Brush of Shade ((YA Paranormal Romance/Fantasy) The Whisperer's Chronicles)

by Jan Harman

  “As soon as she’s got time, she’s going to have my phone put on her plan,” I replied. Her argument sounded flimsy even to me, but not enough to warrant the detective’s attention. “I’m waiting for a letter back from my BFF.”

  “JoAnna? She thinks you’re living in Boulder and was told to give you some space.”

  “She wouldn’t have,” I whispered, crinkling the paper with my fist.

  “Two weeks before the accident, both your aunt and your father were booked on flights that landed at the same time in Denver.”

  “No, Dad was . . .” I couldn’t remember where he’d been, but it had been overseas.

  “On the day of the accident your father flew into Dulles from Denver.”

  “You’re wrong. Dad had come back from a four day trip to London.”

  “Your aunt hasn’t got an alibi.”

  “She doesn’t need one.”

  “You were in that car too, kid.”

  The detective slammed an 8 x 10 photo on top of the folder. I jumped. “Your car hit a stone fence hidden by branches which had been piled up in front of it, making it invisible in the dark. This was staged to look like an unfortunate accident on an empty stretch of road in bad weather. We found two sets of tire prints at the scene. One for a gray hummer that matched the paint chip we took off your Taurus. The second car was parked up the road from the fence.”

  I shrank into the cushion, chest tight, knuckles pressing against my lips. Instead of letting up and letting me process, Detective Lawson slapped a second photo down. “Look, two separate sets of footprints. Who were they? What did you see?”

  Grisly details stirred up memories, making my fingers quiver as they skimmed over the image of our mangled car. Stumbling footsteps. A light behind my head sweeping the inside of the car. Glass shattering. “Leave the mom. She’s as good as dead. We’ll try the girl instead,” a callous voice ordered. Metal slicing into my hip. Blood pooling. A burning hand on my face. Dad, no! Breathe! Terrified screams rose out of the depths of my nightmare. I thrust the photo between the seats and clapped a hand over my mouth, tasting salty tears mixed with coppery blood from biting my lip.

  “Did your father say anything? Kid, you with me? Drink this.”

  The grape drink smelled off and left a tangy aftertaste that lingered on a slick coating on my tongue. I swallowed because it was there and I was lost. Listless, I slumped against the window, staring out the windshield as one fierce gust after another swept across the road, burying the world in a wall of white. If only it were possible to blot out the horrific slices of memory the pictures had awakened of a dark mass banging repeatedly into the side of our car, metal grinding and squealing, tires spinning in mud, branches slapping against the windshield, and screams rising then falling silent.

  The driver’s door opened, rousing me out of my stupor. For a moment I expected to see Shade standing at my door. Then I remembered and had to swallow down the lump in my throat. According to the dashboard clock, we’d been on the road for close to two hours. I didn’t know which was more frightening how deep I’d been sucked under or that I didn’t know where we were? Thick headed, I grabbed Detective Lawson’s arm and cried out, “I couldn’t control the car. Did I kill them?”

  “Of course not,” he said in his best don’t upset the unstable teenager voice. “Stay put. I need to knock the ice off the wipers, so I can see before we end up in a ditch. As soon as we get to Denver someone will come pick you up.”

  I snatched the keys out of the ignition. “Who? Detective, what’s going on?”

  His brow creased in confusion and he mouthed my name.

  I eased out of the seatbelt, feeling woozy. “Detective, are you okay?”

  “There’s no need to be alarmed. Have you remembered what your father said to you? No? Well, I’m sure once we get your body clean from all those pills your aunt has been giving you, everything will be clear again. You just sit back. I’m here to help you,” he said in an overly sweet voice that I’d never heard him use before.

  He stood momentarily still, like a cat preparing to pounce, and then he lunged across the seat and ripped the keys out of my hand. I shoved open my door. Fingers clawed at my sweater as I tumbled out into the drift onto my hands and knees. The glove box clunked open revealing a gun. I shrieked, gained my legs, and started running down the road using our blurred tire ruts to stay upright.

  Gust of wind hammered my body. Frigid air sliced through my sweater and snow peppered my face. I staggered sideways, slipping and sliding out of control. Beneath me, the ground dropped sharply away. I rolled, face plowing into fresh powder. Wet hands burned. I pulled my sleeves over them and huddled in the drift, shaking hard. Somehow I had to sneak into the car, close all the doors, and hold down the button for the lock until help arrived. The next gust carried my name. Where was he?

  I stood up and the world spun, churning my stomach. A hand closed over my shoulder. I threw myself at the slope and felt the familiar catch in my left knee. Not now. Bend!

  I scooped up a handful of snow, twisted, and threw it into a blurry face framed by a streak of yellow hair. “Shade? How?” I stammered, swiping snow out of my eyes. He grabbed my icy hands and blew hot breaths onto them and then with a growl, pulled me into a crushing, wonderfully hot hug with his long coat forming a tent shelter against the storm.

  “As soon as I get you on the road, I want you to run to the truck,” he shouted over the next arctic blast. “Don’t be afraid, Livi. I’ll be right behind you.”

  Hands squeezed my waist, hoisting me up until I rolled over the lip of the snow bank and onto the shoulder of the road. Twin beams cut through the near white out conditions. I got a glimpse of Shade’s hunter green truck coming out of the curve. I ran, but the truck didn’t seem to be getting closer. Stupid body wouldn’t stop weaving. Shade slung an arm around my waist and lifted, his long, sure strides covering the ground.

  “Halt!”

  Cool as could be Detective Lawson advanced with his gun leveled in our direction.

  Shade set me on my feet and ordered, “Get in the truck.”

  “Olivia, it’s not safe. Think about who controls the money and your life. People have killed for less,” Detective Lawson shouted. “You,” he swung the gun at Shade’s head, “step back. Olivia, walk to my car.”

  The gun shifted to point at my aunt through the windshield. “Miss Pepperdine, glad you could join us. Just how much would you say your young heiress is worth? According to the trust at what age is your service as executor terminated? Do you feel all that money slipping out of your fingers? Not to worry, your brother’s high-powered friends won’t notice when his daughter goes missing way out here in the middle of nowhere,” he said, sounding irrational.

  Shade moved quickly to the front of his truck, drawing the detective’s attention. “Officer, this is a mistake. No one means Olivia any harm,” he said in a deep, soothing voice that made you just know every word was true.

  I dove for the safety of the open passenger door. Immediately Aunt Claire had the truck in reverse, creeping down the icy slope around a blind curve blanketed by drifting snow.

  “No, stop!” I shouted.

  I leaned forward in my seat, trying to keep Shade and the detective in sight, willing the officer to lower his gun. For a moment it seemed that everything would be alright, that it had been an overreaction on the officer’s part. The gun slowly drifted lower, then jerked back up. Shade extended a hand as though to ward off the bullet. Frenzied winds drove into the detective, knocking him backward. Wind-whipped snow pelted our windshield. I willed the wipers to move faster. Ghostly figures tussled. A body tumbled into the ditch.

  “Stop! What if it’s Shade?” I cried out, slurring at the end. I fell back against my seat overcome by wooziness. My eyes refused to stay open. In my mind the howling winds screamed Shade’s name as I dropped out of reality.

  ***

  “We’re past conjecture, Claire. I know what I sensed.”

&nbs
p; “But tampering? Who got to him?”

  “Sorry, I was too busy staying alive to get around to that point,” Shade replied in a hushed voice. “If you want your niece safe, then I say tell her everything.”

  “She’s still in mourning and fighting to get strong. She needs more time.”

  “This has to be explained somehow. She’s stronger than you give her credit for.”

  “Will they accept her?” Aunt Claire asked, sounding worried.

  “Not in this state,” he replied. “Let us help. The clan honors all obligations of the Pact.”

  “They’re also obligated to honor Ethan’s request for his daughter’s happiness.”

  “Are the two mutually exclusive? The truth can be liberating. Let’s just get her home. We can argue there when I don’t have to concentrate on keeping us on the road.”

  “I think she’s coming around.” Aunt Claire’s voice cracked and she sniffed loudly. “Olivia, everything is alright now. See, Shade is fine.”

  Their strange, tense conversation I’d absorbed in garbled snippets. If Shade was safe that meant— A fire ignited in my belly. My stomach roiled. I doubled over with my hand clasped so hard to my mouth that I cut the inside of my lip on my teeth.

  Aunt Claire placed a hand on my forehead. “Her eyes are glassy and she’s clammy.”

  “Olivia, did Lawson give you something?” Shade demanded.

  “Drank something . . . nasty.” I moaned and tried to curl into a ball, but I was squished between Shade and my aunt.

  The truck skidded coming out of the curve. My eyes were on Shade’s strong, chiseled jaw, watching the muscle pulse each time I reacted to the road or the pain. I sunk into my misery, scraping up every ounce of strength to contain my moaning. It was the only contribution I could make to this nightmare. Desperate to get me help Shade pressed the limits of the vehicle and the weather. We dropped down out of the pass gaining speed and sliding across both lanes.

  “Stop!” I screamed, shoving him out of my way not able to register that he was still driving.

  His eyes slid to my scrunched face. He swore. “Hang on, let me get around this curve.”

  The guardrail loomed straight ahead. “Slow down,” Aunt Claire yelled, throwing an arm across my body while Shade fought the fishtailing truck. The grinding of metal sent me over the edge. Each time the truck scraped across the rail it was another flip of my family’s car tumbling over and over. Fearful cries deepened into harsh, gagging sounds. I tried to get to my mother, but something across my chest held me in place.

  “Don’t shake her, she might get sick,” Shade ordered.

  “Make her stop,” Aunt Claire pleaded.

  A terrible shrieking had pierced the cab, drowning out the wind roaring up the canyon walls. Tears blurred my vision making spirals out of the icy flecks in Shade’s eyes. I clung to them as though they were a real ice flow that could divert the nightmares.

  “Olivia, listen to me. We’ve stopped. Olivia, you’re safe.”

  Lips were moving. I could feel his hot breath tickle across my cheeks. This was real. A shudder swept my body, starting where his hot hands cradled my face and traveling all the way down to my toes. I was no longer falling out of the world. Had he any idea what he’d just done for me? I leaned into his chest, breathing raggedly, my throat raw from my horrific screams.

  “I’m sorry. I know this has to be awful for you. Hang in there,” Shade reassured, completely misunderstanding.

  Aunt Claire unzipped her purse. “I’ve got antacid. Do you want to try that?”

  I nodded. Anything would be better than the fire in my stomach. I choked on the pill and slumped against Shade’s side. “Sorry,” I stammered and tried to sit up, but he held me tight. Acid scorched up to my throat as the blaze in my stomach tried to burn a path clear through my back. “Let me out.” I gagged and fought Shade’s hands as I tried to push past him.

  Freezing gusts battered the canyon and shoved us against the tailgate while my body tried unsuccessfully to rid itself of whatever Detective Lawson had dosed me with. If it weren’t for Shade gripping me under my chest like a floppy doll, I would’ve collapsed in the snow bank. By this point, I was so weak and miserable; I was hardly aware of anything, even the fire burning up my stomach.

  “Nothing,” Shade said, lifting me into the truck. “I don’t like the sound of her breathing.”

  Aunt Claire took my pulse. Her gaze flicked up to Shade’s then to the blizzard pounding the windshield. Fingers pinched the skin at her throat when she turned to me and asked, “We need to know how you feel.”

  “Sick,” I said in a toneless voice, drifting in the brief cushion of peace between pangs.

  “Olivia, answer us,” Shade ordered, the twang of his voice quite pronounced.

  Isn’t it strange when you’re only half conscious, how voices seem to call from so far off? Figures Shade would be different, I thought irritably. His thunderous voice ricocheted inside my skull, demanding notice. Stubborn jerk stop asking me. Couldn’t he let me curl up and sleep? I didn’t want to think or speak. But I had to; I couldn’t stop myself.

  “Fire eating my stomach,” I answered with little strength.

  “Localized or radiating?” he persisted, his voice scratching across my cheeks.

  “Radiating.” I moaned, arching against his restraining hands. “My chest . . . tight. Shade, make it stop,” I whimpered, digging my fingers into his arms. “Help me!” I mouthed.

  His voice stopped. Bereft, I wanted to cry out for him to come back, to fill me, but I was being dragged under. Then my aunt started yelling, pulling me out of my dreams.

  “You’ve not the authority to counter my orders.”

  “Your orders cannot supersede hers,” he retorted with such conviction that Aunt Claire drew a sharp breath and leaned away.

  “Orders from Olivia? No oaths have been given. Honestly, she’s not capable of clear thought. She is my responsibility. I will judge when she is ready. Get back in here. Shade!”

  “And do what? We were lucky back there that we didn’t crash. The road is rapidly becoming impassable. My truck is pulling to the right and the engine temperature gauge has crept up into the red. We could be stuck waiting out the storm where there is no medical help. Dare we take the risk? We’re close enough that I can skim through Trainer’s Gorge using the snowmobile trails. The cover is dense; we’ll be protected from the brunt of the storm. I’ll come out at the road leading to the Summit ski slope. Dr. Long will be waiting.”

  “No, Olivia isn’t ready,” Aunt Claire argued.

  “That might not be a concern if we don’t get her help soon. Sorry, Claire, I’ve got to follow her orders. I’ve got to save the legacy.”

  “Don’t use that ploy to get your way. Again no oaths have been given.”

  “What is he . . .” I couldn’t finish. Fire engulfed me, scorching my insides. I doubled over writhing in my aunt’s arms as sweat lathered my body.

  “Go,” Aunt Claire ordered, pulling a blanket tight around my shoulders.

  I lolled against her side, not fully comprehending the strange scene unfolding outside the window. Shade had tossed his heavy coat into the back seat and was standing outside, shaking hard in the middle of a blizzard wearing an unzipped, stadium jacket. Snow streaked across the windshield, piling up along the edges and making it difficult for me to see outside. The next gust swallowed his body.

  I strained against Aunt Claire’s hold. “Make him come back inside. He’ll freeze to death.”

  “Olivia, listen to me. He’s alright. Trust us. Trust Shade. Everything will be fine.”

  When had I finally crossed the line over to the side of crazy? My scream couldn’t get past my narrowed throat. I shrank back, shoving frantically at my aunt’s restraining arm as translucent hands, with no real fixed shape, reached out for me. A whimpered scream became a faint sob as washed-out blue eyes swam into focus.

  “Claire, don’t attempt to drive. It’s too dangerous. Shad
and my father are coming. They’ll get you home. Come with me, Olivia.”

  “Come?” I squeaked, too terrified to mount a struggle as hot hands, that blended with the gray of the seat cushion and then changed over to the navy blue of my sweater, pulled me against a ghostlike chest.

  “Trust me, Livi. I will protect you.”

  “Aunt Claire!” I screamed as my maddened version of Shade stepped into the blizzard.

  “Keep the blanket over your head so you don’t get wind burn,” he ordered.

  I laughed high and tight, giving in to the madness.

  Flannel moved rhythmically against my cheek; its caress a comfort when the torch inside my stomach reignited. Cradled against his chest with only a blanket between me and the storm’s arctic blast, I became uncomfortably hot. I wiggled a finger up to my face and pulled aside a corner of the blanket. Snow-coated canyon walls and the occasional pine tree whipped by at a pace I couldn’t fathom. This was not happening. Don’t be an episode. Find normal. No matter how many times I blinked, Shade’s face stayed out of focus. It reminded me of looking through old rippled glass, distorted and hazy. In my maddened state, there were moments when he faded from my sight entirely. During those moments, sharp pricks stabbed my body as though I’d run into a hornet’s nest and was covered in hundreds of stings.

  He must have sensed my preoccupation with his appearance, for he shook his head and sighed. A trace of beige spread across his face. Then he looked down at me. Raised white bands had thrust out of crystal-blue seas just visible as slim crescents along the bottom edge of his eyes. He blinked and ice engulfed the seas. Glacier eyes, I gasped finding no other word to describe the frigid masses. The blanket was yanked up and shoved between my head and flannel. A firm arm held me there while I confronted a new level of terror. Certain the next time I opened my eyes, I would be in a psychiatric ward.

  Chapter 7

  A week and a half had passed since my two-day stint in the local clinic. On doctor’s orders, I hadn’t returned to school. Today marked the official start of Christmas break, and I was spending it puttering around my safe room with its pale, blue walls for company. Not even the big, fluffy flakes dropping out of the lead-gray sky could stir a drop of excitement. I shivered. Snow meant closed passes, not winter wonderland. Maybe I should’ve gotten out while I could. Upon my retrieval from Detective Lawson, Aunt Claire had gone about our days as though nothing had happened. But something had happened, and it went way beyond a misunderstanding. What I’d thought was normal had only been an illusion. Those gruesome accident scene photos had triggered nightmares far more horrible than before. I hardly slept. Instead, I stared at the ceiling, analyzing conversations with my father and questioning my aunt’s motives. I avoided everyone, especially Shade. After my delirium induced lunacy from a reaction to the detective’s drink, I couldn’t be near Shade and his watchful gaze. He had to agree; I was crazy.