Warrior from the Shadowland

by Cassandra Gannon

  She grinned at that. “Funny. It seems like I want to.” She took another step forward.

  “Are you really this reckless?” He demanded. “Shit, has it escaped your notice that I nearly killed you?”

  “Oh, you did not.” She waved a dismissive hand. “It was a blip…”

  “Blip?!?” He roared, interrupting her. “Nia, I’m wrong. Can’t you see that? I could be taking you on that desk, right now. How could you have stopped me if the Shadows took over and…” Cross trailed off and ran a hand through his hair. The silver streak at his temple slid between his thumb and forefinger. “I could’ve killed you.” He finished, harshly. “And I did scare you. So just. stay. fucking. back.” It was a harsh command.

  Nia ignored him and edged a bit closer, Cross had the bizarre feeling that she was moving slowly so she wouldn’t spook him. “You scared me.” She agreed. “Or, at least, you startled me, anyhow. So, I stopped you. And it wasn’t hard to do. When I said ‘stop,’ you stopped. There was no danger, Cross. Not from you or the Shadows. There’s certainly nothing wrong with you because of it. I’m sorry, I…”

  “Don’t you dare apologize to me.” He snarled. “Not for one damn thing.”

  Nia hesitated. “You asked me to forgive you.” She told him. “Remember?”

  “I did?” Cross recalled saying a lot of panicky things when she looked so small and afraid, but he wasn’t real clear on the specifics. “Well, I was wrong. You shouldn’t do anything that stupid. I’m dangerous. Never forgive or forget anything, especially not from dangerous people.”

  “Too late.” Nia shrugged. “I don’t think there’s really a lot to forgive, since it was just an accidental blip, but I forgive you. So, I think you need to just stop overreacting and get over it.”

  Cross snorted. That didn’t even deserve a response so he didn’t give it one.

  Nia sighed at his stubborn silence. “Alright, just tell me something, then. How long have you known?” She had the bluest eyes in the universe and they pinned him like the insect that he was.

  “Known what?” Cross could feel his body wanting to be next to hers, that turquoise gaze pulling him like a damn Magnet Phase. He forced himself to stay still, keeping his distance from her.

  “How long have you known that we were a Match?” She said, simply. “I can feel it, now. I felt it when our powers slammed together like that. I’m not an idiot. I know what that means. So, how long have you known about me?”

  Cross felt a wash of shame. For a second, he almost denied that he was her Match. Almost set her free, rather than say anything that would tie her to him. Matches could be renounced. It was rare, but it could be done. Ty had done it. Cross could go to Job and …

  His thoughts trailed off. Cross had a brief flash of trying to exist without the peace that Nia provided for him. With just him and Shadows and pain, all alone forever. No. He wouldn’t give her up. Not for anything in the universe.

  Selfish bastard.

  He actually heard his stepfather’s voice screaming it at him, but Cross still couldn’t do it.

  Without Nia to give him hope, he’d let the Shadows drop. Cross refused to do that because it would destroy Nia along with everything else. Or, at least, that was a handy excuse for keeping a gift that shouldn’t have been his in the first place. Cross wasn’t worthy of being Nia’s Phase-Match. He’d just proven it and she must know it. But he still couldn’t let her go.

  “I’ve known since the Fall. Since the world ended. I felt you, then.” He stared down at the blood on his hands, refusing to look at her.

  Nia blinked. “And you just… left me?” Her voice broke, slightly. “You didn’t come for me until now?” She sounded more upset by that than by what he’d done to her clothes. “Didn’t you want me?”

  Cross’ head snapped up. What the hell…? He’d expected angry recriminations that he’d triggered the apocalypse. He hadn’t expected Nia to interpret his actions as him willfully ignoring her for two damn years. Was she kidding? Cross had never been known for his sense of humor, so it was certainly possible that he missed the joke.

  Except, looking at Nia’s stricken face, it seemed like she was actually serious. How could Nia even think that anyone wouldn’t want her? How could she possibly believe that after what had happened on the desk? Maybe she was the one who was crazy. “Are you crazy?” It was the only thing that he could think to say.

  “Forget it.” Nia crossed her arms over her chest and frowned. “It’s okay, I guess. You’re here now, so…”

  There was a loud crashing sound in the outer office. Human voices shouted that they were all under arrest and that everyone had to stop right where they were.

  The police.

  Great.

  Apparently their little sword fight hadn’t been real under the radar. Cross had never spent much time around humans, but he knew that Job would not be happy about five Phases doing hard time in one of their prisons.

  Cross didn’t feel himself move. He just somehow ended up right next to Nia, grabbing her arm and forcing her backwards. The sword was in his hand, again. “How many people want you dead?” He demanded, his eyes fixed on the door.

  “A lot.” She tried to get passed him so she could go help her family. They couldn’t see the outer office, but it was a safe bet Ty, Uriel and Tharsis were being arrested.

  “Nia, no.” Cross refused to let her slip away from him. “You’re not going to do them any good getting handcuffed.” Although, the image of that did play through his head for a moment like an excerpt from an X-rated film.

  “The police will catch us in here, anyway.” She stood on tiptoe so she could whisper into his ear. “I won’t leave my family and I don’t want to hurt any humans. They’re harmless. We’ll just get arrested and then escape, again.”

  “No.” Cross struggled to concentrate. The headache lifted when their skin touched, giving him a small bit of clarity. She seemed intent on destroying it with her breathy voice, though. “It’s not safe.” He insisted. Parald had to know where she was if the Air House had attacked. They couldn’t be trapped by humans. It put them all in danger if more Air Phases arrived.

  “My cousin and brother are out there.”

  “I don’t care.”

  Nia’s eyes narrowed. “Cross, let me go.” She said it firmly, as if that was the end of the

  argument.

  Because -Shit!- it was.

  His Match hadn’t spent the past two years shouting down the rest of the Council without learning something about strategy. Nia had cornered him with that move and she knew it.

  She smiled a “checkmate” sort of grin.

  Cross had vowed that he’d stop, whenever Nia told him to stop touching her. Period. And, for some reason, she actually believed that he’d keep his word. So, if he didn’t take his hand off of her, he’d be breaking the only promise he’d ever made to her. Cross’s instincts were screaming at him to stop her before she put herself in jeopardy.

  He could overpower Nia now and force her to stay put. But, then her trust in him and her incredibly touching faith that he’d respect her boundaries if she just said “no” would vanish. Cross didn’t want that.

  He’d rather lose this round and win the war.

  Cross clenched his jaw, annoyed and almost proud of her for trapping him. “I won’t always be this easy.” He warned and released his hold on Nia’s elbow. The headache came rushing back, worse than ever. The Shadows were somehow agitated that he’d complied with her wishes at the risk of her own safety. Cross closed his eyes as pain seared through him. He felt blood begin to seep out past his lashes and he turned so Nia wouldn’t see it. “Fuck.” He doubled over, fighting to push the pressure back.

  “Cross?” Nia’s voice went high. Hands grabbed him again, blue manicured nails digging into his arm as she tried to turn him to see his face. “What’s wrong? What happened? Why are you bleeding?!?”

  He almost cried out in relief when she fingers found his cheek. “It’
s nothing.” He gritted hoarsely. The tension eased and he opened his eyes to look at her, again. “A headache.”

  Nia clearly didn’t believe that. She wiped at the blood on his face and Cross could read panic in every movement. “I’m sorry. Was it me? I upset you. I’m sorry. Are you hurt? Sick? Please, don’t be sick.” Her voice shook and he knew she was thinking of the Fall. “Please, Cross.”

  He’d never had anyone look so concerned for him before. It felt… nice. “I’m not sick. And it wasn’t you. I’m alright, baby.”

  The police must’ve finished with the others, because they were getting closer to the office door. Cross swore, softly. He reached up and instinctively grasped Nia’s wrist, holding it against his cheek. “Stay still.”

  The Shadows swirled and the two of them just… disappeared.

  Nia gasped.

  A blonde police officer came into the office, but she couldn’t see them. She looked around suspiciously, as if she could sense them, but Cross was bending the Shadows so her eyes traveled right over the spot where they stood.

  Cross wasn’t sure whether to curse or laugh at this new demonstration of his instability.

  Shadow Phases could control Shadows. They could vanish into them, move like them, and create them. But, they couldn’t drag other Phases into the Shadows with them. A normal Shadow Phase could’ve disappeared, but there was no way Cross should’ve been able to hide Nia, too. It was way beyond the power of a Shadow Phase to manipulate other people’s bodies like that. Cross still wasn’t sure how he was getting the weight of the Shadows to work around Nia, but he knew that the level of energy and the things that it could do were pretty friggin’ abnormal.

  Wrong.

  Wrong.

  Wrong.

  He must’ve actually said it out loud, because Nia shook her head, red curls swaying. “Magic.” She corrected, her mouth shaping the word so the cop wouldn’t overhear.

  The police woman turned to leave the office.

  And that’s when Nia’s walkie-talkie made a loud chirping sound from inside of her pocket.

  Chapter Four

  These crimes," the doctor answered, "have all the elements of a ghostly impulse.”

  Charles Wadsworth Camp- "The Abandoned Room: A Mystery Solved”

  Officer Melanie O’Shea whirled around at the sound of electronic beeping. She didn’t know what the hell was going on, but she knew that there was something weird about the whole feel of this serology lab. A charge in the air had the small hairs on her arms standing up. Melanie’s deep brown eyes swept around the messy interior of the office, cataloging every scattered file and broken pencil.

  She felt like she wasn’t alone.

  Melanie saw the little radio a moment later, sitting on the edge of the overturned desk. She stepped forward to frown at the device. It was a walkie-talkie, just like the ones that the she’d found on the three weirdoes that she’d just handcuffed. Only it hadn’t been there a second before. Melanie was sure of it. Almost sure, anyway. Where the hell had it come from?

  “Mel?” Sullivan Pryce, Melanie’s cousin and boss, called to her from the outer room. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah.” Melanie said, automatically. She took a backwards step towards the door. “There’s nothing back here.”

  “There’s not?” One of the blue-haired lunatics demanded. His undoubtedly fake drivers’ license said that his name was Tharsis Waterhouse. His gaze slid over to the curvy, little redhead in a “Hello Kitty” baseball cap. “Ty?”

  She shrugged, her eyes warily fixed on Sullivan. Sullivan had that kind of effect on people. At 6 foot 6, with a massive scar on the side of his face, Mayport Beach’s chief of police looked like a badass. The scowl didn’t help matters. Sullivan was never in a great mood, but drug dealers really pissed him off. Since, it was a pretty good guess that the three nuts with Goth striped hair had broken into the hospital lab in order to steal any kind of happy pills they could find, Sullivan wasn’t exactly on his best behavior.

  Melanie almost felt bad for the freaks.

  “There’s another walkie-talkie back there. I think they had someone else working with them, but he got away.” She arched a brow at Tharsis. “Looks like your buddy left ya for dead, pal.”

  His mouth actually curved. “Honor among thieves is such a crock.” All three of them had some kind of odd lyrical accent, but Tharsis’ was the least noticeable. His life of crime apparently paid well, since he wore an Armani suit with no shirt and there was a huge blue sapphire studded through his left ear. Amusement gleamed from his turquoise eyes, as if this entire bust was part of some grand joke.

  “You didn’t see any bodies back there?” The other guy asked Melanie. His phony, unlamented ID listed him as Uriel Woods. Melanie couldn’t imagine any parents being cruel enough to saddle their kid with a name that sounded so much like ‘urinal.’ “Or are you just ignoring the dead Phases because they weren’t human?” He looked over at Tharsis. “Do humans even have laws about killing us?”

  Tharsis cringed slightly and pretended not to hear that.

  “Oh, God.” Sullivan gave his head a patented ‘why me?’ shake and pinched the bridge of his nose. “They think that they’re aliens. I can’t handle any more aliens this week, Mel.”

  Melanie patted his shoulder sympathetically. Sullivan hated dealing with eccentrics. He’d really much rather have a gunfight or even do paperwork. And the aliens they usually picked up weren’t armed, either. Melanie rolled her eyes at the strange looking sword they’d taken from Uriel. The Lord of the Rings prop store must love these jokers.

  “We aren’t aliens.” Tharsis said, swiftly.

  “There are no aliens in this galaxy.” Uriel agreed, straight faced. “We’d have met them.”

  “He’s going in your car, Melanie.” Sullivan gestured towards Uriel. “I’ll take these two and meet you back at the station.” He grabbed Tharsis with one hand and Ty with the other. “Just leave the other walkie-talkie and the rest of the scene as is and we’ll process it this afternoon.”

  That perked Melanie up. Mayport Beach offered very few opportunities for processing crime scenes. Usually, it was just arresting the same clowns every weekend at the local bar and giving out some parking tickets.

  Ty’s eyes went wide behind the lens of her cat’s eye glasses. Like her soon-to-be co-defendants, her hands were zip tied behind her back. “Thar?” Her voice sounded too high pitched as Sullivan dragged her forward. “Are we sure these are real humans and not working with the Reprisal or anything?”

  “I’m sure. Chason wouldn’t even hire a human to scrub his toilet.” Tharsis glanced up at Sullivan, looking amazingly blasé about his upcoming trip to the slammer. “My cousin’s scared. Explain that you’re just an ordinary cop and that you’re not going to hurt her.” He spoke like he was used to having people listen.

  Sullivan wasn’t exactly the world’s greatest listener. Melanie expected her cousin to blow him off, just on general principals. To her surprise Sullivan heaved another sigh, instead. He loosened his grip on Ty’s arm and spared her an annoyed glance. “We aren’t the Gestapo, kid. You’re just getting tossed in jail, not beaten with phonebooks or fed to attack dogs. Deal with it, okay? Because, I’m givin’ ya fair warning, you start crying and I might rethink the rubber hoses.”

  Ty seemed to believe Sullivan’s grudging, pseudo-reassurances. Melanie could see her relax a bit. Far from tears, Ty began to focus on the actual nuts and bolts of her arrest. “Will you fingerprint us like they do on TV? That could actually be interesting. I’m not sure we have fingerprints, do we, Thar?”

  “Ty, honey, shhh!” Tharsis hissed back. “Let’s exercise our Constitutional right to remain silent. Haven’t you ever seen one of the human Law and Order shows?”

  Sullivan rolled his eyes. “God, this really is just what I need today.” He muttered to no one in particular. “Alright, Trekkies, this way to the mothership. We’ll get you away from all the bad Earthlings.” He ushere
d them forward, out the door.

  Uriel turned to Melanie. “Your leader detains his prisoners on a ship?”

  Melanie really wished Sullivan had left her in charge of the other two whackos instead of this one. Uriel made her uncomfortable. Despite his better living through chemistry, the guy looked like the centerfold pinup image of All American maleness. There was something so wrong about lusting after the scumbag she’d just busted for stealing drugs from a hospital lab. Melanie had been a cop for six years and she’d never been attracted to a prisoner before.

  “Sullivan’s not my leader. He’s my boss.” Melanie muttered, since there really wasn’t another response to his craziness.

  Uriel nodded. “Ah, I didn’t know that there was distinction between those words. I’m sorry. Human isn’t my first language.” His earnest smile should have been bottled and sold to men everywhere.

  Melanie made a face. “Whatever. Let’s just go.” She took hold of his arm and refused to notice the size of his bicep.

  Uriel was definitely the best looking man she’d ever arrested. Or, okay, ever seen. Ever. Like some kind of refugee from Soap Opera Land, where all the men were designed to live their lives in bath towels. His blond hair was cut in a short, military style with a mahogany streak at his temple. For some reason, he wore a watermelon colored t-shirt with “World’s Sexiest Grandma” written across the front in sparkly, cursive letters. Maybe it was the name of his band. In any case, Melanie wasn’t sure how he managed to look so ready to try out for the Navy Seals in it. It must’ve been his stance.

  The guy dressed like a freak from a bad rave, but he stood like a warrior.

  Uriel didn’t try to struggle free of her grasp or challenge her authority. With fluid athleticism, he calmly strode beside her as she led him out into the South Florida heat. Melanie immediately cringed at the Indian summer humidity that pressed down on her like a sweltering wave of mugginess.

  God, it was days like this that questioned her sanity living so close to the Equator.