Walk In My Shadow: A Gripping Romantic Thriller (Mirror Book 3): A Mirror Novel

by Stephanie Tyler

  Damn him. "Vance—"

  "I want to give you something you're not used to, and I plan to do so. Got it? No more 'fine.' No more 'temporary' and no more 'getting by' and 'living in the moment.' That last one's fine until you wake up one morning alone and realize you've used it as an excuse to keep everyone and everything at arm's length."

  Her breath caught in her throat, because he was right.

  They wanted the same things…but they had the same thing stopping them from getting it. They'd gotten past her history with Ethan, but the thought of coming to terms with the fact that, one day, this stalker could end them? And do so physically, yes, but worse than that, emotionally—break them down in a million, painful little ways, bleed their emotions raw until nothing was left but a hollow, useless shell just waiting for death.

  That's exactly what her father was when he invited the Black Magic Killer into their home.

  That's exactly what she'd promised herself she'd never be. "Okay," she said finally.

  "Okay what?"

  "Give me more than fine, Vance. More than temporary."

  Vance smiled at her, tugged her close. "I'll start right now."

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “I’ve got a proposition for you.” Leila propped on her elbow, obviously naked and very much in his bed, in his apartment, uninvited.

  Knox leaned against the doorjamb and studied her. He didn’t bother asking how she’d gotten into his locked building and past his elaborate security system. There probably wasn’t one built she couldn’t get through, and that both comforted him and scared the fuck out of him.

  And that last part? Definitely turned him on. “You naked in my bed is an invitation, not a proposition, babe.”

  She smiled. “I’ve got another invitation. Come work for me.”

  It wasn’t the first time she’d made that offer, but definitely the most tempting, given the timing and the current climate at the CIA. “For you?”

  “If you want me to say ‘with me,’ you’d have to have a trial run with the business.” She tilted her head, studying him. “But that’s not out of the question.”

  His immediate thought was to stop talking, strip and join her. And maybe even as late as last night, he would’ve. But his need to help Vance won out over bed, because the more he pitched in, the faster they could smoke out the asshole stalking him.

  He shook his head, told her gently, “We’ve had a good ride, babe, but I think I’ve got to go it alone.”

  Her smile was rueful as she slid out of bed and put her wrap dress on over her naked body. She slid into her heels, picked up her bag and walked toward him, hips swaying as if she’d expected his answer.

  She cupped his cheek against a cool palm. “It’s always a good ride with you, Knox. Always will be,” she murmured. “You know how to reach me. And I know you will.”

  He stared after her for a brief moment, finally realizing she didn’t know him at all.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Abby woke with a start the next morning. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept so deeply or so well, and she supposed that good sex on a regular basis, plus a baring of the soul, went a long way toward a peaceful slumber.

  Still, under the current circumstances both she and Vance were facing, five straight hours of shut-eye was pretty goddamned amazing.

  On the other hand, it appeared that Vance hadn’t gotten the same amount of sleep. His side of the bed was cold, as if he’d vacated it a while ago. She didn’t smell coffee brewing and it was very quiet.

  Too quiet.

  Shit.

  She was up, weapon by her side, prowling the house instead of calling for Vance.

  He was nowhere to be found. His shoes were gone, as was his phone and wallet, which meant he’d gotten dressed before he’d left. So he wasn’t dragged out of her house unconscious—he’d snuck out.

  She held her weapon by her side and scanned the downstairs again. She caught sight of the paper by the front door, looking like it had fallen over at some point.

  Or maybe it had simply been slid under the door.

  Either way, she forced herself to take the time to put her gloves on before picking it up to read it.

  Abby—

  We both know deep down that this can’t work. I’ve got to handle this shit on my own, and the best way to do it is to leave you here, safe and sound, and go hunting. Just like Ethan did.

  I’ll get him, Abby. Just please, for me, stay safe. Be well. Don’t follow me. This was hard enough as it is.

  Love,

  Vance

  “I don’t believe it,” Abby insisted ten minutes later as Teige, Jacoby and Kayla all stood in front of her reading the same note. “My gut says this note is bullshit.

  “But he’s told you this before, yes?” Teige asked, never one to couch his thoughts, especially when time was of the essence. “I know he’s mentioned the same sentiment to me.”

  “This.” She shook the note at him. “Is a lie. Don’t question that, Teige.”

  Teige held his hands up in silent surrender. “Done.”

  Jacoby clapped his hands together. “Let’s move on. How much of a head start does he have on us?”

  Abby mentally calculated. “I fell asleep with him after three in the morning. And then he got up a little later—twelve minutes after four—because he was thirsty. I fell right back to sleep.”

  “So you don’t know if he got back into bed after that,” Jacoby said.

  “No, I don’t.”

  “I think you’d know if he did. Let’s say he’s been MIA since four twelve this morning. It’s nine forty-five a.m. T-minus…” He checked his watch, calculating the amount of time a serial killer would hold their prey. The amount of time between a kidnapping and a killing.

  It was part conjecture, part fact, backed by years of FBI profiling statistics.

  Basically, it was “a wing and a prayer” time.

  “Abby, listen—Vance is strong. He hadn’t been beaten down the way Ethan was,” Jacoby told her. “He knows what he’s up against.”

  He might, but the guilt he carried over Ethan was an immense weight that could drag him under.

  He won’t let it, she demanded of the universe fiercely. To Jacoby, she said, “I didn’t hear any helicopters land on the roof. His bike is still here. Someone took him—I’ll run the security cams and see if it caught any cars on the street.” “I’ll check flight plans for the general vicinity,” Teige said, already on both the computer and phone simultaneously.

  She refused to go there. She would concentrate on driving distance. Places that meant something to Vance.

  “Did you call Knox?” Kayla asked her now.

  “No—let me text him. He’ll come quickly.” Abby did so, and as she waited for a response, she said, “Vance would’ve fought,” as much to herself as to Kayla.

  “Unless they’re threatening him with someone,” Kayla said, and the men turned to look at her. “Maybe this person has help. A hire, who doesn’t know anything more than ‘when I call, execute this plan.’” They all continued staring at her. “What?”

  “Nothing. It’s good,” Jacoby told her.

  “I read,” she sniffed and waved at all of them. “And I listen to all you people when I’m not supposed to.”

  Abby went onto the back porch to think, leaving the three of them to go over their theories and do what they needed to on the computer and phones. They were helping, doing what they could, but she needed a few moments of solitude to let all the information she had download and sort itself out.

  Knox still hadn’t called or texted. She stared at her phone, knowing that something had happened to Knox as well.

  “He’s probably with that chick who’s in town,” Teige had said a few minutes earlier.

  “What chick?”

  “Her name’s Leila. She’s a former operative.”

  “And he trusteed her?”

  “From what Vance told me, Knox saved her life. Gr
anted, she did try to kill him first, but hey, he’s seen her twice this week and she didn’t seem to have any ulterior motives,” Teige had added.

  “Her,” Abby repeated, out loud to herself. Why hadn’t she considered that? She’d been so focused, so sure that the stalker was a he that she, of all people, missed the obvious.

  But before she could turn to go inside to inform the others, she heard the low click of a Glock being primed. She looked up to see a tall, dark-haired woman with her finger on the trigger.

  “Hi, Abby. I’m Leila. You’ll need to come with me.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Vance woke in a room that looked like a padded cell. He blinked, forced down the panic like he’d been taught.

  You were at Abby’s. In her bed. And then…

  The text.

  The honor of your presence is requested outside

  Until that moment, he hadn’t known sarcasm could drip from a text. He had known that this meeting was coming, only a matter of time, so rather than run from it he’d walked into it willingly. He hadn’t wanted to waste more time wondering if this was the beginning or the end. He just needed it to end so he could get to his new beginning.

  Had Ethan had a similar meeting at one point?

  He started to drift off again and bit the inside of his cheek hard. He tasted blood, spit it out between his front teeth on a perfect arc, wanting to howl with anger.

  He tested the bonds. Chains locked to metal, locking thicker cuffs on one end and the wall on the other. He wanted to get up and give them a good yank, but he had to conserve his energy for whatever was coming next.

  After another twenty minutes, he heard the door behind him open, but he didn’t turn to look at who’d entered. Instead, he stared straight ahead at the table that had been set up in front of him, with a single chair behind it.

  He heard the click of heels on the floor. Heels had a distinctive click depending on whether the shoes were men’s or women’s, and he could even distinguish between the very different types of heels.

  These were stilettos.

  Fuck.

  He flexed his fists. His head ached and his mouth tasted like cotton and blood. He’d been hit on the head and drugged, because a guy like him didn’t go down easily.

  Especially for a woman. Then again, this woman had the help of the committee, drugs…and a taser, if his aching muscles were correct.

  She approached the table and placed down the file folders she’d held. He stared at her through narrowed eyes, because otherwise there were two of her, the same sleek, dark-haired, glasses-wearing doctor who’d helped him when Abby hurt her ribs in the CIA facility.

  “You knew what you were coming here for, but you’re still surprised to see me,” Nita acknowledged crisply, her fashion-forward black-framed glasses the perfect accessory, because she had perfect eyesight. At least that’s what she’d told him one night after work, when they’d gone out for drinks and she’d comforted him about Ethan.

  Comforting didn’t extend to sleeping together, although she would’ve. But he’d shut that down, because fucking where you work was too complicated, and because he hadn’t been into her. She was excellent at her job but she always made him want to…

  Run.

  Now he understood why and cursed himself for not questioning his instincts. At the time, he’d assumed it was because she’d wanted more than he could give her. And truly, that appeared to be exactly the outcome.

  She laughed at what must’ve been his expression of complete and utter what the fuck and pulled her glasses off. “You’re shocked. I love that. I mean, how amazing is it to be underrated, all the time, because of my sex? None of you even took into consideration that I could be a woman—you all assumed it had to be a man, tracking Ethan the entire time.” She made a tsk-tsk sound by clicking her tongue. “Wrong, so wrong. But fun to watch. We all appreciated it.”

  We.

  Play along, Vance. He managed to croak, “Glad to give you all some fun. So what do I have to do to make it right?”

  “It’s about time you put a piece on the board. Welcome to the game, Vance.”

  The operator who’d come up to her was as lethal as she was gorgeous. Abby was jealous of the former, especially as she seethed at being taken advantage of.

  Leila had moved Abby quickly into a waiting car after forcing her to hand over her phone. She’d cuffed Abby’s wrists together and she’d taken off like a shot in her sleek Porsche.

  “Please—I know you understand that I have to find Vance. If something happens to him…”

  Leila glanced over at her. “I know you’re worried.”

  “Then take me back to the house. Work with us to find him,” Abby suggested.

  “Sorry, love. Both Vance and Knox made me promise to keep you safe if something happened to Vance.”

  “And you always take orders from men?” Abby muttered. The sideways glance she received in return told Abby she’d hit her mark.

  “Knox mentioned you were smart. I didn’t want to believe him. I guess I didn’t give you enough credit.”

  “The stalker’s in my backyard. We’ve got an advantage and I’m not going to hide.”

  Leila stopped at a red light and turned to stare at Abby. “This person’s hunted Ethan through jungles and hellholes. Ruined his life before he took it. Just because you’re not in some green hell, don’t make the mistake of believing you’re on solid ground.”

  “The stalker’s a woman. How do I know it’s not you?” Abby demanded.

  Leila glanced over at her. “Because you know. Think about it.”

  Abby did, closed her eyes and forgot how worried everyone back at the house had to be, forgot that Leila could be playing her.

  Instincts, Abby. They’ve kept you alive this long.

  And then, it popped into her head. Her, having just bruised the hell out of her ribs so she didn’t have to take the lie detector test. The doctor giving her a small smile after Abby merely shrugged and said, “Hurts a little,” and countering with, “Hurts like a bitch. I’ve always loved that expression. No one can hurt quite the way a bitch can make you hurt.”

  At the time, it had actually made Abby smile back in solidarity. She’d thought the doctor was giving her a little pat on the back, a ‘great job for getting through this’ kind of thing.

  But what if Nita had been sending another message? “I think it’s the doctor. Nita,” she clarified. Leila didn’t seem surprised, leaving Abby to demand, “How long have you known?”

  “Unfortunately, probably ten minutes longer than you have.”

  “So we have to do something.”

  “Doing something is what got Vance into this situation. Vengeance doesn’t bring back the dead.”

  “Fuck your lectures,” Abby spat. “Nita has Vance, and I think she’s got Knox too. Unless you happen to have him in your trunk.”

  “I haven’t seen Knox since last night,” Leila admitted after several long moments. “I was waiting for him at his place. I stayed for about four hours and then I left.”

  “And he didn’t mention going anywhere?”

  “Honey, we weren’t really talking.”

  “Right.” Abby fought the urge to roll her eyes. Maybe this was how spies did it. Then again, she’d learned that all spies—and most people—lied when necessary to further their cause. “Knox isn’t answering any of my calls. Nothing would keep him from helping me help Vance. Something’s wrong.”

  Leila frowned. “He saved my life once, years ago.”

  “So you owe him.”

  “In simple terms, yes. But for me, it’s so much more complicated than that.” Leila glanced in the rearview mirror. “Do you trust any man you’re in love with completely?”

  “I do. I did. I mean…” Abby paused, frustrated.

  “Exactly. We’ve all been burned enough to know that trust isn’t automatic. Trust is earned. Sometimes it’s taken. But most of the time, we just have to dive in and pray we’re doing the righ
t thing.”

  “What’s the right thing, Leila?”

  Leila considered that as she drove along the curving road. “I’ve always trusted my instincts, but when it comes to Knox I’m never sure if I’m getting in my own way. But now thanks to you, I know what the right thing is. And it’s letting me do this alone.”

  “I thought you were keeping me safe.”

  “From yourself. From doing anything stupid,” Leila agreed.

  “Too late.” Abby leaned over awkwardly but still managed to grab the wheel with handcuffed wrists to angle it—and the car—to a hard left.

  From there, it was a blur. After the car raced off the road and landed half in a ditch, Leila got out to grab Abby and stop her from going anywhere while Abby concentrated on breaking the chain between the cuffs. That was a trick Teige and Jacoby had shown her and made her practice a thousand times on as many different brands of cuffs. She’d be left with metal bracelets but her arms wouldn’t be tied.

  And even though Abby pretended that escape was her agenda, she didn’t plan on leaving Leila’s side. She wanted Leila to lead her to Vance and Knox, and fast, and Leila wanted to keep her busy, keep the group scattered.

  “Abby, be reasonable—“

  “Fuck you,” Abby spat as Leila caught her and wrestled her to the ground.

  “Fine. You can come with me.”

  “I’m not going anywhere with you,” Abby lied, slamming her hand under Leila’s chin and throwing the operative off her.

  Abby had fought for her life before, but this was harder, because she hated to throw a fight. In truth, she might’ve lost this one anyway but she still managed to get off a few good punches and satisfying kicks, just to make it look good.

  The operative was a formidable opponent. Obviously she thought Abby was one as well, calling her “Bitch” after Abby landed a particularly harsh kick to her stomach.

  “I hope that’s a compliment.” But once Leila had her pinned to the hood of the car with her arm behind her back, Abby warned, “If you hurt either Vance or Knox…”