by Amy Hale
Shadows of Deception
The Shadows Trilogy, Book Two
Amy Hale
Copyright 2016 Amy Hale
All rights reserved.
E-BOOK EDITION
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and events are the product of the author’s imagination. Resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite e-book retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Cover Design: Sarah Hanson, Okay Creations
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Editor: Wendi Temporado with Ready, Set, Edit
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Interior Design: Champagne Formats
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Other Books by Amy Hale
Dedication
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Other Books by Amy Hale
Ulterior Motives
Shadows of Jane, The Shadows Trilogy, Book One
Catching Whitney
Coming Soon
Shadows of Deliverance, The Shadows Trilogy, Book Three
Jane startled awake. Another dream as bad as the last, and all the dreams before that one. In her nightmares, children cried out and reached for her. They called her by name. Angry men surrounded the innocent youths and began to restrain them as they injected them with drugs. Jane struggled to reach them but couldn’t seem to break through an invisible barrier. Then everything went dark and all she could hear were the sobs of a little girl.
She rubbed her face and sighed. If she wasn’t being plagued by dreams, she was dealing with headaches. Ever since the incident near the compound where they’d confronted Professor Russell, she’d not quite been the same.
After her semi-lengthy hospital stay, Colt had brought her back home with him. Not that she had anywhere else to go anyway, but after she’d unknowingly run right into the arms of the enemy, she could hardly have blamed him if he’d decided to walk away from her. That wasn’t Colt’s style—at least, not with her. He reminded her frequently that they were in this together. She smiled at the thought.
No matter what happened, Colt seemed to be the one consistent blessing in her life. He also created a fear she couldn’t explain. She suspected it was a fear of losing him, or maybe it was failing him. Then there was always the worry that The Curators would use him against her. He was a weakness they could easily exploit should they ever surface again. So far they had done a frustratingly good job of going underground. She and Colt had spent the entire summer looking for some trace of the horrible organization that had held her captive for so many years.
She frowned and looked out the window nearest the bed. The sunlight created luminous streaks across the comforter and the floor. She tugged on the edge of the covers and pulled them up under her chin, snuggling in as she watched the leaves fall outside her window. It was October—cold winds were starting to become the norm, and nature had traded vibrant greens for the softer tones of brown, gold, and orange.
Her solemn thoughts were interrupted by the shrill sound of her cell phone’s ringtone. It sounded like sirens going off, and it annoyed Colt immensely. While she wasn’t fond of it herself, she knew it was likely to be unique since most people had music of some kind for their ringtones. With the siren, she’d at least know it was her phone that needed answering.
She rolled toward the nightstand and picked up the phone, swiping the answer button as she brought it to her ear.
“Hello?”
Colt’s deep voice vibrated through the phone, reaching all the way to her spine and giving her little shivers. “Good morning, beautiful.”
Jane smiled and bit her bottom lip. “Hey.” Her voice was still a little scratchy, and Colt groaned.
“Oh, baby. Did I wake you up? You’re using your sexy ‘I’m not quite awake’ voice.”
Jane’s eyes widened and she laughed. “I don’t have a voice like that.”
“You sure as hell do, and it drives me insane. I love it.”
Jane rolled her eyes. “If you say so.” She scooted herself up on the bed and leaned against the headboard. “What’s up?”
Colt cleared his throat. “I wanted to let you know that I just heard from Dr. Weston. His contacts in the research community have run out of addresses for us to check.”
Jane was quiet while she tried to take in that bit of information. Another dead end. Dr. Weston, a close friend and her personal physician, had pulled some strings among his prestigious friends in the scientific community. A few had heard rumors of experimental facilities that dabbled in telekinesis and other such oddities, but so far none of them had been connected with The Curators.
“Listen, beautiful. We aren’t giving up. It feels like we are back at square one, but we’re not. We now know where not to look. It’s progress, even if it doesn’t feel like it.”
Tears welled in Jane’s eyes. “I know. I’m just so worried about my friends. All those children. Who knows how many more they’ve kidnapped since I escaped. I can’t bear to think of it.” A sob escaped, and she quickly worked to tamp down any others that were behind it.
Colt’s voice expressed his worry. “Are you okay, Jane? Do you want me to come home? I came in extra early, so I’m almost done with Mac’s bike. I can always finish up later.”
“No, you stay there and finish. I’m fine. I think I’m gonna take a hot shower and enjoy a cup of coffee before I start my day.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely sure.”
“All right then. See you soon, sweetheart.”
“Bye, Colt.”
She hung up the phone, then closed her eyes and leaned her head back. Taking a deep breath, she willed herself to get up and behave like a normal person. While she knew it was fair to say she wasn’t a normal person, thanks to her remarkable abilities, she really wanted to be, so she was trying to get into an average routine. Sadly, her dreams kept her from resting properly, and she would often sleep well into the morning hours. She glanced at the clock and noticed it was just after eight AM. She had hoped to be up by six, but that never seemed to happen.
Jane took a long shower, letting the hot water run down her muscles and soothe away a little of her tension. She closed her eyes and leaned her head forward, letting the spray fall on the back of her neck and head. She inhaled deep breaths and tried to will away her anxiety and guilt for leaving her friends behind when she escaped.
Jane had just reached to turn off the water when she was blinded by a headache of immense proportions. She clutched the side of her head and slid to the bottom of the tub while water continued to run over her in what was then lukewarm rivulets. She placed her head between her knees and tugged at her hair, trying not to scream as a vision forced its way into her consciousness.
She was standing in a massive graveyard. All the graves were dug and open but the
y were empty. It was as if someone had done the excavation, expecting them to be full at any moment. Jane wandered through the tombstones, looking at the names already engraved into the granite. Most she didn’t recognize, but a few seemed familiar, although, she wasn’t placing faces with the names.
She looked up and noticed a lone headstone at the top of a small rise. The significance of that drew her closer. She reached the edge of the grave and reluctantly peeked into the freshly dug opening. A gray casket had been lowered but had yet to be covered up. Fear gripped her heart like a vice. It took every ounce of strength to raise her eyes and see the name inscribed in the polished marble.
Colt Henderson
She felt the air leave her lungs as if she’d been kicked in the stomach. A scream tore from her throat, and her knees gave out. She landed in the soft earth, her hands grasping the dirt as if it could somehow bring him back. She raised her face to the sky, and angry clouds began to quickly roll in and surround her from above. Jane let out a guttural scream full of fury and pain, which caused lighting to strike in waves around her.
“Jane. Jane.”
She heard her name being called, but it seemed to be miles away. She couldn’t reach out to it. She couldn’t find it.
“Damn. Brett, call Dr. Weston, now!”
Recognizing Colt’s voice, she became aware of her surroundings. She was lying in the tub, surrounded by what was left of the glass shower door. Small pools of blood were forming and then dissipating in the ice cold water that still ran from the shower head. Colt turned off the water and grabbed the towel from the rack.
He took her hand and looked into her eyes. “Are you with me, baby?”
She nodded, but her eyes held a glint of desperation.
Assuring he had a firm grasp on both her hands, he pulled her to a standing position, making sure she didn’t stand on any of the shards around her. He then wrapped her in the towel and carefully lifted her from the tub. Colt carried her to the living room and sat her on the sofa, assuring the towel kept her covered.
Brett ran in with his cell phone to his ear. “Yeah, Doc, I don’t know what happened yet. Here’s Colt.” He handed the phone to his older brother and moved to sit next to Jane, hoping he could somehow comfort her.
Colt put the phone on speaker and sat on her other side. “Hey, Doc. We came home and she was screaming and pretty out of it.” He looked at her face and paused. “She should tell you herself since I don’t know the whole story.”
“Jane? Are you there, girl? Are you okay? Tell me what happened.” Dr. Weston’s voice had that fatherly tone that she’d come to adore.
“I’m okay now.” She pulled the towel tighter around her and noticed that blood was starting to soak through in a few places. She quickly relayed what she could remember, however, she left out the part about seeing Colt’s grave. She couldn’t seem to force herself to admit the horrible visualization out loud. It was too real. Too painful.
Dr. Weston’s voice broke through her mounting grief. “Jane, you know yourself better than anyone. If you really believe you’re okay, I’ll accept that. But if you want me to examine you, or feel you need anything at all, you know I’m here. Do you want to come into the office?”
“No, Doc. Really, I’m fine now. Thank you.”
Colt released a heavy, frustrated sigh. Brett frowned at her.
“Okay, call if you need me. Anytime. I mean it.” Then Dr. Weston hung up.
She turned to Colt. “I’m gonna bleed all over the cushions. Can we discuss this after I get these cuts cleaned up?”
He nodded, but she knew he wasn’t about to let it go.
Brett jumped up. “I’ll grab the first-aid kit.” He jogged into the bathroom, then stopped and shouted, “Balls! You sure did a number on the shower door!”
Colt groaned and rubbed a hand over his face. “Just get the damn kit.”
Brett hurried back to the living room, and as he passed the box to Colt he said, “Keep your pants on, old man. I got it.”
Colt placed the box in his lap, then used one hand to push back the wet auburn strands from Jane’s face while simultaneously giving Brett the finger with the other hand.
Brett grinned at him. “No, thanks. I’m not into that.”
Colt ignored him as he pulled gauze and antiseptic from the box. Jane leaned into Colt so he could see the small cuts beneath her collarbone. Brett cleared his throat.
“Uh, eventually that towel will have to come off, and as much as I’d like to hang around, Jane, I don’t want to embarrass you.” Colt shot him a dirty look. “Not to mention Colt would gouge my eyes out if he thought I saw anything.”
Jane laughed, and Colt sighed. “Don’t encourage him.”
Brett spoke again. “Anyway, I’m gonna make a beer run and get out of your way for a bit. You guys want me to bring anything back?”
Jane lifted one brow. “A beer run? This early?”
Brett smiled at her. “It’s not that early. It’s almost two o’clock, after all.”
Her face fell. “Two? In the afternoon?”
Brett nodded and shot Colt a concerned glance.
Colt stopped dabbing at a cut on her shoulder. “When did you get in the shower? You mentioned taking one after we got off the phone.”
She closed her eyes and took in a shaky breath. “I got in right after I hung up with you.”
Colt put the gauze down and took her hand. He rubbed his thumb over her palm and looked into her eyes. “You were lying like that for hours?”
“I don’t know. I guess. Although, it seems like it was less than an hour ago.”
Colt started to silently fume, and Brett took that as his cue to leave. “Well, I’m outta here for a bit. If you think of anything, text me. Or don’t. Whatever.” He made his exit quickly, hoping to escape the argument he knew was coming.
Colt stayed silent as he finished cleaning up her cuts and scrapes, which weren’t near as bad as they’d seemed once he got a good look at them. Most of them were on her arms where she’d instinctively shielded herself from the fragments.
Standing, Jane walked to the bedroom, and Colt followed closely behind. She walked to the closet and pulled out jeans and a sweater. Colt stood at her back, close enough that she could almost feel the heat radiating from his body. She closed her eyes, knowing he was ready to rehash the same argument they’d been having for weeks.
“I’m not upset at you—I know it’s not your fault—but I am frustrated that you won’t let Dr. Weston look at you. Maybe he can find a way to stop these headaches.”
She turned, and he wrapped his arms around her with her clothes awkwardly crushed between them. “Colt, we’ve discussed this. I’m not an ordinary patient. He can’t help me. I’m not sure anyone can.” Her last statement was full of a hopelessness that she couldn’t keep hidden.
He kissed her nose. “We won’t know if we don’t try.”
“I know. I feel it in my bones, Colt. This isn’t your average migraine. I’m not seeing spots; I’m seeing freakin’ horror movies!”
Colt took the clothes from her and tossed them behind him, then pulled her to his chest. She buried her face in his neck and fought back the tears that threatened to fall.
“I’m sorry. It scares me too. I just want to be sure we are doing everything we can for you.”
She sniffed and snuggled closer. “I know.”
Colt pulled away and looked into her eyes. He ran his thumb across her bottom lip, then leaned in to give her a slow, passionate kiss. She tried to lose herself in his touch, praying it would erase the fear that currently occupied her mind. When he ended the kiss, he allowed just enough space between them to let her towel drop to the floor. In one quick motion, he scooped her off the floor and then gently placed her on the bed.
The look in his eyes was a mix of mischievousness and lust. She couldn’t help but laugh.
“What have I told you about laughing when we are in bed?”
She tried to paste on a seri
ous face but failed as her chuckles started to escape her tightly pressed lips.
He hovered over her, arms on either side of her head. Lowering his weight on top of her, he gave her a wicked grin. “You’re being a bad girl. Looks like you need to be taught a lesson.”
She truly hoped so. His lessons were always so much fun.
It had been a couple weeks since Jane’s vision of the graveyard. She tried not to let the images flood her mind, but it was difficult. Her worry for Colt, compounded with her worry for her friends, was starting to take its toll. She slept even less than before, and her appetite was greatly diminished. She was withdrawing into herself, and even though she realized it was happening, she was clueless as how to stop it.
She sat on the couch, not really watching whatever daytime show was running on the local channel. Her thoughts kept drifting to her overwhelming guilt. Why did I leave without the others? What was I thinking? I was so selfish! Then she’d switch gears and worry over Colt. What if I get him killed? What was that last vision all about? Was it a warning? She buried her face in her hands and fought back the panic that threatened to choke her.
She heard Colt open the front door and toss his keys on the counter. She sat upright and tried to pretend she was watching television. He stepped into the living room and studied her cautiously. Picking up the newspaper, he sat on the cushion beside her, then he leaned into her and kissed her on the forehead. “How’s my girl today?”
Jane swallowed then curled her legs underneath her. “I’m okay.”
“I’m okay” had been her standard reply ever since her accident in the shower. She never offered up details, and that worried him. He felt sure she was hiding something, or at the very least, omitting something important. Whatever it was, it was keeping her from opening up to him. She was bottling her emotions, pretending they could be easily ignored.
He had tried to be patient, wanting to allow her to work through whatever it was that had her distancing herself. It was difficult for him to bite his tongue where she was concerned. He wanted to make things better. He wanted to have the answers. But he knew that what she was going through wasn’t something he could fix. He could only stand beside her and hope that his support and love would be enough.