Shadowman (Shadow, #3)

Shadowman gave a tight nod of assent. He should have stamped the devil out when he had the chance. Another mistake.

At least . . . and how strange . . . he wasn’t alone in this. Adam must experience the same weakness and humility of the flesh, and yet, he fought even harder. Talia, just as strong, defended her children. The mean tip to her eyes said she was prepared for more.

What about Layla? Solitary. Forsaken. Facing the worst of the threats upon this family.

A racket sounded in the distance, and suddenly a helicopter burst over the trees. The white body was long, slim, like a dolphin, with twin-mounted rotors up top instead of one. It lowered a short distance away, and Talia used her body to shield the babies from the cold winter gusts it kicked up. Yes, this would go much faster than the box that had delivered him to Segue.

This morning he’d been on the verge of war with the angels. Now he would throw himself on their mercy.





Chapter 17


Layla racked her memory for her name. She couldn’t be that far gone. Could she?

“Names have power,” Moira said, strolling her ashy circle and maintaining an almost demonic triangle with her sisters. “Which is the reason the fae have so many.”

Layla could feel the word in her brain. It was the same maddening sensation that had dogged her since she’d first seen Shadowman. She’d known him yet couldn’t place him. Known Talia, too, but couldn’t make the connection. Now she was losing touch with herself.

Hi, I’m . . .

And she totally blanked. Damn it. The name was right there.

Layla’s teeth chattered. She folded her arms for warmth. This couldn’t be the end, yet the trees and ash and cold gray sky attested otherwise. Was this really what she had left of him? The desolation was stealing color from her, too.

He wouldn’t want that. She didn’t want that.

“Take your man Death, for instance,” Moira continued. “How many names do you think he’s been given over the ages and by myriad peoples, yet his power was stolen by a silly girl now bumbling through these trees.” Moira paused in the circle, facing Layla with a question on her lovely features. “And how do you think you will fare if you have just the one name, and already cannot bring it to mind?” She started her leggy stroll again with an audible, and very pleased with herself, “Hmm.”

Layla called up the names and faces of her new “extended” family: Talia, pale and fair; Adam, managing everything; the babies, black-eyed Michael and cherub Cole. She hadn’t lost them. She recited her phone number, her address, even her computer login. All good.

It’s nice to meet you. I’m . . .

Nothing.

Layla drew a deep breath of frigid air and puffed smoke into the winter wonderland. Her nose was doing that prickling thing that came with cold or tears. She’d remember if she just didn’t freak out. She was doing this to herself. Had to be. If Zoe could find power, Layla could. She would not let this harpy wreck her. In the meantime, “Stop calling him ‘my man Death.’ His name is Shadowman.”

The three sisters sneered.

Wait. Hold it. Just. One. Second.

Death as Layla knew him was gone. Okay, she could take that. He didn’t even want to be Death anymore. But was Shadowman gone?

Moira and her sisters began their circling again. “Shadowman is a fool to trade power and time for a handful of years.”

“He’s alive.” Heat surged into Layla.

“He’s mortal,” Moira said, as if he were beneath her.

Layla would take him any way she could get him. Determination beat her heart faster. She wasn’t cold anymore. Not at all. “I found a way back to him before. I can do it again.”

The old sister looked over. “That life is over.”

Good. Layla wanted that life to be over. She’d been miserable and alone for most of it. And then she’d ripped out her heart and told the one she loved to do his duty. Her mission was complete. Yes, she was very glad that life was done.

She wanted a new one, on her own terms. “I’m leaving.”

Layla made for the edge of the circle, to a space between one fate and another, but the circle moved with her. Moira smiled. “To go where?”

“Anywhere you aren’t.”

“Impossible. I am Fate. I am everywhere that you are. I tell you what to do and where to go. Do you think it was coincidence that you found Death in that warehouse? No, I took you there. Or that you rediscovered your daughter? Fate did that, too.”

Layla wasn’t buying. There was no way in Hell, and Layla knew a little bit about that place now, that this hag was going to take credit for every decision humankind made, least of all hers.

“What about Zoe?” Had she predestined that transformation?

Moira declined to answer.

“I didn’t think so.” Layla made for the edge again, but the Fates effortlessly followed. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”