From the Shadows (A Shadow Chronicles Novel) Read online

  “Hey there, boy,” he said softly. I growled at him—why was it that people always jumped to the conclusion that a strange dog was male? The man, who I was trying not to see as attractive (and it struck me as I looked into his eyes that he really, really was), chuckled and held his hands up in a position of surrender. “Sorry. Hey there, girl. Thank you for wandering in here when you did. I mighta been pounded into pulp if you hadn’t.”

  He knelt then and held his hand out to me. I backed away again. Okay, I thought, time to go. I needed to get out of there, slip into my room somehow, and get some clothes on so I could come back for my belongings before someone found them.

  “Don’t be afraid,” the stranger said. “I’m not going to hurt a beautiful thing like you.”

  Two

  As I looked at him, his scent wafted toward me again. I wondered if the reason he smelled the way he did was because he worked with animals—maybe as a vet, or at a local shelter. Whatever the reason, I distinctly detected human mixed with different animals—avian, feline, canine, and reptile—coming from this guy. I’d have frowned in consternation had I been in my human form.

  “Please,” he went on. “Don’t go. You’re a gorgeous dog. Surely someone is missing you, eh?”

  How I wished I could laugh at the irony of his words. Boy did he have not the slightest clue, I mused, as to how close to the truth he was. Playing my part still, I whined and made to turn around.

  “Wait, please… Shit, I’m talking to this dog like it can actually understand me,” the stranger said, and I watched him stand. “I so need to get out of this town. Fucking vampires are driving me crazy.”

  He looked down at me again. “I don’t know if you can understand me—probably not, but… If you’re hungry, I can get you something to eat. Even give you a place to crash for the night. I’ll start looking for your owner tomorrow.

  “Whataya say, huh?” he asked holding his hand out to me again.

  Oh man, what the hell did I do? As far as I could see, I had three options: One, I could simply run away, which was probably the best idea. Two, I could go with him and split later, like when he was in the bathroom. Easy to manage, I supposed. Three, I could scare the crap out of him by shifting back into human form and revealing myself. Not the best idea by a long shot, that one. There’s even a law against that among my people—werekind could not reveal themselves to humans unless they had imprinted on that human. Period. Of course, there were always a handful of cases where a human who had not been imprinted on found out about my kind, but they were rare, and the human was usually threatened with severe consequences (up to and including death, depending on the Family) should they tell the truth to anyone.

  I figured it wouldn’t hurt to take door number two. After all, he certainly was easy on the eyes. A part of me didn’t want to run off simply because it had been so long since I’d spent time with anyone but the figures on the TV in my room, or the staff and clientele at Cool Beans. I refused to think of how screwed up it was that my first venture into socializing in the two weeks I’d been in town was to go home with a strange man in the guise of a dog.

  Pretending to hesitate, I slowly stepped forward. The stranger smiled at me, which I supposed was meant to be encouraging. I took another step, and then another, until I was right under his hand. He slowly lowered it and patted my head, then scratched me behind the ears. Oh, how that felt good. Many of the shapeshifters I’d met claimed it was demeaning to allow a human to pet you as if you really were a “dumb animal,” but I loved it. Whether human or animal, it felt good to be touched by a gentle hand. And it felt good to have an itch scratched that I couldn’t reach. Mark had been great about playing with me and treating me like I really was his best friend when I was pretending to be Angel, and there was a small part of me that missed that.

  The closeness, not the having to live as an animal.

  “Come on, girl. Let’s go get some grub.”

  I yelped to let him know I agreed and he laughed. He had a nice laugh, I noted, and I walked beside him as he started out the way I had come in. It would have been nice if I could have picked up my things on the way, but where would I have put them? I glanced briefly at the spot where I had cast them aside as we passed, noting they were actually sort of hidden from casual glance—there was such an odd mix of detritus on the ground one would have to be standing next to the clothes to notice they were there. Good. It meant there was a decent chance they’d still be here when I came back later.

  My new friend turned out of the alley in the opposite direction of the Motel 6 where I stayed. He hailed an approaching taxi and it drifted to the curb. I stepped back away from it and the handsome stranger turned to me as he opened the back door. “It’s okay girl, get in. We’re going home.”

  I had the sudden and inexplicable wish that he was saying that to me as a woman, rather than as a dog. Shaking myself physically as well as mentally to dispel the disturbing thought, I moved forward and climbed into the back seat of the cab, seating myself directly behind the driver. My companion climbed in behind me and rattled off his address, but the driver didn’t make any move to pull back into traffic. Instead he was staring at me in his rearview mirror.

  “Is something wrong?” my handsome stranger asked.

  “Is…is that a wolf?” the driver wanted to know.

  The stranger looked at me and laughed, then looked back at the driver. “Heavens, no. She’s just a dog—Siberian Husky to be precise.”

  At those words I was hard-pressed not to laugh myself. “She’s just a dog,” he’d said. Oh, how little did he know!

  The driver visibly shuddered, then took the cab out of park, signaling his intent to pull into traffic and saying, “Sure as hell looks like one.”

  We rode through the city in companionable silence, the stranger’s hand absently petting my back. It occurred to me that my decision to accompany him home was incredibly reckless. It might not be safe, as I had promised my brother I would be. And given that I had left home ostensibly to escape the memory of having been gang-raped, the fact that I was going home with a complete stranger—a male stranger—was probably a sure sign that I needed psychological help.

  But I didn’t care. Thus far the stranger had been nothing but kind to me. He’d mouthed off to a huge vampire at risk of his own life, and by God did he have amazing eyes! I had felt drawn in by those eyes, like I could spend hours and hours just staring into them. For one as traumatized as I had been, even I could appreciate the irony of me suddenly wanting to get to know this guy. Problem was, how was I going to go about doing that? He thought I was a dog. I’d already determined that I couldn’t reveal my true nature to him, and given how big the city was, the chances of running into him again were pretty slim. I sighed, resigning myself to spending a few hours in his presence in my current state knowing I was going to have to say goodbye to him before the night was over.

  “What’s the matter, Angel Eyes? You hungry or tired?”

  Surprised by his use of the moniker, one that was so close to the name I’d used as Mark’s guardian, I turned to look at him. On impulse I leaned forward and licked his nose, and he laughed again. I realized I liked his laugh as much as I did his eyes.

  A few minutes later we pulled into an apartment complex. The small patches of grass I could see were neatly trimmed, the buildings in a decent state of repair. In fact, they looked fairly new. After climbing out and moving aside so I could join him, the stranger pulled a wallet out of his back pocket and opened it, pulled out some bills and handed them to the driver, telling him to keep the change as he straightened. Leaning down to ruffle my head, he said, “Come on, girl.”

  He led me into an alcove between two buildings, at which time I saw that they were connected by a set of stairs and a landing on each side. Turning up the steps on the right, he then led me up to apartment E, where he unlocked the door and once again stepped aside, gesturing that I should precede him. One more time I pretended to be hesitant, stepping sl
owly through the door and looking around. His apartment wasn’t very big, but it wasn’t tiny either. To my left was the living room, to the right a dining nook and the kitchen area. Directly ahead was a very short hallway that led into what I assumed was the bedroom, which probably had an attached bathroom.

  “Go ahead and make yourself at home while I get us something to eat,” the stranger said as he closed the door behind him. I turned around and watched him as he moved to the kitchen and opened up the refrigerator. “Don’t have any dog food, of course, seeing as I wasn’t expecting canine company. I don’t suppose you like raw meats, eh?”

  The look on his face as he glanced at me over the refrigerator door clearly said he didn’t expect me to answer, so that’s exactly what I did. I barked at him twice.

  “Is that a yes or a no?” he asked, and so I gave a low growl. He chuckled and shook his head. “No raw meat then, got it. Guess I can fry up this roll of hamburger for you. Or maybe throw in a frozen pizza…”

  I yipped again and he looked at me. “What’re you saying, Angel Eyes? You like pizza?”

  Barking a third time, I danced around to indicate that pizza was acceptable. “Well, maybe you do understand me a little,” my host said then, closing the fridge and opening the freezer, from which he withdrew a DiGiorno triple meat pizza. “Someone obviously taught you what the word ‘pizza’ means.”

  I watched as he set the oven to preheat and removed the pizza from the box. Within a few minutes it was heating in the oven, and he moved over to the couch to wait. Picking up the remote as he sat down, he pressed the power button and turned on the TV, then looked over at me and patted the couch next to him. Once again I shocked myself by suddenly wishing I was in my human form, as his invitation had me imagining he was asking me to come and sit on his lap.

  What the hell is wrong with me? I wondered as I trotted over, circumnavigating the coffee table to hop up on the other end of the couch. Hadn’t I run away from home because I’d been brutalized by two men just two weeks ago? Hadn’t I been leery of even being touched by a man for the last 14 days? Getting involved with someone was the furthest thing from my mind—at least it had been. What in the world was it about this complete stranger that had me imagining, nay hoping, for just such an outcome?

  I turned my head sharply to look at him as a sudden thought occurred to me. Impossible, I mused, even while I studied the lines of his face, noting at least a day’s growth of stubble. It doesn’t happen this way. We don’t feel the imprint unless we’re in human form.

  At least, that’s what I’d been taught—that werekind only imprinted in human form, when a male or female looked into the eyes of their destined mate after they began phasing…the eyes metaphorically being windows to the soul and all that. I knew it was possible my imprint would be a complete stranger to me, but this guy? What the hell were the chances of my meeting the man the magic that made me what I was had chosen for me in the city I had run away to?

  A thought even more disturbing than the fact that I was attracted to my host occurred to me…a memory, actually, of the words of a psychic weredragon I’d met just before the Day of Hell: “He will come to you when your need for him is greatest.”

  Wonderful, I mused bitterly. Though I had serious doubts that the man sitting next to me was the guy I was destined to imprint on, if he was the one, it meant that a storm was on the horizon. I’d already lived through enough horror to last me a lifetime, thank you very much—I didn’t want to go through any more. I honestly wasn’t sure I could handle anything else traumatic without truly cracking under the pressure.

  Besides, I reminded myself, she’d also said that I’d meet him in less than a year’s time—surely she hadn’t meant only three weeks? When I heard that, I’d figured six months, minimum. There was also the fact that she’d told me he would be someone from my past whom I’d once called friend. Though I had thought earlier that he looked familiar, I still couldn’t think of where I might have met this guy before. He must just have one of those faces, I told myself, and with a huff, I decided to push any thoughts of his possibly being my imprint to a far corner of my mind.

  What I really needed to be thinking about was how the hell I was going to get away from him and back to my room. We’d traveled at least three or four miles from where we’d met. Had we walked the entire way to his apartment on foot, I’d possibly have a scent trail to follow. I’d have had to leave in animal form, of course, which would certainly have left him wondering how the hell I’d gotten out. But his inevitable confusion wasn’t my problem. The problem was that we’d come here in a taxi, and I hadn’t been able to memorize any landmarks—not that I’d likely have memorized much anyway. I hadn’t been in Cleveland long enough and I really didn’t know my way around except how to get back and forth from my hotel room to Cool Beans. There was also a convenience store just up the block from the Motel 6 where I could stock up on some of the basics, so I had yet to bother learning where the closest grocery store was.

  Just then the timer went off, and my host got up to get the pizza out of the oven. My stomach grumbled, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten since lunch, and then I’d had only a pretzel. Not nearly enough to feed the beast within, so to speak. When I finally went to sleep tonight, I was going to be truly exhausted, as I was using up all my energy to maintain my dog form.

  Served me right for not phasing regularly or eating properly since the Day of Hell.

  I jumped off the couch and walked toward the kitchen as the delicious smells wafted throughout the apartment. The stranger (by this point I had thought of him as “the stranger” or “my host” so many times I wished he’d have had a reason to let his name slip) was pulling the steaming pie from the oven as I rounded the half-wall and he grinned at me. “Dinner’s ready, Angel Eyes.”

  I howled softly and danced around again. Quick work was made of cutting the pizza into slices. He put one slice on a plate that he plucked from the dish drainer and put it on the floor in front of me. I leaned down and took a good, long whiff—damn did it smell good—then lifted my head and tilted it to the side, looking at him as if to say, “Really? This is all I get?”

  My expression must have been comical, because he laughed as he picked up another slice and bit the tip off of it. After swallowing, he said to me, “Make you a deal, pooch—you eat all that, you get another one.”

  Oh, now he’d challenged me. Bad idea, pal, I thought with amusement as I immediately dove for the hot slice of pizza and began to devour it. Either I was really hungry or I was meeting his challenge like a champion, because I had my first slice gone before he’d eaten half of his. I then sat on my haunches and looked up at him expectantly. Shaking his head, he reached over to the pizza on the counter and grabbed two more slices, laying them down on my plate. I ate these two more slowly, and even though I probably could have eaten another slice or two, when I was finished I simply sat back and whined. All that salt, meat, and cheese had made me thirsty. I hoped he got the point as quickly as he had when I let him know I had no interest in raw meat.

  “What’s the matter now?” he asked. “Still hungry? Or are you thirsty?”

  I barked when he said “thirsty,” and the stranger immediately turned and opened one of the upper cabinets. He pulled a large mixing bowl out and carried it over to the sink, filling it with water and then setting it on the floor next to my empty plate. It was room temperature instead of ice cold, as I preferred to drink water, but I was hardly in a position to complain. It soothed my throat and washed down the pizza just as well.

  Now I just needed him to go to the bathroom or pass out so I could sneak out the door. Though earlier I had thought of how I wanted to get to know him, and certainly how he had come to be involved with vampires, the fact that I couldn’t be entirely certain if he was fully human or two-natured—and my unusual attraction to him—had disturbed me to the point that I just wanted to get out. Let it be one of the mysteries that plagued me as I tried to sleep at night; better to w
onder about some guy I was likely never to see again than suffer the nightmares of the Day of Hell.

  Once I had slaked my thirst, I turned and padded back over to the couch, hopped back up onto the end I had occupied earlier, and laid down, placing my head on top of my crossed forepaws. The stranger picked up the plate I’d eaten off of and put it in the sink, then scooted the bowl of water over to the side so he wouldn’t kick it. He then placed the last of the pizza on another plate, grabbed a Dr. Pepper out of the fridge, and came back over to sit next to me. He warned me in a joking tone of voice that what was on his plate was his and that I wasn’t to touch. I so wanted to roll my eyes, but settled for a huff and simply ignored him.

  ***

  I must have been more tired than I thought, either from my virtually sleepless nights or from having to expend so much energy to stay a dog, because I fell asleep soon after he turned the TV to a football game. I wasn’t much into watching the game when I’d rather be playing it, so I’d closed my eyes thinking I’d get up and sneak out when I heard him go to the bathroom.

  Next time I opened them, however, the TV was off and I was alone in the room, the only light coming from the parking lot lights shining through the blinds on his windows. Thankful that my energy hadn’t run out while I slept and caused me to automatically revert to my human form (as I knew sometimes happened to an exhausted shifter), I raised my head and looked at the clock on his cable box, noting that it was just after midnight. Shit, I thought sourly. None of the busses would be running at this hour and I had no money for a cab—how the hell was I going to get back to my hotel room?