Chapter 3
Cam was standing at Segue’s front doors
when the sleek, black Audi with deep tinted windows came to a stop.
Looked like an A8. Nice ride. No soldiers were present; they had in
fact been ordered away from this part of the building. In addition,
Marshall had informed him that security cameras would be disabled
for the duration of the visit, per the aide’s requirements. Cam was
to make a report directly to Adam Thorne after the visit was over.
Marshall didn’t want to know anything.
So it was him against the Audi.
Right.
Cam pushed his way out of the building
as the driver’s side opened. The aide had
white hair and was wearing a dark grey suit. When he stood fully
and turned his face toward the building, the nerves in Cam’s body
buzzed. But it wasn’t until the man came closer that Cam became
truly afraid.
The man, the aide, was perfect. He had
blue eyes, crystalline in their intensity. His skin tone was even.
No visible scars, wrinkles, even pores, though he seemed old. His
features were regular, the mouth perhaps a little wide. But none of
that mattered: He was beautiful beyond the very meaning of the
word. He gleamed with his beauty.
Not
human.
The man came to a stop in front of him.
“But I was once,” he said. His voice had the timbre of youth, his
tone the sense of time.
Cam clenched his teeth with the
knowledge that he faced someone far, far beyond himself. Beyond his
understanding, his years of study. And who could crush him like a
bug. Jose’s Segue boot camp was nothing against this
man.
What are you
now? Cam asked mentally, to show he was at least a little
intelligent.
The aide cut him an enigmatic smile in
answer, then asked, “Where is she?”
No good. I won’t let
you have her until I’m satisfied. He hoped the aide didn’t
hear the gulp. And then he waited to die.
The aide tilted his head in interest.
Menacing interest. “Are you throwing in with her
then?”
Cam hesitated, wavered. He’d only known
her a day. Sure he liked her and sympathized with her plight, her
sad history, but it wasn’t like she was family. She was intriguing,
or more like . . . captivating, but she didn’t mean anything.
“Then, no?” the aide asked,
amused.
But he wouldn’t stand by and let her be
harmed either. He wouldn’t be able to look himself in the mirror if
he did nothing and left her to this creature’s mercy.
“Creature is a
little strong,” the aide said, and pressed his lips together in
distaste, but with humor, as well.
“So what are you?” Cam sure wasn’t
laughing. “And what do you intend to do with her?”
“Then you are
making her your business.”
For Ellie, yes, he guessed he was. So
be it.
The aide turned, opening the door to
Segue. “I am an angel,” he said, “and I’m going to give her a
choice.”
Ellie’s mind went suddenly, acutely
awake and alert, though just moments before she’d been in a
sickening, groggy sleep, stuck in a dream in which she’d been
running, but too slow and too clumsy to escape her shadowy
pursuer.
A man sat at her bedside. The intensity
of his appearance, the sharp blue of his eyes, had her scrambling
backward off the other side and backing to the wall. No one normal
looked like that.
“What do you want?” she demanded. She
didn’t bother to cover herself. She knew instinctively that he
could see right through her if he wanted. Where was her
shadow?
Oh God, her shadow.
“I’m here to help you,” he said. He
stayed in the chair, legs crossed, his body at ease. But something
told her he was very strong and very quick when he needed to
be.
The aide. Had to be. No wonder Cam had
been cagey about him.
“Laurence, actually,” the man said.
“And you’re Ellie Russo. You’ve got quite the hero in that young
man out there.” He smiled warmly. “He was ready to take me on. Or
try, at least.”
“Cam.” What did you do
to him?
“He’s fine,” Laurence said. “In fact, I
like him. I believe I’ll be seeing more of him in the
future.”
That didn’t sound good. Poor Cam. And
she’d gotten him into this.
Shadow? Ellie
called.
“I understand you’ve come to Segue for
help with a problem,” Laurence continued, his tone mild. “I’m here
to help. Why don’t we begin with you telling me about
it?”
Ellie didn’t want to. Shadow!
“I can’t help if you won’t
try.”
What would he do to her if she did?
What had he done to Cam?
Laurence waited, exuding a weird
patience in the face of her alarm. It seemed as if he was willing
to wait forever. As if she had no way out of the conversation but
to answer him.
Ellie wished she’d never come to Segue.
She choked on air, but spoke anyway. “My shadow is separate from
me.” There.
He smiled sadly, but without surprise.
He’d clearly known that much before coming. “That must be
difficult,” he said, his calm unperturbed. “How long have you lived
with this condition?”
All my life.
“Since I was born. We came out that way.”
“Very difficult,” he amended. “You’ve
been strong to endure it and brave to ask for help.”
Not so strong. Not so
brave. Just ask Cam.
“With your permission, I’d like to call
her.” His gaze intensified slightly.
“What?” Her shadow would be close,
watching her, but she’d stay in hiding, ignoring Ellie’s calls,
until he tried something. In case he tried to hurt her. Ellie
couldn’t imagine what would happen then.
“I can command her presence,” Laurence
said, “but I won’t without your consent.”
Impossible.
He tilted his head. “May I call
her?”
Ellie gave a bitter laugh. “You can
try. She won’t come for me.”
He grew very serious, lifting a hand
before him. “Ellie,” he said softly, then harder, “join
us.”
A bump of shadow appeared at the wall,
halted for a second, then thrashing and bucking, straining for
freedom, her shadow was pulled through the barrier. She fought as
if invisible bands restrained her core, limbs clawing the air in an
attempt to flee. “Let me go!” she shrieked. “Stop! Let me go!
Help!”
Flesh and blood Ellie slid to the
floor, her legs suddenly unable to hold her weight. Before she
touched down, the bedroom door burst open, and Cam appeared, face
red, hands fisted.
Laurence sent him an exasperated look.
“Really?”
“Let her go,” Ellie begged on her
shadow’s behalf. “Please. She doesn’t like it . . .”
Cam was at Ellie’s side, lifting her
back to her feet, a strong arm around her waist. He addressed
Laurence. “She said, stop.”
“Ellie can speak for herself, thank
you,” Laurence returned.
Cam’s support at her side helped to
quiet the screams of protest in her bones. Her shadow did not like
force, had resisted all attempts at control. Who was this man who
could so effortlessly bind the dark, deep half of
herself?
“I asked your consent,” Laurence said,
that piercing gaze settling back on Ellie, “because I know she is
part of you. The deepest part of you. It would be unconscionable of
me to restrain her without your permission.”
“I’ll kill you!” her shadow shrieked.
But still she was caught in an invisible web, flailing for
escape.
Ellie tamped down on the panic in her
heart. Consent. That’s right. He’d asked first. And if he could
hold her shadow, then maybe . . .
“Can you help me?” Ellie asked
Laurence.
“Again, it is your choice,” Laurence
answered. “If you are willing, I can merge the shadow with the
flesh, as was meant to be.”
Merge?
Ellie shook her head no, and fast. No
way. Not merge. That was not what she wanted.
“Set me free!” her shadow
screamed.
“How did it happen in the first place?”
Cam asked.
Laurence shifted his gaze away from
Ellie again, a small relief while she piled together all the ways
that she could say no. In this, she and her shadow were in
agreement.
“In recent years many strange things
have been occurring. The world is changing in so many ways. Some
magic—”
“You mean Shadow,” Cam said.
Her dark half bucked like a wild
animal, making incoherent sounds of protest.
Ellie would never take that feral,
lewd, childish thing inside herself. It was obscene. She’d wanted
to be rid of it. Not, oh God, absorb
it.
Laurence smiled at Cam. “Yes. Shadow
probably had something to do with what happened. An errant lash
might have pulled her apart during gestation, or something similar.
That Ellie lives is remarkable. Makes me think she was meant to
live.” He shifted his ice blue gaze back to Ellie. “What say
you?”
Ellie didn’t care how much power
Laurence had. “No. I’m sorry, I can’t. I won’t. Can’t you just . .
. separate us for good instead?” Please?
“That is impossible. I can only merge
your two halves. Please consider carefully before you refuse. Think
about what your shadow may be capable of if she goes unchecked by
your higher reason. Ultimately, her actions
are your actions. You need to learn to mind
her. I know it will be an adjustment.”
“Adjustment” didn’t begin to cover
it.
Cam tightened his hold. “It’s how it
should be, Ellie. Both of you together.”
She pulled away. She didn’t need anyone
to hold her up. “You don’t know what you’re talking
about.”
“Everyone has a shadow,” Cam explained,
as if she were the stupid one. As if she
didn’t know that already. “Deep down,” he continued, “I’m exactly
like your shadow is, but a guy version, which is probably
worse.”
Gran had done a better job explaining
when Ellie was four.
Laurence shook his head at Cam. “Please
don’t help.”
Ellie ignored them both, moving beyond
Cam to the door. They didn’t understand. Well, maybe the freakish
one with the crystal eyes did. “I said, no. Now let her
go.”
Laurence dropped his hand, and her
shadow fled the room, a dart of smoke. Ellie, too, ran as far as
she could. Soldiers barred her apartment door, so she huddled in
the kitchen.
She’d wanted to be severed from her
shadow, not merged. Severed.
Because the truth was that her shadow
had grown way too strong for her to control. If they were joined,
her shadow would take over. Recent events proved it.
And then what would become of
her?
Cam was dumbfounded. He looked at the
bedroom door, still ajar from Ellie’s flight, and then back to the
angel. “Isn’t that what she came for? To live a normal
life?”
“Her normal is different from your
normal. She knows the risks.” The angel stood and adjusted his
cuffs. “It may take a little while for her to consider her options.
I expected as much.”
“And you can’t force her?” Not that Cam
liked the idea. He just wanted to know how things
stood.
The angel smiled. “Oh, I can, but it is
against the credo of The Order to hamper the free will of
humankind.” His eyes lit. “Though on occasion some nudging is
necessary.”
“You don’t interfere?” Cam was relieved
to hear it.
“We rarely interfere,” the angel
answered. “And almost never between humans. Otherwise, we might as
well govern the world ourselves. Govern individual independence,
too. But what is self-determination, if someone else manages
it?”
“Then what are you good for?” Cam asked
to goad him.
The angel didn’t look irritated.
“Somehow we keep busy. And in these momentous days, even more so.
Ellie’s case may be unique, but the need for our intervention is
not. If it hadn’t been Adam Thorne requesting our aid, she would’ve
had to wait.” His eyelids lowered, as if he were deep in thought.
“And I don’t think she could’ve waited much longer. In fact, I
think Ellie Russo is just in time. Both her selves know she is at
the brink.”
Cam was afraid of that. The shadow was
unmanageable. And if that hungry-for-life part of Ellie could
touch at will, if she were as strong as
Ellie claimed last night, as unruly as her behavior demonstrated,
then yes, this was a very big problem. “And if she refuses your
help?”
The angel met Cam at the door. “If she
refuses, then nothing. I’ll leave her be. Eventually, though, and
especially if the shadow proves dangerous, someone will have to
take matters into their own hands.”
Cam flashed cold.
“Someone will have to take
responsibility,” Laurence repeated, heavy with
meaning.
Someone, huh? Why didn’t he just say
you? Because Cam knew he was the only human
who understood Ellie. And he was the one who’d agreed just an hour
ago to stand by her, no matter what.
The angel was one tricky son of a
bitch.
“And you will stop her, since you know
how.” The angel leaned in, his blue gaze boring into Cam’s. “And
how will you stop her? How will you end the
shadow’s threat and Ellie’s torment?”
Cam looked away. This felt like one of
Laurence’s aforementioned nudges.
“Say it, please,” said the angel, “so
that I know we have a perfect understanding.”
“I have free will, too,” Cam bit out.
Seemed like the angel needed reminding.
“And is it your will to allow her
shadow to act with impunity?”
It didn’t have to be like that. Maybe
they could reach the shadow somehow, like with the painting and
even with the connection growing between Ellie and himself. Maybe
they could find some way to really communicate with
her.
The angel sighed. “You’re making a
conscious effort to muddle your own mind, when the course is clear.
Say it.”
Oh God, poor Ellie. She had to make the
right choice, or he’d eventually have to make a worse one. He felt
like shit. He was a shit, to agree to betray her.
“It’s not betrayal. Say it. What will
you do, if and when it becomes necessary?”
Cam put his hands over his face for the
privacy of dark to make a promise. He would do everything else
first before taking this too-easy way out. Absolutely everything
else first, but this.
“It’s hard, I know. But say
it.”
Son of a bitch angel. This was not what
he signed up for. Not what he came to Segue for. What the hell was
wrong with the world that he, of all people, would be asked
this?
“Now, please.”
Fine. Only if absolutely necessary.
“I’ll kill her.”
Ellie saw movement in the crack beneath
the kitchen door. Someone was coming to try to get her to change
her decision. Of course they were. She got off the floor for a
little dignity, but her decision was already made.
There was a knock.
She briskly answered it, finding Cam on
the other side.
“How are you holding up?” he asked. He
looked unhappy. She was too.
“I’m fine now, thanks.” Now that she
had her control back. “And I want to thank you for everything
you’ve done. You and Segue and Laurence. I was looking for a
solution, and I clearly came to the right place.”
“But it’s not the solution you want.”
He stepped inside, closing the door behind him.
“No, I’m afraid not.” It was the
solution she had feared. Still, she was glad she had tried. At
least she had an answer.
“I’m guessing you already know my
argument against your decision.”
“Yep. I know all sides.” All the good,
the passions that her shadow promised, and all the bad of her
wildness, her shamelessness. Ellie took a deep breath, as deep as
she could. “Which is why I’ve decided to go back home. It’s best if
my shadow isn’t around other people.” She didn’t elaborate why. He
could figure it out. Her shadow was stronger than she, and though
her dark half hadn’t yet demonstrated violence, Ellie knew she was
capable. Ellie had firsthand knowledge of what her shadow could do.
She couldn’t very well allow that madness to possess her. Laurence
was naïve to even offer.
“So you’re giving up.”
She stuck out her chin. “I’m being
smart.”
“You know it can’t end well, right?”
His voice lowered.
“It can’t end well no matter what I do,
so I prefer to keep that thing outside of
me.”
He nodded, though his expression showed
he clearly did not agree. “There’s nothing I can say to change your
mind?”
“No. I’m sorry.” She didn’t know why
she added the last bit, except that she was disappointing him. And
she liked him and didn’t want him thinking badly of her, even
though it was inevitable.
“What about the danger—”
“I’m fully aware, thanks,” Ellie
interrupted.
“Okay,” he said.
He moved so fast that her lips parted
in a swift intake of breath. His arms went around her, one at her
waist, one high at her shoulders, a hand to the back of her head.
And his mouth came down on hers, hot, the texture all male. His
body was tense, the length and strength of him evident in the hard
planes of his muscle, the expert balance of their weight . . . but
not like she’d seen or read in books. Especially the hot
ones.
Her first kiss, only kiss. And she
wanted to lose herself in it. In Cam, who was
wonderful.
His mouth stroked hers, a tease for a
response, and she tried to give back, holding on to him, and
pressing with all her might. She molded her body to his, but the
kiss was still . . . not . . . quite . . .
Ellie saw her shadow step out of the
wall, a gleam of mine! in her eyes. Ellie
squeezed her own eyes shut to deny her presence so that she could
have this one moment to herself. One chance to kiss and be kissed.
One chance before they went home.
But her shadow would not be denied. In
a burn of fury, Ellie felt her shadow occupy the same space as her
flesh and blood body. Felt the dark want of her self engage in the
kiss, and with it a scorching passion that made the kiss
delicious, the feel of his body a torment of
not-quite bliss against her. His tongue rubbed hers, and she and
her shadow responded with a slide of her own.
A tight place, low down, beat with need
and her body changed in his hold from a clutch to a melding that
begged for sex. Sex, she got it now. Cam growled from somewhere
deep in his chest, tightening his arms.
Ellie wanted him.
Now.
The fever leaped, her vision blanking,
her body tensing with a primal knowledge, loosening in preparation.
Ready.
Too much! Ellie drew back, gasping for
air and blinking hard. She fought her way out of Cam’s grasp and
stumbled backward, hitting her head on a cupboard. Stars pricked
into her vision, but not so many that she didn’t see her shadow
still kissing Cam.
“Stop it!” Ellie yelled, though she
didn’t know if she was yelling at herself or at him.
Cam’s eyes opened, flicked to her, a
pace from his position. He shoved her shadow away from him,
stuttering, “I . . . um . . .” while keeping her shadow at arm’s
length.
It wasn’t fair. That feeling. That
indescribable feeling. Her shadow got the best of everything.
Absolutely everything.
“Ellie—” Cam said.
She cut him off. “Just don’t.” She
shook her head, trying to get rid of the drugging feel of his kiss.
She pulled her thoughts back together. The kiss had felt
magnificent, but her shadow was just too damn strong. “That was a
really good try—”
“Better than good,” Cam
corrected.
“But you have to see how it won’t work,
how she takes over.” Just look how dark, how real, her shadow had become.
Ellie turned abruptly and fumbled for a
drink of water. Anything to occupy herself.
“But together—”
She pushed the faucet lever full blast.
“Together I won’t be me.”
Cam left Ellie to her drink, exiting
the kitchen. She’d think it through and maybe come to another
decision. The stunt her shadow had pulled had unnerved him too, and
Ellie had had a lifetime of it. The kiss was an impulse. If
discussion wasn’t going to change her mind, maybe a little
demonstration would. Had it worked? Outlook, doubtful. Maybe he was
rusty.
No. He’d done a damn fine job. And so
had she.
He closed the door behind him, doubting
her shadow would follow into the room occupied by the angel. After
what had happened in the bedroom, Cam was pretty sure Ellie’s
shadow hated the angel.
“Valiant effort,” Laurence said from
his stance at the window, a sardonic curl to his
mouth.
“Well, I try,” Cam answered back. The
commentary was unnecessary.
What to do now? If she took the angel
up on his offer, then she’d be cured. She might need counseling,
but the threat the shadow posed would be over. If she opted
against, then what? Would she be permitted to leave Segue? Who got
to decide? Marshall? The angel? Adam Thorne?
“Or maybe you?” Laurence
suggested.
“The mind reading thing is annoying,”
Cam said. “Can you cut it out?”
“Yes, but I won’t. Not until matters
are resolved.” The angel closed his eyes. “Which I think will be
very soon.”
He had to be reading Ellie’s mind.
“What’s she thinking? Is she going to do it?”
“I’m not in Ellie Russo’s mind, just
now.” Laurence said. “I’m marveling at the audacity of the man
intending to steal Kathleen O’Brien’s painting.”
Cam had been about to sit, but
straightened in alarm instead. “What? Who?”
“The window into the Shadowlands, of
course,” Laurence said. “And the thief would be your team leader,
Dr. Leonard Joseph Shelstad.”
The Shadowlands. Shelstad? Yeah, he was prick enough when he wanted to
be. Cam remembered the trees, the lushness of the growth. The thick
magic in the dark spaces, and the species that existed within.
Stealing that painting was beyond criminal—it was corrupt. Someone
had to stop him.
“It’s an excellent opportunity, don’t
you think?” Laurence opened his eyes. “Wouldn’t you be tempted?
You’re a lot alike, after all. Both pledging your intellects to the
study of magic.”
Where was security? Where were all the
soldiers that were supposed to protect Segue?
“The soldiers were ordered away from
this part of the building for my visit,” Laurence said. “The
cameras are offline to protect the existence of my kind, the
knowledge of which is worth more than any painting. Even that
one.”
Angels. “Well, can’t you do something?”
“I can, but I won’t. It is against the
credo—”
“Yeah yeah, I heard that part already,”
Cam interrupted. The human interference thing. For pete’s sake, it
was ridiculous. The angel would just stand by and do nothing. All
right, God damn it, if the angel wouldn’t stop Lenny, Cam would.
This whole business was a mess.
“Oh, dear,” Laurence said. “It seems
Lenny has annoyed someone else with his
intent as well. Can you guess who?”
Well, anybody who’d ever seen the
painting.
Laurence flicked his gaze to the closed
kitchen door. “Ellie’s shadow felt strongly about it last night,
didn’t she?”
“Her shadow is in the kitchen.” But
horror bloomed in Cam’s mind. Her shadow didn’t stay anywhere for
long.
Laurence pressed his lips together and
shook his head slightly. “She’s not there anymore.”
Ellie was just about to open the
door—she was steady now and ready to face them—when it flew open
before her.
She startled back a step, but Cam
grabbed her by the arm and pulled her into the living room. “You’re
in trouble. Somebody’s trying to steal that painting, and your
shadow is attempting to stop them.”
“What?” But her attention caught on the
man at the window. Laurence. His piercing regard made her squirm,
but she wasn’t going to do what he asked, so he could just go ahead
and look the other way.
“If the blade at Lenny’s throat is any
indication,” Laurence said, his gaze never wavering, “you’d best
hurry.”
Cam yanked Ellie’s arm. “Are you
listening?” he demanded, dragging her toward the door. “Your shadow
has got a knife to my boss’s throat.”
Her attention snapped to
Cam.
A knife? Her
shadow? Ellie shook her head to deny it. Couldn’t be. Not
yet. Ellie had hoped to get away from this place, away from her
farm even, far away from people, before she had to face this. It
was too soon.
Cam jogged her down the hall, letting
her arm go when she followed, with Laurence at the rear. She really
wanted to run the other way. The hallway to the stairs was too
short, the stairwell halved by the skipped steps on the way down.
Cam foundered on the main level, not sure where to go. Laurence
tilted his head in a direction, and they were off again, Cam
bitterly mumbling nudge, which Ellie didn’t
understand at all.
“We’ll be too late,” Cam said over his
shoulder as he rushed through connecting rooms. “She’ll kill him
before we can get there.”
“We’ll be just in time,” said Laurence,
who was not out of breath at all. “I will make certain that what
happens is not a factor of a few steps.”
Ellie knew he was bent on making her
responsible.
The door to the last room was open,
strange, grunting sounds coming from within.
Cam made to enter, but Laurence touched
his shoulder, stopping him. Both looked at Ellie.
Ellie didn’t want to go in there. She
didn’t want to face the worst in herself—that she was violent,
maybe even a killer. For a second she thought to turn her back on
the scene, but that would be silly and futile. Part of her was
already inside. If she was going to do this thing, damn herself in
front of Cam and Laurence and probably her Gran, who’d promised to
watch over them, then all of her would be present.
Ellie entered first. The painting of
the magical world leaned against the wall, one corner of its canvas
cut from the frame and hanging forward in a curl. Nevertheless, the
forest was once again alive with gorgeous promise. A man, the one
with the long chin, lay on the floor at the painting’s base, his
head craning toward the door as he gasped, “Help!” And her naked
shadow, opaque and glossy in her solid state, straddled him. Her
expression was ugly as she held a box cutter to his
throat.
“You hurt the painting,” her shadow
snarled.
Cam and Laurence entered and both
circled around to view the damage and her shadow monster. Cam held
a hand behind his back, as if he concealed something. He stood
straight, almost rigid, like one of the soldiers. His skin had gone
pasty pale, but he didn’t watch her shadow. Cam kept his eyes on
Ellie.
“Now is as good a time as any, Ellie,”
Laurence said. “I won’t hold her any longer.”
Any moment her shadow could draw the
blade across the man’s throat.
Ellie shook her head. “I’m not strong
enough for her anymore.” Years ago maybe, but even then . .
.
“Please, Ellie,” Cam begged. He looked
ill.
The man on the floor snorted through
tears and snot. His face was flushed, sweat glistening. “Help me!”
he screamed, though the movement sent a trickle of blood down his
neck.
Gran would be so sad, so disappointed
that it had come to this.
Ellie lifted her gaze to Laurence. “I’m
not nearly strong enough, but I’ll try.”
Cam swayed on his feet, breathing
relief. He must really care. His arm dropped to his side, and Ellie
saw that he held a gun.
A shiver swept her as the reason for it
popped into her mind. She hadn’t considered that he might have been
planning to stop her shadow in the only way possible. By stopping
her.
Laurence opened his palm toward the
couple struggling on the floor in an invitation.
“Quickly.”
Ellie knew what he meant. She had an
idea from Cam’s kiss about how this would work. There was no way
she could be passive about this merging. She had to take control
herself.
She walked toward her panting shadow,
whose eyes were wide and wild. With a gulp, Ellie lowered her body,
crawling into the same crouch as her dark self. Her knees found the
same bend, her thighs the same grip on the man’s trunk. Her hand on
the blade.
Rage filled her, a tornado of it
filling her mind. The painting. The beauty of forever. Pure
seduction. Pure bliss. Freedom.
And this man was going to take it from
her? He would die.
Ellie tried to pull the blade away, but
it was her shadow that gripped it. Ellie’s flesh and blood hand
came away clenched, but empty. Her shadow didn’t even signify her
presence in the struggle. Ellie was nothing to her. Anger was
paramount.
Ellie looked up at Laurence. If he was
going to do something, he’d better get on with it.
Laurence’s hand was outstretched toward
her, his lips moving as if casting a spell, concentration in the
flex of his features.
A wave of warm air hit Ellie. Her
vision blurred as the room warped. Her heart had been beating in
fear, but the tempo doubled, layered with overwhelming emotion, a
sea of it that drowned her mind. All she knew was the fury that
ruled her shadow and a pricking of her flesh. The pricks became a
fierce itch, the same intense tingling as sleeping limbs waking,
then a burn sizzled her skin, blood, and bones. Something fusing
within her.
The pain grew until Ellie screamed,
contracting her limbs to curl into a fetal ball. No relief. She
threw her head back, the force of it rolling her from the man’s
body. The man scrambled back, wiping at his face and nose, cursing
and spitting.
And that’s when Ellie knew that she and
her shadow were one.
One.
She clambered up, dazed at what had
occurred. The forever painting was safe, thank
God, the horrible man alive. She shook with raging
emotion—still raw, still powerful, could kill
him, but it seemed she had mastered her shadow after
all.
She was in charge.
With a huge sigh of relief, and an
uncertain smile thrown toward Cam, Ellie relaxed.
Everything was going to be okay.
Finally. And really, it hadn’t been so very hard.
Kill.
Her shadow wrenched free of her, taking
the blade, and launched itself into the air toward the man on the
floor.
Ellie lunged after—No!—reaching to restrain her dark self, who halted in
the middle of her strike.
A loud pop, gunshot, almost made Ellie
lose her hold. She looked in the direction of the noise, at Cam,
who held a smoking gun pointed at her.
Cam?
Ellie held her shadow aloft as Laurence
had earlier, her shadow clawing toward her target. Ellie dropped to
her knees as her shadow dimmed.
At the edge of her vision, the blade
clattered to the floor.
And the floor rushed up to smack her
into oblivion.