Angel in the Shadows

by Amy Deason

  Through the window, she watched the falling snow as they sped through the night, the steady hiss of tires on the wet pavement breaking the silence. Her thoughts settled on Stacy, trying to figure out why she would put up with someone like Vance. She was a gorgeous woman that could have any man she wanted. Did she stay for money? For love? She would probably never know the reason, which was probably just as well. It still wouldn’t make any sense to her.

  “I wouldn’t worry too much about Stacy if I were you. She’s a big girl and she can take care of herself,” Seth said, his voice slipping over her like velvet in the darkness.

  Startled, she kept her eyes pinned to the window, refusing to look at him. “I don’t know what you mean.” Her voice wavered slightly as the unease coursed through her. He always seemed to know what she was thinking, like he was inside her head. And that was the last place she wanted him to be.

  “There’s no sense pretending you weren’t thinking about what happened back there. I heard the same things you did. It happens more often than you think.”

  “It’s none of my business what happened,” she answered, determined not to engage in conversation with him. Feeling his eyes on her, she turned to face him. Illuminated by the instrument panel, his pale eyes glowed in the dark interior of the car, making her breath catch unexpectedly.

  “No, it’s not.”

  The statement was simple, carrying with it an unseen threat. Her feelings of disquiet escalated another notch, rapidly increasing her heartbeat.

  “Just what is your business, Ms. Sinclair?” His voice was soft and insidious, winding around her carefully but with purpose.

  A faint demand weaved through his voice, carrying a significant weight with it. Insipid brown eyes drilled into her, seeking something deep within her. She had nothing to offer him.

  Swallowing painfully, she raised her chin defiantly, “I’m a photographer, Mr. Reynolds. That’s my business.”

  He continued to stare at her intently, his eyes never leaving her face as he drove.

  “I wonder.”

  The tires lost their tenuous grip on the wet highway and the car abruptly slid to the left. Crying out, she gripped the seat tightly, preparing herself for the impact as her heart lurched painfully in her chest. Continuing to look at her, Seth’s grip on the wheel remained relaxed as he brought the car back into the center of the road.

  “Shouldn’t you be watching what’s in front of you?” she whispered. Her panic was palpable. A living, breathing thing that stole the breath right out of her lungs.

  His eyes remained transfixed on her and she fought the overwhelming urge to squirm under their intensity. He seemed to be dissecting her personality, watching her, peering into the very depths of her soul.

  “Indeed,” he murmured, at last returning his attention to the road.

  By the time they reached the terminal, Madison’s nerves were stretched so tight she felt they might snap at any second. All she wanted to do was get away from Seth and lock her apartment door and never come out again. Just what the hell had Robert gotten her into? Fun my ass, this was a total nightmare!

  Climbing out of the car on shaky legs, she tried to steady herself. It didn’t escape her that Seth unfolded himself from the driver’s seat with a sinuous grace that absolutely disgusted her.

  “Thank you for the ride, Mr. Reynolds,” she lied.

  Seth’s eyes bored into her, through her. “It was no problem, Ms. Sinclair. Would you like me to see you to the ferry?”

  “No,” she replied a little too quickly. “No, thank you. I can make it from here.” The quicker she could escape him, the sooner she would be able to relax, forgetting this whole evening.

  A slow nod was his only response.

  Clenching her coat tighter around her, she turned her back to him and walked to the ticket booth, leaving him standing alone in the whirling snow.

  Seth watched her disappear into the terminal. His instincts told him that she was nothing to worry about. He should just return to the mansion where the real threat lived and breathed. Trouble was, he was only human regardless of the intense training that was supposed to drive that imperfection from him. Mistakes could be made. There was always a chance his normally infallible senses may have temporarily went AWOL. Hadn’t he been doubting himself lately? He should just climb back in the car and drive away, effectively erasing her from his mind. Something he should have no trouble doing.

  Still, he stared after her, reluctant to admit that Madison intrigued him. She was a conflicting mixture of emotions. Both defiant and submissive, forthright and secretive. She stared at him intently when she thought he wasn’t watching her but when he faced her, she seemed almost frozen. He found her interesting. Extremely interesting. It didn’t mean he had to let his thoughts linger on her. There were much more important things to focus on rather than some insignificant blond photographer that happened to peak his curiosity. But oddly, he couldn’t help it. This compulsion to investigate her further was so strong, so demanding, that it overshadowed anything else. That was a severe problem.

  Slightly alarmed by this unexpected rash of emotion, he decided to follow her. Maybe if he got this bizarre impulse out of his system, he could go back to what he was supposed to be doing without further interruption. He loathed to admit this weakness so rather than attribute this decision to his personal curiosity, he instead blamed it on his need to know every detail of Ms. Sinclair’s possible involvement in this little game. A lie that he was happy to contend with. Better to know and be done with it than to let it go and pay for it later. With a deep sigh that was less of an annoyance than he cared to admit, he slammed the car door and started into the terminal after her.

  Chapter 5

  The heavy curtain of snow lightened, then stopped, leaving a pale shroud that overlaid everything in this path. Darkness and fog were nearly complete, broken only by the bright lights of distant buildings making up the Manhattan skyline that beckoned her silently far across the black water. Thankful that there weren’t many people aboard the ferry at this hour, Madison made her way to the bottom level so she could look out over the water. She was cold but the lure of watching the shore approach was something she was never able to resist, no matter the weather. Hands clamped loosely on the icy, steel railing, she looked out over the inky stretch of water, knowing that soon she would be home. She would change her clothes, crawl into bed with her cat beside her, and forget everything about this night. Especially Seth Reynolds, she thought caustically.

  Removing the clip holding her chignon in place, she shook her hair out, letting it spill loosely over her shoulders. The night had been long and stressful and she was exhausted. Her mind was filled with too many thoughts, none of them holding any real importance. Willing them away, she closed her eyes, letting the rocking movements of the ferry relax her. She could have probably fallen asleep had the cold December air been rushing over her, enveloping her as the ferry churned steadily through the Hudson River. Eyes closed, she relished the winter air and the gentle swaying until the sound of footsteps broke her idle mood. A couple were starting down the metal stairs that connected the levels of the ferry, their voices arriving before they reached the bottom. The woman’s voice was high-pitched, cracking with emotion and there was no mistaking it. Madison had heard it not even an hour ago. Of all the luck for Stacy to be on the same ferry as she was. Someone must really have it out for her. Madison didn’t recognize the man’s voice but as Seth had informed her, it was none of her business. She had to agree with him on that at least.

  The last thing she wanted to do was run into Vance’s model of a girlfriend. Turning from the water, she moved around the outer wall of the ferry, planning to take the long way around. She heard the heavy double doors open just as she rounded the corner only to come up short. A mountain of wooden crates blocked her only way of escape.

/>   Damn it! This night just keeps getting better and better. Well, she wasn’t about to go back the way she came so she would just have to wait for Stacy and her friend to move on or for the ferry to reach the harbor. Pressing herself against the wall, the frozen metal penetrated her coat, chilling her. After a minute or two, she peered around the corner at the two people standing less than twenty feet from her. Standing near the railing, they were too deep in conversation to notice her, giving her an opportunity to study both them. The lower lights were dim but she could see the anger painted on Stacy’s face. Her bottom lip still carried Vance’s ‘love-tap,’ the bruise standing out starkly against her porcelain skin. The man standing next to her was tall with an athletic build, dressed completely in black. His features were fine, almost beautiful, with dark-brown eyes and a full, soft mouth. He was smiling at Stacy, a small dimple in his right cheek.

  “I don’t know, Jason, he’s so angry. And secretive. He’s planning something, and I’m pretty sure it has to do with his chemical research.” Stacy’s lilting voice shook with emotion as she looked out over the water.

  “Really? What makes you think that?” Jason asked, his voice smooth and calm.

  From her hidden position, Madison saw his stance change sharply and harden as Stacy continued to talk. He moved in closer to her, his face stern and determined.

  “I don’t know yet but I’m going to find out. If he thinks he’s going to knock me around and just expect me to put up with it, he’s got another thing coming.”

  “I know just what you mean,” he said darkly.

  Stacy started, looking at him curiously. You do?”

  Quick as a rattlesnake, Jason reached out and grabbed her by one thin arm, pulling her to him.

  “What are you doing? Let go of me!” Stacy exclaimed, her voice sharp with alarm.

  The dark-haired man smiled wryly. “Sorry, babe, but I have my orders.”

  “Orders? What are you talking about?” The alarm moved from her voice to her face, replacing the anger.

  “Vance says you’ve outgrown your usefulness.”

  Madison watched, frozen, not sure what was happening and not sure what to do. Should she jump out and help?

  Absolute fear clawed at Stacy’s face, turning her blue eyes to the size of saucers. “Let go!” she demanded, trying to wrench her arm away.

  With his free hand, Jason backhanded her, the slap rocking her head. Stacy’s eyes were dazed and she raised one pale hand to the red spot on her cheek

  “You bastard,” she gasped weakly.

  Jason chuckled, a low, evil sound. “I’ve been called worse.” Twisting her arm, making her cry out, he moved her so that she was pinned against him, her back to his chest. Sobbing hysterically, Stacy shook her head, fighting to get away but her struggles were useless against the man’s iron grip.

  Madison’s gasp was drowned out by Stacy’s cries.

  Jason placed his hands gently on Stacy’s head, holding her immobile. Then, lightning fast, he yanked her head to one side, and a sickening crack filled the air. Stacy’s struggling ceased and she went limp in his arms.

  Shock rolled over Madison and her stomach heaved as it tried to relieve itself of the rich food she had consumed earlier. She covered her mouth, desperately trying to restrain herself from throwing up.

  Jason stared down at the woman he held, brushing the chestnut strands of hair from her lifeless face. “What a waste. I should have taken my time with you,” he murmured regretfully.

  Near panic, Madison knew the smartest thing to do was to stay quiet. She could wait for him to leave and then go to the police as soon as she reached the shore. But damn it, a woman had been killed in front of her. And who were the cops going to believe? An everyday photographer or a mega millionaire? She needed proof. Quickly, before she had time to change her mind, she moved, knowing she made a grave mistake even as she did it. Yanking the camera from the bag, she rounded the corner with it raised with shaking hands and snapped several pictures of the man in front of her, his arms still wrapped around the dead woman.

  The flash of the camera caught the killer’s attention and he turned, staring intently at Madison. His eyes were black and filled with deadly purpose. Dropping Stacy’s lifeless body onto the floor, he started toward her.

  Her intake of breath was sharp and painful and she turned to run. He was coming for her. There was no way she could outrun him but she had to try. Making a break for it, she sprinted toward the stairs. Her already racing heart felt as though it was going to explode from her chest. If he caught her, she was dead. But if she could just make it to the top where there were people, she might have a chance. She didn’t have to look back to know that he was right on her heels. She burst through the double doors, looking left and right. She would never reach the stairwell before he caught up to her. Ducking down behind the long wooden bench, she put her hand over her mouth, trying to quiet her rapid breathing.

  Jason burst into the room and skidded to a stop. Madison knew she couldn’t just wait for him to find her but if she moved, he would be on her in no time. She was trapped. Taking big gulps of air, she fought off a suffocating panic. Her mind raced, trying to figure out what to do when she got an idea. Robert was going to kill her but she would rather face his wrath than that of the man on the other side of the room.

  Holding her breath, she extracted the slim memory from the side of the Nikon that she still held in a near death grip. She shoved it deep inside her bra, the cold square of plastic pressing against her breast.

  Closing her eyes for a split second, she opened them, throwing the camera as hard as she could in the opposite direction of the stairwell, careful to keep it below the level of the benches. It crashed against the steel floor, shattering upon impact. She jumped up from her hiding spot and was off like a shot, heading straight for the stairs, never looking back. Jason took the bait but cursed out loud when she exploded from behind the bench to his right and chased her running full tilt. Reaching the stairwell, she launched herself up the wide metal steps that led to the next level. But that was as far as she made it.

  Halfway up the stairs, the sexy three-inch heels became her downfall and she tripped, her left ankle twisting sharply. The pain was razor sharp and immediate, making her cry out in a choked yelp. She went down hard, hitting her right knee solidly against the step, scraping flesh from bone. An ice-cold hand closed on her ankle yanking her down a few steps. Looking back over her shoulder, Jason was sneered up at her, victory on his face. Terror filled her to her very core yet a thread of survival instinct raised its head, making her react. Drawing her free leg up as far as she could, she kicked back hard, viciously, catching her attacker off-guard. The pointy heel of the shoe connected solidly with his face, ripping a long gash. Blood flowed as he howled; losing his grip and tumbling backward down the stairs.

  Not wasting a second more, she darted up the remaining steps. Topping the stairs, she risked a glance behind her when she smashed into someone, knocking her off balance. Strong hands reached and grabbed her, saving her from a nasty fall backward. She only caught sight of the man for a second then she opened her mouth to scream, cut short when a hand slapped across her mouth, silencing her before throwing her into a small, dark room just to her left.

  Madison fought to free herself from the man’s grip but his leather-clad hand was clamped tightly over her mouth, holding her in place. The heat from his palm sank into her face as she struggled to breathe. She was damned if she was going to give up now. Giving in to the feral nature that overcame her, she opened her mouth against his gloved hand, biting as hard as she could, feeling her teeth sink into the leather and through it. The coppery taste of his blood flooded her mouth almost making her gag but still she held on. Refusing to give in to her captor, she dug her teeth in even harder, grinding her teeth against the flesh of his hand.

  Abru
ptly, the hand in her mouth was ripped away. She was spun around, striking the wall solidly with her back. Though she couldn’t see, she sensed the stranger closing in on her and she tried desperately to bring her knee up where she thought it might have the best contact. It was easily swatted away.

  “Don’t do that, it only makes me grumpy,” her unseen captor said lightly. “Don’t scream and don’t try to run. If you do, he might hear you and then I’ll have to kill him.”

  Before she even had time to register what he was saying, the room was awash in dim light.

  She stared into the coldest, blue eyes she’d ever seen. No, it couldn’t be . . .

  “Don’t scream.” he repeated, his voice as icy as his eyes.

  Madison’s eyes widened and instinctively made a run for the door, her mouth open to scream. But he caught her around her waist easily, the muscles of her stomach flexing against his strong hands. She fought with everything she had but she wasn’t going anywhere. He pushed her against the wall, holding her there firmly, his hand on her mouth again. The black lace dress she wore suddenly felt too tight as she struggled to breathe. Her breasts strained against the material as she gulped air rapidly against the palm of his hand. She saw his eyes drop to her chest in momentary interest but then, just as quick, he adverted his eyes, swinging them upward to meet hers.

  “I told you not to scream. Don’t do it again.”

  The hard, flat edge in his voice took out any fight that she might have had left in her. She felt fear fill her veins and settle in the pit of her stomach like a block of ice.

  “Now be quiet and I’ll let you go, understand?”

  Not daring to believe that, Madison simply nodded slowly against his hands. The gripping pressure lifted as he slowly moved his hand from her face. Her breath was coming easier now that he no longer had her face covered and her eyes were burning with tears. Refusing to give in to that weakness, she blinked them back, letting her anger take over. That was much better than the tears. She didn’t want to die like this, in a utility closet on a ferry in the middle of the Hudson River. She didn’t want to die at all. This man had pulled her out of harm’s way but she wasn’t fool enough to think she was completely safe. She was trapped onboard with a killer. Or quite possibly two. She had no intentions of dying, but if she had to, she was going to go down fighting.