Page 21 of Shadow Boxed (Shadow Warriors #2)

Chapter seventeen

Muriel had a love-hate relationship with Shadow Mountain.

She’d flown into the air hangar multiple times since Daniel’s death, sometimes with Olivia or Gracie by her side, sometimes without.

And always, without fail, she felt her son’s presence the instant her shoes touched the iridescent, spongy floor.

She could almost hear the faint echo of Daniel’s voice, feel the warmth of his touch.

Had the recycled air trapped remnants of her son’s spirit on base?

Was that why his presence felt so strong here?

Or were these ghostly resonances simply her imagination?

Her soul’s efforts to keep Daniel alive, even if in echoes and memories?

She turned, looking at Gracie who sat in the back of the vehicle. Did her daughter sense her twin’s presence too? Muriel hadn’t asked...didn’t even know how to ask.

“Seatbelts on,” O’Neill said as he cranked the key to the utility vehicle.

He glanced down at Muriel’s waist and then over his shoulder at Gracie. Once assured his passengers were buckled in, he deftly backed the vehicle up and pulled onto the road.

Before today, Wolf had acted as her chauffeur, ferrying her from the hangar to the clinic.

But O’Neill escorted her and Gracie today.

His muscular body sat sprawled across the driver’s seat, while his fingers tapped against the steering wheel.

She could feel the heat his body shed. It prickled against her skin, electrifying her senses.

His overwhelming presence crushed the faint echo of Daniel’s spirit, both a relief and a regret.

Wolf was just as big, just as muscular, just as masculine, but his presence beside her all those times before had barely registered. Between her grief over Daniel’s death and anxiety over Samuel’s condition, she’d barely noticed him sitting there in the driver’s seat.

“Do you want to stop by the ER before the tour?” O’Neill asked. He stopped at the bottom of the exit ramp and reached in the caddy between the seats. Picking up his cell phone, he glanced at the screen.

“Yes please. We should get Gracie’s spirit bite checked out. Make sure it’s not infected.” Muriel forced herself not to look in the back seat. Her daughter wouldn’t appreciate her concern. She hadn’t even let her bandage or check the wound this morning.

“I’m fine.” Gracie drew the last word out, exasperation and annoyance in her tone. “It’s a spirit bite, remember? Modern medicine won’t affect it.”

From O’Neill’s raised eyebrows, she wasn’t the only one who’d caught the edge to Gracie’s voice.

“It won’t hurt to have someone look at it,” Muriel countered. She glanced at O’Neill for reinforcement. “Isn’t that what you said last night?” At least Gracie respected his opinion.

“I did.” O’Neill glanced in the rearview mirror. “It’s always wise to cover all your bases.”

“Fine.” Gracie blew out a noisy breath. “But can we do it after the tour?” She paused, and then her voice took on a calculating tone. “Unless mom wants to visit Samuel while you give me a tour of the base. If that’s the case, we might as well head to the clinic now and drop her off.”

Muriel’s chest went hollow beneath a wave of hurt and embarrassment.

“I’d like a tour too,” she said in protest, her voice tighter than she’d expected.

Gracie had made it crystal clear she didn’t want her mother horning in on her time with her father. Too bad. Muriel wasn’t ready to step back and let O’Neill monopolize their daughter...not yet.

“Tour first, then,” O’Neill said, sounding like a diplomat. He guided the vehicle across the road and down the next ramp. “We’ll hit the clinic last.”

For the next thirty minutes, O’Neill played tour guide. He identified everything as he drove past—the cafeteria, the base store, the movie theater, the bowling alley, the pool. The entire time, he kept reaching for his phone and checking the screen. He was obviously expecting a call.

“Are we keeping you from something?” Muriel finally asked.

He’d been hanging out with Wolf three days ago. Was he one of the elite warriors on base? Maybe he was needed elsewhere today.

“Wow Mom.” Gracie’s scoff carried a cutting edge. “Way to channel your passive aggressive tendencies. He’s the one who suggested the tour.”

Muriel’s face heated. She turned to O’Neill without meeting his eyes. “I didn’t mean to sound dismissive. It’s just...you keep checking your phone...I wanted to make sure we aren’t interfering with something important.”

After a few seconds of silence, O’Neill grimaced. “Something did come up this morning, and the...situation...is fluid. If that changes, we’ll have to reschedule the tour. But for now, I’m free.”

With that, he went back to playing tour guide and gestured at a recessed building to their left. “And there you have the gym. One of the most popular spots on base. Second only to the shooting range and the obstacle course.”

Gracie’s head appeared between O’Neill and Muriel’s seats. She was staring at the gym. “Is that where you work out?”

“Sometimes.”

“Can we check it out.”

Really?

Surprised, Muriel turned, staring at Gracie like she’d never seen her before.

Gracie hated exercising. Working out had been Daniel’s obsession.

A wave of grief slammed into her and that gray, internal blizzard flailed.

While Daniel had loved working out, constantly weightlifting or jogging, Gracie had hidden inside her room, lost in a book or surfing the net. Her interest in the gym was concerning.

“Not right now,” O’Neill said. “It’s shift-end. The place is packed with warriors stinking up the place. You’d suffocate.”

Gracie laughed and sat back.

“Clinic or lunch?” O’Neill asked, looking at Muriel and then Gracie.

Before Muriel could weigh in on the options, Gracie started talking.

“Can we see the obstacle course? Daniel talked about it all the time.”

“Sure.” O’Neill glanced up and down the road, before guiding the cart into a U-turn.

“Do you train there?” Gracie asked as O’Neill headed back the way they’d come.

“Sometimes. Mostly when storms roll in. There’s plenty of PT opportunities at the foot of the mountain. Jogging in the spring and summer. Cross country skiing or snow shoeing in the winter. Fresh air beats recycled any day.”

Muriel tried to keep her jaw from dropping. Seriously, her daughter, who hated sweating and physical exertion, wanted to visit the gym and obstacle course?

What had happened to the girl she’d raised?

“The course will be packed, too,” O’Neill warned as he guided their vehicle up a series of ramps and then onto another road. “But it’s big enough that even dozens of men won’t stink the place up.”

He slowed as a line of vehicles came into sight and parked beside the last cart.

“Most guys grab the elevator and walk over, so with this many vehicles parked outside the course has got to be packed.” He twisted in his seat to look at Gracie.

“You sure you want to go in? That many warriors can be ...intimidating.”

“I’ll be okay,” Gracie said stoutly. “They won’t do anything or say anything with you here.”

An odd expression touched O’Neill’s face, but he just slid from the cart without saying anything.

Like the rest of the doors on base, this one was constructed from the same black, spongy material that lined the wall, although it was recessed slightly.

The metallic iridescence glittered as the doors slid apart.

The space beyond was gigantic—easily the size of six football fields.

Which would make the track around the field at least a mile and a half long.

She hadn’t expected something so massive inside a mountain.

“Is that AstroTurf?” she asked, eying the greenery as they walked along the perimeter of the track.

“It is.” O’Neill caught Gracie’s elbow and drew her closer to the wall as a pack of joggers approached. “Grass requires blue and red light, along with water. All of which are difficult to provide in the middle of a mountain.”

Muriel stopped to watch the warriors on the field. Some were leaping over obstacles, others scaling walls, still others swinging along ropes. To the far right was an honest to Goddess train caboose with cables attached. A team of six warriors struggled to drag the train down the track.

Her gaze lifted to the high ceiling. How had they even gotten that thing in here?

She imagined Daniel out on that field...flying over the hurdles, swinging across the ropes, scaling the wall, or dragging the train. He must have loved this place...loved the exertion...loved the challenge. The blizzard inside her started howling again, ice and wind chiseling away at her soul.

For a second, a fraction of a moment, she saw a luminous shadow in the middle of the field. One standing with confidence and pride and an arrogant cock to his hip...one with dark hair and the ranginess of youth. An echo of her son.

She blinked and the ghostly image disappeared.

A pride of warriors jogged past them, their breathing audible, even though they were a good ten feet away. As the first group passed, a second approached. O’Neill hadn’t exaggerated. The field was packed.

“Our Anisbecco taught Daniel the warrior ways,” Gracie suddenly said, her back against the wall, her gaze locked on the men scaling the exceptionally tall wall. “Will you teach them to me?”

Muriel twitched. She must have misheard. The warrior ways were not offered to women.

O’Neill shifted to face their daughter, his eyebrows rising. “You want to travel the warrior’s path? Why?”

Gracie’s gaze shifted to meet her father’s. She planted her feet and squared her shoulders, holding his stare. “Because I’ve been gifted a warrior’s spirit. I should know the skills that accompany the spirit claiming.”

Muriel stiffened. “What? No! Baby—”

Her daughter twisted to face her, irritation enveloping her like a sheath. “I am not a baby. I have a wolf for a spirit totem. It is not a pet . It’s a warrior’s totem. This means I’m fated to be a warrior.”

O’Neill held up a hand, his palm out. “Not so fast. We don’t know why you were gifted the Ho'cee. We don’t know what the great mother has in mind for you. There could be other reasons behind your gifting.”

“He’s right.” Muriel tried to keep her voice steady, even as chills crashed down her spine. A knot twisted her stomach. She’d lost one child to the warrior ways. She refused to lose another. “The Hee'woo'nee do not have female warriors.”

Her daughter’s eyes flared. “Maybe they do now. Maybe our great mother is guiding the Hee'woo'nee in a new direction.”

O’Neill stepped between them and turned to Gracie. “We don’t know what the elder gods are up to. We need more information before making assumptions. Once your spirit gift manifests, we’ll have a better idea of what we’re facing.” His gaze softened. “You have to be patient.”

Gracie’s body deflated. “You aren’t going to teach me the warrior ways?”

His face softened even more than his eyes. “That’s not what I’m saying. Until we know why you were chosen, I’ll teach you self-defense. Everyone should know how to defend themselves. If the warrior ways are in your future, you’ll have your defensive responses fully rooted.”

Before he finished speaking, buzzing erupted from his pocket. He fished his cell phone out, read the screen, and stilled. When he looked back up, his face was hard, his gaze sharp and... glowing. “The strike team needs me. I’ll drop you two off at the clinic.

Muriel and Gracie scrambled to keep up with him as he headed toward the door. Tension and impatience vibrated off him as he raced down the exit ramps and across the base to the clinic.

When they reached the clinic, he stopped the vehicle without parking and waited for them to climb out.

“Will you still be able to train me?” Gracie asked in a small voice, as she hovered next to O’Neill’s shoulder.

“Yes, but I’m unsure when we will start. Things are about to get…complicated.”

With a solemn nod, Gracie backed away and watched him merge back onto the street and continue on his way.

“Great job running him off, Mom,” Gracie spat. “He doesn’t want to have anything to do with me now.”

“His departure had nothing to do with you.” Muriel ignored the accusation. Gracie was lashing out in disappointment; she didn’t believe what she’d said. “He’s a warrior. He got called in to work.”

She hadn’t seen O’Neill’s phone screen, so she didn’t know that for sure, but it seemed like a good guess.

If she hadn’t been certain her daughter would knock her hand away, she would have tried to comfort her, would have cupped her cheek or squeezed her shoulder. But Gracie wouldn’t find those gestures comforting. She’d hate the physical contact.

“Right.” Gracie rolled her eyes. Pivoting, she stalked through the emergency room door. “Like you know anything about him.”

Muriel stood there, breathing through the sting. She’d expected O’Neill to be the prickly one during this reunion, not their daughter. Suddenly, the ER doors opened, and Gracie walked out. The disappointment clouding her face had been replaced by worry.

“Mom...” Her voice was small and hoarse. “Olivia’s in the waiting room and she’s crying...like hard.”

For a moment, Muriel legs refused, but then she leapt for the clinic doors, dread a rising swamp inside her.

Something must have happened to Samuel. Olivia wouldn’t be in the waiting room unless she’d been kicked out of Samuel’s room.

Plus, the woman hadn’t cried the entire time she sat beside Samuel’s bed.

She’d cried for Daniel’s loss, cried at Muriel and Gracie’s grief, but she hadn’t cried for Samuel.

Instead, she’d insisted Samuel was in a healing trance, that he’d awake mentally recovered, even if his physical injuries remained.

She’d waited beside his bed with stubborn optimism, without shedding even a single tear.

But now...she sat hunched over in the waiting room chair, her elbows braced on her thighs, tears streaming down her face.

Muriel rushed to her, dropping down to her knees. “Livvy! What happened? What’s wrong.”

Olivia’s head lifted. Her eyes were red, her cheeks were wet, tears dripped off her chin. But her eyes weren’t drowning in sorrow; they were alight with relief.

“It’s Samuel. He’s awake!”