Leopard's Kiss (Shadow Guardians) (Shadows Guardians Book 1)

by Stephanie Rowe

  Killian’s eyes widened, his face a dangerous mask. “Don’t talk to me about—”

  With a roar of fury, Slade shifted. His bones screamed in pain as he reclaimed his human form, and Anya whirled around. “Slade!”

  He landed on his hands and knees, then lurched to his feet, staggering as he tried to stay upright. Anya raced over to him and caught his arm as he swayed, sliding her arm around his waist. He locked his arm around her shoulders, dragging her against him as he fought to maintain his balance. His muscles were still weak, barely able to function, but he stood strong, doing his best to hide his weakness. “Don’t speak to her like that,” he said softly, unable to keep the growl out of his voice. “She’s under my protection.”

  Killian’s gaze went back and forth between them, his eyes narrowing. “This is who you declare yourself to? Her? Not your own brother?”

  Slade felt Anya stiffen beside him, and he squeezed her. Energy flared inside him, instinctively preparing to lash out at his brother and destroy all memories of his past, to do what it took to change it. He couldn’t afford for the shit to go south. Killian stood quickly, his eyes darkening, as if he knew what Slade had intended. Killian might have figured out how to protect against a standard memory wipe, but Slade had weapons that no one could defend against. He looked his brother in the eyes, and knew that this was the last time Killian would ever remember him, and it was the last time he’d ever speak to him again. “I love you,” he said quietly, as he prepared to strike. “I’m sorry.”

  Killian’s eyes widened. “Don’t—”

  “Stop!” Anya jumped between them, holding up her hands.

  Slade swore and aborted, knowing that she was in his line of attack. “Anya—”

  “Listen to me!” She whirled toward Slade. “Don’t do what you always do. This is your chance. You miss him. You know you do.”

  “I can’t.” He kept his attention on Killian, even as he reached for Anya to pull her out of the way. “I won’t let him be killed. He can’t be involved in this, or my life, or his own history.”

  “Death isn’t always the worst thing that can happen!” she snapped.

  He glanced at her, his heart turning over when he saw the tears glistening in her eyes. “Really? Would you have been willing to give up a relationship with your mother if it would have kept her alive? If you could have spared her the pain of being murdered, would you have done whatever it took?” He hated to bring it up, but he needed her to understand. Anya was his link to the humanity he’d abandoned so long ago. She was his anchor in a world where nothing mattered anymore.

  Tears streamed down her cheeks, and to his surprise, she shook her head. “No,” she whispered.

  “No?” He didn’t understand. “You’d let her suffer so you could have time with her?”

  “No.” Anya raised her chin. “But I would never have missed out on my time with her in hopes that maybe we could have lived longer separately. I’d rather live a shorter time and live it fully, than live an eternity in a vast wasteland of emptiness.”

  Slade’s gut twisted at her words. Silently, he looked toward his brother, standing there, looking so familiar, and yet also like a complete stranger. “Is that your life?” he asked Killian. “A vast wasteland of emptiness?” He felt like a great darkness was crushing down on him. Had he fucked up so badly? Had he destroyed his brother’s life when he’d tried to save it?

  For a long moment, Killian didn’t respond, and Slade felt something inside him begin to die. His legs buckled, and he went down on his knees, suddenly unable to breathe. He braced his hands on the carpet, fighting for oxygen. Jesus. Had it all been a lie, that he’d done the right thing for his brother?

  Anya knelt beside him, her hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean it like that.” Tears were still streaming down her cheeks. “I just loved my mom and my family so much I can’t imagine life without them. That doesn’t mean you have to make the same choice.”

  He touched her cheek, wiping the tears away. His chest hurt. His lungs hurt. Everything hurt. He didn’t know this kind of pain existed, the kind that had nothing to do with the body and everything to do with the soul. He’d worked so hard not to feel, and suddenly, all the precisely ordered rules of his life were cracking, tearing apart the foundation of what defined him.

  Killian suddenly crouched in front of him, his muddy boots leaving marks on Slade’s pristine, un-lived-in carpet.

  Keeping Anya’s fingers in his hand, Slade raised his head to look at his brother. For the first time in his life, he didn’t see the baby he’d tried to protect. He saw a man, heavily muscled, dangerous, and deadly. “I’m sorry,” Slade said. He didn’t even know what he was sorry for. Leaving Killian behind? Wiping his memory? Letting him figure out the truth? “I tried to do what was right. If I fucked it up, I’m sorry.”

  Killian’s face was impassive, his voice low as he spoke. “I have two families,” he said. “The one I was born to, and the one that raised me. All of them, good people. The only void in my life was the fact I didn’t get to know my brother. The rest of my life…” He shrugged. “It’s been good, Slade. Real good.”

  He searched Killian’s face. “It has?”

  “Yeah.”

  Slade’s muscles began to shake, and he bowed his head, fighting against emotions he had no idea how to cope with. Anya slipped her arms around his neck and pulled him close to her. He buried his face in her hair and held her, drinking in the familiar comfort of her body. He was so close to a precipice he didn’t have the tools to navigate. Every instinct told him to change paths, to abort, to go back to the world he knew…but there was another part of him, a budding, tiny whisper, that burned not to run away and revert to his life.

  Keeping his grip tight on Anya, he raised his head to look at his brother. Killian’s eyes were dark, fixated on him. “I’m an assassin,” Slade said. “I have more enemies than our parents ever did. I live a life in the shadows, because if I ever care about anyone, they will be a target as well. Anyone who’s in my life might die because of who I am.” His arms tightened around Anya as he said it. “It’s safest for you to never be associated with me. Plus, the bastards at the warehouse know who I am, so if you’re known as a Cross, you’re going to pick up those enemies as well. If you stay Killian Cross, you’ll be in danger every minute of every day. If you go back to your life, it’s over. You’re safe.”

  Killian’s brows went up, but he said nothing, waiting for Slade to finish.

  Slade took a deep breath. “I’ll let you choose,” he said, the words sticking in his throat. He didn’t want to let Killian choose. He wanted to make the choice for him, to wipe his mind and thrust him back into the safe world he’d grown up in, where his biggest heartache would be a fight with his wife or his kids, but looking into Killian’s eyes, he couldn’t make the choice for him. Not after what Anya had said. “If you become Killian Cross, then everyone you love will be in danger as well. Everyone who your enemies think you love will be in danger. You can’t protect them.” He met his brother’s steel gaze. “I’ll take it all away,” he said. “I can make you forget. I can give you back your life. But…” He stumbled, barely able to say the words. “If you want to live this life, I won’t stop you.”

  Just saying the words brought back images of death, of the moment when he’d lost those who mattered to him, the only people who mattered to him. His parents. His sister. His little brother. Himself.

  He stared at his brother, into the dark eyes that were so familiar, and yet belonged to a complete stranger at the same time.

  Silently, Killian reached into his back pocket. He pulled out his wallet, and removed a newspaper clipping from it. He held it out. “Read it.”

  Slade glanced at Anya, but he took it. She leaned over his shoulder as he unfolded it. It was an article from two months ago. Frowning, he scanned the headline. Family home burned to the ground. No survivors. His gut went cold when he saw the photograph. He kne
w that house. He’d stood outside it many, many times, wishing he could walk up to the front door and knock. He looked at his brother. “This is your home.”

  “My parents’.” A muscle ticked in Killian’s cheek, the only sign of emotion in his stoic face. “It’s where I grew up. My brother brought his fiancée home that night to meet the family. I had an emergency at the hospital, so I was late. Because some bastard had a heart attack, I wasn’t there to save them.” His jaw tightened, his voice grew hard. “They died. Four bodies, but only my parents were even identifiable. Complete carnage.”

  Slade swore, remembering all too well coming home to death. “I’m so sorry, Killian—”

  “They were murdered.”

  Anya sucked in her breath.

  Slade sat back on his heels, staring at his brother. “What?” Not again. Not again. Not again. He’d placed Killian with that family so he wouldn’t have to face something like that, to protect him from having his heart eviscerated. Cold rushed over him, the kind of icy cold that made it difficult to breathe. “You’re sure?”

  Killian nodded. “In the front yard, someone had carved the words, ‘Blame Killian.’ They knew my real name.”

  “Blame you?” Fury rolled through Slade. “Why?”

  Killian shrugged. “When I was searching for you, I uncovered a lot of shit I didn’t like. Shit I decided to change. Things involving shifters being kidnapped and sold, just like Mom was. Someone didn’t like what I was doing.” He looked at Slade. “Do you understand what happened, Slade? They were all innocent, and they died because of me. My brother was getting married. She died because she fell in love with a man who had the crappy luck to have me for a brother.”

  “He was lucky as hell to have you for a brother,” Slade snapped. “Never forget that.”

  “Was he?” Killian’s eyes were haunted, and Slade saw the same guilt and grief that had haunted him for so long. “Was she so lucky? Were my parents so lucky? They’re dead. My brother’s fiancée was named Charlotte Hunter. She was twenty-five. I never even met her, and she’s still dead because of me. Her family didn’t even get to identify her. They were just handed her burned-out remains and told ‘here’s your kid. Have a nice day.’” He bowed his head, running his hands through his hair, his fingers digging into his scalp as he fought back emotion he’d never let anyone see.

  Slade leaned forward. “Listen to me, Killian. You didn’t kill them. Some piece of shit did. You were trying to stop him, and that was the right thing to do. Dad fought for justice, and Mom was killed by his enemies, but even as she died, she told him to keep fighting. She never blamed him, so Dad never did either. He just kept fighting, and he took down as many as he could before they got him. I’m damned proud to be his son, and damned proud to be your brother.”

  Killian raised his head to look at Slade. His eyes were dark and haunted, carrying guilt that Slade knew would eat away at him until he died. “Thanks.”

  It was one word, but it created a bond, the bond that had never been able to form because Slade had left him in that church. Slade nodded, and both brothers sat back. The moment was over. The past had to be buried once again, or survival wasn’t possible.

  Slade cleared his throat as he tried to shut down his own emotions and analyze what Killian had told him. A sinking feeling seemed to be sucking him down, but he fought it off, trying to breathe, trying to stay above the swell of emotions. He glanced at Anya, and he saw tears glistening in her eyes. Too much death between the three of them. Too much fucking death.

  He held out his hand to her, and she slipped over to him, sliding her hand in his. He tucked their hands against his chest, trying to infuse warmth into her cold fingers while he focused on his brother. Someone had known Killian’s real name. Who had he pissed off with his questions? “Is that why you were at the warehouse tonight? Is that who you were after?”

  Killian hesitated, and his gaze flicked away for a split second. “Tonight had nothing to do with that. I was there because I’d sensed you were there, but once I was there, I realized what it was.” He looked at Slade. “As always, you’d left by the time I got there, but this time, you came back.” Killian sat down on the couch and leaned forward. “It’s too late to hide me, Slade. I’m in it. People know who I am. I want to get the bastards who killed both of my families, and if you wipe my mind, you’ll steal from me the justice I deserve. I’m not afraid.”

  Slade ran his hands through his hair. More people murdered. He’d tried to protect his brother, and he’d gotten it wrong. Not only had he failed to protect Killian, but his choice had resulted in four other people dying. Good people. People who mattered to Killian, and who mattered to him, because they’d taken care of his brother. “I’m sorry.” Those two words were so inadequate, but there weren’t any better ones. “Hell, Killian. I’m so sorry.”

  Killian inclined his head in acknowledgement. “I loved them. They were my family. I’m not going to stop until I make it right. Do you understand?”

  Slade nodded. Of anything, he understood that. “How can I help?”

  “Tell me what you know about the shifter black market. Leopards specifically.”

  Anya tensed, and Slade leaned forward. “Leopards?” he asked. “Why leopards?”

  Killian raised his brows in surprise. “My parents were leopards. Like us.”

  “They were? Like us?” Slade was too shocked to respond coherently.

  Killian frowned “Isn’t that why you placed me with them? They were my rock when I started shifting—”

  Slade leapt to his feet. “You shift? Into a leopard? A white leopard?”

  “Black.”

  “Black.” Slade sat down heavily. White leopards gave birth to only one white leopard. He knew that. But a black leopard? Was that a loophole he didn’t know about? “You’re a shifter.”

  “Yeah.” Killian grinned, the first genuine smile Slade had seen on his face. “It’s the best thing in my life. We have a place in the mountains where we go. It’s incredible to run free like that.” His face was softer, calmer, and his body seemed to relax visibly. “You going to run with me, bro? When this is over?”

  “Run with you?” He hadn’t run free in his entire life. Since before his first shift, he knew how dangerous it was to reveal himself. He shifted when he had to, but he kept it close and careful. He never just ran. “I don’t do that.”

  Killian’s smile faded, and he studied Slade. “Sorry to hear that.”

  Slade ran his hands through his hair, trying to clear his mind. Everything was raining down on him so quickly he couldn’t think.

  Anya leaned past him. “Killian, my best friend was kidnapped. We traced her to that warehouse, but she’s not there anymore. Slade went back to get more information. Do you know anything about those men? Or that warehouse?”

  Killian’s gaze flicked to hers. “She’s a shifter?”

  Anya hesitated, then nodded. “White leopard.”

  Killian’s face darkened. “Bastards.” He stood up and paced across the room, running his hand through his hair the same way Slade always did. “I got their license plates. Both Escalades had contained shifters recently. I was going to run the plates and see if I could get an address. You got a computer here?”

  Slade hesitated, watching as Killian stopped and looked at him, waiting. Was he really going to bring his brother into this situation? He worked alone. He existed alone. He thrived alone. And now, there were two people in his space, two people who mattered to him, two people who were so important to him that he’d be absolutely broken if something happened to them.

  “Slade.” Anya slipped her hand over his shoulders. “It’s okay to let us in. We already have baggage. We already live with danger every day. You don’t make it worse. You make it better.”

  He looked over at her, into her deep blue eyes. He felt so lost, like he was floundering in quicksand. She was beautiful, so achingly beautiful. He slid his hands through her hair, tunneling them through the silken tresses.
“I want to hide you and protect you from all this,” he whispered. “I can’t lose both of you. I can’t do it.”

  He’d worked so hard to be cold. He was used to it. It made life livable. But his walls were falling, and it was getting more difficult to breathe, to think, to focus. He looked at Killian. “Disappear,” he urged. “I’ll find out what happened to your parents. I’ll take care of it.”

  Killian’s eyes darkened. “Could you do that? Walk away?”

  “No, but I’m already fucked up. You’re not.”

  “Are you so sure?” Killian’s voice was cool, icy, and suddenly, Slade saw another side to him, a side that was just as ruthless and cold as he was. He realized suddenly that Killian was a warrior. He’d lived in the trenches, he’d battled enemies that had left him bleeding and raw, and he’d lost people who mattered. For Killian to break Slade’s memory wipe meant he was powerful, almost legendary. Only the demon had been able to withstand Slade’s attack. Granted, he hadn’t hit Killian as hard, but it had been clean. He should not have remembered…and yet…he had.

  “You need me,” Killian said simply. “You can’t do it alone. You know it.”

  Slade glanced at Anya, and then back at Killian. He’d been trying to take down these bastards his whole life, and they were smarter, faster, and better than he was. And now, they were after Anya, his brother, and Anya’s best friend.

  Could he really afford to work alone? He knew he couldn’t. There was too much at stake. It was no longer just about him, as much as he wanted it to be. He gripped Anya’s hand and met his brother’s gaze. “Okay. I’m in.”

  Chapter 20

  Anya paused in the doorway of Slade’s office, watching the two brothers bent over his desk, talking quietly as they watched the computer screen. They were so much alike, with their dark hair and intense eyes, the angle of their jaws, and even the lilt of their voices. Like Slade, Killian’s accent had a hint of British royalty that made him fit in perfectly with the lush office with its antiques, gilded picture frames, and the ornate French doors that opened to a beautiful deck high above the city.