Chasing Shadows (A Shadow Chronicles Novel)

by Christina Moore

  *****

  I was startled awake by the sound of barking. Not even aware of having fallen asleep, I sat up and rubbed my eyes. It was dark in the room, either late at night or early in the morning. Moe and Cissy were on the bed with me, standing on Mark’s legs and barking at him.

  It was then that I realized that I was feeling something different from him. Instead of the hollow emptiness I’d been feeling since the moment he had been stabbed, I now could feel a slight…well, buzzing is the only way I could think of to describe it. As I turned sharply to look down at Mark, I thought of a light bulb with its filament sparking, trying to come to life so that it could bring light to a room. Though I tried to quell it for fear of being disappointed, I felt hope ignite within me as I tentatively laid my hand on his chest, over the scar that now marred its perfect lines.

  And then suddenly he took a loud, gasping breath.

  “Mark!” I shouted, turning now so that I was kneeling beside him on the bed. I picked his hand up with my free one and held it over my heart, keeping the other over his as his heart began to beat, slowly at first and then steadily gaining rhythm. His breathing was shaky, but he was breathing, and feeling the movement of air through his lungs brought tears of joy to my eyes.

  “Come on baby, open your eyes,” I encouraged him softly. “Look at me, Mark. It’s Saphrona, honey, I’m right here. I’ve been with you this whole time. Open your eyes and look at me, please!”

  Slowly, painstakingly, his eyes opened, and he looked up at me with the faintest of smiles.

  “Hey,” he said, his voice hoarse and weak. “I know you.”

  “I know you, too,” I said with a laugh, then bent over to press my lips lightly to his.

  “I had…the worst dream. At least…I think it was a dream,” Mark said. “I died, and you were begging me…to come back to you. And I was trying…but every time I got close…I would see this hand …coming at me with a knife in it.”

  “Oh, sweetheart,” I said. “I’m afraid it wasn’t entirely a dream. Evangeline stabbed you in the heart, and you died. I couldn’t feel your life force anymore.”

  “What?”

  I blinked, wiping away the tears that had fallen. “I don’t know how to describe it. I didn’t even know it until it was gone, that I could feel your life force through the bond. When you…when you died, I felt so empty, so alone. All I could think about was that if you didn’t come back to me, I was going to have to die too, so that I could be with you again. I thought God was punishing me for being part vampire—I thought so many crazy things. And then, just now, I felt you coming back to life. I don’t know how, but I felt it. And now you’re here with me again, and oh, God, I love you!”

  I laid myself across his chest, just holding him, reveling in the steady rise and fall of his diaphragm. Though he was no doubt very weak, Mark nonetheless raised his arms and brought them around me. “I’m sure God loves you, too, but what about me?” he joked lightly.

  I sat up, giving him the lightest of swats on the arm. “You know darn well who I was talking to, mister. If you hadn’t just come back, I’d be only too happy to show you how much I love you. And I do thank God that you’re back, that we’re together again. Oh, just wait until I tell Juliette and Monica and Lochlan!”

  “Speaking of, what did happen, Saphrona? Tell me everything.”

  I opened my mouth to tell him the horrific tale, but before I could speak, the door opened and Lochlan appeared. A smile immediately formed on his lips as he took in the scene before him.

  “Bless the Almighty!” he said warmly, walking across the carpet to stand at the side of the bed. “Thank goodness the reanimation story was also true, brother, and that you’ve come back to us. I daresay if you had not, our Saphrona would have followed you before long.”

  Mark’s eyes showed his alarm as he heard this. “Saphrona, no!”

  I looked down with a sad smile. “Sweetheart, we told you that could happen. That it probably would. Our histories tell us that once a vampire has bonded to someone, they find living without that person utterly unbearable. And it was unbearable, Mark—I couldn’t think about anything but you and how much it hurt to be without you. I couldn’t eat. I could barely sleep because I was afraid I would miss you waking up. In fact, I almost did miss it—it was Moe and Cissy here who alerted me to the change. Somehow they knew it before you’d even breathed.”

  He took my hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the palm as he looked up at me. “I am sorry to have put you through that,” he said.

  “Not your fault, brother,” Lochlan said bitterly. “Evangeline is the one to blame. She nearly did us all in.”

  “That reminds me,” Mark said. “How’s my sister? Where’s Juliette? What happened?”

  Lochlan and I exchanged a glance, and after Loch told him that Juliette was sound asleep in a room down the hall, I began to tell him everything that had occurred as I knew it. I tried leaving my emotions out of it, because I didn’t want to think anymore about what Evangeline had done. Where my voice trailed off and I faltered, Lochlan would fill in. Mark’s expression shifted several times, showing concern, outrage, and horror. When we got to the part in the story about witnessing Juliette’s rape, he said he almost wished we had left one of them alive, just so he could kill him and exact some vengeance on his sister’s behalf.

  “Don’t worry about that, Mark,” Lochlan said, a ghost of a smile returning. “She got the last laugh in the end—she’s the one who threw the match that sent those bastards to Hell.”

  As if just remembering why he had come, Lochlan then told me that Diarmid had woken just about half an hour before Mark. “I’ve been keeping him supplied with blood, or I’d have come when I first heard you shout,” he said. “For that matter, I’m surprised Juliette didn’t hear you.”

  “What about Monica?” I asked.

  Mark blinked. “My mother was here?”

  I nodded. “She wanted to have a look at Juliette, of course, even though your sister called her to help with you—not that there was much could be done.”

  “Monica went home last night. Charming woman, your stepmother,” Lochlan said, looking at Mark. “She still doesn’t quite trust me due to the whole natural enemies bit, but we have a truce.”

  He put a hand on my shoulder. “Speaking of parents, Saphrona, our father would like to have a word with you. And now that your man is with us once again, surely you can spare a few minutes of your time.”

  “Will it be safe for her?” Mark asked. “Didn’t you guys say a vampire is at his most dangerous when he’s waking from regeneration?”

  Lochlan nodded. “Aye. He may be a bit restless from being dead for three days, but he’s had a few pints of O-neg and A-pos, and he has more blood on hand so he’s rather set for a while. No need to worry brother, Saphrona will be fine.”

  I hesitated. Yes, Mark was awake, but I’d already missed three days with him—I didn’t want to miss another minute. At the same time, Diarmid had tried to help me, even if his efforts had amounted to very little. I supposed I owed it to him to hear him out. Reluctantly I nodded, and then I leaned down and gave Mark another kiss.

  As I was easing myself off the bed, Lochlan turned to me, saying, “I’m going to check his vitals so I can give you an estimate on when he’ll be healthy enough for sexual activity—I know you can’t wait to start going at it again like rabbits.”

  I smothered a laugh as I punched him in the arm and walked out, padding down three doors to my father’s room. I knocked softly, pushing the door open when he bid me entrance.

  “Mida, darling, do come in,” Diarmid said from his place in the middle of his massive, king-sized bed. I noticed he had an I.V. in one arm and a second bag of blood in his hand, which he sipped from as if it were a pouch of Capri Sun.

  “How are you?” I asked in an effort to be polite

  He smiled. “Better than I was,” he told me. “That damn bullet left a scar. How is Mark, darling? How are you?”r />
  The corner of my mouth quirked up. “That damn knife left a scar on Mark, and I’m doing a hell of a lot better now that he’s come back.”

  “I thought I heard you shout. He is well then?”

  I nodded. “The dogs actually woke me up. They knew something was happening before I did.”

  “Animals have always been very sensitive to the supernatural,” Diarmid mused. “And though I know your heart is healing with Mark’s return from the dead, I hope you will forgive me for saying that you look rather tired.”

  “I haven’t slept much these last few days because I didn’t want to miss it if Mark woke up. I haven’t eaten anything, either.”

  He glanced at the blood in his hand. “I would offer you some, darling, but I know you’ve given up human blood. Still, I don’t like to see you looking so unwell, so please do eat something soon.”

  Oddly, I found myself feeling touched at his concern and I tried vainly to shake that feeling off. To regain control of the conversation I cleared my throat and said, “I take it Lochlan told you what happened?”

  Diarmid’s expression fell and he nodded. “He did. I am very sorry about Evangeline. I had no idea she was so disturbed. If only I could have seen it sooner, or perhaps shown her my love more often, I might have prevented all of this.”

  “I don’t think loving her more would have made her hate me less,” I said. “I don’t think it would have mattered how much you loved her if you still loved me.”

  He sighed. “I suppose you are right. Yet I cannot help feeling that I am to blame. You could have lost your bondmate, and had you I would have lost two daughters instead of one. I am thankful that Mark has regenerated, for I did wonder if that part of the legend was true also.”

  I chanced a smile. “I’m thankful too. For Mark…and for you.”

  When he looked up with surprise, I said, “You said you wouldn’t turn me in for being Vivian Drake, you were going with me when I realized that Evangeline was behind the attacks, and you were going to lead us to the basement to confront her. Had Martin not shot you when he did, I have no doubt you would have helped us deal with her and her puppets.”

  Diarmid nodded. “I would have. From what Lochlan has told me, she really was quite mad. Again, I am sorry for the suffering she caused you. All of it.”

  He looked down once more at the blood in his hands and, heaving another sigh, he said, “You do not believe me, Mida, but I am also sorry for the suffering I have caused you. I have been sorry for a very long time. I have tried to explain it to you many times before, but you would not let me.”

  “I really don’t want to get into this again,” I said. “I don’t want to argue with you. Not today.

  My father looked up at me. “Then hear me out, please. If only once more.”

  I sighed myself then, and steeled myself for yet another of the explanations that I had always felt were worthless. “Fine. Go ahead.”

  He nodded, and said, “It is true that I once did not care about your mother as I should have. It is true that I should have saved her, and I did not. I regret that I was so callous and cruel to have denied you the mother you deserved.”

  “Why do you regret it though? Is it because you damn well should, or because learning of it drove your favorite child away from you?” I asked harshly.

  “Both,” he replied. “Losing your love and respect have served to show me how foolish I was. As you know, I have tried ever since to make amends.”

  “You tried in all the wrong ways. Lavish gifts and constant badgering are hardly conducive to forgiveness.”

  Diarmid smiled ruefully. “I know that now, and I suppose I ought apologize for those actions as well. Mida, I know I can never truly make amends for not saving your mother, and I know that you have not needed a father for a very long time, but I am hoping that one day your heart will soften enough toward me that we can be friends. You are my only daughter now, and I do not wish to lose you any more than I already have.”

  I thought about that for a long moment, then nodded slowly before turning to the door and preparing to leave. Looking back at him over my shoulder I said, “I cannot make you any promises about forgiveness. It takes time, and I have hated you for many years.”

  His expression became crestfallen, but he nodded. “I understand.”

  “You should know this, Father, and remember it well: Even if I do forgive you, I’m never going to forget.”

  *****

  Back in Mark’s room, I found him alone, sitting up in bed. Neither Lochlan nor my dogs were anywhere in sight.

  “Where are Moe and Cissy?” I asked as I shut the door behind. “Where’s Loch?”

  “He took the dogs outside,” Mark said, smiling as he patted the spot next to him on the bed. “Come on over here and join me.”

  I grinned as I lifted the bedcovers and climbed underneath. “You’re looking awfully chipper,” I said. “Did you eat already? What did Lochlan give you, steak?”

  “No, I haven’t eaten anything, though steak does sound awesome. I want it with a fully loaded baked potato and an ice cold two-liter of Mt. Dew. Please,” he added, leaning over for a kiss.

  I giggled and met him halfway. Mark’s hand came to hold my head at the nape, and as his tongue probed my mouth, a smoldering fire began to burn in my veins.

  Pushing him back, I said, “Mark, we can’t. It’s too soon—you just woke up for goodness’ sake.”

  He grinned and took my hand, drawing it under the blanket to his lap, which I discovered was covered only by the blanket. “Lochlan said I’m pretty damn healthy for a man who was dead for three days. He recommends food, liquids, exercise and bed rest, not necessarily in that order.”

  “Mark, I love you, and believe me, I want to,” I said slowly. “But I don’t want to hurt you when I just got you back.”

  “Baby, I love you, too. But I already feel like I’ve missed too much, that I’ve got a lot of lost time to make up for. And Loch did say exercise—if you can do slow and easy then so can I,” he replied.

  I jumped out of the bed long enough to send my clothes flying, then climbed back into it and snuggled next to him.

  “Okay. Slow and easy it is.”

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  Epilogue

  He waited until it was late before he sat at his computer and accessed a certain encrypted file. After keying in the decryption sequence, he set to work continuing the record he’d been keeping for the last five years.

  Saphrona and Mark returned to the farm today. Although she has not told me the truth of why she was really gone for the last three days, she does not need to. Not only has the wyvern already done so (as recorded in my last entry), but I can see on Saphrona’s face that she has been through hell. Thank God for reanimation—had immortal humans not also been granted that capability, I have no doubt that these words would be very different… and my last in this history.

  When I talked to her, Saphrona told me that her father was paying for a new barn, and that by Saturday, her animals would no longer be a burden to me. I told her that while I was worried during her absence, I had no doubt she would return, and reminded her that I was happy to help her out. The excuse she gave me for being gone was that her sister had passed from an undiagnosed heart condition, and I played my part by offering my condolences for her loss—though I can’t help wishing I could have told her that bitch Evangeline got what she deserved.

  Forgive me. This is meant to be a historical record of Saphrona’s life, not a diary of my feelings on her sister’s insanity.

  With Evangeline dead and Mark recovered, Saphrona will be able to rebuild her life and move on. And of course, I will be here to record the major events of that life for as long as she remains close by.

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  Other works by Christina Moore:

  The Beauty in the Black Room

  (Available in the Darkest Desires anthology by Hot Ink Press)

  *****

  Now, turn the page for an exce
rpt from the second novel in the Shadow Chronicles, From the Shadows, available soon from Black Room Press.

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  Prologue

  “Are you absolutely certain this is what you want to do?”

  Though I continued to look straight ahead, I nonetheless offered the man next to me a weak smile. “I see no reason not to,” I said after a moment’s contemplation.

  My companion scoffed. “Well I can think of several,” he replied tartly, his Irish accent thickening with each word. “Do your Mum and Dad, or the names Mark and Saphrona, ring a bloody bell?”

  It was the same argument he’d given me three days ago when I’d first come to him with my plan. “What, not adding your name to the list this time?” I countered, pointing out that he’d left his own off the list when he typically added it after Saphrona’s.

  “Far be it for me to state the obvious,” he snapped.

  I sighed, turning my head to take in his angry, hurt-filled gaze at last. “Lochlan, we’ve been over this. I need to go. I need to get away from it all for a while. I need time and space to clear my head.”

  “Running away is not the answer, Juliette.”

  “I’m not running away. I’m…taking a sabbatical.”

  Lochlan made a sound that sounded very much like a growl low in his throat. “Why the hell did you ask me for help, hmm?” he queried. “I thought you didn’t like me.”

  I shook my head and reached for the door handle. “That’s what you get for thinking,” I replied softly, pulling the handle and pushing the door open to climb out. Before I’d even stood straight, my vampire driver was out from behind the wheel and blocking my way. With a sigh, I looked up slowly to face him.