Shadow's Passion: The Shadow Warder Series: Prequel Novella

by Molle McGregor

  "No. It wasn't a secret. But he was still in training."

  "Then why did they send you away?" Her face twisted in pain. Gabe felt it like a stab to his gut. He hated this. Hated hurting her. But he had to be sure there wasn't more to it. Had to know how thoroughly she'd been cast out. And if she was telling it all, she should see that she wasn't at fault. He'd always thought Shadows were sensitive and kind. It sounded like they could be as uncompromising and hard as the Warders.

  "The mother of the child lost herself. She couldn't bear to see me. She said I was dangerous. Another fatal accident waiting to happen. She got so bad, the Keepers felt it was best for me to leave for a time." She sipped her coffee, visibly trying to get her emotions under control. Shoulders slumped, her body curling in on herself.

  "You've never gone back?"

  "No."

  "And you can't leave here?"

  "I can and I can't. I have a Jeep. An old decommissioned Army Jeep. No electronics. But I can't pump my own gas. There's a Shadow in Asheville who brings me groceries and shops for me. She also delivers the jams I make for sale and brings me gas for the Jeep. But even when I have gas, I don't really have anywhere to go."

  Her statement was so sad, Gabe's heart squeezed in his chest. She acted as if being rejected by the Shadows was no big deal. The idea that this lovely, gracious, sexy woman had been shunted aside and mostly forgotten by her own people infuriated him. It wasn't his business, Gabe reminded himself. He had his own problems that had nothing to do with the Shadows and their internal issues.

  A ding sounded in the kitchen. Celeste got up from the table and took the pot of boiling water and potatoes off the stove. She turned on the flame under a cast iron skillet. He realized both the stove and refrigerator must run on propane. Clever.

  "You don't sound angry," he said. "Why haven't you gone home? It's been fifty years. The mother should be over it by now."

  "No. I don't think she is. I don't think you get over that kind of loss," Celeste said.

  Gabe shocked himself by saying, "It's not fair."

  Celeste laughed, a resigned, empty sound so different from her earlier giggle, he wished he'd never heard it. "No, it's not. It's supremely unfair," she said. Finally, he heard a thread of anger in her voice. "You're right, I didn't do anything wrong. And I'm being punished for it. But there's nothing to be done and no point in dwelling on it."

  "How often do you get supplies delivered?" he asked. Understanding wiped the melancholy from Celeste's face. Her shoulders straightened as she mashed potatoes with more vigor.

  "Once a month. I have friends who visit when they can." She noticed him eyeing the milk she was pouring into the potatoes. "I trade with the family in the next holler for fresh milk, eggs and meat. In return I act as their doctor when they need one. I last saw them a few days ago. No one should be coming here for the next week. We're alone."

  Gabe hid the swell of satisfaction he felt at that statement. Completely alone with the beautiful Shadow. His mission came first. No question. And Gabe wasn't sure he trusted her. Doubted he could talk her into bed. But that didn't mean he wasn't going to try.

  Chapter Four

  For the next few minutes, Gabe sat in silence, watching Celeste cook dinner as he evaluated the situation. No interruptions. No real danger of being spotted by anyone who shouldn't know a Warder was holed up with a Shadow. Celeste knew these mountains. That was clear from her confident navigation after the fight. They'd followed no apparent trail, yet she'd maintained an efficient course back to her tower. If Gabe was going to hunt the nest in these hills, he could use her cooperation.

  The weight of a plate hitting the table startled him out of his thoughts. He was getting too comfortable here, not alert enough. If the dinner she'd served was any indication of her skills in the kitchen, it would be hard not to get comfortable. He absorbed the sight of his dinner plate, his mouth watering. A thick chop, with a crisp herbed crust, lightly drizzled in golden sauce. It smelled like honey mustard. Fluffy white mashed potatoes and what looked like stewed greens completed the meal. Used to grabbing food on the go, it had been years since Gabe sat down to a meal like this. Celeste remained silent as he lifted his utensils and dug in. She let him take a bite before interrupting.

  "I've been more than forthright with you," she said. "In fact, I've told you far more than I should have told anyone, especially a Warder. I have a few questions of my own."

  "After we eat," he said. Her cooking was amazing. The meat melted in his mouth, the sauce a perfect balance of sweet wild honey and astringent mustard. He tasted fresh milk and creamy butter in the potatoes. Even the greens were good, soft and perfectly salted. He'd answer her questions, at least some of them. After they ate. Celeste gave another cute harrumph and turned her attention back to the meal. Wise woman. Patient woman. He'd have to be careful with her. The moment he set down his fork, she whisked his plate away.

  "Talk," she said. "I have homemade peanut butter cookies and I'm not telling you where they are until I have answers. I should have left you to bleed in the woods. What are you doing on my mountain?"

  "I'll get cookies if I talk?" Gabe shouldn't tease her. Any intimacy was a bad idea, even the casual intimacy of a joke. It was hard to resist. She stood there, demanding that he talk, her back straight, expression as firm as a schoolteacher's. Gabe could break her like a twig if he wanted to. Celeste had all but admitted that she didn't have the power to stop him. Still, he sensed no fear from her.

  "If I like what I hear, I'll give you a cookie." She refilled their coffee cups and sat back down at the table, waiting.

  "I got a call from one of our Directors telling me that there had been reports of Vorati activity in these mountains. I've been tracking them for the past week." He didn't mention that it was highly unusual to receive a personal phone call from a Director. Even for a Sicarius as old and accomplished as Gabe. Celeste watched him carefully. He understood she was weighing his words, trying to decide if he was being honest. He was, to a point. Gabe had no intention of lying to her if he didn't have to. He also wasn’t going to tell her the whole truth.

  "What are your plans now that you're here?"

  "Can you confirm that the Vorati are a nest, based somewhere in these mountains?" he asked.

  "If I'm right about what's happened, they infected a local family and took over their property. Have you seen this before? Nesting? Because I haven't. Not personally."

  "Its been happening more in the past few years," Gabe admitted. "There's been no formal acknowledgement by our Handlers or Directorate." His frustration leaked into his voice. Celeste nodded once.

  "As far as I understand it, our Keepers and Elders haven't acknowledged it either. I don't see much activity up here. But I have a friend who's a tracker and she says she's seeing it pop up here and there."

  "A tracker?" Gabe knew little about Shadows. What Warders learned at the Academy filled a day of instruction and one measly chapter in a textbook. It could be summarized by: useless, annoying, potentially dangerous. Stay away on pain of death. The End. He'd never heard of trackers.

  "A tracker. She hunts victims of Vorati infection. When she finds one, she assesses the level of infection. If it's terminal, she kills them. If she thinks they can be saved, she tags them for a healer to find."

  "I didn't think Shadows actively hunted," Gabe said, surprised. Nothing he'd ever heard indicated that the Shadows fought and killed Vorati. He'd assumed they hid in their Sanctuaries, thinking deep thoughts and letting the Warders carry the battle alone.

  "Not all of us. But our trackers are very good. Keeley says there's a rise in cooperation within the Vorati that's unprecedented. No one knows what to make of it, so it's being ignored as an anomaly. I've never heard of them taking an entire family."

  "What were you doing in the woods yesterday?" Gabe asked, a sudden suspicion tightening his gut.

  "I'm asking the questions right now."

  "Not until you answer this one. What were you
doing in that part of the woods yesterday?"

  Celeste raised her chin and looked away. Shit. He wasn't going to like her answer. He couldn't imagine that she might be helping them. But she'd known the host bodies. She was isolated up here. It was possible her judgment was compromised. If she thought she could save the victims by assisting them—he almost hoped that was it. The other reason she might have been skulking near the nest was too insane.

  "Celeste." Her eyes snapped to his, aggravation flaring, turning the blue to hot flame. An angry flush hit her cheekbones. Gabe left his seat, moving to her side of the table. She leaned back to meet his eyes.

  "What are your intentions here?" she challenged. His hand shot forward to grab her arm. Fingers like steel held her in a painless yet unbreakable grip.

  "What were you doing near their nest this afternoon?" Using his hold on her arm as leverage, Gabe pulled Celeste to her feet. Fitz moved to stand beside his mistress. The immense Irish Wolfhound growled at him. Gabe swore he saw a glint of wounded betrayal in the dog's eyes. He ignored it. "You've admitted you know where they're nesting. So what the fuck were you doing so close to their base?"

  "Let go!" She yanked at her arm.

  Gabe tightened his hand, ignoring Fitz's warning bark. Everything rode on her answer. If she was colluding with the Vorati, he had to know. If she wasn't what she seemed, he might have to kill her along with the nest. And he needed to find out now, before he told her any more. Warders couldn't work energy with the innate skill of a Shadow, couldn't read emotion or see an aura, but he could feel a lie. Especially when he touched her. In another lightning move, his other hand whipped out to grab her free arm. Captive, her glare chilled into sharp, blue icicles. Fitz's barking increased. Gabe saw his legs bunch to leap.

  "Tell me what you were doing there," he roared, unable to keep his temper calm. "Tell me the truth."

  "I was hunting them," Celeste screamed, yanking back at his hold on her arms. No lie. He released her in shock. She stumbled back a few feet before continuing, "I've been hunting them since I realized they'd taken the family that lived over there. Infected them one by one. I haven't been on their property. I never traded with them. But I know the mountain. I've gotten four so far." She was obviously proud of herself.

  A wave of angry panic washed through Gabriel. "Are you insane?" His enraged voice filled the cabin. Celeste, who had been more furious than afraid of him, paled and backed away. Fitz circled her, whining his unease.

  "I'm trained to fight," she protested, her anger draining as his swelled.

  "By who, the Boy Scouts? You're like an eight-year-old taking her first karate class who thinks she can beat up the school bully. The only reason you're still alive is that they obviously have a purpose here other than capturing you."

  "I am not a child. I am not helpless." Celeste held her ground, glaring at him. "I am not a victim."

  "You will be," he said grimly. "At least one of them got away. Now they know there's a Shadow up here. They'll be after you." She looked away. Celeste was smart enough to have figured that out on her own. The tightness in his chest eased. She wouldn't send him away. Without him, she'd be a sitting duck for the Vorati. He didn't want her to tag along while he took out the nest, but it wasn't the worst of the available options.

  "I'm defending my home," she said, her chin thrust forward, stubbornness all over her face. How could he be so pissed at her and still find her adorable? It might have been funny if the warm hum of her body didn't echo in his hands, if the idea of her fighting the demons on her own didn't fill him with icy fear.

  Forcing himself to gentle his tone, he said, "Do you understand what they would do to you if they caught you, Celeste?"

  "Of course."

  "No, I don't think you do. If you want to commit suicide, I'll give you a gun. It would be much, much more pleasant."

  "I'm not trying to kill myself," she said, looking away.

  That wasn't encouraging. Gabe wasn't touching her, but he was pretty sure that wouldn't have felt like the full truth. She'd been shut away on this lonely mountaintop for decades. What was it doing to her? He believed she wasn't actively seeking death, but going after the Vorati nest was close enough to make him uneasy.

  "Celeste, they won't kill you. Not for a long time. They'd feed from you. The Vorati feed from pain, terror—"

  "I know what they are," she snapped.

  He made a slicing motion with his hand. "You can't. Not if you're hunting them alone. Shut up and listen to me."

  She pressed her lips together and waited, looking like a mutinous teenager. The expression was so incongruous on her elegant face, it would have made him laugh in other circumstances. Instead he fought the urge to shake her again.

  "They'll keep you prisoner," he said. "Tie you down to make it easier to rape you. And they won't let you up. Ever. They won't care if you piss and shit all over yourself. Soon enough you'll be covered with dried blood and cum anyway. The more they can degrade you, the better you'll feed them.

  Celeste’s childish, sullen expression faded, her cheeks drained of blood. Gabe was sure she knew what the Vorati could do, would have learned as a child how they fed from their prey. But he doubted she’d ever seen a living creature broken by Vorati torture.

  "They'll hurt you every way they can imagine. Rape would only be the beginning. I've seen victims sliced into just enough pieces to keep them from dying. Choked half to death. Electrocuted, drowned, beaten. Locked up with rats. Spiders. Whatever flips your switch, they'll find it and use it on you. Over and over. And you're a Shadow. You'll last so much longer than a human. They grind their victims up until the mind cracks and they can suck out the last pieces of the soul. Think how long that will take for a Shadow. They'll squeeze you dry until you beg for death. And you know what? They'll work hard to keep you alive. Far harder than you are. They'll keep you alive forever."

  Gabe stared at her. She was trembling, her skin dead white. He hadn't told her half of what he'd seen the Vorati do. The victims he'd rescued rarely made it back to the world in one piece. Their bodies might heal, but their minds? Gone. Ravaged by unending terror and pain. He wished he'd been exaggerating in his description to Celeste. If anything, he'd been holding back. If she thought being alone on this mountain was difficult, the years she would last in the hands of the Vorati would make this isolation feel like a dream vacation.

  "I…I couldn't sit here while they took my people," she said, finally. "I don't want to die. I just couldn't do nothing."

  "Celeste," Gabe said. It seemed he'd gotten his point across. Now he was at a loss. Her shoulders slumped, her vitality diminished. It had been essential that he scare her. Not just so she'd realize she needed his help. The thought of Celeste ending up tortured by demons sent ice pumping through his veins. He shouldn't care. At least not beyond a general impulse to save any victim of the Vorati. But he had to admit, it was more than that. Only a few hours had passed since he'd first seen her facing down the demons and he already liked her. She was brave, if a little stupid with it. And kind. Fun to tease, with her odd combination of formal reserve and friendliness. The picture he got in his head when she said she was hunting the nest—her delicate frame strapped to a bed, soiled and abused, her vibrant eyes flat. It turned his gut.

  He should get the hell out and camp in the woods. Hunt them the old-fashioned way and leave her be. He told himself he was going to stay with Celeste because she could help him narrow down the location. Because it would be more comfortable than sleeping on the cold winter ground. That was mostly bullshit. In the back of his mind he hadn't stopped thinking about the way he'd felt when she'd healed him. That warm hum when she touched him. What would it be like if he got her naked? Her small body in his big, soldier's hands. It would break the most sacred of their laws. Gabe was breaking the law just by being in the same room with her. But the Directorate had been breaking those laws every day since Daniel had died. Gabe figured he was due.

  "Celeste," he repeated. "They
aren't going to take you."

  "No," she said. "They're not." Color was seeping back into her pale cheeks. With what Gabe realized was her typical resiliency, she pulled herself together. A flash of guilt hit him when she absently rubbed her arms where he'd grabbed her. "You can stay here while you hunt them. But you're not cutting me out. I see that going alone is foolish, but this is my home. I can help."

  "I know you can."

  "Fine." She nodded and headed to the doors beneath the staircase. Curious, he followed. Fitz trailed along, positioning himself between Gabe and his mistress. The big dog wasn't taking any chances with the visitor. Not anymore.

  Celeste opened the doors to reveal what Gabe assumed was an office. In the dim light, he made out a desk and a couch that probably pulled out into a bed. This room didn't fit the neat order of the rest of the tower. Every surface was lost beneath piles and piles of books. Bookcases lined the walls in the small, curved room, each shelf stuffed beyond reason. Hardbacks, paperbacks, magazines, packed together in no discernible order. The couch and desk were buried under their own stacks. Only one bookcase, fashioned with sliding glass doors, was remotely neat. The books inside were leather-bound and clothbound, some decorated with gilt work and a few plainly bound. Even from across the room, looking through the glass, Gabe could tell they were very old. Celeste turned to face him, the flush back on her cheeks. She looked from him to the couch and cleared her throat.

  "This is usually where guests stay. But I suppose it's gotten out of hand lately."

  "That's one way to put it," he said. "I'm guessing you like to read?"

  She laughed. "I love to read. Always have. Ever since I heard about electronic books, I've become a bit of a hoarder." Her fingertip trailed lovingly over a book at the top of the nearest stack. "Eventually, they'll stop making these."

  "Not for a long time," Gabe said, not at all sure if that was true. A long time meant something different to a them. But he wanted to give her a little comfort. This room was sad, as if Celeste thought to insulate herself against further loss by stuffing as much as she could in the small space.