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Lights flashed against the mirrored windows on the businesses across the street as men and women in blue uniforms and gold badges ran between the victims. They looked for life, hope, maybe a miracle, but they would get none.
Inside the shadow pathway, Raine and Dannika’s raw emotions mixed in a gray cauldron of pain. Fear, anger, and disgust all intertwined so completely, Dannika couldn’t tell who they originated from. Raine had warned her mates were entwined, but this was absolute. One being. One soul.
Dannika focused on a detective in a tan overcoat as he approached a victim, taking pictures with his phone. “This is a catastrophe. Why so many?”
“I have no idea. His thirst for power concerns me, but his fascination with you is out of character for a reaper, especially Killian.”
She wrapped her arms around herself, though the shadowy limbs offered no warmth. “Did he really leave a note to ensure that I was safe after killing my mother?”
“Hard to say. The reapers spy on us. It’s just as likely someone heard you tell us about the note. I detected no lie from him, but Killian is a master deceiver. He mixes enough truth in with his lies to trick our shadows.”
She turned to him. “I thought you monitored the shadow pathways. Wouldn’t you know if a reaper penetrated the caves?”
“Normally, yes. But reapers are former shadows. Some were specialists. They do not lose those special abilities when they turn reaper.”
“There’s a reaper that can mask his presence in the pathways?” Dannika asked.
Raine’s shadow tightened around her. “Yes. We’ve tried to take him out for a few years. He is crafty and well protected.”
“What do we do next?” The ice in her heart refused to thaw. Ghostly fingers clawed at the fleshy organ, attempting to take a permanent hold.
“We need to investigate your heritage. Killian’s fascination with you originates from your mother. We must find out who she was.”
Dannika turned around, looking up at Raine. His face could’ve been carved from stone. The pale color, with the flickers of black shadow, made him look like a granite Adonis. “I checked my social worker’s documents. Other than the trail of group homes, she had nothing useful in my file. Just the address for the hospital where I was abandoned.”
Raine focused on the sea of blue uniforms that swarmed over the dead. “Regardless of who your mother was, Killian fixated on her. He wants you, but the question is why? I am concerned you are a stand-in for the object of his obsession?”
“Could just be the whole female shadow thing,” she said.
“I don’t think so. Reapers don’t mate, and Killian wants you for something. He was salivating at the sight of you.”
Ice skated down Dannika’s spine. “Don’t remind me.”
Raine pointed to the detective in the tan overcoat. “He appears to be the lead detective. He is taking photos of all the men, likely for identification purposes. Wait here while I make a few suggestions to him.”
Dannika grabbed his arm when he made a move to exit the shadow pathway, but he dissolved and raced across the grass. Each blade created a tiny shadow, a highway of darkness that led him to his prey.
Dark mist rose from the grass beneath the detective’s feet. He looked around, rubbing his neck uncomfortably as the dark molecules entered his eardrum. His eyes glassed over as all movement ceased.
It was only a matter of seconds. To the surrounding officers, the detective appeared to be looking at his phone. Only Dannika knew his heart had stopped beating. Some kind of stasis locked the detective in place, a rapture created by her mate.
The dark matter exited the detective’s eardrum and returned to the grass below. The detective scratched his ear before returning to his crime scene and taking a picture of a dead referee as if nothing had happened.
Raine raced along the ground and reformed in the shadow pathway’s mouth. His arms encircled her body before he whispered in her ear, “Did you miss me?”
The words enveloped her heart. Despite the grave circumstances, his voice wrapped around her soul, causing her body to come alive. He did that. Always. There wasn’t a moment, good or bad, that Dannika didn’t want to be with him.
“What did you do?” she asked.
“I whispered to him.”
She pointed at the detective, rubbing his chin. “What did that do to him?”
“You’re aware that some shadows have specialized talents. Ones they develop as they mature. Mine is the power of suggestion. If I whisper an idea to a human. More often than not, they will believe the whispers as truth.”
Her eyes widened. “What did you tell him?”
“I suggested this was an organized terrorist attack. My brethren will plant some evidence that supports this theory around town, and I will direct the lead detective toward that theory.”
