Lost in Shadow (A Shadow Walkers Ghost Novel) Page 9

  “Hamish, my love, let’s depart this dreadful place. I want that horrible painting of Colin burned immediatley.” Abigail stamped her tiny foot and flounced out of the dungeon.

  “Rawlins, have this bloody, revolting mess cleaned up.” Turning on his heel as Colin shuddered with his last gasping breath, blood dripping on the damp stone floor; Hamish strode out of the dungeon, wiping the bloody ring clean before sliding it onto his finger.

  Leaning against the far wall, Rawlins looked disgusted. Instead of calling for the guards to dispose of Colin’s body, he removed the manacles, lowering the warrior to the floor. “In another life baron, I think we might’ve been mates.”

  Colin was moaning, thrashing about, in the throes of a nightmare while unconscious. On the bright side, at least he wasn’t dead. She’d kept him warm against her, promising anyone who was listening she’d give up chocolate, Pepsi, and wine if they’d let him be okay and get them out of here.

  Swearing, Colin couldn’t hear over the infernal racket. And why was water dripping on him—were they going to drown in this godforsaken tunnel? Sitting up, his head spun.

  “Wait, you’re hurt. A rock hit you on the head. There was so much blood, I tried to stop it but you wouldn’t wake up.” Drying her eyes and hiccupping from crying, Emily helped Colin sit up.

  “I thought you were lost in the shadows, it’s been so long—I can’t find any way out, there’s an awful scrabbling noise. I think the rats are back. It’s terrible having an overactive imagination. I’m not normally such a mess but I kept thinking the rats would get in and eat us alive.” This last bit was said on a particularly unladylike hiccup as Emily pulled herself together.

  “Do you think you can stop hiccupping so I can listen for this scratching you heard? Shall I scare you to make the hiccups stop?” Colin smiled thinking how brave she was, taking care of him while she was afraid. She was strong whether she believed it or not.

  Listening, he could hear faint noises. This was good; the rats knew how to get out. If he could pinpoint where they were, there was a chance he could find a way to escape. Hell, being trapped while he was injured afforded him some peace from worrying about the bloody Day Walkers killing him while he recovered.

  Deciding the noise was coming from the right of them, Colin started digging, removing stone, placing it on the path behind them. If the Day Walkers found the entrance, at least they’d have to remove the stone. They couldn’t materialize past it since they couldn’t see where they were going. You had to know where you were going or you might end up embedded in a wall. While it wouldn’t kill you, it might be a hell of a long time before you got out.

  “Let me help.” Emily started prying the rock and stone loose.

  The bloody stone was heavy; his arms were straining. Pulling a particularly heavy chunk out of the debris, Colin jerked as another rib broke. It must have been fractured and snapped from the strain. He stopped a moment as dizziness and nausea threatened to make him look like a girl.

  Gah, damnit to hell, it hurt like a bitch. Focus, you prissy girl, keep going, ignore the pain.

  “Ouch!” Emily winced next to him.

  Taking her hands in his, Colin examined her fingers; she had snapped off or ripped off each nail down to the quick trying to help remove the stone. “Lass, stop, you’ve destroyed your pretty nails. I liked the color, reminded me of a bronze shield I once had.” Anger filled him; she’d been injured because of him. If she hadn’t trusted him, none of this would have happened. She’d never cried out; simply kept digging. She had a spine of steel which he admired.

  “They don’t hurt anymore.”

  “You’re in shock. Now lean as close to the wall as you can.” With a grunt and a heave, the boulder came rolling past her to land at their feet. Air came rushing in, along with the sound of…rats.

  “I’ve never been so happy to hear those dirty little creatures.”

  Reaching for Emily’s hand, Colin first had to wipe his hand and forearm off on his kilt; he must have re-opened one of his injuries, it was bleeding again. He didn’t care about the blood, he didn’t want to worry Emily.

  “It’s another tunnel. We’ll follow the rats to safety. Take my hand; it’s tall enough we can stand up.”

  In the darkness, he felt her wince as she placed her hand in his. Stopping, he cursed. He should have taken care of her when he realized, not waited. Ripping what was left of his tattered shirt, he bound her hands to cushion the tender fingertips.

  “There, there, this will help. Once we are safe, we’ll have them tended to. Are you okay?” He stroked her cheek.

  “I feel numb.”

  “Most men would have screamed like girls—ripping a fingernail off hurts like hell.” Admiration filled his voice.

  She sniffed, “I don’t feel very brave.”

  Turning a corner, air blew in ruffling their hair, the sound of water trickling by their feet, the rats scurrying to freedom. Ahead, he could make out a dim light. Reaching the end of the tunnel, they came to a stone wall. The rats were scurrying out; air and water coming in…there had to be a door here somewhere.

  Excitement filled his voice, “Feel every inch of the wall…” Colin paused for a moment thinking of earlier, her warm hand on his thigh…what it would be like to have her hands exploring every inch of his body. Mentally eye rolling, he continued, “There has to be a lever in the stone we can press to free us.”

  Exploring every inch of the wall, a thud sounded as Colin pushed in on a stone rosette. Light flooded into the space as Colin pushed with all his might, the heavy door swinging open, leading them outside into the late afternoon.

  Sagging with relief, Emily wheezed. “You distracted me so I wouldn’t flip out. You’re nice when you’re not being grumpy.”

  Hugging Colin tight, she stood on her tiptoes, kissing his cheek. “Thank you.”

  Desire surging, his control snapped, pulling her tightly against him, he captured her mouth in a demanding kiss, invading her with his tongue, bruising her lips; he wanted to crawl inside her, take her there against the stone wall, on the banks of the water.

  Arching against him, she ran her hands over his back and arms, feeling his strength, his wounds—and the blood. A bucket of cold water would have had the same effect. She pulled away, “You’re bleeding and badly injured, we have to find help.”

  “Damn the bloody injuries.” Growling at the distance between them, he shook his head to clear it. The worry on her face brought him back to his senses.

  “Aye, we need tending, though I’d rather stay here and kiss you senseless. We’re close to the Black Swan. It will be safe for a bit, we can get you bandaged up, a hot meal, drink, and then rest. In the morning I’ll arrange a ship and we’ll set sail up the coast, somewhere safe.”

  Daylight was fading, the late afternoon shadows would help hide them from prying eyes. There was a path running along the water, ending at the back door of the Black Swan. Robert could help them with a ship. They’d go to Ravensmore. Fury ignited him, thinking of Rawlins and others trying to hurt Emily.

  The thought kept eating at him. They couldn’t know about the curse, what it meant, could they? He’d cut down every last sonofabith before he’d let any of those filthy bastards lay a hand on a single strand of Emily’s hair.

  MINE…no one would touch his woman.

  Chapter 10

  Arriving at the Black Swan Tavern, exhausted, injured, and dirty, they made their way to a dimly lit table in a back room.

  “Colin. Bloody hell, what happened? The two of you look like something the cat wouldn’t bother dragging in.” Henry, the proprietor of the tavern, welcomed them.

  “Here, here, sit down. I’ll have a room prepared, let me bring you some food, in the meantime, shall I call a doctor?” He wrung his hands.

  “Nothing to worry over, a few scrapes. Would you call Robert? Ask him to meet us here, we need a ship.”

  “You don’t have a phone? How can you not have a phone?” Emily was sh
ocked. She’d been missing hers since the whole dungeon incident. Wanted to buy a replacement as soon as possible.

  “Sometimes lass, I wish it was still 1644, I hate technology. Despise all the noise and people rushing to and fro. The past had a rhythm, a cadence—‘twas easier in some regards. And yes, I do have, a mobile but I don’t always carry it with me…when I do, ‘tis for my convenience, not to be at the beck and call of others.” She watched Colin shove his hands through his hair in frustration. He blinked, looking sheepish, “I concede to you it would be rather useful at this juncture.”

  She grinned at him. “OK, you made your point. We can pick one up tomorrow.” Before she could continue, Henry’s wife, Sally, brought them ale, bread, and cheese. “Poor things, you look half dead. Eat, drink, and then we’ll get you to your room. I’ve had bandages, water, and fresh clothes sent up for you.”

  “Aye, thank you Sally, you’re a good woman.” Falling on the food like wild dogs, they quickly ate.

  “Henry can be trusted. He helps us as his father and his father before, and so on, have done for centuries.”

  Nodding, with a mouthful of roll, she asked, “Who’s Robert?”

  “He was called the Prince of Pirates, the most dreaded pirate on the seas before he was hanged at Edinburgh Castle, a few days after I was killed.”

  With a loud bang, the door was flung open; Emily stopped in mid-chew—the man striding in had to be at least six feet tall. Super-white teeth, long, jet black hair, and his face—he could have graced the cover of any magazine with indigo blue, piercing eyes, he looked like some hedonistic model carved from stone.

  “Came as soon as I heard, mate, dreadful bit of trouble from the looks of it…you look like shite.” He clapped Colin gently on the shoulder, mindful of his injuries.

  The man gave Emily an appraising look, “Allow me to introduce myself; I am Robert Bartholomew of Wales, at your service, Madam.”

  She stared at him open-mouthed. Wow, what a charmer.

  “Lass, you look like you’re about to fall asleep in the remains of your dinner. Colin—you look like death warmed over, though nothing a night won’t cure. Never seen you out to dine with a woman.” He smirked.

  Emily caught the look Colin shot Robert but didn’t know what it meant. Before she could ask, Colin continued. “Robert, this is Emily.” Colin introduced her, speaking around a mouthful of cheese.

  Yawning, she greeted him.

  “Gods Colin, the lass looks like she’s about to fall asleep on her feet. Not looking too good yourself, my friend. Want to enlighten me?”

  “Not particularly. Let’s just say I willna be healing tonight.” Swaying on his feet, Colin was losing consciousness as Emily and Robert helped him to the stairs. She’d resisted Robert’s offer to carry her.

  “Robert, back the hell off.” Colin ground out before he lost consciousness.

  “So that’s how it is, I see. Let me take him, lass. We’ll have plenty of time to get acquainted once on my ship.”

  Moving up the stairs, a buxom waitress blocked their path. “Oy, is he okay? We don’t want no drunkards in here. He’s not sick is he? The woman, named Mary, peered closer at Colin. Robert stepped in blocking her view from them, “He lost badly gambling and had the piss kicked out of him. Now run along Mary and fetch us some whisky. He’s in enough trouble with the missus.” Winking at Emily, he turned back to Mary and pinched her bottom. “Come on up later, and I’ll show you how appreciative I am.” Mary twittered, attention diverted from Colin, and ran off to do his bidding.

  “You do realize now they think I’m married to Colin? What will they think when we’re in separate rooms?”

  “Milady, Colin will have my head if he’s away from you, anyways, there’s only one room free. Now let’s get your wounds cleaned.”

  The rooms were on the top floor and seemed clean enough, but she wasn’t sure what was real and what was hallucination. People always said bad things came in threes, well then, given everything that had happened, things were bound to improve. Tired, Emily wanted to rest, but was she dreaming? Dreams usually didn’t come with the smell of unwashed bodies, huge rats, and blood—a nightmare then. She had to face the truth, there was much more in this world than she thought. She’d been thinking about “ghosts” ever since Colin told her what he was, telling her brain to accept the fantastic tale. Not sure whether to be happy it was true or scared to death at what might happen next, she wanted to accept what she had seen and heard. Goosebumps covered her arms thinking about their ordeal.

  Her throat closed up, she had trouble breathing. Remembered dropping to her knees with gratitude when they’d emerged from the tunnel. The walk to the tavern helped calm her a bit, and she was starved by the time they’d been served dinner. She hadn’t eaten anything since Halloween night, well, except for a few chia seeds. She was tired, her nerves frayed. Her world had been turned upside-down in the space of a few days. So no wonder she had visions of bed bugs crawling all over her as she looked over the room.

  “Wait a minute. Robert? Colin mentioned a ship as well. What do you mean ‘your ship’?” Where the heck were they planning to take her?

  Colin mumbled something unintelligible. Robert raised his eyebrows and translated. “Apparently you’re both in a bit of danger, yes?” She nodded and he continued. “Right. We’re sailing to Ravensmore Castle. It’s safe there, and whoever is after you will have a rather difficult time figuring out where you’ve gone. The journey will take two days to get to Colin’s home, and he’ll want to keep you there a few more days to make sure you’re out of danger. I don’t see any luggage, lass.”

  Her shoulders slumped. “My purse, phone, and money were lost between the dungeon and the cave-in. My luggage is at the hotel. We’ll need to get it, and I want to make a call to let my friend know I’m OK.” She wanted to call Kat to let her know she was fine. Back home she’d never leave on a ship with a virtual stranger—but here, in Scotland, meeting Colin. Things were different. Her entire world changed. She’d navigate it as best she could. Felt she’d known Colin for a long time, it was hard to explain. Anyway, she wanted to visit Ravensmore. Looked like she’d get her chance. Thinking positive thoughts, she decided to make the best of a situation with ghosts and crazy people intent on murder.

  Moving into the room, Colin collapsed onto the bed; burning up with fever and semi-conscious. Noticing her hands, Robert sat Emily down in a chair to have a look. “Emily, let me see. We need to tend you first.”

  “Can’t we call a doctor?”

  “No, better not, now let me.” Sucking in a breath he told her, “I’m amazed you’re still standing. Though I think the cut on your cheek adds to your beauty.”

  Rolling her eyes, she heard him laugh, the big ol’ charmer.

  Gently, he took her hands in his, the air around her grew warmer, her fingers tingled, silver light spilled out from his hands, and a low electrical hum filled the air. Releasing her hands, he did the same for the cuts on her arms and cheek. Finished, he patted her shoulder, stood and went to build up the fire.

  “Best keep this to ourselves, aye?”

  Speechless, she examined her hands. Each of her missing and broken nails—healed. Shiny, pink and no longer tender to the touch. Astonished, she looked at him. “How? Is this part of the Shadow Walker thing? But then why didn’t Colin do it? I don’t understand…”

  “He told you about us?” The look of incredulity on his face was almost laughable.

  “Yes, it’s a long story.”

  Robert stopped her. “I suppose it is. Though it’s starting to make sense. Let’s just say Colin would have healed you if he could. The reason is his to tell.”

  A knock at the door brought Mary with the water and whisky. Robert had a roaring fire going, “Emily, bring the water here, we’ll set it to boil. Can ye sew?”

  “Oh no, not really, other than making a pillow in school, haven’t ever really had to know how.”

  Robert raised his eyebrows at he
r, “Funny how the world changes, sewing used to be a skill every lass knew, now, I’d reckon very few know how to sew.”

  She had to ask, “How old are you?”

  “Well, milady, I’m a few years older than Colin, I look pretty damn good for my age, don’t I?” He chuckled at her surprised look.

  “I, um, well, I, um, just, don’t know what, um, to say,” she stammered. Jeez, was everyone hundreds of years old? Didn’t they make young Shadow Walkers?

  She would grow old while he would stay the same. Being a bit vain, it bothered her more than she thought it would. Best not to worry about it, you don’t even know if he’s interested in you for anything longer than a night.

  “Don’t fret milady, let’s get Colin taken care of.”

  Stripping Colin out of the tattered remains of his kilt, she tried not to look but had to catch her breath. He had broad shoulders, tapering to a narrow waist showcasing muscles that came from hard work and swinging a sword. These weren’t gym muscles, no way, sister; these were amazing, corded, rock-hard muscles, and they ran straight to a large cock and heavily muscled legs. Covering him with a towel from the waist down, she quickly averted her gaze from his fantastic package. Staring at the scars covering his chest and stomach, her gut heaved when she realized how many battles he must have seen over the years.

  “Like what you see, do you?” Colin came to and peered at her through his inky, long lashes. A wolfish grin on his face. “Keep looking at me like ye want to devour me lass, I’ll have to lose the towel and oblige ye.” Colin rumbled, low in his throat. She noticed when he was tired, injured, or angry, his accent was more pronounced. She loved his voice.

  “Hmmph, I was just noticing all the scars, no need to have your head get any bigger.” Emily sniffed, her face flaming, as she prepared the water and cloths to clean his wounds. Robert threw back his head and roared with laughter.

  Scowling at him, she busied herself inspecting Colin’s arm. It looked awful, encrusted with dried blood and dirt, swollen and bruised. It made her squeamish, light-headed simply looking at it.