hands on his hips turned them, sending a chair crashing. The quilt fell to the floor, leaving her naked in his arms.

Sahara lifted one hip to sit on the table before she grabbed Bryan by his shirt, dragging him in to kiss again. He licked her lips open, then nipped at her chin, kissing and licking down her neck. Her fingers were in his hair, her hands guiding him lower.

He paused, glancing up at her. “You know this is probably a bad idea?”

Her grin was fierce. “All the best ideas are,” she responded. “I just hope you can keep up.”

* * *

“You're not even trying, Alexis.”

She closed her eyes and tried to ignore the voice. It wasn't so much that she wasn't trying; it was more that she was trying something different than what he had demanded. Wriggling against her restraints, she re-focused and tried again.

The problem, as she saw it, was that it was impossible to concentrate with him and the doctor, not to mention the goons in the observation room watching her like she might suddenly explode. Considering the experimentation they'd done on her, it was at least as possible as anything else.

The fact that he didn't react to any of those thoughts meant that at least she'd been successful in building a wall he couldn't get around, and it was well enough camouflaged that he didn't even seem to know it was there.

Which meant she could finally start planning her escape. She bit down on her sense of victory and turned her mind to the task he wanted her to complete. Her skin slicked with sweat as she reached out for the four elements set on the table.

As usual, fire came the easiest, the candle flaring to life, the flame dancing. Water responded next, sloshing against the side of the glass. The stone that represented earth shook a little, but nothing she had could make the feather lift on the air. She gasped and let it all go, panting as she opened her eyes.

“That's it. I'm done with her. If she isn't even going to try, and we're only halfway through the procedures…” He sighed and turned his back on her. “It isn't worth my time.”

“Sir, we did only complete the cycle yesterday. Give her body time too—”

“No. It's time to move on to a new subject.” The Doctor removed her restraints and she shifted to sit up. “Take my daughter back to her room.”

The doctor helped her from the procedure chair into a wheelchair and took her from the room. “I told him you'd need to complete the initiations to master them.”

“As usual, he only listens to himself,” she responded. They stopped outside the door to her room and she stood.

“Get some rest, Zero.”

“Yeah, I'll do that, Doc.” She let herself into the room that had been her home since her mother's death a few years before. The stark white of the walls was offset by splashes of neon orange and a verdant green that she'd painted against her father's wishes.

Collapsing on the small bed, she reached under it for a bag, pulling it up onto her lap. She rummaged through it without pulling anything out, keeping the contents hidden from the cameras. She was almost ready.

She'd need to move fast once she was. If her father kept to his regular schedule, he'd leave in the morning for his trip west. She would make her move when he was gone and security was lighter. She wasn't worried about getting out of the compound, she'd done that enough times in the past. No, her concern was not letting them catch up with her once she was out. She needed time to complete her initiation, before her father buried her memory of what he had done to her, before she forgot she was ready for it.

* * *

Raven ducked the punch meant for her head and moved to her left, reaching both hands out to grab her opponent and use the momentum of his jab to throw him to the ground. She pivoted fast, straddling over him and dropping to her knees, pinning him and getting her hands on his neck.

He tapped on the mat and she patted his shoulder. The instructor reached down to help the man up as Raven backed off. “And if your opponent is a Shade as Raven here is, that could be your death. Not just yours, but possibly hundreds of others.”

She looked at the line of new recruits. They were young, handpicked by Adam Darvin out of the FBI academy: three men who clearly didn't like getting beaten at hand to hand combat by a woman, and two women who were looking at her like they wanted to tear her apart on the mat. At least this group was more competent than the last, and so far, she hadn't found any of them harboring resentments that they hid to get the position.

The door to the gym opened and she looked up to see Darvin waving her over. She jogged past the class and rounded the heavy bag. “I need you.”

She nodded. “Where?”

“Atlanta. We have a problem.”

“Another Shade?” The number of rogue Shades seemed to be growing in direct response to the growing anti-Shade sentiment. There had been attacks in at least three cities since she'd gotten back to D.C.

Darvin gestured into the hall and she followed. “Probably not, unless they've all gone crazy like Darchel.”

“So more bloodless bodies?”

“Yeah, three so far.” He led the way to the elevator. She could feel the stress in his body without even touching him.

“Have you heard from Jerah?” Raven asked as they stepped into the elevator.

“No.” He rubbed his hands over his face and into his hair, ruffling the normally neat style.

“I told you California was hot.”

“I know you did. You know what I'm up against.” She did know. The agency didn't officially exist, and their mandate was hidden under the strictest clearance levels with their funding allocated from certain dark slush funds that fewer than fifty people knew existed.

They were quiet then until they were in his office. Darvin handed her a folder. “Here's what we have.”

“What's the weather in Atlanta?” she asked as she opened the file and glanced through it.

“They are holding without National Guard troops. Police are on high alert though, and if any more bodies drop, there will be riots.”

She nodded. “And I'm going there to…what, exactly?”

“Confirm that it is not actually a Shade, see if you can get any information on who is really doing the killing.”

“So standard recon then. Tell me who I'm working with.”

“Who do you want?”

That made her look up. The agency had been small when she started, with a limited number of agents from the scattered tribes. They had seen their fair share of losses in the last six months. “Someone I can trust.” She put the folder down on his desk. “The Shifter.”

Darvin scrubbed his face and for a minute she was sure he would tell her no. “Okay. He's dealing with a family matter right now. I'll have him meet you in Atlanta.”

She left his office then, aiming for the residential level of the secret government facility. Raven let herself into the small room she lived out of when she was in DC, pulling the elastic out of her tightly braided hair and running her fingers through it to loosen it. She was worried about Jerah. He was too green to be thrown into the thick of this mess, and she got the sense that his inexperience went beyond the job Darvin had him doing. He was young and sheltered, not exactly the best material for an operative.

The last word they had gotten was that the caravan taking Jerah and his handler to their next assignment was hit. The charred out remains of their vehicles had been found with very little sign of the people once in them. It was presumed they had all died, but both she and Darvin knew that the 8th Battalion was under orders to try to get a Shade alive.

Her last handler had confirmed that for them before she had disappeared into a small, dark hole reserved for traitors. She had also confirmed Raven's fear that the military had been infiltrated at multiple levels, and entire squads were serving a cause other than the will of the government.

The country was headed for civil war; she could see it and couldn't understand why the people higher up in the government couldn't. The war that was coming would be messy and rip the fabric of the country. There were no neat and orderly lines to be drawn. The people were divided everywhere.

Decisive action from the President now might prevent all-out war, but he was bound up in his re-election efforts and trying to placate both sides. No one wanted to be the person who advocated for actual war against US citizens.

Which put her in the position she was in.

Raven sighed and tried to put her thoughts to the coming mission instead. The only thing worse than a rogue Shade was someone pretending to be a rogue Shade to stir up trouble. Even with the Shifter at her back, she needed to be on her toes.

Chapter Three

The night was still, quiet and cold, and a little surreal. They hiked in near silence, working their way up the mountain toward this camp Alaric had said was waiting for them.

It had been hours since they had climbed out of the tiny cave in the boulders. At least twice, Mason had tried to give his rescuer an easy out, but Alaric never took them.

Mason was unsure why, and he couldn't seem to think straight when Alaric smiled at him. It was like his brain just stopped while his heart raced. He told himself it was just because he was woozy… too much light, not enough water. He'd be fine once he got a chance to soak and work on healing himself.

Alaric changed their direction, pointing at something Mason didn't see. They had fallen into an easy sort of silence that gave him time to analyze the damage to his body, even if he didn't have the energy to attempt healing.

Two of the ribs were broken, and a third was cracked. He knew his entire ribcage was a mass of bruises, and his back probably was as well. His wrists were raw from the ropes and chains, and he had to worry about infection, at least until he could get the open places closed up. His head was better than it had been, though he imagined his face was bruised.

Mason glanced aside at his rescuer. Alaric seemed to be in his own thoughts, his eyes dark as they picked out their path. He was taller than Mason by a couple of inches, and lean. There was an air about him; he was a leader of some kind, and the others had listened to him even when it was clear Bryan would rather have left Mason behind.

His gait was a little uneven, his step a little shorter on the right side. Mason frowned, and might have tried to sense the reason, but Alaric looked at him and derailed him. “Need a break?”

Mason nodded, following Alaric to a fallen tree to sit for a bit. He hurt all over and he really wasn't sure how much longer he could keep moving without getting some water.

“Won't be long now,” Alaric said, as if sensing his thought.

Mason looked up and Alaric gestured around them. “Water. There are all kinds of ponds and creeks through these woods. We should find some soon.”

Mason nodded. “Yeah, I can tell.” He licked his lips and figured he should maybe try once more to extricate himself from the man's care. “I'll be okay, if you wanted to—”

“In a hurry to get rid of me?” Alaric asked, grinning.

“No, I just…you don't have to…” He stuttered to a stop and shook his head. “I'll be fine.” Alaric didn't respond, and they sat in awkward silence for a long time before Mason inhaled and nodded. “If I sit any longer I might not get started again.”

“Onward then.” Alaric pointed north, and they set out. Like before they settled into a silence that let him focus on keeping himself moving. He was slowing down, his injuries draining him, when he sensed water near enough that he wouldn't completely send them off course to get to it. He grabbed Alaric's arm and gestured to the west. “Water.”

Alaric nodded and altered course, moving them through denser tree growth and up a ridge. “I don't see it.”

Mason held on to Alaric's shoulder, closing his eyes and reaching out to find it. “There.” He pointed down the other side of the hill. “Behind those trees.” He didn't wait for Alaric, just set out down the hill. Whether or not Alaric followed didn't matter. He needed to get into the water.

In a small valley was a pond, fed by a slow-moving stream from further up in the mountains. Mason started to strip, dumping his clothes on a fallen tree near the water. He paused only long enough to lay his hand flat on the surface to make sure it was clean, then he was wading in, dunking himself quickly and letting himself sink deep.

The pond was dark and cold and Mason relaxed almost immediately as the heat drained from his body. He surfaced long enough to get a lungful of air, then went under again, his hands stirring the water around him as he focused energy toward his ribcage.

There was no way he'd heal the ribs completely in one go, but he could start the process of getting the bones to start knitting back together and lessen the pain. He kept himself submerged until he needed air, then rose and sank again. He lost track of how long he'd soaked in the cold quiet. He knew they needed to keep moving. Even though they hadn't heard pursuit in a long time, that didn't mean it wasn't still out there.

Slowly he rose to the surface, drinking as much as he could on his way up and floating for a long moment before opening his eyes.

He was half surprised to find Alaric perched on the fallen tree, watching the water with a sort of smile on his face. “What?” Mason asked as he swam toward the shore.

“Nothing, just… I… nothing.”

Mason climbed out of the water, and he didn't miss the way Alaric looked him over before Alaric's face pinked up and he turned his eyes away. The water absorbed slower than it had earlier, but he still wouldn't need to dry himself before getting dressed.

“You could soak longer,” Alaric said as Mason started pulling his pants up.

Truth was, he wanted to, but he knew that staying still for too long wasn't a good idea. “We should probably keep moving. I get the impression that Colonel What's-his-name isn't particularly going to like that I got away.”

“You're not wrong. I got a pretty good read on him while he was distracted with you. He's a true fanatic, that one.” Alaric stood as Mason bent to tie his stolen boots.

“So, let's not wait around for his men to find us.” Mason said. He was starting to feel a little bit better for the water. It was going to take time to heal properly, but his head was clearer as they set out in the dark, working their way back up the hill and continuing in a northern sort of route.

Mason was just starting to feel the distant sun start rising when he paused to catch his breath, feeling Alaric's concern as he turned back to look at him.

“Town starts just a little way up. Not the friendliest folk, but we've bartered with them before. Don't like outsiders. You probably should let me do the talking.”

“You trust them?” Mason asked, rolling his stiff neck until it popped. He was sweating, which wasn't good. The trees offered a fair amount of shelter, but he was over sensitive, his skin red from the exposure. It wouldn't take much direct sunlight to cause blisters and lesions.

Alaric shrugged. “They're the kind of people those men holding us would consider evil, which I realize doesn't say much.”

“It's something I guess.” Mason exhaled slowly and nodded. “I'm right behind you.”

Alaric started walking again. The sun was almost fully up when they reached the dirt road that led into the town. Mason kept inside the tree cover as Alaric walked along the edge of the road.

Once they reached the town proper, Mason had to abandon the cover and Alaric moved them quickly to a wooden sidewalk shaded by an overhang. “Stay here. I'll poke my head in at the general store.”

Mason eased himself into a chair outside what he thought was probably a tavern of some sort, breathing through the rush of pain that had come with the brief exposure. Obviously, he still had a lot of healing to do.

The town was still waking up. The single paved road was devoid of vehicles. In fact, the only vehicle he saw was parked outside what looked like a garage. There was a gas pump out front and as he watched, a man in overalls came out of the door to tug the rolling garage door upward, wiping his hands on a dirty rag.

From where he sat he could see the door of the store where Alaric had disappeared, the garage, and a few wooden houses that looked like something out of an old western. Sitting still had his body wanting to shut down and sleep. He let his eyes drift closed.

It was a few minutes before Alaric was back, his step on the wooden sidewalk enough to pull Mason up from his stupor. A sleepy looking teenage girl came with him, keys in her hand. She walked past Mason and unlocked the doors, gesturing for them to follow. Mason sighed in relief as the cool air and darkness embraced him. Like the town, the tavern was something out of an Old West movie, housing a handful of tables, a player piano with a small stage, and a long bar that looked older than most buildings in DC.

The girl led them to a flight of stairs in the back, then up to a door that she also unlocked, dropping the key in Alaric's hand. “I'll bring some food over once Mom's done with Joey.”

“Thank you, Chelsea.” Alaric smiled at her, his face bright.

“Pop just went to sleep, but I'll leave him a note telling him you're here.”

Alaric held the door and Mason slipped inside while Alaric flirted with the girl, his eyes scanning over two twin beds with a nightstand between them. There was little else in the room, but two doors, one of which he found held a closet, and the other led into a bathroom with an old-fashioned claw foot tub.

He didn't even wait until Alaric had shut the door before he was filling the tub with cool water and pulling his clothes off. He sank into the water before the tub was close to full, closing his eyes and immediately pulling inside himself to get a better idea of how badly he was injured.

The ribs were starting to heal and he urged more energy to them, though he had little energy to spare. He was going to need to sleep before he could give it more effort. He drifted toward sleep as he soaked, knowing he shouldn't sleep in the tub, it was too deep and he could drown.

There was a knock on the door and Alaric poked his head in. “You hungry? Chelsea brought up some food.”

Mason's stomach growled and he grunted. “Yeah, give me a minute.”

“Take your time. She said she'd see if she could find some clothes in your size.”

Alaric closed the door again and Mason eased himself to a more upright position. The water was starting to warm as it siphoned off the heat from his burnt skin. He sat a while longer with the reddest of his skin in the water.

When he finally climbed out of the tub he knew he was well on his way to healing. He wrapped a towel around his waist, and turned his attention to the mirror over the sink.

He desperately needed a shave. The swelling and bruising from the fists of his tormentors was starting to retreat but the red of the sunburn made it look worse than it actually was. His talisman lay against his chest. He still didn't know why they had let him keep it. His fingers closed around it and he inhaled deeply.