Desired by Shadow (A Shadow Walkers Novel) (7 page)

The tarp was thrown back, startling Maggie out of what could only be called a dead-to-the-world slumber. Couldn’t believe they’d caught her unaware. Hard to remember the last time she’d slept this soundly. She had to talk fast.

“What have we here, lads?” The seaman leered down at her.

“I can explain. I needed to leave Scotland. I want to work—cook, clean, sew, whatever. Please, don’t turn me in.”

“Lass, you’re on a smuggler’s ship, and the captain frowns upon stowaways. You can tell him the tale shortly.”

A smuggler’s ship? There were still pirates sailing the seas? Maybe this was a nightmare?
The sailor helped her up as she blindly reached for the small backpack. Couldn’t be without it, the pack and its meager contents meant a fresh start. Pain radiated down her shoulder and her hand was swollen and throbbing. Maggie stumbled, seeing four blurry men when there were only two moments ago. Hands reached out, steadying her. “Thanks.” The words were garbled, her throat dry and fuzzy.

“Take the wee lass to Captain Robert.”

No way. What were the odds? There were plenty of men named Robert. Had to be just as many who were pirates named Robert, right? This couldn’t be
his
ship. Bruce called him “the pirate,” but certainly this was coincidence. If Maggie got out of this alive, she was having a serious talk with the Universe about what she’d done to piss off the fates.

The turns twisted and meandered around until they reached the end of a passageway and the sailor knocked at a closed door.

“Enter.”

The voice was warm, sexy, and masculine and made her want to curl up inside it, safe and sheltered from everything bad. The door swung open and Maggie was shoved into the room. Shapes came slowly into view in the dim light as her vision cleared. And what did she see but long, jet-black hair framing a model’s face.

His face
. Freshly showered, kicked back in a chair drinking a cup of tea looking none the worse for wear other than a raw rope print around his neck. The dangerous man she’d rescued at Edinburgh Castle stalked towards her.

Fate had a seriously twisted sense of humor.

Dante/Import Export was in chaos. “Where is she? How the hell did she escape?” Bruce yelled at his men gathered in the kitchen. Maggie had been discovered missing at breakfast. The door to her room still locked from the outside. His men searched the townhouse from top to bottom without finding any clue to her whereabouts. Solien would be furious. Bruce quailed, thinking about what would happen when the demon found out. She was supposed to be dead by now.

“Uh, sir? I think I know where she went.”

This statement was uttered by a timid voice behind him. Turning around, his gaze landed on a new recruit.

“Who are you?”

“Uh, Josh, sir. I’m new.”

The recruits were getting worse and worse if this one was any indication. The criminals were good choices, but these boys always ended up being a waste of space and resources. He smoothed his hair back. Simple solution, send the rookies out first, if the buggers were killed, no big loss, he’d recruit more. The boy called Josh couldn’t have been more than twenty-six or -seven. He was short, and painfully thin with greasy brown hair and a sneaky look permanently etched on his face.

“Well, come on, lad, I don’t have all day. Where the hell is she?” Bruce stood glaring, arms crossed.

The little bug stuttered. “Ned and I were talking at breakfast this morning and he told me he saw Maggie leaving late last night when he was doing his rounds.” The boy pointed to the one called Ned. Bruce wanted to scream in frustration. He wanted strong men not these boys cowering before him. These two not only would never last as minions, due to this treachery their life was forfeit, unbeknownst to either of them.

Turning to Ned, Bruce leveled his most ferocious look at the kid. Before he could say a word, Ned jumped in. “She wanted to go for a walk, swore she’d be back by morning. I’m not sure Maggie is mentally ill. Seems pretty normal to me.”

Eyebrows raised, he glared at the kid. “All the patients here are disturbed, some less than others but still, they have issues. The front door is bolted shut she couldn’t have used it.”

The boy stuttered. “Uh, she wanted to explore the tunnels.”

Motioning with his fingers to get on with it, the recruit told his tale.

“I was checking to make sure everything was locked up before I went to bed last night. I heard a noise coming from the storage room. Maggie was in there. There’s a grate in the wall behind the cleaning cart. It goes to the sewer system.”

Narrowing his eyes, Bruce wanted to haul off and smack him. “How do you know this, and
where
is she?”

Gulping, eyes twitching, Ned answered. “I used to work at the hostel where she’d crash sometimes. There was a similar opening in the laundry room. I told her how you could basically get all around Edinburgh completely underground by using the tunnels. The main tunnel leads to Edinburgh Castle. Maggie said she wanted to explore, so maybe she went to the castle. From there she could go anywhere, but she’s probably holed up in a hostel or an abandoned building.”

Josh sneered. “Stupid idiot. Who lets someone go out through a grate in the middle of the night? You had to know what she was up to.”

“We’re Maggie’s friends.”

“Friend?” Josh sneered. “I’m not her friend. She was dumb enough to let me live with her. She deserved what she got.”

Without warning, Ned turned and slugged Josh, sending him to his knees.

“Ow! What the hell, dude?” A few of the men broke it up before Ned could land another punch. Josh looked like he was holding back tears, his face blotchy and red.

Nodding at his men, two of them grabbed Josh, and two took Ned who had murderous intent written all over his face. “While I appreciate your telling me, you should have immediately told whoever was on guard duty as soon as it happened. Hold Josh.” Stepping up to the scarred kitchen table, Bruce selected a sharp knife from the locked drawer. “Ned. Place your hands on the table.”

The kid turned pale as milk. “Please, don’t hurt me. I told you everything I know. It was a mistake, I won’t make it again.”

“No you won’t. But stupidity will be punished. We must always remember to keep our residents safe.” He brought the knife down hard on the kid’s right hand taking off his ring and pinky finger. The crunch of steel meeting bone was loud in the silent kitchen. Ned screamed in agony as blood ran down the table, dripping on the floor. The boy’s eyes were glazed in pain, tears streaming down his face as he faintly struggled to pull away.

“Take him upstairs to the doc and have him cleaned up. Ned?” The boy looked at his shoes unable to meet Bruce’s eyes.

“There will be an extra helping at dinner for you tonight. Rest and heal. I need every man I can get. Are we clear?”

Ned nodded. Softly sobbing he let Bruce’s men lead him away.

“Now Josh, Ned volunteered information while you…” He trailed off as the scared kid threw up all over the floor.

“Great. Throw a towel down before we all puke.” Disgusted, Bruce continued, looking at his men and noting the pale faces. Scared. Good. He wanted them afraid. “Josh, do you have anything to say as to why you didn’t come forward earlier with the information regarding our dear Maggie?”

Josh mumbled incoherently, breaking down and crying. “Please, don’t hurt me. I didn’t do nuthin’. Please, don’t.”

Bruce yawned. “Let this be a lesson to all of you. I will not tolerate letting anyone escape or not coming forward with information in a timely fashion. Understood?” He met every man’s eye as they nodded one by one. “Take Josh down to the basement. Then find Maggie. We’ll make an example of her to the others.” As the men left, he called out. “And find me some new blood. Too many empty beds upstairs.” Bruce scratched his head. He had to think about how he could spin this to Solien without blame falling on him. Pointing at two of his men, “You two. Go check the hostels and abandoned buildings where she used to hide out. I don’t have to tell stress the importance of finding her. Failure is not an option.” He glared at the men.

“Failure is not an option pertains to what, may I ask?” A silky, venomous voice made Bruce’s balls shrink up.

This was not good. Not at all. Solien was here. The guy scared the piss out of Bruce. The thing wasn’t human. If he remembered his old Sunday school lessons, this thing had to be some kind of demon. Solien could do all kinds of crazy shit like shooting fire from his fingers and incinerating people on the spot. The man usually looked human, well, if you could call seven-feet tall with black eyes, human. Except when he got angry, then big black leathery wings unfolded and his skin turned green. He disappeared and appeared at will; it was downright freaky.

Bruce told his knees to stop shaking. “The last woman, Maggie, escaped last night, sir. I’m preparing to send out a search party. We’ll find her and bring her back.”

“You only noticed her missing this morning? Seems you’ve become rather lax with your security.”

His men were frozen, faces drained of color. Afraid to draw attention to themselves. Bruce knew how they felt, imagined he looked the same way. When he’d looked in the mirror that morning he’d noticed his once thick black hair getting noticeably thinner, graying. His face looked hollow and drawn. Before he could answer, Solien spoke again.

“Yes, you will find her. I’m sending someone with you to ensure you stupid humans don’t screw it up.”

Bruce’s ass puckered as Solien named the newest addition to their search party. Fury. Fuck me. He’d never met it, only heard unbelievable stories from others. A fucking savage if the rumors were true. He could only be thankful it wasn’t him searching for Maggie with that beast tagging along. He’d be lucky if any of his men returned. The monster would likely murder them all for the fun of it.

Solien made a moue of distaste, noticing the vomit on the floor. “Have this cleaned up, I can’t abide a filthy kitchen.” With that, the boss man disappeared.

The door banged open. Bruce’s man, Martin, skidded to a stop in front of them. “You better get out here Bruce. There’s a giant-ass, three-headed, talking dog in the living room and he’s asking for a keg of beer.”

“Oh hell, it
is
you.”

Speak of the devil. Before Robert could retort, his mysterious runaway fainted, landing in a heap at his feet.

Catching her as she fell, the corner of his lip twitched. Now this he was used to—women falling at his feet. Warm in his arms, he laid her on the bed and placed his hand on her forehead. She was burning up.

“Cold water. Now.” Barking out orders, he sent his men scurrying to do his bidding.

The men left as Robert undressed her. What was her name? Who was she? When he removed her hoodie he noticed the tear in the shoulder. Looking at her tee shirt he noted the blood. He’d missed it on her dirty, stained sweatshirt. The blood blended in with the grime coating the filthy garment. Lifting her up to remove the hoodie, unconscious, limp in his arms, it was like undressing a dead man.

The bra and panties she wore were basic white and dingy. No lace, silk or satin for this one. Strange, he never thought he’d find such utilitarian undergarments sexy but on her, he had a hard-on looking at her. The mystery woman was all lush curves with bountiful breasts a small waist and wide hips like some ancient fertility goddess. Women’s bodies were a majestic sight. Telling himself it was wrong to lust over her when she was unconscious, he threw the clothing in a pile to be burned. It stunk so badly, the smell would never come out in the wash. A skunk would run from this stench. The bed sheets would have to be burned as well. But first he had to tend the wound.

In the past he’d had to throw out bed coverings after they’d been ripped to shreds during lovemaking but never from someone stinking them up. The corner of his mouth lifted and a chuckle escaped thinking how horrified she’d be to know he thought she smelled, women were funny that way.

Robert covered her with a sheet. Stink and all, he wanted to know her name, her thoughts, why she’d helped him. Shelving the thoughts for another time—wasn’t like he could bloody well ask her, he bent back to her injuries.

Leaning down to inspect her shoulder, he stiffened. The wound was about six inches long, and bleeding profusely. A knife wound from the looks of it.

Bellowing for his cabin boy, Ian came running, breathless as he waited for Robert’s orders. “Bring me bandages and salve from the infirmary.”

The woman’s face was clenched in pain. The circles under her eyes standing out like hard-won bruises. Pouring a whisky, knocking it back, he rested his chin on his palms, elbows digging into his knees, deciding what to do with her. Still angry she’d interfered, his chivalrous self warred with his hedonistic, selfish side. The wench didn’t know she was doing the worst possible thing for him by cutting the rope. She thought she was saving his life when in fact she’d ruined it as far as he was concerned. Gods, he loved women, but the repercussions from this simple altruistic act were bigger than any foe he’d ever come up against. Robert cursed, kicking a booted foot into the bedpost.