Shadowed Lover

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Shadowed Lover Page 6

by Lauren Dawes


  He was stunned. His sister never swore. Like ever. He clutched the phone more tightly in his fist, looking at Luce when he said, “If you swear you’ll be there, I’ll bring her home.”

  “I swear it, Jett. I… God, I wish this wasn’t our life.”

  Didn’t he know it. He would’ve sprung them himself, except training to become a Shadow meant giving up everything from his former life. That aside, the stipend the Trinity gave them was barely two hundred and fifty bucks a month. At first, he’d sent it home, but after his mother used it to feed her habit, he started depositing it direct into Katya’s bank account. It wasn’t much, but it was something to support his three sisters.

  He rubbed at his Shadow Mark under his shirt, wondering—not for the first time—why he’d been given the out. He supposed it was thanks to his father, since the genes for Shadows were carried on the Y chromosome ninety-nine percent of the time, but he didn’t even know who the bastard was to thank him.

  “I know. I wish it were different, too.”

  There was a creak as she sat down on her wrought iron twin bed, the one that had belonged to him before he insisted she take it after he moved out. “When will you bring Luce back?”

  He stared into his little sister’s blue eyes, seeing how she pleaded with him not to let her go. “This evening,” he replied in a hollow voice. “I’ll bring her back this evening, but I want to spend the day with her first.”

  “Okay. Okay. Good. I’ll let Mom know.”

  “Just do me a favor, Kat? Make sure she’s sober when I get there.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  The line went dead, and Jett lowered his arm, defeated.

  “Do I have to go?” Luce asked in a small voice.

  He sat down beside her, putting his arm over her too slender shoulders and pulling her closer. “I’m sorry, baby, but yeah.”

  He smelled her tears before the soft sob reached him.

  “Don’t worry, though. Katya’s going to be home with you for two whole weeks. She’ll take you to and from school, and make sure nothing happens to you or Mom.”

  “What about her job?”

  “She’s taking some time off just for you, Luce, and as soon as I’m able, I’m going to be helping out more.” He didn’t know how he’d swing it, but he’d find a way.

  “Do you promise?”

  He pulled away a little to look in her eyes. “Don’t I always keep my promises?”

  She nodded and wiped away the tears.

  “Now, we have the whole day to spend together, so what should we do?”

  Her eyes lit up like only a little girl who’d just been given a reprieve from a shitty home life could. “Ice cream,” she started, holding up her fingers and ticking things off as she went. “Mini-golf. The cinema. Pizza.”

  “Whoa, whoa,” he interrupted with a laugh. “How about we start with the ice cream and see how far we get?”

  The sun was already dipping below the horizon when Jett and Luce finished off the last of their pizza. They’d spent the day doing everything Luce wanted to do, which meant mini-golf, ice cream, a movie, and a trip around the mall to get her some new books. Escapism shouldn’t be the coping mechanism of a ten-year-old, but she did what she had to do.

  “Jett?”

  He turned to look at Luce, who was studiously looking through the front passenger side window of Grayson’s car. “Hmm?”

  “Why does Mom do drugs?”

  He let out a breath and wondered how to answer that loaded question. He didn’t know for sure why she’d turned to the chemical relief, but he could take a guess.

  “That really is a question you’ll have to ask her, but I think she does it because she’s mad at your dad for leaving her, she’s mad at herself for letting him go, and I think she’s just mad at the world.”

  Luce took a minute to digest all that before saying, “Maybe she needs to forgive herself.”

  Jett was stunned by the wisdom of his little sister. It was funny how the view of someone who didn’t have as much life experience could resonate so much. Reaching across, he patted her on the knee and said, “You know what? I think you’re right.”

  Silence settled around them again, Jett praying that she didn’t fire any more moral questions his way. He was hardly a role model for clean living, but he knew without a doubt he would never, ever touch drugs.

  “Do you think she’ll stop?”

  His jaw tightened. He’d thought about this question a lot, had asked himself this question a lot. He couldn’t bring himself to tell Luce that he thought their mom was a lost cause. There was only one way she would stop using, and that was when she was in the grave.

  “I think she’ll know when the time is right.”

  When he slowed the car and turned into the driveway of the trailer park, he gave himself a mental pep talk. He hated the idea of leaving Luce here again, but with Katya around, he’d made peace with his reality. He stopped the car outside the worn out mobile home and killed the purring engine.

  He glanced up when the door swung open, slamming into the siding that would no doubt leave yet another dent in the place. Richard was standing in the doorway, backlit so his face was in shadow. But Jett didn’t need light to see the rage held in every tense muscle of his body.

  “Stay in the car, Luce,” he said, not taking his eyes from Richard. Jett popped open his door, rotating his neck until the vertebrae popped in submission. He was going to fucking put this bastard on the ground.

  “You have some nerve, boy,” Richard drawled, all confident swagger of a man fighting on his home turf. Well, fuck him and the drug mule he rode in on.

  “I was just protecting my sister,” he snarled back, his hands curling into tight fists. He was more than ready to throw down. In fact, he’d been waiting for this for a decade.

  “She doesn’t need protecting. I’m here now. I’m the head of this goddamn family. I protect this family.”

  “I wouldn’t trust you to protect the dirt under my shoes.”

  Richard stepped down onto the hard-packed earth, going toe to toe with Jett. Jett had at least four inches and fifty pounds on him. It wasn’t an even match, and the urge to just pummel him into the ground was nearly irritable. He needed the guy to swing first though. He needed it like he needed his next breath. So he waited. And sure enough, the fucker obliged. He telegraphed his move so all Jett had to do was duck, before slamming his fist into the guy’s stomach. He was rewarded with the sound of all the air rushing from his lungs as his body gave the evac order. Richard fell to his knees in front of Jett, his place of supplication totally at odds with the anger and rage polluting the air between them.

  “Jett!” his mother screamed, though she made no move to help her partner. She simply stood in the door, weaving as the drug haze funneled out of her body. He gave her a fleeting look, but that was all Richard needed. He head-butted Jett in the groin, dropping him like a stone.

  A heartbeat.

  That’s all it took for Richard to get his bony ass off the ground and onto Jett. Straddling his waist, Richard started to rain punches on him, hitting him over and over again. The problem was—well, his problem at least—was that all the drugging had left him with terrible stamina, so after a minute of throwing fists, the guy was exhausted, sagging off to one side as he tried to catch his breath. With his opponent taking a little breather, Jett flipped the script and clasped his hands together, slamming them into Richard’s sternum.

  The bastard tilted backward, falling into a heap on his back. The world became silent then, all except for the ragged gasps of air being sucked back into barely functioning lungs. Jett got to his feet and walked over to where the male flopped around like a dying fish. Winding back, Jett kicked the guy as hard as he could, a satisfied smirk forming on his mouth when Richard spat out his teeth. Jett lined up for another kick and another, snarling when Richard rolled over onto his front, tucking his legs in and covering his head the best he could.

  It was
a shame that not all the vital organs were in the front.

  Jett took to kidney shots before making sure the fucker’s spleen was wrapped around his spine. His swimming vision shifted from full color to muted grays, his gift firing through his blood like a high-octane engine being flooded with gasoline. His palms tingled, the need to burn an irresistible pull.

  His legs began to ache as he continued to kick and stomp on Richard’s motionless body. Blood decorated the ground around his head, a gruesome halo, a grotesque mockery of an angel. The scent of copper got stuck in his nose, and he recognized he was getting lost in the bloodlust, a feral need to punish Richard for everything he’d done to Jett’s family. He was prepared to dig the grave himself, right here, right now…

  “Jett.”

  He spun around to find Luce standing there, her stuffed unicorn held to her chest, her blue eyes wide and without judgment. Her gaze traveled down, taking in the sight of Richard’s blood on his shirt, on his fists, on his face. His breathing was even, modulated, as if he’d barely broken a sweat beating the ever-living shit out of a male jaguar.

  “Take me inside?” Such an innocent question, but as she hugged her unicorn even tighter, he saw the white-knuckled grip she had on it. He looked down at Richard, who was still curled up in a ball. He barely resisted the urge to spit on him. He hoped the guy stayed out here all night and froze his fucking balls off.

  Putting his arm around Luce, he started in the direction of the door and ushered her to go up the stairs. His mother stared at him like he was a stranger.

  “Are you coming inside?” his sister asked.

  Jett looked down at himself, finally seeing how much blood was on his shirt. On his arms. On his fists. “I’d better go, Luce. I think I’ve caused enough trouble here tonight.”

  He took one last look at her, then his mother, before getting back in the car. He did a three-point turn to get out then crept up the dirt and gravel road. At the entrance, he stopped, a figure standing in the darkness catching his attention.

  Katya stepped up to his window and stared. “Jesus, Jett, what—” He could practically see the pieces fall into place, the proverbial shoe dropping. “Is he still alive?”

  “Unfortunately.”

  Her face tightened. “Please tell me you didn’t start it. If Richard—”

  “I didn’t start it,” he replied. “I’m smart, Kat. I know how to draw someone into a fight.”

  She looked relieved.

  “Where were you?”

  She held up her hands, revealing groceries. “I thought some ice cream might smooth things over with Luce.”

  He smiled. “She already milked me for two today. That kid has some sort of super persuasion power.”

  “Yeah, she does. Just like her brother.”

  His expression sobered. “Where’s Mila?”

  “Still at her boyfriend’s place.”

  He rankled. “Have you met the male?”

  “Man,” she corrected. “He’s human.”

  “Fuck me,” Jett replied, the words popping free of his mouth without warning. Of course shifters dated humans, but the little problem of turning furry at will was always something that was a hindrance. “What’s he like?”

  Kat shrugged, peering down at her feet. “He’s okay. He treats her well. He doesn’t do drugs.”

  “All redeeming qualities,” he mumbled under his breath. He inhaled sharply and smelled his sister’s indecision. “There’s something you’re not telling me. Kat?” he prodded when she remained tight-lipped.

  “Maybe you should talk to her.”

  Okay, now he was getting pissed. “Maybe you should talk to me. What’s going on? I’m trying really hard to keep this family together, breaking all the rules by staying in contact with you. Do you know how much shit I’m in now?”

  Katya’s eyes widened, and she shook her head. “Will they kick you out?”

  “They can’t,” he lied. “But I’ve already come this far. There’s no point stopping now. So why don’t you tell me about whatever is happening with Mila.”

  Katya sucked in a breath, and the scent of her resignation filtered through the air, like burning wood in a pine forest. “She’s moved out. Mila is living with the guy.”

  Jett blinked, still trying to piece together the meaning of the words he’d just been told. “Isn’t she too young?” It was a fucking ridiculous thing to say, but his words had escaped him.

  “She’s twenty-one, Jett. She’s old enough to drink legally, and she’s old enough to choose who she lives with.”

  “I know this,” he replied through gritted teeth. What he didn’t know was why Mila hadn’t even bothered to share this information with him. They’d been tight—tighter than him and Katya had been growing up. She was only four years younger than him. He’d looked after her at school and watched out for her growing up. What the hell had happened?

  “You left, Jett,” Katya said sadly, reading the anguish on his face. “You didn’t just leave the house, though—you left us behind, too. And I know you had no choice, but Mila didn’t see it that way.”

  He ran a hand through his hair, well aware he was rubbing Richard’s blood into it. He’d fucked this up, hadn’t he?

  “Christ, Katya.”

  His sister only stared at him with sad eyes and shrugged.

  “Are you really going to get out of there? Take Luce with you?”

  “Yeah. I’ve been looking for apartments for months now. I just haven’t found the right place yet.”

  He felt like a fool for not seeing it before now. He’d failed them, hadn’t he? “I have to go, Kat. I just…” He stared at her, praying she’d understand. “I have to go.”

  Jett put the car in gear and pressed on the accelerator. He watched her silhouette disappear in the rearview mirror, the truth of her words buzzing around him. He felt like his skin was vibrating, like he needed to get out of it for a while. Pulling the GT over to the shoulder, he killed the engine and shut off the lights then got out, locked the doors, and pocketed the keys.

  He stepped off the road and walked into the forest that hemmed in Highway 89. When the pine needles beneath his boots crunched, he began stripping off. Leaving his clothes folded neatly beneath a lodgepole pine, he let his cat out to prowl in the hopes that purging his skin would also purge his guilt for not doing more.

  10

  Every breath Neve drew settled in her lungs with a tangible weight, like concrete being poured down her throat, choking her. She stared at the chess set sitting on the small end table in her father’s study, her focus had not moved for…

  God, she had no idea how long.

  All she could think about was Katie, her brain throwing up all sorts of scenarios that ended with Katie’s body being recovered, or not even found. She was stuck in an endless loop of grief and anger and feelings of complete hopelessness. She loathed the impotence.

  After the phone call her father had received, after he’d told her all the details of her cousin’s disappearance, she’d snuck out of the house and shifted, running to the spot only a mile and a half from her house. Katie’s car wasn’t there anymore, but she sniffed around, using her cat’s senses to try and piece the puzzle together.

  The night had closed in around her, the moon partially obscured by a long thick stretch of cloud that didn’t budge. The lack of light wasn’t necessarily a problem until the cloud cover fully blocked the moon for a moment. Keeping alert, she swept the area, pinpointing where the car had stopped. Motor oil and Katie’s scent still lingered on the dirt shoulder of the road, but there was something else…

  Neve had taken more of that foreign scent into her lungs, trying to place it. It was vaguely familiar, a tapping on her memory, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t figure out what it was. As she’d paced back and forth, her paw struck something metallic, the sound of it bouncing across the blacktop amplified by the dark, silent night. Swiping out her paw again, more of those metal objects tinkled into life�
��dozens of them. More. The cloud drifted away then, the moon revealing a hundred dull-gleaming stars across the road’s surface. Not stars…

  Screws.

  Hundreds of screws were strewn all over the road.

  She ran back the way she’d come for half a mile, finding more and more screws along the road.

  Not an accidental flat tire…

  But an engineered one.

  One of those screws was now in her jeans pocket, the weight of its secrets pressing on her. She stared at the hearth where a fire was burning happily, throwing off heat she barely felt. Was Katie cold where she was? Was she hurt or afraid, or had she somehow managed to muster some courage from within her sweet, gentle heart?

  Flipping her gaze over to the phone on her father’s desk, she willed the thing to ring, to get some sort of news or just a hint as to where her cousin was. Wrapping her arms more tightly around herself, she curled her hand around the only piece of evidence they had so far, placed her chin on her knees and waited some more.

  “Has she slept?” her mom’s voice crept in from the hallway, her anxious tone sliding over Neve. Her mom didn’t need to be worried about her. Neve was at home—safe.

  “I’ll get her to eat something,” her dad replied before her mom’s hushed footsteps receded and the Dyson fired up. Trust that female to turn to cleaning in a time of crisis.

  “How are you doing, kitten?” her dad asked a few minutes later, kneeling in front of her and swamping her periphery. Blinking, she looked at him, finding tension branching out from the corners of his eyes. Even the lines that bracketed his mouth seemed to be deeper.

  “I can’t sit around waiting. I…can’t.”

  He squeezed her knee and placed a sandwich on the table beside the couch. “I know.”

  “So what’s been done? Is anyone out looking for her? She’s been missing for almost twenty hours already.”

  He let out a tired breath. “The Shadows have been notified.”

  Hope flared. “What are they doing?”

 

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