Hear No (Hidden Evil, #1) (25 page)

She ran around a corner and found herself in a cornfield, newly harvested. She stopped, lost. The moon was directly overhead, gently illuminating the rolling hills of the farm where she stood. No on else was with her, and she saw no roads, houses or fencing that might help orient her. Cornstalks were outlined with ice from the first frost, and the ground beneath her was hard.

Her breath floated upwards. She watched it and shivered in the still, chilly air.

The red stone was warm, drawing her gaze. She looked down at it. It was casting a light like a laser beam onto the ground. The stone grew hot enough to burn her hand. Dropping it, she knelt hurriedly to snatch it back up.

Shadowman appeared, beating her to it. He grabbed the stone and crushed it in his hand, sprinkling the dust onto the ground.

The earth beneath her trembled in response. It cracked open where he’d laid the dust, and fire shot out. A demon on a red horse burst out of the crack, the second of the archdemons of the Apocalypse.

Amira darted back, taking in what was before her. The flare of light drew her attention to two other people standing nearby, and she squinted to see them. Two girls, one petite with Asian features and another with auburn hair, wore looks displaying the horror she felt. Behind them, hidden by shadows, was Kaylee.

As she had the day she met Shadowman, Amira
heard
his words.

“It’s your turn to feel the fire, Amira.”

He grabbed her and thrust her toward the flames of Hell.

She awoke thrashing and screaming. Her throat burned, even if she couldn’t hear her scream. Shadowman was trying to wrestle her down, and she fought him, rolling with him out of her bed onto the floor. Within seconds, though, it was over. He simply overpowered her and pinned her on her belly on the carpet, his heavy body preventing her from moving.

His breath stirred the hair around her ear. His frame was hot, like the flames of her dream.

Or like that of a spirit guide’s.

Unable to move, Amira struggled to orient herself. She’d left the dream behind and was lying on a floor that smelled dusty, like the rest of Troy’s house. Her body was tense enough from trying to escape that her muscles ached, and her cheeks were wet with tears.

“Troy?” she asked.

He answered with a flare of warm energy like only a spirit guide could give.

Amira relaxed with a sigh, comforted by his body. He shifted off her, taking his warmth with him. The light on the nightstand beside the bed flipped on, and Amira sat.

Troy sat with his back to the nightstand, his legs entangled with hers. He was studying her. With a flare of awareness, she realized he wore no shirt and his sweat pants had ridden dangerously low on his lean hips. His upper body was chiseled, his hair mussed and gaze on her. He was so strong – and in so much pain from the loss of someone he loved.

He waved.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She nodded and wiped the tears from her face. Worried about the stones, she reached up to the bed to grab them from beneath her pillow and held them in her hands, not caring what he thought about her being in a t-shirt and underwear.

“I dreamed Shadowman got us,” she told him. “He opened the portal.”

Troy shook his head. “Won’t happen. You got me and Nathan on this one.”

“I don’t think anything can stop him,” she replied. “Troy, there’s something else about him I didn’t tell you. He’s capable of intelligent decisions and he’s almost strong enough to take human form.”

“You’re saying he sees more than evil?”

She nodded.

“Guardians are different than normal angels,” Troy grew pensive, his thumb tapping her leg.

Sensitive to how close they sat together, Amira’s eyes drifted to the thumb. His hand rested absently on her leg.

“There’s never been a fallen guardian,” Amira said. “And I think … whatever made him fall, was the first step in some much greater evil.” The idea of hurting the humans she loved distressed her, but she feared more what would happen if she revealed the truth behind who Shadowman was.

He waved, drawing her attention.

“His host,” he started. “Guardian angels have different levels of skills and strengths, right? Like spirit guides?”

She nodded.

“What if he’s reflective of his host?”

“What do you mean?” She tilted her head. She hadn’t been able to figure out Kaylee’s involvement.

“I mean, what if this girl he’s linked to isn’t a normal human?”

“I would know if she was an angel, or at least, within the first few generations of being incarnated for the first time.” Amira debated, recalling all she could about the woman she’d met twice. “I’d know if she was another kind of incarnated spirit.”

“What if she was far removed from her first incarnation?” he questioned. “This is the first fallen guardian in the history of the world. Or how about this. What creature from the Other Side has never been incarnated?”

“Archangel!” She sat up. “Is it even possible?”

“Why not?” He shrugged. “If a guardian angel could fall, why not one of the big guys choosing to be incarnated?”

The idea astounded her. The instinct that had been bothering her since meeting Kaylee was at a roar. She was meant to find Kaylee, so Kaylee could find the others. Did the incarnated archangel also have a better chance of controlling – if not stopping – the four archdemons than anyone else? In theory, she’d have a stronger connection with the Other Side than humans and reincarnated angels, maybe even more so than powerful spirit guides.

Amira felt hopeful for the first time since losing Scott. She needed to find Kaylee and warn her, then see what Shadowman’s host could do to help find the other two girls. Maybe, together, they’d be able to stop him.

“We have to tell Nathan!” Amira leapt to her feet and yanked open her door. She dashed down the hallway and stairs to where she’d left her purse after they returned from their second trip to McDonald’s.

Yanking her phone out, she had just pulled up Nathan’s contact information to text him, when Troy rested a hand on hers.

She looked up at him.

“No.” He took the phone from her. One hand rested at the small of her back, his bare upper body resting against her arm. She breathed in his scent once more, liking him better when he smelled like himself and not soap. “This kind of news, we don’t discuss over the phone. Only in person.”

“Oh, okay.”

He took the phone from her and tossed it back into her purse without leaving her side. Amira froze where she was, enjoying the feel of him so close yet not at all certain what to do.

He tilted her chin up.

“You want to get clothes on? You can go like that if you want. I don’t mind.” His eyes went over her body slowly.

Suddenly, she was all too aware that she was in her underwear, standing next to a half-naked man she barely knew. Yes, he was her OTL, but
he
didn’t know that.

The way he looked at her, though, made her wish she’d spent more time learning how to relate to men than hiding her secrets from the rest of the world. Heart pounding, Amira moved away from him. She tugged her shirt down over her rump and hurried up the stairs to her room. With trembling hands, she dressed quickly and grabbed her stones, shoving them into the pocket of her jeans.

When she was ready, she left her room and went downstairs. Troy was in the kitchen in a sweater and jeans that outlined the shape of his frame, from the soft cashmere stretched across his chest to his thick thighs.

The sight of him made her stop in place and wish she had nicer clothes. She’d fled with Scott with all that she could fit in a backpack then sat in a mental health center for a month. She didn’t even have a coat. It was the dog days of summer when she started running.

“You ready?” He met her gaze.

She nodded.

“You have a jacket?”

Amira shook her head.

Troy raised an eyebrow.

“I haven’t been home in two months,” she said. It took effort to say the words through her tight throat. She couldn’t draw a deep enough breath, either.

His look warmed, the skin around his eyes softening. He hesitated then peeled off his sweater to reveal a dark t-shirt underneath. He handed the sweater to her.

She took it, face warm. Amira waited for him to leave the kitchen before she held the bunched up ball of material to her face and breathed in deeply.

It smelled like him, of wood smoke and dark, sweet cologne. She
loved
his scent. Absorbed in it, she didn’t notice he’d returned, until he nudged her.

Amira lowered the sweater quickly and turned, glancing up at him.

“I’m ready,” she proclaimed then went towards the door. She tugged on his sweater as she went, loving the way it still retained some of his heat.

She walked outside and waited for him at the truck. He followed. Moments later, they were on the highway headed south, towards Washington DC. Amira shivered until the cab’s interior was warm. She looked at Troy from the side of her eye. He seemed focused, not like he was interested in talking.

How did one start a conversation with the man meant to be her OTL but who also kind of came across as unapproachable?

Strange lightning lit up the skies to their right. She looked, frowning when she realized there were no clouds. It was the color of a flash of fire, like from her dreams. Amira clutched her hands together.

Troy tapped her, and she looked to him. He turned on the cab light so she could see his lips.

“I’m going to check it out,” he said.

She shook her head.

“It’s okay. I can take care of us.”

You don’t know what you’re dealing with.
She looked away, towards the light.

It stopped, and Troy turned down an intersection to take them closer to the strange sight. It came from the edge of town, in the direction of an empty field near the fairgrounds. It was quiet and dark, and Amira grew tenser the closer they got.

He stopped and pulled off the road. A short distance away, flashes of light were barely visible through the trees.

Troy opened his door, and she looked at him, surprised.

“Glove box.” He pointed.

She opened it and saw it was filled with weapons. At her hesitation, he trotted around the truck and opened her door, leaning over her to grab a knife and gun. He placed the gun at the small of his back and tucked two more magazines into one pocket then clipped two knives to his belt.

Amira shrank away from the weapons, not liking the sight of them.

“You stay here,” he said. “Take this. If anyone not me comes back, point and squeeze the trigger.” He rested a gun on her lap.

She shook her head. “Life is sacred.”

“So is yours. You shoot or you get shot.” He appeared grave, and she thought again about how he was suicidal. What if he didn’t come back, before she had a chance to help him?

“Don’t go,” she said. “Please. Scott died. I don’t want you to die, too.”

Troy offered a quick smile. He reached out and cupped her cheek then pulled her forward, until their foreheads met. The gentle pulse of energy he sent through her was meant as reassurance. He pressed soft, warm lips against her forehead in a light kiss then leaned away.

“This is what I do. I’ll be fine. I’ll be back in forty-five minutes. If not, contact Nathan.” He closed the door.

She watched him, not liking this adventure at all. Amira picked up the gun and replaced it in the glove box. When she looked up once more, there was no sign of Troy.

Tugging her stones free from her pocket, she dumped them into her hand then replaced all but the two-toned one. She gripped it.

Shadowman and his host were close, with the fallen guardian ahead of her and his host on the other side of the town. Amira’s eyes strayed to the steering column.

Troy left his keys. Would he be terribly upset if she took a small detour, while he was busy? She had forty-five minutes, and the host was close enough for her to make it there and back before Troy returned.

She shifted out of her seat and into the driver’s chair then adjusted the seat. Starting the car, she peered outside briefly for movement in the forest indicating he was coming back.

There was nothing.

She flipped on the lights and did a U-turn in the road then headed back the opposite way, the green-blue stone clenched in one hand to guide her. It led her to a small, ranch style house tucked down a long driveway off a side road. Taking a lesson from Troy, she parked on the road a few dozen feet away then got out and looked around.

A car pulled into the driveway, and she ducked behind the truck, hoping the driver didn’t notice her. The vehicle continued and stopped before reaching the house, pulling off to one side of the driveway.

Amira walked along a small path in the trees on the opposite side of the driveway, stepping gingerly through the brush. When she drew abreast of the car, she stopped to see who was in it. There were two figures talking in the car, a man and a woman.

The lights of the vehicle were off, as if they didn’t want the people in the house to know they were there, and they appeared to be hunched over something one of them held between them. The woman was too familiar, and Amira clutched the branch of the tree tickling her neck.

Zyra. The same woman who led the other guides to attack Scott both times.

Close to panicking, Amira sank further into the tree line and continued.

What did Zyra want? Had she sensed Amira here and followed?

Amira’s hand went to the pouch in her pocket. What if Zyra was able to track her through the stones? As far as she knew, there were only four people who could use the stones. What if Zyra had one and figured out how to do the same?

First things first. Get the stones to Kaylee.

Amira went to the back of the house. The host was here, in the kitchen.

Amira scanned the fence around the house and left the trees with some trepidation, aware she was fully exposed. The back gate was open, and she went through it then leaned against the house, so nervous, she almost felt like vomiting.

She tucked the two-toned stone into her pocket and tried to steady her nerves. Where better to hide the stones from Shadowman than in his own backyard, with the host that he would never let anyone get near? If she sought Kaylee’s help to find the others but kept the red-orange one, he’d never be able to find the gateway, even if he got a hold of the rest of them.