by Nora Ash
“Kathryn.”
The dark voice, strong with the air of command, made me freeze, one foot lifted mid-flight.
“Don’t go looking for trouble. I will be very displeased with you if you follow anymore leads without my approval. Is that understood?”
A shudder made my back stiffen, and I could feel the weight of his stare pierce the area between my shoulder blades. I have no idea how I managed to croak a shaky “yes” before I fled into the night—fled the most dangerous man in the entire city.
The man who had claimed me as his.
Seven
I cried a lot that night, curled up in the safety of my bed while the shock of everything that had happened took control of my exhausted body. Only when the first rays of the morning sun filtered through my window did I finally run out of tears, leaving a feeling of numbness behind that finally allowed me to sleep.
The numbness was still there when I woke up in the early afternoon, along with the stiff muscles and white streaks down my thighs that reminded me all too vividly of my close encounter with St. Anthony’s greatest villain.
It was while I was staring at the dried-up semen on my skin and my brain idly reminded me that I’d need to stop by the pharmacy for a pill that the numb feeling finally disappeared. Seething anger took its place.
Who the hell did he think he was, treating me like some disposable toy? Sure, it wasn’t like I’d had the presence of mind to remember protection, but given my encounter with the thugs who’d brutalized me, I didn’t think I could be blamed for having a momentary lapse in judgment. The oversized goon who’d pressed me up against a wall and fucked me into submission, on the other hand? Heck yeah, I could blame him.
The thought of his hands and cock taking control of my body made my pussy throb unexpectedly. The delicate ache, and the shame of knowing that however much I was shocked and horrified about my encounter with The Shade, the memory of it still had my body aching for more, only increased my anger. I chose to direct it at The Shade, rather than my own wanton body. And Lightning, while I was at it. If it hadn’t been for his half-claim, The Shade would never have thought to mark me. The fact that I probably would be dead at the hands of the thugs if The Shade hadn’t taken an interest in me was something that, for now, I chose to ignore.
Both supes were clearly involved in whatever it was I had stumbled across with my article, and I seemed to have gotten stuck in the middle of their strife. Not the best place for a human girl to be—even if it did come with mind-blowing sex.
Huffing, I got out of bed and limped to the bathroom, determined to cleanse my mind and body of the lingering fear and longing.
Yet as I stood under the hot spray of the shower, I kept thinking back to how both Lightning and The Shade had told me to “stay out of trouble.” It would undoubtedly be the easier thing to do, if I trusted The Shade to keep his promise to protect me. I didn’t, though. Lightning hadn’t protected me when I was attacked, and The Shade… well, being the biggest, baddest villain in town didn’t exactly give him the most sterling of reputations. He had marked me to get at Lightning, and I had zero expectation that I was anything but a passing amusement to him.
The mark on the back of my neck pulsed weakly, as if to chastise me for my thoughts. I rubbed it irritably, and ignored the way touching it made my nipples harden. Yeah, as much as both supes might have warned me to not go chasing this story, it seemed to me that the only chance I had at getting out of whatever rabbit hole I’d fallen into was to keep digging until I made my way out of it alive. Trusting either of the two men who had tried—and in The Shade’s case, succeeded—to brand me like cattle would undoubtedly just land me in the role of a piece of rope in their tug-of-war. A piece of rope that would eventually snap.
The idea came out of nowhere. I stopped mid-shampooing, with my arms still lifted above my head and my fingers tangled in my wet locks.
If I wanted to get closer to the truth of what was going on with the superhumans and the mayor, I should look for other people who had stumbled across small pieces of the puzzle. But instead of looking for someone who had all the answers, perhaps I should look for someone who wasn’t there anymore. If The Shade hadn’t saved me, I would be dead. Perhaps there were other journalists out there who hadn’t been so lucky.
I finished up in the shower as quickly as I could and wrapped myself in a towel, then practically sprinted to my computer, too filled with purpose to stop for clothes.
It took me less than an hour to find what I was looking for.
Back in spring, Peter Miller had written a lot of outspoken blog posts about a superhuman villain called Bright and his supposed involvement with the mayor. The last installment on his blog described a conspiracy between the two, which vaguely outlined how the mayor had shifted city resources to fund weapons used by Bright in a major bank robbery the previous December.
It sounded like the ramblings of a madman, but that blog post was dated back in May—more than four months ago. When I checked Peter’s social media profiles, there hadn’t been any activity since May there, either. He was gone.
I bit my lip as I scrolled through his friends list. It could have been a coincidence. He could have died of natural causes, or maybe just given up on the Internet. Or gone on a nice trip somewhere warm and sunny. As I glanced at his smiling profile picture, I hoped he had. But after having been physically attacked for my own writings concerning the mayor and the superhumans, I somehow doubted that was the case.
There. My musings stopped when I came across the profile of a young man called Aaron “The Shizz” Kempf on Peter’s friends list, who had his address listed. When I scrolled through his pictures, I saw several of him and Peter together, smiling happily. He should be able to tell me if the reason for Peter’s absence from the Internet had a less troubling explanation than what my gut was telling me.
And if not, then this Bright person might be my next clue.
I looked out through the Bailey Hat windows lining the entire outer wall of my loft. The sun was still out, but Aaron lived across the river. It would be dark before I got home again, and after last night…
I shivered at the memory of fleeing through empty streets from the men hunting me like an animal. I had no desire to be out in the city after dark, but I needed to know if Peter had suffered the same fate I’d almost encountered last night. At least Aaron lived in a much better part of town than the deserted industrial quarter I’d been so stupid to go traipsing through on my own.
With a determined roll of my shoulders, I shook off my sense of dread at the prospect of braving the darkened streets and went to get dressed. If I was going to get myself out of this mess, I needed to find out exactly what it was I’d stumbled across with my article.
Hiding inside my apartment forever would not help me—following my instincts might.
At least, I hoped as much.
Eight
The Shade
She was such a frail-looking little thing, what with her soft curves and short stature. So completely vulnerable in her humanity. Yet as he saw her sit nearly naked in front of her computer, the obsessive fire in her eyes was evident even through her windows. She wasn’t staying out of trouble like a meek little human should—she was undoubtedly looking for more clues to the web of corruption St. Anthony was tangled in.
The Shade's mouth pulled into a wry smile, even as annoyance at being disobeyed rose in his gut. She had spine, the human, even if her physical appearance would suggest otherwise. First waltzing down dark and abandoned alleys in blind pursuit of a lead, and now this. While he couldn’t see her screen, he had no doubt she was in the process of getting even deeper into the thick of it.
Of course, that was what he wanted—a reporter he could control, and who was invested in exposing the mayor and whatever deal he had going on with some of the higher-ups in the supe community. He had never concerned himself with human law, and the more corrupt the governing body, the easier they were to use for his own inter
ests.
But if the stirrings in the supe community had any merit, this time was different. Something was going on within their own hierarchy, something tied to the human leaders in the city. As much as he despised the superhumans who had cast themselves as their leaders, he wasn’t stupid enough to ignore the possibility of corruption spreading within their ranks.
And that was where the soft little human he’d claimed last night came into the picture.
As if she could feel his attention, she lifted a hand from the keyboard to rub at the back of the neck where he’d bitten her.
His cock stirred at the memory of how well she’d responded to his mark. An echo of the ecstasy of pressing into her tight little cunt trickled down his spine, taking him from semi-aroused to rock hard in the blink of an eye, and he bit down on a groan.
He hadn’t intended to claim her until he’d seen Lightning’s weak mark on her creamy neck. The urge to steal her from his enemy had been instant and instinctive, but he’d managed to rationalize the animalistic desire before acting. If she was his, he would have much better control of her and what she posted on her blog, and he could use that to his advantage.
But he hadn’t anticipated the repercussions.
From the moment his teeth closed around the nape of her neck, something dark and possessive had welled up from the depths of his very being, clamoring for control—of him, as well as her. Even while he pounded into her, all he could think about was how much he needed more of her, needed her to cover every inch of him with her delicious heat and never let go.
The crazed yearning had only eased a little when he finally spilled his seed deep in her core—enough to let her leave the alley, but no matter where he was or what he was doing, his thoughts kept circling back to her. Even now, while he was looking at her pretty face, the urge to be inside of her made his balls tighten and his cock throb.
He still had the feel of her silky skin under his bare hands memorized. He never took off his gloves when he was masked, the chance of leaving fingerprints too big a risk, but he hadn't been able to resist touching her softness.
She belonged to him now. Every round curve and every warm touch. She was his.
“Sir?”
The Shade lowered the binoculars he only needed to keep up the ruse that he was human and looked over his shoulder at his servant, an eyebrow cocked in annoyance at the interruption.
“It’s getting late, sir. You have that meeting with the board across town in less than half an hour.”
The Shade sighed. He had no interest in listening to the squabblings of his board members, but keeping up pretenses was more important than ever, if he was to delve into human affairs. With his free hand he adjusted his persistent erection before making his way to the stairs so he could return to the waiting limousine.
Later, he would come back. Then he would figure out exactly what to do with the little human that made his body ache for release.
Next Book
Darkness Book Two
Follow Kathryn’s story in
HIDDEN IN DARKNESS
* * *
A human pet to dominate and control.
To breed.
That’s what I am to them.
They don’t care what I want—they only care who wins the claim to call me his.
But with corruption running deep, and my city on the brink of destruction, I need to find a way to save it. If the two supes fighting for dominance over my body refuse to do it… I guess I have to.
* * *
Excerpt
* * *
There was a time I spent my days in front of my computer, writing about cultural issues and events in an effort to pay off my ever-increasing credit card debt. On occasion, mainly when I’d been a hermit for too long, I’d grab my laptop and venture to the nearest coffee shop. Sometimes I’d even smile at the other patrons over my caramel latte.
It had been four days since my life had changed, and I already missed the monotony. Some people were made out to be investigative reporters who lived life on the edge and got a kick out of flirting with danger. I was not one of those people.
Yet here I was, once again traipsing through the most crime-infested city in North America in search of clues that would pull me deeper into St. Anthony’s seedy underbelly.
I pulled my coat tighter around myself in an attempt to hide from the other people hurrying along on the wet pavement. Not that any of them paid me any notice—they were all as eager as I was to get out of the rain. I told myself that my sense of foreboding was purely a result of knowing what would happen if the wrong people found out that I was still digging where I had explicitly been told not to—AKA the convoluted link between the mayor and the supes that I had inadvertently stumbled upon while blogging about my meeting with St. Anthony’s favorite hero.
Lightning. I frowned at the thought of the superhuman who had been my unwitting access point to the darker part of the city. He might have saved me from a robbery at our first meeting, but he’d also pulled me into this mess. And he was the reason I’d met… him.
The Shade.
A shiver traveled down my spine at the memory of the man who had saved my life just last night, but demanded my submission in return. The Shade—the man rumored to have caused a thousand deaths and have a dark pit where his soul was meant to reside—had killed the men sent to torture me for information I didn’t possess. He was no hero, yet he had been my only salvation from an untimely, and undoubtedly very unpleasant, death.
I could still feel the pleasurable tenderness deep inside from where he had joined his body with mine amid the broken bodies of my attackers, and I hated myself for the immediate clenching from down low at the thought of it.
I had never had sex like that, never even thought my body was capable of such excruciating pleasure—but it really shouldn’t matter. The Shade was evil to the core, and I certainly shouldn’t be getting all hot and flustered thinking about the most shameful thing I’d ever done.
Superhumans. Nothing but goddamn trouble.
And that was exactly why I was here now, on my way to digging myself deeper into the corruption in hopes that I would somehow be able to take control of my own life, and not depend on either supe to save me again. As much as I would have been screwed without The Shade’s intervention last night, I didn’t exactly have much faith in my continued survival if I relied on him or Lightning to get me out of this mess. They clearly had their own agendas, and being on either of them would likely get me into more trouble than any human being could handle.
The mark on the back of my neck, left by first Lightning and then The Shade, throbbed at my rebellious thoughts. I reached up to rub it, annoyed with the way the contact made my nipples tighten. There hadn’t been any visual blemish on my skin from the last bite, but I could feel it buzz every time my thoughts drifted to either of the two men who had thought they could claim me.
Hopefully it would go away on its own soon.
My morose thoughts were interrupted when my gaze landed on the sign for Freeman Street. I turned right down it, keeping my eyes peeled for number 17. Thankfully, the area was well-lit, and I found the apartment building easily. Now all I needed to do was to convince my unsuspecting lead to talk to me.
I rang the buzzer to the address I’d found online and waited. The rain was coming down heavier now, and I huddled up in my coat and prayed Aaron would let me in before it soaked through to my clothes and skin.
“Yeah?” a male voice, scratchy with electronic disturbance, asked from the entry phone.
“Aaron Kempf?” I moved closer to the small box to make sure he could hear me over the noise from the street. “My name’s Kathryn Smith. I was wondering if I could speak with you? It’s about your friend, Peter.”
A long silence followed.
“Hello?” I half-shouted after half a minute without a reply. “Can you hear me?”
No reply. I pressed the buzzer again, thinking the connection must have been cut.
“Oh, don’t stand out in the rain, sweetheart. You’ll get soaked to the bone.”
I nearly jumped out of my skin at the friendly voice sounding from right behind me. I whipped around and came face to face with an old man wearing a hat and holding an umbrella. He smiled at me and pointed the keys in his hand toward the door. “Here, why don’t I let us in so we can get out of this dreadful weather?”
I stepped out of his way with a grimace I hoped mimicked his smile, too astonished that anyone in this city trusted a stranger enough to just up and let them into their building like this to respond. Apparently, my drowned-mouse impression left me looking very non-threatening.
“Thank you,” I managed as I slipped past him and into the stairway.
“Who are you here to visit?” the old man asked while we entered the small elevator. It was a tight squeeze fitting the two of us and his umbrella into it, but at least it seemed in a good enough state that I shouldn’t worry about its capability of carrying more than one passenger. Not like the elevator that went up to my loft, which, frankly, seemed like a game of Russian roulette every time I got into it.
“Aaron Kempf.” I pressed the button for the third floor. The old man pressed the button for the fourth, then clasped both hands around the handle of his umbrella, his bushy eyebrows raised.
“Is that right? I never thought him much of a ladies’ man. Always seemed fonder of the boys, if you know what I mean.”
I cleared my throat uncomfortably and offered him a smile. “I’m just a friend.”
“Hm. Well, if you fancy a cup of hot tea to warm up on after visiting your friend, my apartment is 4B.”