A scuffing sound, so faint a normal person wouldn’t have heard it, alerted him. Tienan would give whoever was trailing him credit. His tracker wasn’t rushing to chase him, but following him in a methodical manner, secure enough in his tracking skills to know he wouldn’t lose Tienan.
That might be the case if Tienan were a normal man, but his skills gave him something extra. He could easily use his strength and cunning to evade whoever was after him. It would be a simple matter to scale the side of the building and disappear in the shadows if he chose to do so.
But this tracker had gotten dangerously close on several occasions over the past month. He’d never seen who was after him, but more than once, he’d sensed his presence. Most folks would laugh, insisting there was no way he could know it was the same person.
But Tienan knew.
It was in the way the tracker moved, the way he went about his business. There was a methodical pattern that never varied. When Tienan felt something that strongly, he listened to his instincts.
The two of them were locked in a deadly game of hunt-and-evade, which neither of them would abandon. But the game was about to come to an end. The hunted had become the hunter.
It was time to discover who was following him and why. Most likely it was an assassin sent by the General to terminate him once and for all, but Tienan didn’t like to make assumptions. Which was the reason he’d led the tracker to this particular building. Tienan had stayed here two nights ago and decided it was as good a place as any to bait his trap. There were no other squatters living in or around the building. It had been abandoned by all but the rats years ago. Although it was falling down, there were a few areas that were strong and solid. He’d taken the time to set up an interrogation room in what had been the basement. That way he wouldn’t be disturbed as he talked to the tracker and uncovered the truth. And by talk, he meant gaining the information he needed, no matter what means he had to use to get it.
The cool, damp air penetrated his clothing, the leather pants and jacket not quite heavy enough to keep out the cold. Tienan ignored it the same way he did everything else. His focus completely on the person tracking him and his surroundings. There was always the possibility the tracker wasn’t alone.
It would make more sense for them to send a team to take him down. The General knew what he was capable of. It would take more than one man to kill him no matter how skilled at killing he was. No one was as good as him. He wasn’t just any Alpha, but Alpha One, the best of the best.
He felt no sense of pride in that admission. Nor was there any sense of conceit. It was a fact, much like the cold and damp that currently enveloped him.
He had a blade strapped to his back, a dagger in each boot and another one in a sheath at his waist, but his hands were empty. He didn’t need weapons to kill. A heavy strand of wire was tucked up his sleeve. He’d garrote the tracker after he found out whatever he needed to know. It was a quicker, quieter method of disposing of his problem.
Tienan felt no sense of remorse at the thought of killing. The man had come after him. Death was inevitable.
If he hadn’t had enhanced hearing, he would never have heard the subtle sound of breathing just a dozen feet away.
Still motionless, he waited for his tracker to come closer. There was no sound to give away any movement, but his nostrils detected the lightest scent of...
Disbelief filled him. Impossible.
He let the perfume drift into his nose once again. There was no mistaking it. The faintest trace of honey and soap was there for sure. But underlying it was the unmistakable scent of a woman.
* * *
Silence crouched next to a Dumpster, her stomach roiling as the stench of years of garbage and excrement assaulted her nostrils. Nothing. She strained her ears, searching the darkness for even a hint of sound out of the ordinary. The wind blew gently between the dilapidated buildings, whistling through broken windows and shattered walls. Rats scurried along the dirt and bricks, their nails scratching as they went in search of food and shelter.
She felt a kinship with the rats. She’d been like them once—a shadow, a forgotten child rummaging through the trash at night, hiding to stay alive during the day. If she’d had parents, she didn’t remember them. Her earliest memories were of being alone, of scratching and clawing to survive.
Then he’d found her. Tall and strong, Adrian had been eighteen when he’d found her sick and huddled in a dank corner of a burned-out building, much like the one before her.
She shuddered as memories threatened to swamp her. Those were dark days she didn’t like to remember. Hunger and thirst had been living entities, eating her alive from the inside out. And the cold. God, how she remembered the cold. Her clothing had been little more than rags; it had been months since she’d been well enough to fend for herself and pilfer some new ones.
She’d been certain he was going to kill her. To her twelve-year-old eyes, he’d seemed much older. Bigger too. Even though he hadn’t been fully grown then, he’d towered over her. And if there was one thing her experience on the streets had taught her, it was that the strong took what they wanted from the weak.
Instead, he’d lifted her into his arms, taking her away from the squalor. Even as he’d fed her and nursed her back to health, she hadn’t trusted him, refusing to talk. He’d taken it with good humor, giving her the name Silence. She liked it. She’d never had a name before.
Eventually, he’d broken down the walls she’d built around herself for protection. Adrian had become the brother she’d never had. He was her family and she’d do whatever it took to protect him.
And right now the man she was tracking was a danger to Adrian and the entire group he led and protected. She wasn’t the only stray he’d taken in over the years.
Adrian was the leader of the Resistance. They were an organized group of rebels who lived to bring an end to the reign of terror headed by the Ruling Council and General Caruthers. They wanted the same rights and privileges as those inside the Gate. The same access to food and medical care and security.
Over the past twelve years, Silence had earned a reputation as a tracker. She could slip in and out of anywhere without anyone knowing she’d ever been there. She was silent as a ghost, never leaving a trace behind as she flitted in and out of dangerous places, seeking information on the security force and those inside the city. Knowledge was power and she was very, very good at obtaining it.
She’d literally almost stumbled over the man she was tracking more than a month ago. There had been rumors of two men living in the ruins just beyond the inner city. Ghosts, some said. Demons, claimed others. That was news, and not necessarily good news. These men were strong and cunning and not known to any of her usual sources.
Rumor was that they were spies for General Caruthers. A more sinister rumor was that they were actually Alphas. A shiver snaked down her spine. Alphas were legendary. They were efficient killers. Totally focused with no emotions. It was commonly believed by everyone that the Alphas were all dead, killed by their creators. But still, the whispers remained, circulated between friends and allies around fires over a mug of cheap ale on a cold night.
Those who lived in the ruins kept tabs on all the comings and goings from the city. Their lives depended on it. The security force was always rounding up those they could find and taking them back to interrogate them or put them to work in their factories as slave labor. No one ever returned.
The General was trying to stamp out the Resistance, but as long as there was breath in their bodies, they would all fight. Which brought her back to her reason for being out on this godforsaken night. She’d found one of the strangers. She’d lost his trail over and over these past weeks, but she’d persisted until she’d located him again.
Tonight, she was determined to follow him back to wherever he was living. Once she knew his location, she’
d hurry back and tell Adrian so he could decide what to do. She winced as she imagined his reaction. He’d told her in no uncertain terms to leave this man alone.
Actually, his exact words had been, “Stay the hell away from him, Silence. And that’s an order.”
Normally, she’d follow whatever orders he gave her. But not this time. She would protect Adrian at all costs. It didn’t matter to her that he was bigger, stronger and older.
Even though she couldn’t hear a thing, she waited. Seeing the stranger was out of the question. In this fog, she was lucky to see a few feet in front of her face. The fine hairs on the back of her neck lifted. For the first time since she started her hunt, she began to think that maybe this wasn’t such a great idea. Not on a night like tonight. The shadows were too deep and the air was tinged with something dark and dangerous. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it. It wasn’t desperation or fear. It was more like anticipation. Expectation.
Silence swallowed back the lump of fear that threatened to clog her throat. She sucked in a deep breath and held it, trying to slow the wild rhythm of her heart. She’d evaded teams of security police many times in her life, tracking information and people to the very edge of the Gate itself. To be caught was certain death. Yet she’d done it. And in all those times, she’d never been half as scared as she was at this moment.
The hunter had become the hunted.
He knew she was out here. He knew she was following him.
But how? No one ever knew. She could even track Adrian for a short time without him knowing, and no one was better than Adrian at detecting a tracker. No one.
She froze in place, not blinking, her chest barely moving as she kept her breathing shallow and light. If he didn’t know her exact location, she didn’t want to attract his attention. Nor could she move until she knew he was gone. She would outwait him. She was good at that.
And if it came down to it, she’d run like hell. Silence knew this area of the outer city like the back of her hand. There were plenty of bolt holes and camps where she could find shelter. No one would turn her away, not unless they wanted to get on Adrian’s bad side, which no one did. She loved her adopted brother, but she knew his strengths and his faults. He was strong, incredibly smart and loyal, but he was also ruthless and unforgiving. You didn’t cross him if you wanted to live.
That was the way it had to be. It was the only way to keep some kind of order among the Resistance. What had started as a ragtag group a dozen years ago was now an organized fighting machine.
Time lost all meaning as she shrank back into the shadows beside the Dumpster. Sweat trickled down her temples and burned her eyes, but she didn’t dare reach up to wipe it away. Her dark T-shirt stuck to her body beneath her thin black jacket. She could have been standing here five minutes or five hours.
Realistically, she knew it was more like five minutes, it just felt much longer. A rat scrambled down the alley, scampering over the toe of her right boot before disappearing through a crack at the base of the rusted metal Dumpster.
She had to move. All her senses were telling her she was alone. There was no scent or sound of another human being around. The fog was disorienting. It was easy to convince herself that the earlier feeling she’d had of being hunted was nothing more than a combination of the strangeness in the air tonight, coupled with her imagination.
She’d go home and try to find her quarry another night, one that was much brighter.
A sense of defeat descended on her. She hated the feeling. The days of being a victim were long behind her. She wasn’t a defenseless child with no one who cared about her. She was Silence, legendary tracker and adopted sister of Adrian.
She’d just ghost around the building in front of her and see if she could pick up his trail. If she could, she’d come back tomorrow in the daylight and have a better look around. Two minutes and she’d be on her way home.
Her boots made no sound as she slipped quietly around the large metal trash bin, still keeping to the shadows. She might think she was alone, but she wasn’t stupid. The building loomed before her, a hulking beast. Most people feared the shadows, but not Silence. She’d learned at an early age to use the blackness of night to her advantage.
And she did so now, stepping carefully down the alleyway. Her muscles twitched, wanting action, but she ruthlessly controlled her movements. Sweat soaked her body, plastering her hair against her skull. Adrenaline surged through her veins, causing her heartbeat to race.
The knife resting against her hip was cold comfort. She’d used it when she was sixteen to stop a man from raping her. She hadn’t killed him, but the wound had bled copiously, covering her hands and clothing. Her screams had also brought Adrian to her rescue. He’d killed the man with his bare hands, ripping his still-beating heart from his body.
No one had touched Silence again. At least not without her permission. It had been several years since she’d had sex. She’d had offers. The most recent from a fellow tracker. Sandor was handsome enough but there was no spark between them and she’d turned him down. He’d taken her rejection well enough, but she’d been careful not to be alone with him. She found it hard to trust most men. It was nothing personal.
She didn’t miss sex, not the act itself. What she missed was the closeness after sex, the few moments of being held securely in a man’s arms.
It was a weakness, and one that could be used against her. She’d decided it was much easier to be alone. At least that’s what she told herself as she lay alone in her cold bed night after night.
She released a tiny sigh. She was certainly in a strange mood tonight. She rarely thought about her childhood or the lack of a relationship in her life. There was definitely something in the air.
It was time to go home.
Swiveling on her heel, she started toward the opening at the end of the alley. She’d had enough tonight. Tomorrow she would begin again.
There was no warning, no sound. A huge forearm suddenly wrapped around her midsection and another banded across her throat, cutting off her supply of air.
She kicked back at her attacker, while slamming her head toward his face. The two simultaneous moves should have loosened his hold. He countered each move so quick it was as though she’d never made them.
His hold tightened, making it harder for her to breathe. Blackness tinged the edges of her vision. The entrance to the alley was merely a few steps away. It tempted her, taunted her. Now she knew why she’d had such strange thoughts about her childhood, Adrian and her life in general.
She was going to die.
Killed at the hands of an unknown assassin. Her only consolation was that her death would alert Adrian to the danger and he would be able to take the necessary precautions to protect himself and the people who depended on him.
She clawed at the arm pinned against her throat, but it was protected, covered in leather. Her movements became more sluggish as the blood supply to her brain dwindled. Still, she couldn’t quit fighting.
Silence thought she heard a male swear. The thought that she was making this difficult on him made her smile.
Then darkness swarmed up and consumed her, swallowing her whole.
Don’t miss
EMBRACING SILENCE by N.J. Walters,
Available now wherever
Carina Press ebooks are sold.
www.CarinaPress.com
Copyright © 2016 by N.J. Walters
Author’s Note
This book was previously released in 2009 by another publisher under the title of Sweet Charity. It has been revised and updated for rerelease with Carina Press.
I am grateful to Carina Press for making this revised and updated edition of this book available to readers so they can enjoy the previously published Project Alpha series.
Also available from N.J. Walters
and Carina Press
The Gift of Shayla
Project Alpha Series
Embracing Silence
Assassin’s Awakening
Alpha’s Revenge
About the Author
Once upon a time N.J. had the idea that she would like to quit her job at the bookstore, sell everything she owned, leave town and write romance novels in a place where no one knew her. And she did. Two years later, she went back to the bookstore and settled in for another seven years. One day she gave notice at her job on a Friday morning. On Sunday afternoon, she received a tentative acceptance for her first romance novel, and life would never be the same. More than a decade and over eighty books later, she’s still writing.
N.J. Walters is a New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author who has always been a voracious reader, and now she spends her days writing novels of her own. Vampires, werewolves, dragons, time travelers, dangerous alphas, seductive handymen and next-door neighbors with smoldering good looks all vie for her attention. It’s a tough life, but someone’s got to live it.
Follow her on Twitter, @njwaltersauthor, and on Facebook at www.Facebook.com/N.J.WaltersAuthor. Write to N.J. at [email protected] or check out her online home at www.njwalters.com.
Introducing the Carina Press Romance Promise!
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Alpha’s Revenge Page 15