Shadow Kissed 03 - Shadowman

good, that was certain.
    So Shadowman answered with a question of his own. “And if it were your Annabella?”
    Custo went silent, breathing deeply, thinking of the beautiful ballerina who was his wife. It didn’t take long for his mouth to twist.
    â€œIt hurts you even to think of it, yet Kathleen is there, right now.”
    Custo closed his eyes. “There has to be a reason . . .”
    â€œ. . . for her to bear pain and despair unending?” Shadowman’s arm ached with the burden of the hammer. The sinews and muscles strained to hold it, but he held fast to his human form. He had a gate to finish. “And you could tolerate this for Annabella while you had the means to save her?”
    â€œOh, God. I gave you the means. Oh, shit.” Selfrecrimination threaded through Custo’s distress. “That makes me responsible.”
    â€œThen see it through.”
    kat-a-kat-a-kat-a-kat
    Shadowman turned to regard the gate. At his side, Custo did the same. The potent menace coming off the thing was palpable. Shadow shimmered against the hellthrob of his creation. A gate to Hell, forged by Death.
    Shadowman felt the moment Custo came to a decision, his hard resolve overcoming the wilder emotions.
    â€œI begged for a day once, and that’s what I’ll give you,” Custo said. “Then I swear I’ll bring the angels. We will rip it apart, even if you, Kathleen, or . . . or . . . even Annabella are behind it. It is wrong. You fae obviously have trouble telling the difference.” kat-a-kat-a-kat-a-kat
    Right? Wrong? Shadowman didn’t care. Death, by nature and necessity, was numb to such considerations.
    â€œI don’t require your permission, boy.” The pain of his grip on the hammer crawled over his shoulder.
    â€œMark my words,” Custo said, summoning Shadow to depart. “The angels are coming.”
    â€œMark mine,” Death returned. “I’ll have her back.”

Chapter 2
    A rustle in the brush snapped Layla Mathews’s attention from the quiet hulk of The Segue Institute’s main building to the dense trees on her right. Wraith. She held her breath, willing her heartbeat to silence, lowered her camera, and put a hand to the gun ready on the earth in front of her. Steady . . .
    She waited for movement. Strained for the telltale screech that meant trouble.
    Keep it calm. . . .
    But heard only the kat-a-kat-a-kat-a-kat of the now chronic tinnitus in her head.
    Nothing. Her gulping heartbeat slowed.
    Seconds passed. A breeze hit the November trees, and the leaves chattered in the wind.
    Still nothing.
    Okay. Back to work. She was going to get a photo of Talia Kathleen Thorne if it killed her. A clear shot, in high-res. The follow-up segment to her wraith series wouldn’t be complete without it.
    Thick trees and tangled thatches of undergrowth concealed Layla’s crouch. Adrenaline still flashed through her veins now and then, but her tush and toes had long since gone numb. She hoped the adrenaline would make up for her stiffening body if trouble found her, and she tried not to think about how she was meeting it halfway.
    The Segue Institute, located deep in the West Virginia Appalachians, might seem too peaceful for a war zone. But she knew better. The wraith war was one of long silences, broken with sudden, violent terror, but she was going to get the photo she’d come for, frigid wraith-infested mountain or not.
    kat-a-kat-a-kat-a-kat
    Layla shook her head. The metallic, rattling sound in her ears had been driving her crazy for a while. Had to be a side effect from the blow to the head she’d taken in Tampa, trying to get some video inside what she thought was an empty wraith nest. The nest was not so empty.
    kat-a-kat-a-kat-a-kat
    She focused on her target. Shadows pooled around the renovated turn-of-the-century hotel that now housed Segue, though the ineffectual sun was directly overhead. It kind of reminded her of an Escher drawing of a castle: The veranda stairs plunged into a bent twist of darkness, the darkness giving way to whitewashed, starkly delineated walls, which took a sharp turn into darkness again. It was an upside-down kind of building. Tugged at her mind. Tugged hard.
    â€œYou’re seeing things, Layla,” she said to herself. The cold wait had to be getting to her. She squeezed her eyes shut to clear her vision. Now, of all times, she needed to stay alert and grounded. No trips to la-la