Way of the Shadows (Shadow Agents #8)(24)
Author: Cynthia Eden

“You were in the woods.” His voice was flat. Ice cold. “I heard your screams, so I ran to investigate.”

Her knees almost gave way. She grabbed for the mantel and kept one hand around the cover that shielded her.

His hands were fists at his sides. “You were fleeing in the woods. You were hysterical, crying, saying that a man was chasing you.” The faint lines around his mouth deepened in the firelight. “Hunting you.”

Goose bumps rose on her skin.

“I didn’t see anyone, and you… You were too pale. Your pupils were dilated, and I thought—I thought you were on drugs. At first.”

She could only shake her head. But…the doctors had thought she’d been drugged. Rohypnol. Since it could cause memory loss, that had been the drug they suspected the most. And since it could be untraceable in the blood after the passage of time, they’d figured her abductor must have given it to her.

“Then I saw your hands. You had bruises around your wrists. As if you’d been tied up. Restrained.”

Her lungs were starving for air, even though she was breathing as deeply as she could.

“I never expected to find you in those woods. Saving you… It wasn’t my mission, but… I wasn’t going to let anyone hurt you.”

“They found me in the cabin.” His story wasn’t making sense to her. She’d been in the cabin, not out in the open, in the woods.

“Because I took you back there.”

She stumbled away from the mantel. “I was tied up! You did that to me?”

He tried to grab her, but even though she’d craved his touch before, she couldn’t stand it right then.

And she needed clothes.

Clothes!

She spun away from him. Grabbed a flashlight and then she was running up the stairs.

“Noelle!”

Her world was shaking, and she wasn’t going to stand there, naked. She shoved open the door to her bedroom. Her flashlight hit on the bed. It was so cold in there. Icy.

She grabbed for her suitcase, even as she heard him thundering up the stairs behind her. She yanked on her jeans. Pulled on a T-shirt. Didn’t slow down for underwear. Her teeth were chattering. So cold. So cold because—

The window was open.

Noelle froze.

“We’ve started, and we aren’t stopping,” Thomas said as he stormed into her room. “Mercer is going to fire my ass, but I don’t care. I won’t hold back with you any longer. After what happened tonight, I can’t.”

Her flashlight was on the window. “Why is it open?” It shouldn’t be open. It had been locked when they’d left before.

Her light hit the floor. Snow was inside, some melted, some still a hard white.

“Where’s your weapon?” Thomas asked her, voice whisper soft.

The window was open, and it looked… It almost looked as if there were wet boot prints on the hardwood floor.

“Downstairs.” There was no way someone could’ve gotten into the cabin, not while they were there and…making love.

Would I even have noticed an intruder then? No.

Thomas’s hand closed around her arm. “You stay next to me, got it?” He didn’t have his weapon, either. Both guns… They were downstairs. They’d put them aside in their frantic need for each other.

She turned toward Thomas. “Are we alone?” The storm was still raging. The wind was so strong. Maybe—maybe the window had just blown open. She pulled away from Thomas and went toward that window. Shut it. Locked it.

And Thomas was right by her, moving to keep his body beside hers. “We’re about to find out,” he told her, voice still low and soft. “You stay with me, and we’re going to do a full-house sweep.”

“After we get our weapons.” His words about her past were swirling through her mind, but this…new fear was within her. Jenny’s abductor had gotten away. Had he come after them? They went back down the stairs on silent feet. The shadows seemed to stretch all around them.

Noelle’s skin crawled at the thought of someone being in that cabin with them, watching them while they made love.

Thomas’s gun was just where he’d left it. So was hers. When the gun was in Noelle’s hands, she finally felt better. They checked the cabin, moving room by room.

But no one was there.

No other windows were open.

It must’ve just been the storm. The wind…

Thomas headed toward the cabin’s back door.

“What are you doing?” Noelle asked him.

He spared her a brief glance as he shouldered into his coat. He’d already donned his shirt and boots. “I’m checking the exterior perimeter.”

Noelle shook her head. “In this storm? You need to stay inside.” And you need to finish telling me what really happened that long-ago night.

But his jaw was locked and his body radiated determination. “The window was open. I’m making damn sure someone didn’t open it. I want to check outside and see if there are any signs of an intruder.”

“There won’t be any signs. The snow would’ve covered any signs.”

He motioned toward her gun. “Keep your weapon close until I get back.”

No. He wasn’t walking out into that storm without her. “If you’re going, then so am I.”

Thomas shook his head. “I need you to stay inside. The weather is going to be rough enough as it is. One of us has to make sure the interior of this place remains secure.”

“But—”

But he wasn’t listening to her.

Thomas was already gone.

Chapter Seven

Thomas mentally cursed himself as he trudged through the snow. He should never have lowered his guard. For someone to get close enough to the house…to get inside while he was there… Thomas knew he was seriously slipping. That didn’t happen. He was always aware of his surroundings and of any threats that were close.

But when Noelle had kissed him back, when she’d responded so wildly, he’d lost control. He’d taken what he’d wanted for so long.

And he’d been blind to everything else.

Then…hell, he’d revealed too much. Mercer would nail his hide to the wall, but Thomas didn’t care. Noelle deserved to know what was happening. Especially if the past was coming back—and it sure looked as if it was.

He headed around the cabin and shined his light up near Noelle’s window.

Snow covered the area once more, and there was no sign up there anyone had been climbing on the cabin. No sign but…

His light lowered. It hit the ground. The snow was blowing wildly around him, flying hard. He turned to the left because over the howl of the wind, he’d thought he’d heard—