Shades And Shadows Collection - The Complete Series

Excerpt from Shades And Shadows Collection

“I am told that a Shade has no soul and cannot be saved, however, my superiors have instructed me to extract information from you, so that more of your kind can be hunted and killed before they can corrupt those whom God loves.”

The colonel liked to hear himself talk, Mason had learned, but when he was talking, Mason was less likely to be beaten, forced to swallow salt, or any of the other torments they had laid on him in the days he'd been their prisoner. Mason was once again in the center of the cell and under artificial UV light, his arms up over his head so that he was swinging from his chained wrists.

“Today we are going to explore your healing more.” He held up a knife and Mason swallowed. Up until now his injuries were largely superficial, at least the external ones were. Internally, he wasn't as sure. The prisoner called Alaric had used his fingers to make him to throw up the salt each time that Shallon forced it into him, but his stomach was starting to feel like it was ripped to shreds. His ribs were painful and the little bit of self-assessment he'd managed in the dark between torture sessions told him that it wouldn't take much to make the cracked ribs into true breaks.

His shoulders screamed and his wrists were bloody, and the amount of water he'd been given was barely enough to keep him alive, even if Alaric had tried to supplement it with his own water and, at least once, blood. It was probably wrong to wish the bastard tormenting him would just cut him too much, too deep, and spill all the precious blood in his body into the dirt and let him slide into the dark.

Instead, the cut was shallow along his collarbone, just enough to make him bleed. Mason hissed, closing his eyes against the new stinging pain. “There now, that seems a simple enough matter. Show me this healing.”

His blood was thick and slow, hot against his skin. Mason licked dry lips with a drier tongue. “Can't.”

“Come now, I'm told–”

“Colonel.”

Shallon turned away from Mason to the soldier in Battalion blues at the door, dipping his head to listen as the man whispered in his ear. He looked up sharply, snapping at his men, and they all left the cell without another word.

Alaric was at his side instantly, hands sliding up Mason's arms and fumbling with the bindings that held his hands.

“Leave him.” Bryan said, pushing past them to the door. He pushed on it, but it didn't budge. “Riley will be here any minute.”

Alaric pulled on the chains holding him without responding. Mason closed his eyes and tried not to move.

“Alaric, we have to go now.”

Mason opened his eyes. Alaric's blond hair was tickling his cheek and suddenly his hands fell free and his body crashed to the ground. The door was open and for a long moment, Mason couldn't understand why.

Being deprived of darkness and liquids had taken a toll on him, and his brain was sluggish, slow to realize what was going on. Unless he got some darkness and some water soon, he would not be able to recover.

“Can you stand?” Alaric's voice was strained, and he could hear the fear and the tension in his tone. In the hall beyond Mason could hear men moving and Bryan was gone, leaving the cell was empty now but for the two of them.

“I… maybe.” He offered his hand for help up and Alaric took it, hefting as Mason pushed off the floor.

“Lean on me. I'll get you some cover soon, but we have to move.” Alaric's arm slid around his waist, tugging Mason's body close as Mason managed to make his feet move.

Mason tried to focus as they went, but everything was moving very quickly around him. They followed Bryan's back and after a few minutes, Alaric ducked them into a blessedly dark room.

“Stay here. I'll be right back.” Alaric pushed Mason up against a wall and was gone.

In the distance thunder rumbled… or maybe it was an explosion. Men were shouting, and there was a spattering of gunfire before Alaric was back. “Here, put these on.” He shoved clothes at Mason, peeking out the door. “It's daylight outside. You need to cover up.”

Alaric helped him figure his way into the clothes, belting the too-big pants tight and shoving his feet into boots that weren't too bad, if a little tight. “We have to hurry. Bryan and Riley are making sure our path out is clear. Take this.” He shoved a canteen into his hands. “It isn't much. I'll try to get us more before we're outside.”

Mason tilted back his head and poured the water into his mouth as Alaric checked the hallway again. “Okay, come on.”

Mason stumbled as they hit a set of stairs, but Alaric hauled him back to his feet. Bryan was above them, telling them to hurry. “Out the door, to your right, Riley's holding the fence. East and then north.”

Bryan shoved another canteen at him and Alaric tugged Mason out the door. They made the fence, where a grinning young man with spiky white-blond hair was holding open a cutaway piece of the fence and a big automatic gun. “Let's move, Cassandra's illusions aren't going to keep them busy for much longer.”

Alaric pushed Mason through the fence first, then followed. They started running once they were out, or as close to running as Mason was capable of. Bryan and Riley caught up, and Mason thought there were other people around them as well. The sun beat down on them without mercy and the ground was baked sand and rock, radiating the heat and light back up at him. Mason guzzled water from the first canteen, dropping it when it was empty and he tried to keep from falling.

He didn't know how or why, but it was pretty clear that this was an escape orchestrated with outside help, and for whatever reason Alaric had inexplicably chosen to take Mason with them. He wasn't about to complain. Even dying all dry and burnt out in the desert was a better way to go than in the hands of a man like Shallon.

They ran across the barren landscape with little for cover, and he was sure they would be recaptured. He stumbled as he tried to look back over his shoulder, nearly going down before Alaric's hand fisted in the loose fabric of his stolen shirt and hauled him up again. “Don't worry about behind us,” Alaric said. “Just focus on moving.”

Mason clung to Alaric, fairly certain he wouldn't survive this mad race from captivity, but not quite ready to let go of the hope that he might. The desert sun was no place for Mason, and he knew Alaric felt guilty for dragging him through the daylight, could feel the guilt in the air around them, but Mason wouldn't have survived had he been left behind.

So, they ran. Alaric pulled him down into a ditch of some kind, offering him the meager shade cast by the opposite wall. Mason couldn't slow his breathing and his skin was hot and dry.

Alaric leaned in, his hand on Mason's face. “You still with me?”

Mason nodded, lifting the last canteen with shaking hands. “Need liquid, dark.”

“I know. Catch your breath. I'll be right back.”

Alaric disappeared and for a long moment, Mason wondered if he would bother coming back. He gulped at the water, but it wasn't enough to make a big difference. He dropped the canteen from numb fingers when it was empty, closing his eyes and leaning back against the wall of the ditch.