Shadow Kissed 03 - Shadowman
there, heâd obligingly filled her head with his illusions. Heâd said everything she wanted to hear, promised a prize interview with the elusive Talia Thorne. And after one conversation with Adam her welcome at Segue was assured, when Adam had been so vehement only moments before about getting rid of her.
Kathleen OâBrien. Taliaâs mother.
No.
It was ridiculous.
They were trying to control her.
âStay away from me.â She swatted at the Shadow still hanging in the air.
âWhy do you think you were drawn here? Why endanger yourself for the wraiths when there are so many other things you could do with your life?â
She wasnât going to listen. âYou guys are screwed up.â
Layla gathered the stack of books. She was going back to her room, where she would think of what to do next.
âLayla!â
She walked briskly down the hallway. Sheâd seen and experienced enough in the last twenty-four hours to know that the paranormal existed alongside this world, and that she was involved somehow.
But this was too much. This was personal.
The hallway grew dark, but she ignored it. Ignored him. Was it even possible to have a relationship with that . . . creature?
She turned the corner to the elevator just as Talia stepped out. A bright smile lit her face. âYou going somewhere?â
âForgot something in my room,â Layla mumbled. The soul ache flared, and not even holding her breath would dampen it. Talia. Her daughter from another life? Riiight.
âThen Iâll see you back here . . . ?â
âYeah, sure,â Layla lied and punched the button.
Little lines of worry formed between Taliaâs brows as the elevator doors closed. Well, Talia would just have to deal. Better yet, she could ask her father what was wrong. As far as Layla knew, he was still down there.
Or, oh, God, maybe he was in the elevator.
She hugged herself tight.
She had to find Zoe. Zoe hated the Thornes. Everyone could see that. If anyone would give her a straight answer, it was she. Although . . . she had been the one to tip her off about Khan. Did she even have a sick sister?
When the elevator doors opened she took the right-hand hallway, not the left. To the west wing.
Layla would see for herself.
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âWhat did you do?â His daughter slowly turned to address the Shadow in the corridor. Her pale hair whipped in the churn of her panic.
Do? I told her the truth.
âShe just got here!â
And Fate is conspiring at this moment to take her away.
A human man exited his office, blanched in fear of the gathered storm, then darted right back inside.
Talia jabbed a finger in the air and spoke through clenched teeth. âThis is family business. Iâm going back to my apartment, and you will meet me there. Because Iâll be damned ââher voice rose, took on the shattering quality of a bansheeââif Iâm going to let you screw this up for me.â
She turned to the elevator and slapped the button, then waited, glowering in Shadow, for the vehicle to come.
Khan sensed Laylaâs soul light above, moving briskly. Heâd intended to push her, whether she was frustrated or not. She wasnât a weak woman, and they had so little time. Kathleen had taught him how each beat of time was precious.
But he hadnât intended to hurt Layla, and though he tried, he couldnât fathom the turn of her mind that had sent her fleeing from him. It wasnât his claim on her. That had only shocked her. And he knew, though she might not admit it to herself, that she was intrigued and aroused by him. He had only to stoke that fire, and she would be his.
So what had gone wrong? Sheâd come back to Earth for Talia, so rediscovering her connection to her daughter should only be joyful. An end to her loneliness.
He didnât understand. Mortal men had declared womenâs minds a mystery. He agreed. Perhaps Talia could shed light in his darkness.
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The elevator doors slid open. A long, quiet hallway stretched before Layla, the rug a classic red, beige doors with white trim off to each side. Crap. Which floor, which door would lead to Zoe?
She stepped out and knocked on the first one. Waited. No answer. Knocked again. Somebody was going to open up or sheâd kick it in. She rapped again, harder. Waited.
Down the hallway, a door opened. A woman leaned out in a bathrobe with a towel turban on her head.
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