Shadow Sworn (Copper Falls Book 2)

by Colleen Vanderlinden

  “So, what? Is this one of those stories where the girl you wanted never gave you a second look, so you became a stalker freak in response?” Sophie asked.

  He stepped toward her, towering over her, and she refused to step back.

  “You’ve grown a backbone. I like it. This is what Shadow does. And for the record, she was mine for most of her life, and she loved every minute of it.”

  “Oh. Right. So are we supposed to be having our Darth Vader moment now?” She cocked her head, looked up at him. “Is that what this is?”

  “What in the hell are you talking about?”

  “Is this the part where you tell me you’re my great great grandfather or something? And then I’m supposed to scream my denial and swear I’ll never be like you?”

  He sneered. “You are ridiculous. I said she was mine. I never said she gave me children. She was married to some other fool.” And then he gave her that cold smile again, the one that had chilled her since the first time she’d seen it. “No, no grandfatherly feelings here for you.”

  Sophie didn’t answer.

  “Migisi was pretty. She was strong as hell. And when I finally pushed her over the edge, the chaos she caused was beautiful. But she always lacked something. You, though… you’re the first that reminds me of her.” He raised his hand and traced a fingertip down her jawline.

  Sophie swallowed, tried to keep her breathing calm, steady. She flinched back. Him touching her was about as pleasurable as being swarmed by maggots. She wished she’d never stopped the car, wished she was home with Calder.

  Marshall dropped his hand back to his side and laughed. “You don’t get it yet. You stopped here because I wanted you to. Part of you knows that. My power over you is a glorious thing. I could have you bent over and begging me with nothing more than a thought.”

  Sophie wanted to argue, but she wasn’t feeling brave enough to test him on that. Part of her feared he was right.

  “Smart girl,” he muttered. “Though I would have enjoyed proving myself.”

  “So, what? You want a replacement for her? Is that why you’ve been… the way you‘ve been?” she asked, looking down.

  “If you ever wanted to warm my bed, I’d take you in a second, and I’d make it worth your while. That’s not why I started hanging around though. That part came later,” he added, looking her up and down. “I made her a promise, that her descendants wouldn’t suffer as she did, unable to unleash their power, suffocating under it. She came to love her power in the time we were together. And I made her a promise, that I would keep her line pure. Shadow. And at some point, one of you dumb bitches went and fucked a powerful Light warlock and had kids. And then another did the same thing. And that screwed everything up. I don’t have their influence out of your bloodline, especially the second one, but I’m working on it. I’m so close now. You were a surprise,” he said.

  “I am Light,” she said, raising her chin.

  He laughed. “Keep deluding yourself. About this and about a million other things.”

  “I’m not the delusional one here,” she said.

  He smirked again. “You’re the one who believes that bear you’re fucking will be there through all the shit you’re going to put him through. You really think he won’t get sick of you? That he won’t get tired of holding your hand all the time, of trying to keep you satisfied? You really think he means it when he promises you forever? He will resent you and everything you are.” His voice was a low hiss, the words he said so perfectly echoing her own fears that she could do nothing to dispute them.

  Sophie clamped her mouth shut.

  “You know he will. And when he’s gone, when he decides he’s had enough, I’ll be here. And you’ll know where you belong.”

  “You are insane. Even if I believe what you’re saying, even if she… what was her name?”

  “Micaela,” he answered, and the longing in those four syllables twisted something inside Sophie.

  “I’m not her,” she said.

  Marshall closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them again. “I know you’re not. You could never hope to be. But you’re as close as I’m going to get, and I’m getting really fucking good at pretending.”

  She turned toward the road, started stalking back to her car.

  “Run. Just know that the second I want you back at my side, you’ll be there, whether you want to be or not.” She’d already reached her car, but his words followed her, sliding over and around her in a way that made her feel filthy just for having heard them, for allowing herself to be in his presence.

  She started her engine and hit the gas, wanting nothing more than her house and her land, even if it no longer protected her the way it once had. Calder.

  “Must learn control,” she muttered to herself. She could not allow herself to become Marshall’s puppet, Marshall’s plaything. Not a chance in hell.

  She would start by not letting Calder see how freaked out she was. That only made him worry, made him want to take care of her. She didn’t want that, no matter how much she’d come to depend on it, no matter how easily she’d let him start doing it. She’d always stood on her own two feet, and she was going to keep on doing it. In the few miles until she got home, she forced herself to breathe normally, to numb out the fear, the anger, the unease she felt at Marshall’s appearance.

  She pulled into her driveway, glanced across the road. The lights in Calder’s big white farmhouse were on, the living room and kitchen windows glowing warmly. Bryce’s ugly blue car still sat in the driveway, though it was looking much less ugly than it had. She knew Calder planned to repaint the vintage monster soon, and she had no doubt it would look a lot better.

  She ducked into her house, jumped into the shower, then slipped into clean clothes. The simple act of coming home from work and changing centered her. It was so normal. She’d started to forget what normal feel like.

  Once she’d changed into some yoga pants and a top, she pulled her hair up and headed over to Calder’s.

  Her stomach growled, and her thirst was overwhelming.

  Sophie closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Control,” she whispered to herself. She could be starving. She could be out of her mind with all of the things she needed. But she couldn’t let herself be controlled by it. She had to at least try, or she would end up Marshall’s toy, or worse.

  Chapter Three

  As soon as her left foot hit the bottom step of Calder’s front porch, the front door opened, and there he was, backlit, the warm light from the living room bathing his flannel-clad shoulders, picking up the golden ends of his hair, the ones that curled up under the bottom of his baseball hat when he worked. For just a moment, all Sophie could do was stare at him

  Calder smiled. “What?” he asked with a laugh.

  She smiled and shook her head. “I love you. Do you have any idea how much?”

  His gaze softened, warmed even more. “Back atcha, Sophie.”

  She climbed the last few steps, reached him, and put her arms around his waist. She rested her face against his chest, breathing him in, letting the scent, the feel of him bring her back from the slimy sensations Marshall raised in her.

  “How was it?” he asked softly, resting his chin on the top of her head.

  “It was okay. I nearly bashed in the front of the vending machine a few times, but I held it together.”

  Calder let out a short laugh. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. They had Cool Ranch Doritos in there. It was almost too much to take,” she said, and he laughed again. They stood there for a few minutes, and she felt the tension and fear flow from her.

  “What do you want first? Me or dinner?” Calder finally asked.

  “Is there any doubt which one I’d want more?” Sophie asked, grinning up at him.

  “I made cheese lasagna,” he told her.

  “We can have it in a bit,” she said, taking his hand and leading him into the house.

  Later, she lay in Calder’s arms, sweat
y, exhausted, her body sore in the best way.

  “You’re going to get tired of this eventually,” she said, hating that she remembered Marshall’s words at a time like this.

  Calder moved his hand from her hip to her chest, gently squeezing a breast, and she gasped. “Clearly you have no idea how the male mind works. Or at least how this male’s mind works,” he amended. “I don’t think that’s something you need to worry about.”

  “What about the rest of it?”

  He sighed, rubbed his thumb across her nipple lazily, stirring her body anew. “You’ve got to stop this, Sophie. If I get sick of any part of us, I’ll let you know and we’ll work it out. I don’t see that happening, though, and I don’t even think about it unless you bring it up.”

  They lay in silence, Sophie cocooned, curled next to Calder’s big body, his fingers lazily rubbing, tweaking, pinching her aching breasts.

  “That warlock freak was around you today, wasn’t he?” he finally asked. “I can smell him on you.”

  She nodded.

  “What did he want?”

  “To make a point,” she said. He tweaked her nipple, and she let out a loud gasp.

  “Which was?” he growled.

  “That I’ll come when he summons me, whether I want to or not,” she said.

  “Did he touch you?” Calder asked, and she shook her head.

  “No. He didn’t. And I would have fought him off if he tried.”

  “He forced you out to meet him,” Calder said, and after a moment, she nodded. “He could force more.”

  “I won’t let him,” she said.

  “I think I should talk to him,” Calder said again, the growl in his voice both terrifying and alluring. She knew this part. He was possessive, and the control Marshall had over her, which he hadn’t bothered to prove until that day, made Calder want blood. It made him want to protect her, keep her, make it clear who she belonged to.

  He gave her breast one more firm squeeze, then stood up. She turned and watched him as he pulled on his jeans and a t-shirt.

  “You know you can’t. He would kill you without a thought, Calder,” Sophie said.

  “You really think that little of me? That I can’t defend myself against a warlock?” he asked her. She stood up and pulled on one of his t-shirts.

  “It’s not that and you know it. I know you’re strong. I know you can fight. I don’t doubt you. But he would play dirty. He’s the kind to hit from behind, except it’s magic, not fists. You can’t really fight someone who has no intention of fighting,” she finished irritably. “And do you know what I really don’t need right now? For you to go off on some stupid macho… thing because you feel like you have something to prove.”

  He crossed his arms, gaze boring into hers from across the room. She kept her gaze on his, knowing he was still in that half-animal mode, the one she was beginning to recognize as all shifter. Looking down or away, which was what she was most comfortable doing during a confrontation, would not do when he was like this. So she kept her eyes on his, and finally he took a breath and shook his head.

  “You’re right,” he finally said.

  “I know,” she said, and he laughed.

  “I still would love to kick his ass, though.”

  “I know. And I know that, if you took his stupid magic out of the equation, if you made it impossible for him to play dirty, you would wipe the floor with him. You probably would anyway. But I don’t want to find out,” she said.

  He nodded. “I know. I’m sorry for being an asshole.”

  “A stupid macho asshole,” she corrected, and he laughed again. “And wasn’t there something about lasagna earlier?”

  He shook his head and held out his hand, and they walked downstairs to the kitchen together. He reheated the lasagna, and they sat at the round table in his kitchen.

  The urge to shovel the warm, cheesy bit of heaven into her mouth as quickly as she could was almost impossible to ignore. But she forced herself, thinking “control” over and over again, making sure she put her fork down between bites. It was like all of those stupid little tips she’d ever read for how to eat less when you are on a diet, except that everything felt about a million times harder.

  “Bryce and I cut down those dead pines behind your house today,” Calder said. “You’ll have a good amount of firewood.”

  Sophie nodded. “Thanks.” She couldn’t say more. The trees were another sign of the blight the Shadow was causing. Everything around her either died or weakened. She wondered why, thankfully, that hadn’t been true of Calder. She kept an eye on him, watching, waiting for signs of sickness or anything else wrong. What she would do if she saw them, she had no idea. But she watched and waited, just as she watched and waited for signs he was becoming fed up. So far, there had been neither.

  Then again, it had only been a little over a month.

  “You’ll have plenty of wood to split,” Calder said, and she nodded, remembering him splitting wood like a madman in an effort to keep the madness at bay. “But if that doesn’t do it for you, I’ll do it. I still find it kind of relaxing.” He took another bite of lasagna, and she watched him as he ate.

  God, he was gorgeous, she thought to herself. That wavy blond hair, those icy blue eyes. Broad shoulders and muscles for days, and the way his mouth quirked up at the corner, just a little, when he was amused. The smell of him…she gave her head a tiny shake, and took another bite of her dinner. Control.

  “Bryce is gonna pop the question,” Calder said, putting his fork down, his plate clear.

  Sophie’s mouth dropped open in shock. “He is?” Bryce and her best friend, Layla, had been nuts about one another for most of their lives, but had only recently made it to the point of admitting to one another what everyone else already knew.

  Calder grinned. “You can’t say anything, though. He’s still kinda freaked out by it all.”

  Sophie laughed. “Well, the boy moves fast, I’ll give him that.”

  “If you consider twenty-plus years fast, then sure,” Calder said with a laugh.

  Sophie pushed her plate away and rested her elbows on the table, her chin in her hands. “I’m so happy for them. Layla’s in heaven.”

  “So’s Bryce,” Calder said. “You know what, though?”

  “What?”

  “As happy as I am for them, I’ve even happier for us.” His face was serious, his eyes on hers. “This was a long time coming, and it’s better than I ever could have imagined. And I could imagine a hell of a lot.”

  She reached across the table and took his hand in hers. “Same here. I can’t believe we’re finally here together.”

  “All we need is you and me, Sophie,” Calder said, gently stroking her wrist with his thumb. “We have those two things, and we have everything.”

  She smiled, and squeezed his hand, and felt Shadow rise up inside her, as if reminding her that it was there.

  As if she could ever forget it.

  After they did the dinner dishes together, they’d made their way up to Calder’s bedroom, and he’d loved her in the way only he could, tirelessly, thoroughly, bringing her to the edge of sanity over and over again until she was limp and exhausted in his arms. She was lying beside him, his body wrapped around hers, his hands each cupping a breast as he quietly snored behind her. The only other sounds were the occasional “hoot” of an owl in the woods nearby and the ticking of the old grandfather clock in the hallway. She lay there, and lazily replayed their lovemaking in her mind. He was never rough with her, though he’d finally, after bringing her to the edge with his mouth and fingers so many times she’d lost count, taken her hard and fast, knowing it was what she needed. The memory of it, of the look in his eyes as he’d thrusted into her, along with the glorious ache between her thighs, the feel of his warm, strong hands on her breasts had her shivering in a combination of need and pleasure.

  She had to stop thinking about it, or she would be out of her mind with need for him again.

  S
he slowly, gently extricated her body from his embrace, then looked down at him and watched him sleep for a few moments. The fact that he hadn’t woken made her grin. To say that Calder was a deep sleeper was an understatement. Working, running as his bear, doing all of the miscellaneous things he did around both of their houses while she was busy with work and other things, and then loving her as enthusiastically as he always did all made for a sound night’s sleep. Still, she sometimes woke in the night to find him awake, and when she asked him what he was doing up, he usually told her he was double-checking the locks or making sure they’d blown the candles out. She guessed that was anxiety, that desire, maybe, to control the small things because the big things seemed too insane.

  She slipped into his t-shirt, then quietly headed down the stairs to the living room. She clicked on the lamp next to the ugly brown recliner he liked to kick back in when he was watching baseball, and she grabbed the canvas backpack she’d been lugging around with her, the one carrying Migisi’s journals as well as the file folders of copies her friend Thea had made for her from her archives as they’d tried to trace Migisi and Luc’s story.

  She’d been through all of it, of course. She always let her eyes skim over Migisi’s instructions for how to truly break the curse, by destroying the one she loved.

  Migisi was nuts. What the hell did she know, anyway, Sophie thought to herself.

  It wasn’t the words that drew Sophie’s attention anymore. Those, she had memorized. It was Migisi’s artwork, the sketches and watercolors scattered throughout two of the journals that held her interest. Of course, there were those early ones, the ones Migisi had done of the falls and of Luc in his bear form, the dead woods and moonlight. In the past month, Sophie had made her way through the rest of the thick journal. While most of the writing had been messy, sometimes indecipherable, it mostly focused on Migisi learning about using her Shadow powers.