Out of Shadows

by N. J. Walters

  Something flew in front of her and she jumped back with a shriek. Her keys flew through the air as she thrust her hands in front of her. Dovina’s heart raced and adrenaline pumped through her veins.

  She slapped one hand over her pounding heart and gave a nervous laugh.

  “Ohmygod. I can’t believe I just did that. It had to be a bat or a bird.” Maybe coming here at night wasn’t such a good idea. Thankfully, the flashlight hadn’t gone out and she easily found her keys. Bending down, she scooped them up and shone the light on the path.

  “I should go back.” That would be the smart thing to do. The sensible thing. The last thing she needed to do was trip in the dark and maybe sprain her ankle or worse. Still, she couldn’t make herself turn around and leave.

  “This is ridiculous,” she muttered. A bullfrog sent up a refrain a few feet away as if agreeing with her. She turned around and took two steps back toward her car. 11

  N.J. Walters

  Swearing, she spun around and stomped toward the bridge. “One quick peek,” she promised herself. “Then it’s back to the hotel for dinner.”

  She hurried as fast as she dared. The closer she got to the bridge, the more the fine hairs on the back of her neck rose. Something or someone was watching her. It was probably just an owl or a squirrel or some other form of wildlife, but still, it was creeping her out.

  Her steps slowed until she was barely moving forward. The bridge came into view. It wasn’t overly large or impressive. More a small footbridge. The air around her suddenly changed. The crickets stopped singing and the frogs went quiet. She spun around. “Who’s there?” Probably another tourist or maybe some local kid who thought it was fun to scare visitors like herself. “Very funny,” she called out.

  A feeling of dread crept over her. For the first time in her life, Dovina was afraid of the dark. She, who’d visited cemeteries around the world, who’d tromped through the Black Forest in Germany in search of a local legend, who’d even visited Bran Castle—

  what most folks thought of as Dracula’s Castle—for heaven’s sake, was afraid in a small stretch of woods in upstate New York.

  A sound trickled into the air around her. It sounded like someone breathing heavily. Impossible. Even if she wasn’t alone, she wouldn’t be able to hear a person breathe unless they were right beside her. That thought unfroze her feet and she spun in a circle. This was no longer fun.

  She hurried down the path, retracing her steps. “One foot in front of the other.”

  She’d be back on the main road in no time. From there, it was a short walk back to her car.

  A twig cracked, the sounds echoing through the air. She froze and listened. Nothing but the mournful sound of the wind whistling through the trees. She felt it in the soles of her feet first, a vibration that grew stronger with each passing second. Then she heard it, the hard clop of a horse’s hooves on dirt. Living on the family ranch for several years, she was very familiar with the sound.

  She looked behind her, pointing her flashlight into the impenetrable gloom. The horse trumpeted as the sound of his hooves got closer. She caught a glimpse of movement in the distance. Then her flashlight went dead.

  “Oh shit.” Stuffing her keys in her coat pocket, she whirled and started to run. No pretext at being anything other than terrified. If this was local kids trying to scare a solitary female tourist, they were doing a hell of a job. And what if it wasn’t a kid? What if it was some crazy person? Or worse?

  Heart pounding, legs and lungs pumping, she raced through the trees, branches slapping at her arms and face. The sound of her labored breathing drowned out the pounding of hooves, but she could still feel the vibration in the ground. Something flew past her in the woods. She didn’t stop, didn’t pause. Dovina was running for her life. A dark mass appeared on the path ahead of her. She stumbled to a 12

  Out of Shadows

  stop. Tripping over a rock, she fell to her knees, barely catching herself on her hands. Gravel tore at her palms and she cried out.

  She jerked her head up, unable to believe what was before her. A large black horse with reddish eyes and steam coming from its nose rose up on its hind legs. The rider, a huge black shadow, raised one arm. The moon caught a glint of metal. A sword? He was holding a sword. She blinked twice to be certain.

  The horse came back down and the clouds moved away, letting the full light of the partial moon illuminate the specter before her. She shook her head in disbelief. It couldn’t be. She’d seen him clearly for a brief second and he had no head. Impossible. It couldn’t be. Yet it was. She’d talked to people all around the world in person and via email, many of whom claimed to see vampires, ghosts, werewolves and other creatures of myth and lore. But never had she seen anything resembling the paranormal herself. Until now.

  Her logical mind was scrambling to find a rational explanation, while her survival instincts were screaming at her to run. She ignored her brain, jumped to her feet and ran. She’d figure it out later, right now getting out of here alive was paramount. Dovina whirled around and raced back toward the bridge. It was believed that the horseman couldn’t cross water, so if she could get over the bridge she should be okay. At least she hoped she’d be okay. She really didn’t have a choice, not with him blocking the path back to civilization.

  Sweat coated her body as she ran faster than she’d ever run in her life. For once, she wished she were less of a bookworm and more of an athlete. The bridge got closer as pounding of the horse’s hooves got louder. A maniacal laugh cut through the dark. She heard the swish of his blade as he brandished it through the air. She was going to die.

  Damned if she would. Dovina dug deep and pushed harder. The muscles in her legs cramped, her lungs screamed as she managed to quicken her pace. Her heart was pounding at a furious rate as she scrambled toward the bridge. She jumped onto the wooden structure, not stopping until she was on the other side. Only then did she glance behind her.

  As if he’d been waiting for her, the horseman appeared on the far side of the bridge. Again, laughter filled the air. “You cannot escape me. I will have you.” His deep booming voice echoed through the woods, coming from nowhere, yet everywhere at the same time. The horse reared again and she took a step back. The horseman reined in the horse and urged the great beast forward. Its foreleg stepped on the wooden structure. Oh god, the water and the bridge wasn’t going to stop it. Real or ghost, it didn’t matter. It was after her.

  The horse had placed only one hoof on the bridge when a massive shadow appeared in front of her, blocking her view of the horse and rider. Dovina blinked and the shadow coalesced into the body of a man. She shrieked, certain the horseman had dismounted and was almost upon her.

  13

  N.J. Walters

  It was then she saw his head. Whoever this man was, he at least had a head. “Run. He has a sword.” For some reason, she felt compelled to warn this stranger who’d put himself between her and the deadly horseman.

  “So do I,” came his gruff reply. He didn’t take his eyes off the horseman as he reached behind his neck. His hand disappeared beneath the long black duster he wore. The sound of metal against metal reverberated through the air as he drew his weapon from an unseen sheath. The stranger brandished a huge sword that glinted in the dim light trickling down from the moon.

  Dovina backed away from the scene in front of her until she hit a tree. She clutched at the trunk for support, the bark digging into her already abused palms.

  “She is mine, warrior.” Dovina recognized the horseman’s voice, filled with deadly intent. It was particularly menacing for a voice to be emanating from a man with no visible head.

  “Then come and get her.” Her rescuer’s voice was deep and calm as if he’d issued an invitation to dinner instead of to a probable fight to the death. The horse started toward him. Stopped. Pawed the air. The horseman swore and yanked the horse down and urged it forward. The horse would not cross the bridge. Maybe it was afraid of the man or maybe ther
e was some truth to the myth that the horseman couldn’t cross water.

  Dovina held her breath. Waiting. The atmosphere was charged with barely suppressed violence. Seconds felt like hours. The horseman finally whirled his mount away. “Tell your Shadow Lord this isn’t over, warrior. This one is mine.”

  She sensed the man’s surprise. Just who the heck was he and who was this Shadow Lord? The horseman kicked the side of his horse with his heels. The animal gave a shrill neighing sound and took off down the path. The sound of his hoofs faded into the distance. Then they were gone.

  The crickets started to chirp and the frogs began their nightly serenade. To them, the danger was past. Dovina wasn’t so sure. The stranger returned his weapon to his hidden sheath and spun around to face her.

  He was tall, maybe around six feet. But he seemed bigger as he got closer. He was wearing a long leather coat that brushed against his calves, dark pants and shirt. She couldn’t tell if they were leather, not in this light. His boots made no sound as he strode toward her.

  Belatedly, Dovina realized she should have run while the horseman and the stranger had been arguing over her. Her rescuer walked into a moonbeam and the light glinted off his long hair. It looked blond, but she couldn’t be certain. Two thin braids framed his face and the rest of his hair flowed halfway down his back. She took a step back, but he kept on coming. For some reason she wasn’t afraid of him. Not like she’d been of the horseman. She didn’t think a man who would rescue her would hurt her. Of course, her rational mind was beginning to kick in. Was this some 14

  Out of Shadows

  kind of historical reenactment? She knew they did that kind of thing here around Halloween. Maybe she’d stepped in the middle of some kind of rehearsal. She opened her mouth to thank her rescuer and ask him some questions, but he spoke first.

  “What the devil are you doing out here by yourself?” He caught her by the upper arm and started to drag her toward the bridge. She ignored the heat from his hand, which seeped into her skin. Her stomach gave a flutter, partly fear and partly something else. Desire. But that was crazy. She didn’t even know the man. Unaware of her growing turmoil, he continued to tow her behind him. His grip wasn’t hurting her, but she didn’t like it. She dug in her heels and pulled away. The man shook his head, obviously exasperated with her. The clouds chose that moment to clear enough for her to see his face. His hair was indeed blond. There was a stubborn set to his jaw. His lips were pulled into a firm line of displeasure. He wasn’t handsome, not in a classic sense, but there was no denying the raw, animal magnetism radiating from him. His nose was straight, his forehead high. But it was his eyes that captured her. They were as black and as deep as the night.

  “Who are you?”

  He stared at her and then one corner of his mouth kicked up in the slightest of grins. “I am Hadeon. And you are Dovina Horne.”

  She’d barely registered his unusual name when she realized he knew hers. How?

  She took a quick step away from him. They were totally isolated. He was an incredibly strong man with a sword and she was a short, plump woman, whose legs were already jelly after running for so long. Not good odds for her.

  “How do you know my name?” She was proud of the fact there was no quaver in her voice.

  “I know many things about you.”

  That didn’t exactly ease her fears. Was he some kind of stalker? Was that how he’d managed to be here when she needed him. Her eyes narrowed. Or maybe he’d planned all of this.

  “Did you ask that other guy to play the headless horseman to scare me?”

  He jerked back as though she’d hit him. She could sense his indignation before he spoke. “I did not.”

  He offered no other explanation and she was left standing there, feeling a little foolish and a lot frightened. Her heart was still tripping along way too fast, her body still mainlining adrenaline. When the crash came it was going to hit hard.

  “I don’t understand.” Her body was shaking and her knees buckled. She caught hold of a tree for support. Hadeon took a step toward her and she tensed, ready to run if she had to. He stopped dead in his tracks.

  “I won’t hurt you.”

  15

  N.J. Walters

  “I’m just supposed to take your word for that?” She was close enough to see the way the muscles in his jaw worked. He wasn’t happy with her. That was fine by Dovina. Her evening hadn’t exactly been a walk in the park.

  “Then leave.” He put out his arm and motioned her toward the bridge. Relief hit her like a ton of bricks. He was going to let her go. If she could make it back to her car, she could go to the safety of her hotel and try to make sense of all this. She pushed away from the tree and made a wide circle around him. Her head was throbbing, her lungs ached and her legs were weak. Each step was difficult. The night seemed to close in around her and she began to sway. Her knees buckled and she felt herself falling.

  Strong arms caught her and she was swept up against a hard, masculine chest. Safe. She felt utterly and completely safe. Maybe she’d lost her mind, but at this moment she didn’t care. Her eyelids fluttered shut and darkness claimed her. 16

  Out of Shadows

  Chapter Two

  Hadeon held the woman in his arms. She was small, but she had curves in all the right places. His cock, which had been hard from the moment he’d laid eyes on her began to throb and push incessantly against the zipper of his leather pants. He was filled with the wild urge to strip her naked and take her on the hard ground. He growled low in his chest. There was a time when he would have done just that. He was Thracian by birth, a horseman of the steppes of Eastern Europe and Asia, a rider and fighter without equal. A mercenary who took what he wanted without thought or hesitation.

  But that was long ago. On the day he died a human death, he’d pledged himself to the service of the Shadow Lord and not once had he failed in that duty. And his task was to protect Dovina Horne, not claim her as a prize of battle and fuck her senseless. He stalked into the shadows, shifted his sword out of the way and sat beneath an oak tree with his precious bundle cradled in his arms. It had been centuries since he’d been this close to a woman. The scent of warm skin and soap tickled his nostrils. She smelled of lavender. He buried his face in the curve of her neck and inhaled. His cock jerked. He ignored the growing pressure and simply enjoyed the feel of her soft curves nestled against his hard muscles.

  The Shadow Lord had briefed him on his charge. The facts Hadeon had been given were correct, but there was so much more to Dovina than a physical description of who and what she was.

  Hadeon fingered a lock of her hair, smiling at the way the strand curled around his finger, clinging to it. The Shadow Lord had told him she had red, curly hair. He did not tell him that her curls were alive with color or that they were so incredibly soft. Nor did he tell him that her green eyes grew even darker when she was frightened. She reminded him of a frightened owl with her wire-rimmed glasses perched on her nose and her big eyes staring up at him.

  No, not an owl. She was too plump to be an owl. She wasn’t a dove either, as her name implied. That was too cold and his little bird was all fire. Maybe a partridge with her colorful plumage and curves. He chuckled. He didn’t think she’d appreciate the comparison.

  He supported her against one arm and cupped her face with his free hand. Her skin was like porcelain, her skin pale. He frowned as he rubbed his thumb over her bottom lip. It was full and ripe for the kissing.

  17

  N.J. Walters

  One of his gifts as a Shadow Ryder was the ability to see perfectly in the dark. He could see her as well as if she were in full light. Her lashes fluttered beneath the frames of her glasses and her eyes opened.

  She gasped and jerked. He tightened his grip on her, not ready to let her go just yet. The night was long and she was safe with him. Or at least as safe as she wanted to be. A low whimper came from her parted lips and he eased her even closer, offering her his protection an
d the warmth of his body. “You are safe.”

  She licked her lips and Hadeon barely swallowed his groan of need. He didn’t think she had any idea how sexy she was, how tempting. He wanted to lick her lips, to taste her unique flavor and claim it as his own.

  “What happened?” She struggled to sit up. Reluctantly, he let her, still keeping her perched on his lap.

  He shrugged. “You fainted.”

  “I did not.”

  Her indignation made him smile. “My mistake. Maybe you were just planning on falling to the ground and taking a quick nap.”

  Dovina buried her face in her hands. “I can’t believe it. I actually fainted.”

  He rubbed his hand over her back, learning the curve of her spine as he moved it up and down. “You did well, considering.”

  She jerked her head up. “Considering what? You guys are just actors, right? This is all part of some October festivities?”

  Hadeon shook his head. “No. I was sent to protect you.” Something had been niggling at him since the entity had spoken. He didn’t think the enemy he was dealing with was human. That bothered him. He needed more information. That meant returning to the Shadow Realm. But not now. Not until he was certain Dovina would be safe while he was gone.

  “Protect me from what?” She tilted her chin up and he caught the stubborn jaw between his thumb and forefinger.

  “From whatever that was. The horseman.”

  “But he can’t be real. There’s no such thing as a headless horseman. That’s just legend.” The color was returning to her face and her voice was steadying with each passing second. Intelligence shone in her eyes and determination imbued every word she spoke.

  “What about me, am I real?” Hadeon brought her hip in tight to his body. His erection pressed against it.

  Dovina stilled and swallowed, her throat rippling. The fear that had disappeared returned. He hated that, but he wanted her to know how much he wanted her.

  “Umm, I think I should go back to my hotel now.” She started to shove away, but he kept his arm around her waist, not quite ready to let her go. There was something about her that eased his loneliness, stilled the beast pacing restlessly within him. 18