by Anna Hub
Beyond the Shadows
BOOK ONE OF
THE SHADOW SERIES
Anna Hub
Copyright © 2016 Anna Hub
Second Edition. First published 2013.
Anna Hub has asserted her right under the copyright Act 1968 to be identified as the author of this work
Cover Design by Damon Za
Editing by Dominion Editorial
All rights reserved
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Books by Anna Hub
The Shadow Series:
Beyond the Shadows
Shadow Hunters
In Night's Shadow
The Shadow Thief
The Ninth Hunter
Visit Anna's Website
www.AnnaHubBooks.com
For my dad, Big Fish, thanks for the imagination
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty One
Chapter Twenty Two
Chapter Twenty Three
Chapter Twenty Four
Chapter Twenty Five
Chapter Twenty Six
Chapter Twenty Seven
Chapter Twenty Eight
Prologue
The hum of the restaurant filled my ears as I watched my brother talking. It wasn't that I didn’t care for his conversation, but I couldn’t connect myself to the world at that moment, almost as though I wasn’t really there. Every week, we had these meetings—a meal, a movie—as though we could somehow fool ourselves into believing our family was still a unit, but in reality, it hadn’t been for a long time. Since my mother had passed away, we had continued the motions, but all of us felt as though we'd been torn apart forever.
All around the restaurant, people spoke excitedly but I couldn't even remember what that kind of happiness felt like. Maybe one day I'd find it again.
My gaze landed on a man at a nearby table. His own eyes cast downwards as though his evening was every bit as painful as mine. For a moment, I wondered what he might be going through. What event in his life had brought him to this state of detachment?
“Selena? You missed the punch line.” My brother frowned, but when he caught my expression he shrugged and continued with his meal.
After pushing salad around the plate for as long as I could bear, I excused myself for the bathroom. Weaving between the tables, I turned back to make sure my father wasn’t looking before stepping out onto the balcony. A strong wind blew my dark, red hair into my face as I looked out at the surrounding skyscrapers. Sometimes I just needed to pause and take a breath of pure air.
The door blew shut, the glass shaking in the panels. I spun around and found the man from across the restaurant standing behind me. He stepped forward and leaned his arms on the railing. Perhaps he was a smoker. I watched him from the corner of my eye, but he didn't pull out a cigarette. How odd to stand so close to me when there was so much space.
He turned, and I lifted my gaze to his.
“Needed a break?” I asked.
“This is going to sound crazy ...” he began. “I don’t know if it will help, but I wish someone had told me.”
What a strange thing to say. I almost made a joke, but a shadow crossed his face and my heart beat harder. "What are you talking about?"
On the other side of the glass, my father looked at the bathroom door. Soon I would have to go inside and yet I couldn’t quite bring myself to walk away. The man in front of me stared at the ground, his lips twitching as though he wanted to warn me of something. The seconds ticked past, and my unease grew.
I took a step back. “I should probably go back in.”
“Your shadow's moving,” he blurted out.
I wasn't sure what to say. Was he serious?
"I'm sorry, I know it doesn't make sense but I had to warn you."
"Warn me? I don't understand."
"It's coming for you."
It was too much. I had to get back inside. “Excuse me.”
He grabbed my arm. “Don’t let it catch you.”
I shook myself free, perturbed by the intensity of his stare. “I’m sorry, I have to go.”
He didn't object this time, standing aside as I hurried back into the restaurant. I returned to my seat, unable to stop the tremble in my muscles.
"Everything okay?" my father asked.
I nodded, but from that moment until we left the restaurant, the man from the balcony didn't return to his table.
Chapter One
Snooze time was up, but each sleep had become more painful to rise from than the last. My legs ached all over, and my feet felt raw. Nightmares had plagued me for weeks, every night they were the same: vivid and unrelenting. Seeming to last for hours at a time. I groaned and wiped at my face, before climbing out of bed and staggering into the shower.
As I towelled my hair and started for the bedroom, I caught a smear on the floorboards. My body turned rigid. I knelt down and ran a finger through it—blood. Wet tracks led all the way to the bedroom door, which was open as I'd left it. Pressure built in my lungs as I crept closer, listening for the sound of an intruder. The white carpet highlighted red footprints between the bed and the door. I lifted my foot and almost laughed in nervous relief. The blood was my own—a long cut running from toe to heel. I quickly crossed the distance to my bed and clasped a hand over the wound. The latest nightmare suddenly came rushing back.
The stale scent of rotting trees hung beneath the forest canopy and sunlight shimmered over spider webs in the dusty air. My heart pounded in my chest and ears as I gasped for oxygen. Fallen branches and debris littered the path as I ran, catching the skin on my feet. But the pain didn't matter. I needed to maintain a safe lead. A sudden trip or a turn in the wrong direction could be the end. Rasping breaths followed right behind, and the deep grunt of a predator grew closer. Thick vines reached between the trees ahead. I searched for another way, but the branches were woven together in every direction. I had no choice but to tear through. My foot caught on a rock, and I fell forward. A hand wrapped around my throat as I tumbled, twisting me to face the wild eyes of the man behind. I screamed. The sound rattling until the dream fell away and I woke in bed.
For a long time, I sat on the bed with a hand on my mouth. I wanted to shrug the whole thing off but had an uneasy feeling this was more than a coincidence. I’d dreamt of the same forest every night for the last few weeks—that had to mean something.
Blood dripped onto my sheets, forcing me to return to the bathroom for a first-aid box. Once I’d bandaged the wound, I stood up to wash my hands and caught a glimpse of the mirror. A fresh scratch ran across my cheek.
"What the hell?"
My head spun and I quickly sat down, breathing deeply to calm down. Despite the wooziness, I stood and hurried out to grab my phone, finger hovering over my father’s number. He
still struggled with my mother’s death, I couldn’t burden him with anything else. I almost tried my brother but what would I say? And how crazy would it sound?
I took slow, useful breaths and tried to convince myself everything would be okay. The clock ticked over nine—I was already late for work. I thought about calling in sick, but the thought of sitting alone in my apartment somehow scared me more.
My green eyes were dull and heavy with tiredness, my skin pale where I’d tried to hide the trauma with makeup. I cringed inwardly, imagining work colleagues telling me how stressed I looked. It had been the same story for weeks now.
I stood outside the building, took a breath and opened the door.
"Sorry, I'm late."
My boss narrowed her eyes as I limped past but the grief on my face must have betrayed me as she turned away and let me pass without words. I opened the blinds and sunlight beamed over the desk, highlighting a stack of reports that still needed to be transcribed.
I made a coffee and took the first folder from the pile.
“Selena?”
The coffee cup fell as I jumped. “Shit.” I grabbed tissues and wiped over the report.
“Selena.” My boss placed a restraining hand over mine, and I couldn’t avoid her eyes any longer. “Leave it.”
The tissue became waterlogged, and I sighed.
“Look, I’ve been meaning to talk to you for a few days, but it never seems to be the right time.” She took a step back and sat down. “I’m sorry to say anything but you seem stressed. Others have noticed it too. It's been close to a year since your mother’s death, but no one expects you to get over something like that straight away.”
Perhaps it was better if everyone believed my mother was the cause. At least they could understand that.
“Sometimes these things can take a while.”
I wished I could admit the truth to someone. Instead, I nodded because that's what she expected.
“Do you need to go home?” she asked.
“No. I’ll be fine, I’m just tired.”
The work was at least a distraction. At home, I would have nothing to think about but the dreams. Somehow, thinking made it worse and I was beginning to fear sleep more than anything else.
When the clock struck five, I'd already packed up and headed for the door. Usually, I walked home with Natasha but today I didn’t want her company. I walked the busy city street, hiding tired eyes with sunglasses. My shadow raced before me, and the memory of the man in the restaurant came to life.
The conversation had troubled me for weeks, and then the dreams had come, and I'd forgotten his warning. But looking at them now, the entire world seemed stained with shadows. They stretched and moved as we moved, bound to us like prisoners.
I turned down a quiet path away from the bustle of rush hour. Sunlight flashed as I walked under a bridge and my shadow crept up the wall. I reached out and brushed a hand against it, shivering as static buzzed against my fingers before it shocked me. I pulled back and turned to face the silhouette. There was nothing untoward with the image and yet I couldn't ignore the worry building in my mind. Was the electric shock just coincidence?
I removed my sunglasses and raised a hand once more, finger tingling as it touched the shadow. Numbness stretched across my hand and travelled up my arm in a rush. I tried to take a step back, but the shadow seemed to cling. Heaviness sunk into my skin and darkness overcame me. There was no pain, just a disgusting feeling. I wanted to shake it away, but my body had no substance anymore. Panic clutched at my throat, swelling until I couldn't bear it.
And just as fast as it came, it was gone. The darkness disappeared, and I lifted my sunglasses to shield from the sun but the glasses were gone. I screamed as I found myself surrounded by thick trees. How had this happened?
I was naked. Everything I'd been wearing and holding was gone. A crunch sounded nearby, and I expected a man to appear through the trees, igniting the chase I'd experienced night after night. Instead, the forest fell silent again. Adrenaline built up as I fought the urge to run. Thoughts bombarded me, growing wilder as the seconds passed. I inhaled slowly, forcing myself to slow down and think rationally.
I lifted a foot. The bandage had disappeared, but the wound remained. Maybe this wasn't a dream at all. I turned to the ground and the shadow waiting nearby. I took a step, searching for a sign of movement but nothing unusual happened.
Perhaps it would be best if I focused on getting my bearings.
The sunlight held the colour of dawn. A cold breeze swept through the trees, growing louder until it reached the ground and howled past, dragging my previously tied up hair loose. I shivered and looked around; the sound could have allowed someone to creep up, and I wouldn’t have heard them.
I walked slowly, covered my chest with an arm and continued down a hill alongside a stream. Although I'd seen this place in my dreams, I couldn’t find any discernible landmarks.
I trekked for hours and nothing seemed to change. Eventually the forest rose into a valley where less wind passed and the ground swelled with tree stumps and boulders. Although sheltered, it seemed like a vulnerable position on the lower ground. The forest groaned and I decided to find shelter.
A hollowed tree lay nearby. It was big enough to fit inside but no doubt home to many bugs and spiders. Still, I was more afraid of the wide open forest, so I kneeled down, the ground soft and mossy as I crawled to the back.
Eventually, the clouds outside turned grey and rain fell heavily on the leaves surrounding the stump. I licked my dry lips as water dropped into a puddle and seeped into the dirt. I crept toward the edge of the trunk and carefully checked for danger. The water was only a few steps away and a leaf perfectly shaped to act as a funnel. Although a stream ran nearby, I wasn't sure if it would be safe to drink from. Sunlight shone through gaps in the clouds. Once the rain stopped, I probably wouldn’t have another opportunity to drink.
Slowly, I tiptoed forward and curled beneath the plant, funnelling water into a tap. Gentle forest sounds surrounded me; the cracking of twigs seemed so natural until they stopped. I sat up with fright. A man stood above me, his eyes an intense shade of grey. There were no creases on his face and yet he still seemed to scowl. I slowly shifted from underneath the plant into the clearing, but I was too afraid to stand up and reveal my naked body. The man took a step closer, his muscles flexing as though he would reach out at any moment.
Should I say something? Even when I tried, no words came out. He looked just like the men from my dreams—intense eyes with a vacant expression. I didn't want to find out what would happen if he caught me.
I jumped up and turned away in the same instant, my wounded feet slamming against the ground. A hysterical scream burst out as the man's pounding footsteps grew louder. A stitch soon tortured me, but I couldn't afford to slow down. Rain fell harder where the forest opened out to the sky, gluing hair to my face as I bolted. Suddenly, my foot skidded as I struggled to dodge a tree. The man clutched at my shoulder, but the rain caused his hand to slip away. Another scream escaped as a branch struck me in the face. Hair covered my eyes, and when I desperately pulled it away, I saw another man running from another direction.
“No!”
I tried to sidestep, but it was too late. He caught me.
“No! Don’t touch me.”
I looked at his face. The man from the restaurant. I lurched, but his hands gripped tight before he threw me to the ground. As I dropped, my shadow stretched out, and I fell into it, stomach flipping as it swallowed me.
Chapter Two
I cried out, landing back in the real world with a thud. A stinging sensation ran beneath my skin as though I'd been forced through a strainer. I checked my elbows. No doubt they would bruise. As the pain subsided, I slowly sat up, and the reality of what had just happened dawned on me. My legs were shaking so much; standing would have been impossible. Instead, I crawled closer to the wall and tried to contain the panic.
The bridge glowed wi
th streetlights but no one else was around, and I was relieved for the privacy. If anyone had asked if I was okay, I probably would have told them the truth. I took a moment to overcome the panic that had flooded my system only moments ago. Who knows what would have happened if the shadow hadn't taken me back.
I shook my hands as though it might help to relieve the nervous energy. Everything remained the same way it had been before I fell through the shadow. My clothes were back, and shoes too. A quick wipe of my face came back blood stained—a second assurance that what was happening wasn't a dream. But even with fresh wounds, who would ever believe a story so absurd? I couldn't go to the police. And a doctor couldn't help. Who else was left to ask?
Emotion suddenly rose up, threatening to overcome me, but I couldn't afford to let it out. So, I closed my mind and focused on the physical actions of going home.
Sometimes I regretted the loneliness of living alone, but now I was more relieved than ever to hobble to the bathroom and not explain where I'd been. I sat down in the shower and let the hot water soothe me. Although nothing would be able to cleanse the fear from my bones, at least it made me feel more normal.
Food was the last thing I wanted but once dried and dressed, I forced myself into the kitchen and made a sandwich. Only when I was sitting on the couch did I dare to look at the clock. Five a.m. I'd lost an entire night. Crushing pressure built in my chest. The beginning of a panic attack that I wasn't quite sure how to control. Where had I been all that time? No one had found my body lying under the bridge or taken me to hospital. No one shook me awake or waited until I came round. Was I really in a different world?