by Nora Ash
Hidden in Darkness
Darkness Book Two
Nora Ash
Contents
Copyright
Get in Touch
Summary
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Next Book
Also by Nora Ash
Copyright
Copyright © 2016 by Nora Ash
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Any and all likeness to trademarks, corporations or persons, dead or alive, is purely coincidental.
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Summary
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.
* * *
Book 2 in Nora Ash’s erotic Paranormal Romance menage, Darkness. Each installment is novella length and ends in a cliffhanger.
One
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 cu
p of hot tea to warm up on after visiting your friend, my apartment is 4B.”
My smile turned tight and I felt a blush threaten to creep up my neck. Great. It wasn’t that I was unaccustomed to getting hit on by elder gentlemen—something about being a curvy girl seemed to draw them in, where their younger peers tended to completely overlook me. Maybe it was a leftover from times where food had to stretch for longer, and a chubby woman was easier to keep fed.
“Thanks, but I’m headed straight home after. Can’t keep the boyfriend waiting.” Yes, the “fake boyfriend” story. I was the only girl I knew of who frequently had to use that trick on pensioners. I shuffled closer to the wall and shot a desperate look at the display letting us know what floor we’d reached.
“What a pity,” he said, offering me another smile. “Do come by if you change your mind.” Then the elevator pinged, announcing that we’d reached the third floor, and I heaved an inaudible sigh of relief. It’s not that I feared the old guy would force himself on me or anything—and if he did, I’d probably be able to outrun him even with my poor shape—but at age 26 I was still terrible at dealing with any sort of male interest. Probably because it was so scarce.
Perhaps I should just be thankful that this guy at least wasn’t evil incarnate.
When the elevator door closed behind him I pulled my wandering thoughts together before they could once again stray to last night and all the things I really didn’t need to think about right before an interview. I was somewhat successful, and when I finally knocked on Aaron’s door, my focus was once again on the task at hand.
I could hear movement on the other side, and then the rattling of the chain before someone finally opened the door a few inches.
“What do you want?”
I frowned at his hostile tone. “Aaron? I just wanna talk. About Peter.”
“I don’t know anything about him. You need to leave.” He started to close the door again, but I jammed my hand against it and stopped him.
“I know that’s not true—I’ve seen the pictures of you two. Please, I really need to know what happened to him. I think… I think maybe the same thing is going to happen to me.” Saying it out loud sent chills through me, but it got Aaron’s attention. He stopped pushing against the door, and a moment later, he peeked out at me from behind the chain. His brown eyes were still narrowed, but as he took in my soaked and disheveled figure, they softened notably. Apparently, my appearance didn’t scream “crazy serial killer.”
“Can I come in, please?” I pressed, doing my best to look as nonthreatening as I possibly could. For a short, chubby woman who’s just been soaked to the bone, that’s pretty damn nonthreatening.
Aaron nodded and unhooked the chain so he could let me in.
I stepped into the small hallway and turned toward the young man I’d effectively stalked to get my answers. Hopefully, it would be worth it.
“Why do you think what happened to Peter is going to happen to you?” he asked as he guided me into a small, cluttered living room. “And what exactly is it you want from me?”
“I wrote an article about the mayor relying too much on the superhumans, and how corruption is spreading like wildfire. Last night, someone attacked me.” I clenched my hands, trying to keep my voice even. “Someone out there thinks I know something more than I do, and I need to figure out what is going on if I want a fighting chance at living through this. I know Peter disappeared after… after writing an article about something similar. I thought maybe it was connected?”
“And that I would know something?” Aaron shook his head, his lips pressed into a thin line. “Look, if the same people who went after Peter are after you, then I don’t want to get involved. Peter wasn’t the only one who disappeared—his two roommates, his sister and parents did, too.” I frowned. “I didn’t see any mention of that when I researched it. You would think—”
“That six people disappearing would have made the news?” He slumped down on the rickety sofa and stared into the room. “I don’t think you know who you’re dealing with.”
I felt like the wind had been knocked out of my lungs. Sure, being attacked by five armed men in an alley had put the amount of danger I was in into sobering perspective, but to exterminate Peter’s entire family along with his roommates? That was a level of evil I couldn’t wrap my mind around.
“Look, I don’t want to get dragged into this, okay? I was lucky they didn’t know about… about Peter and me.” Aaron’s voice broke and he coughed, averting his gaze. “I was stupid to leave those pictures up, but it… it’s so hard to pretend like he never existed.”
“I’m sorry,” I said softly. My heart went out to him—he hadn’t just lost a friend. For once, I was thankful for my loner status. My mom died several years ago, and I’d never known my father. It was a small consolation to know that my writing wouldn’t hurt any loved ones.
“I won’t mention you to anyone, I promise,” I continued. “I just need to know if Peter told you anything about this that he didn’t post? Any clues?”
He heaved a sigh and rubbed at his face. I was courteous enough to pretend I didn’t see the wet shine in his eyes.
“If, by some miracle, you actually manage to take them down, will you make sure the world knows what they did to Peter?”
I nodded. If I survived this maelstrom of danger I’d unwittingly jumped into, then that was the least I could do. “I will.”
“The mayor is behind a lot of the superhuman crime.”
I heard the words, but it took me several moments before they sank in.
“I’m sorry, what do you mean ‘behind’?” Sure, both Lightning and The Shade had hinted that the mayor was corrupt, but I’d pictured something along the lines of being dodgy with the tax budget. Not… whatever this was.
“I mean that, according to Peter, he’s either working for the bad superhumans, or they are working for him. He said he needed proof of which way around it was, but he was certain that what he wrote in his article was only the tip of the iceberg. He was trying to figure out how to break into the mayor’s house to go through his files when he… disappeared. If you really want to do this, you should look for a file labeled ‘Blue Jay’ or ‘Blue Sparrow,’ or something like that. And anything related to Bright. He seemed to believe there was a connection between Bright and the mayor.”
I frowned, resisting the urge to pull out my notepad and a pen. If this was a credible lead, I was pretty certain I didn’t want any written proof of my knowledge of it. “And what’s in that file?”
Aaron shrugged. “I don’t know. But that’s what Peter said he needed to prove that the mayor is behind all the bad shit in this city.”
Two
I had to resist the urge to call Trish on the way home and let her know what I’d uncovered. If everyone the mayor thought knew anything about what Peter had discovered was now dead, I didn’t want to bring her into it until I had something solid. That way, we would both have her newspaper’s protection and I wouldn’t cause my best friend’s death.
Which meant that I had to sort through this new information on my own.
When I finally made it home, my brain felt heavy from spending the entire way from Aaron’s apartment thinking over what he’d said, and what I was pretty sure would be the onset of a cold if I didn’t get out of my wet, cold clothes.
I had just changed into my white-with-pink-piglets footie pajamas and poured myself a steaming cup of coffee, preparing for a night in front of the computer trying to figure out my next move, when the sensation of being watched made every hair on the back of my neck stand on end.
Oh, God, no. Please, no.
In the three seconds it took for me to accept that someone was there, my mind whirled with every single crime scene photo I’d ever seen on the news or Internet. Previously, I might have spent time trying to convince myself that my instincts screaming at me that someone was in the apartment were wrong, but I’d had too much recent experience with dangers lurking in the
shadows to ignore them.
I grabbed a knife off the block on the kitchen counter and spun around, weapon raised.
A large, black-clad figure stared at me from the other end of the kitchen
The Shade.
The Shade was in my home.
My mind switched gears instantly, the images in my head turning into memories of my last encounter with him. The dirty brick wall, his slanted smirk, the feel of his hands on my hips and his cock inside of me.
My involuntary whimper made heat rush to my face. I tightened my grip on the knife with both hands, pointing it at him. “What do you want?
His white teeth gleamed. “Really, kitten?”
“Really what?” I spat. I hated that he was making me feel embarrassed. I shouldn’t have felt anything but terror at having The Shade appear in my kitchen.
“A bread knife?” He tutted and then turned, walking further into my studio apartment. “We really need to teach you some self-defense.”
“What do you want?” I repeated. His dismissal only amplified my anger, which thankfully went a long way to calming my initial burst of fear and adrenaline.
“Is that a way to greet guests?” The Shade taunted. He didn’t even look over his shoulder at me, instead opting to explore my home. I warily followed, keeping an eye on him while making sure there was plenty of distance between us, the knife still clutched in my hand.
“I don’t usually draw out the welcome mat for burglars.”
The Shade chuckled and finally turned around to face me again. He rested a hip against the back of my sofa, looking seriously out of place in his dark suit and with the two sword handles sticking up over his shoulders. “Drop the knife. The only one you’re going to hurt with that thing is yourself.”