Page 4 of Safe in Shadow (Pine Ridge Universe #22)

T he sense of relief Grace felt when driving her own car back up the sunset-kissed driveway to Hilltop House faded as soon as she parked.

Van unloaded.

Obligatory pizza consumed.

Sisterly conversation held.

Sibling shoved back into sports car and sent on his way.

All I have left is a to-do list several miles long.

But Grace stayed in the car, the sense of despair and darkness growing, smothering her as if someone was wrapping her in a wavy blanket and holding it over her face.

Something bad is here.

No. No, something sad happened here, that’s all. All those soldiers, trying to get over the horrors of war, trying to live in a normal world again... I hope they made it.

Realistically, she knew some of them probably had not. Maybe some had died here. Daffodil had started to hint that a ghostly soldier would be a great tourist attraction.

But I don’t believe in ghosts. If ghosts were real, Nana would still be hanging out with me. Man, she’d love this place. She’d help me turn it into a real showpiece, ghost or not!

With a sudden shove, Grace scooted her hips out of the driver’s seat and planted her feet on the ground, rising and facing the house with a defiant glare.

“I own this place now. If anyone is hanging out in here, it’s time to find the light, cross over, or dance through the pearly gates. Whatever you call it, cross it off your ‘I kicked the bucket’ list.”

Night seemed to come on in seconds. Grace gasped as the white Victorian mansion that had been bathed in pinks and oranges was suddenly steeped in inky black and blue.

Calm down. The sun went behind a cloud. It’s the mountains. Shadows are big and deep. The forest is totally overgrown, too.

Grace took a step forward, a frown etching itself more deeply onto her face. The trees almost seem to be swallowing this place up. Like some many-headed monster.

She gave one spasming shudder. Driving past Hilltop House, Grace had often thought about how the trees provided a protective circle, an enchanted ring of ancient trees opening up to allow some lucky person to find a hidden treasure.

You know what they say about treasure.

You have to pay taxes on it.

Crap. I’m going to have to hire a team of lumberjacks before the next storm. One big gust to any of these massive trees would take out the roof.

“I’m not afraid of you. I’ve put too much into this,” Grace told the house, shouldering her bulky brown purse and marching up the steps to the wraparound porch. “Do whatever you like, just don’t wreck the renovations.”

NYX LET OUT A SHAKING , silent gasp as the bright, breathing woman stepped through him, pushing through the darkness he cast, feeling her heat touch every part of him at once. He tasted her energy and found his body turning less nebulous and more masculine in form.

Do whatever I like?

What a lovely invitation, Sunshine.

You’ll have to go, but there’s no reason I can’t have fun with you first.

IT WAS INTERESTING to have a human of his own to observe, almost like a pet.

He followed Grace around, watching her work.

He knew she was a bright and empathetic sort of woman by the way her uneasiness grew the closer he got.

She looked over her shoulder and cocked her head to listen for his silence every few minutes as she began making his house her home.

Appalling.

It should be more appalling, watching her invade.

Why was he equal parts amused and angered when he should only be filled with fury? She wasn’t evil, like The Stranger, but she still wasn’t welcome.

And yet, Nyx found it entertaining to watch this woman.

He liked to rattle doors, ever so softly, just to see her face take on new expressions.

It was fun to watch her try in vain to get the lighting brighter inside the downstairs rooms, her lower lip between her teeth, and her breasts heaving under her tight cotton shirt.

“Well. The toilets work; let’s hope the shower does, too.”

Nyx slid along the wainscotting as Grace left the kitchen and mounted the stairs, the hot, wicked feeling surging in him in ways it never had.

She’s so bright and so brave.

So very breakable.

He would have her out by tonight.

Nyx hesitated outside of the bathroom in the wide, sweeping hallway. A few doors away, his swirling pit of misery waited, offering him a permanent escape.

He didn’t take it. Didn’t go near it.

Instead, he slid like a pool of ink into the already dim bathroom and slowly sat in the corner of the immense room, remembering all the other sights he’d seen in here over time.

Soldiers being bathed as they lay on tables and wheeled in on chairs.

The white plague, tuberculosis, creating an endless echoing symphony as young men hunched over the old porcelain sinks, coughing up blood.

His own face in the mirror, gaunt and startled.

Nyx turned away from the mirror sharply before he could see what he’d become and found himself looking at Grace’s bare body as she slid her jeans down her legs.

Her body was more muscular and slender than the bodies of the last women he’d seen. She reached to turn on the hot water and shivered as she rocked from foot to foot on the bath mat, the only warmth in a sea of black and white tile.

“Shit. Shampoo!” Grace squealed and ran across the hall to his bedroom.

Her bedroom.

Their bedroom?

He’d decide later. For now, Grace sprinted back into the room with a peach-colored bag bulging with tubes and bottles.

She selected several and leaned over the edge of the original claw-footed tub.

New shining silver pipes and a stiff white curtain made of plastic surrounded the tub, protecting it from his sight.

If he stayed where he was.

I should leave. Wrong. I know it’s wrong to look at her.

It would be wrong to scare her away, then, wouldn’t it?

Nyx weighed his thoughts against his ever-changing knowledge of good and evil.

Scaring Grace away would protect his home and prevent him from slipping into the abyss if he ever made a... mistake.

On the other hand, there was no harm in watching someone performing a task as mundane as bathing.

And she told me to do anything I liked as long as I didn’t harm the house.

What if I promise not to harm her ?

Is scaring harm?

Another thought suddenly shook his lustful, tangled thoughts. He could hear Grace humming through the curtain. As he moved, light pooled and shone through it, illuminating her silhouette. A mouth-watering sight—and he wasn’t the only one who would enjoy it.

What if The Stranger comes back? She must be made to leave. If he finds her...

Nyx jerked back the edge of the curtain and loomed, bristling with height and muscles that were far from his usual form.

“Oh, oh, oh, ye-eeah.” Grace had her eyes closed, and her foam-covered hands were embedded in her thick, tangled locks. She sang loudly as she rocked her slender body to the rhythm of her song.

Nyx swallowed as his eyes followed trails of creamy bubbles down the curve of her back and over her legs. Bubbles made a threadbare skirt around her hips and over her bottom.

How is she such a golden tan all over? Is that her natural color?

Pretty. So warm. So lively.

Grace continued to sing, belting out something melodic but unfamiliar to him. Her eyes remained shut.

“This one’s for you, Nana! I wanna be loved by you, just you, and nobody else but you! I wanna be loved by you...” Grace tilted her head back and bellowed, starting to scrub the shampoo from her hair.

Nyx shrank down. Backed away.

Mesmerized, he watched water cascade over her breasts and down her thighs, eyes slowly sliding to the nest of curly brown-blonde curls between them, allowing himself a little peek and then a little longer, savoring this moment.

I don’t want her to leave yet.

The Stranger won’t stop here now, not when it’s obviously lived in and repaired. He won’t be that stupid.

Even if he did, surely the vampire and the warlock’s charms would protect her.

But I still have control in this place, don’t I? Is she protected from me?

Does she need to be?

No. No. I’m not evil, although I’m not good, either.

A fleeting thought whispered, I could protect her if I had to.

GRACE HAD PICKED THE large bedroom on the second floor because it was somehow pristine. Oddly untouched. As she carefully dried herself on the edge of the bed (mentally budgeting for a cheap but fancy-looking rug to put on the original hardwood floor), she made up her own story about this room.

This was probably the home of the last resident who lived here. Like some of the people in Nana’s building. They slowly lose the use of their bodies and minds, and their world shrinks to a single room. Or some can only afford a single room in a nursing home.

Grace’s lips quivered as she recalled her parents’ conversations after Nana broke her hip. They were ready to pack up her stuff, sell off her remaining furniture, and “put” her in a nursing home like she was an object that deserved to be downsized.

Rage and tears welled up in her, and she pushed them down with another burst of song, glad she had no audience.

Except the house.

Hilltop itself seemed to listen.

Hilltop was lonely. It probably missed that final resident who had taken such good care of this one spot in the house. Maybe he was a squatter. A forgotten soldier. She could picture him (it was definitely a man in her mind for some reason) hiding in this place, glad for its shelter.

Hilltop House was a protector, just as she’d always imagined, a safe haven. Grace gave herself a little mental slap on the head for being so hesitant to go inside when she’d arrived back at sunset. There was nothing scary about this place.

Don’t worry. I’m not going to leave you. I’m here for the duration. I’m no quitter. Hey, if you survived all alone with no one to support you for decades , I can hack it for a few months .

Her voice had the same tone she used when finding a particularly cute cat or dog.

“Well. You absorbed all the sadness of the people here, didn’t you?

” Grace asked the still air. Her eyes were drawn to a murky corner of the bedroom, a patch that stayed dark, as if the beam of her bedside lamp was sliced off with the edge of a knife.

Silly. Darkness doesn’t have ears. Or eyes. It’s gotta be the way these old ceilings are angled. I’ll get a floor lamp to plug in over there.

She hummed to herself as she looked for pajamas in the few boxes by the foot of the bed.

Still, it doesn’t hurt to talk to something or someone—even if they won’t talk back. No one is here to say you’ve gone crazy. Grace fondly remembered the way Nana would talk to everything and anything in her little apartment.

She’d scold the microwave. “Now, now, you beeping thing. I’m an old lady. It takes me time to get around!”

“Ahh, my old friends. What do you recommend tonight?” Nana would say as she looked at her bookshelf or collection of DVDs.

“It’s going to be happier now. Lots of people in you.

Sorry, that sounded weird. Lots of visitors.

Usually happy ones, I hope. You’re going to get lots of TLC and.

.. and... Damn it, Casey. He didn’t bring up any of my clothes!

I specifically told him the only thing he could carry up was my overnight bag when he had to use the bathroom! ” She nudged the bag he had brought up.

Shoes. Flip flops. Pumps. Sneakers.

Nothing I’d consider pajamas!

Grace paused in her towel, looking out into the pitch-black hallway. She could put on her dusty, grimy, sweaty jeans and shirt again.

No. Ick. Ew.

She couldn’t sleep in her wet towel, but the idea of walking alone in the big, empty house in the dark made her chest tight. She wasn’t afraid. She was just... It was unfamiliar, and there weren’t enough lights to guide her. The last thing she needed was a broken toe—or leg.

With a sigh, Grace continued to speak to the strange “presence” of Hilltop House.

“You’re going to have to excuse me. I don’t think the manager-owner of the luxurious Hilltop House B&B should sleep in the nude in case of an emergency—but as the only emergency is likely to be caused by my own idiocy, I’ll risk it.

Okay, Hilltop? You’ve got the night shift.

I’m beat. I’ll sleep and you just... carry on.

Do whatever your inanimate heart desires. ”