Shadow Walker by Allyson James Read Free Book Online Page B

if you decided to go dragon.” I laughed, expecting him to flash his smile at me, but he didn’t.
    “They never saw me,” he said.
    “Did you find anything?”
    “You mean in the sinkhole? Nothing. Just rocks.”
    “You went all the way down inside?”
    No answer. Mick had left ten hours ago, a damn long time not to find anything but rocks. I touched the small of his back, where the flame tattoo lay under his shirt. Sudden heat seared through the fabric, and I jerked away.
    “Mick, are you all right?”
    He snarled. “Damn it, I said I was fine .”
    I stared in shock. One thing Mick had never done, since the night I met him, was snap at me. He didn’t always agree with my decisions, and we could argue, even rage at each other, but he never, ever bit my head off for no reason. Something must have happened out there that he didn’t want to tell me about.
    “Mick.” I touched his back again, and he sprang to his feet.
    I sat up. “Sorry. Did I hurt you?”
    Mick swung on me, and when I saw his eyes, I fell back into the pillows. Mick’s eyes were usually human blue or filled with black. Tonight he looked at me with white gray irises, his pupils nothing but tiny pinpricks.
    “Mick, what is wrong with you?”
    “Nothing.” His voice was harsh and wrong. “Stop berating me, Janet.” He turned away, taking that awful gaze with him. “I’m hungry. I’m going to raid the kitchen.”
    His aura was flickering, white and gray weaving together. That was wrong. Mick should be solid black with streaks of fiery red.
    Shadows.
    “I’ll come with you,” I said, starting to get out of bed.
    “No!” Mick glared at me with those white eyes, and I froze.
    He stood silently over me, and I sat back down on the bed. If I had to fight Mick, I’d have to use my Beneath magic, which meant I’d either kill him quickly or lose. I didn’t want to do either.
    As Mick watched me, the white receded from his eyes. When his irises became dark blue again, he rubbed his hand through his hair. “Sorry, baby,” he said almost in his normal voice. “I just need to eat something. You go to sleep.”
    Mick turned his back on me and walked out. I was out of bed as soon as he closed the door, and as I suspected, he went nowhere near the kitchen. I heard Mick’s bike start up behind the hotel, and I yanked open the blind in time to see him ride past my window and roar off. His red taillight flashed as he slowed to turn onto the highway, then the sound of his motorcycle faded down the road.
    “Oh, girlfriend,” the mirror breathed from my nightstand. “Our Micky did not look good.”
    I snatched up the shard. “What’s wrong with him?”
    “I don’t know. But he’s touched evil. Or evil has touched him.”
    “What kind of evil?” There were so many different kinds.
    “I don’t know, sugarplum. I wish I did.”
    “Keep an eye on him,” I said.
    “If I can.”
    I dropped the mirror shard into the drawer and closed it and then got back into bed. But I didn’t sleep and didn’t turn off the light. I leaned against the headboard with my knees drawn to my chest, sitting in the circle of lamplight until gray dawn touched the sky.
     
    Mick didn’t return, and I went through my morning routine with worry lodged in my throat. Deputy Lopez called me around nine to tell me that Nash Jones had recovered enough to insist on leaving the hospital. I could imagine Nash yanking the tubes out of his arms and storming out of the ICU, demanding his clothes on the way.
    “At least he let Maya drive him home,” Lopez said. “She’s there with him now, feeding him chicken soup.” He snorted with laughter. The idea of big, bad Sheriff Jones being spoon-fed by Maya was funny.
    I thanked Lopez for letting me know and hung up, relieved that Nash seemed to be all right. As I said, the man was tough. I hoped he’d be smart enough to lie low and recover, but with Nash, who knew?
    I had other problems to face today besides figuring out what was