Darkness Unknown Read Free Page A

imagine what the local emergency room doctors would have done when his cuts and bruises disappeared right before their eyes. He’d be lucky if he didn’t end up the objectof some highly classified medical experiments. She shuddered at the thought.
    After letting in the dogs, she restrained their guest with the rope. She felt a little guilty, but she wouldn’t risk him hurting her or her brother. In the morning, she would untie him— if he gave her a believable explanation for how he’d come to be in that condition in her woods.
    If she didn’t like what he had to say, she would call the sheriff, although she’d have to come up with some excuse for not calling him in the first place. But she really, really hoped that this man had answers for all the questions she had about her younger brother.
    She tugged a chair closer to the bed, then settled in for a long night.
    Â 
    Consciousness came burning back, jerking Jarvis out of the deep sleep his body demanded for healing. With it came the familiar surge of anger, coupled with a heightened awareness of being alive. His skin burned and hurt, as if it were too small to contain him any longer. Old habits had him twisting and turning to break free of his bonds; he hated being tied down, and hated the need for it even more.
    But something was different. Waking up unable to move was hardly a new experience, but he was used to the cold chill of stainless steel under hisback, not soft, sun-dried sheets. He tried to move his sword arm, but couldn’t budge it more than an inch or two. Same with his left.
    His legs were bound, too—but with rope rather than the security straps and chains his Handlers used. What was going on? Keeping his eyes shut, he reached out with his other senses.
    There were other heartbeats in the room, two of which weren’t human. The good news was that they weren’t Others. The third heartbeat was definitely human, and from the faint scent of floral perfume, it was most likely a woman’s.
    Where the hell was he, if he wasn’t dead and he wasn’t in the lab?
    His last clear memory was the nightmare realization that he was about to die at the hands of a rogue mob of Others. Everything after that was a complete blank.
    He opened one eye to assess his situation. A ceiling fan whirred softly overhead.
    To the right was an old-fashioned oak dresser and a wall covered in floral striped wallpaper. Careful not to make any sudden moves, he slowly looked to his other side and hit pay dirt.
    A woman lay sprawled in a chair in the corner. She couldn’t possibly be comfortable with her neck bent like that, but it clearly hadn’t interfered with her ability to sleep. Who was she?
    He’d always been a sucker for redheads, especially the ones with fair skin and a few freckles thrown in for extra interest. He grinned, willing to bet she hated each and every one of them.
    He studied her face, liking what he saw. What color were her eyes? He was betting on green, or maybe a rich chocolate brown. Her hands looked strong and capable, and she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring—although that didn’t always mean anything. Not that it mattered. Once she cut him free, he’d leave, never to darken her doorway again. And that was a damn shame. He definitely wouldn’t mind a romp in this bed with her.
    Then he noted the rifle within easy reach of her chair. She’d been smart enough to tie him down, and he bet she knew how to use that gun. A bullet from a twenty-two wouldn’t kill him, but it would hurt like hell. And if she hit a vital spot, it would definitely slow him down.
    He shifted slightly, causing the bed to creak. Immediately there was the sound of claws scrabbling on a wooden floor, and two furry heads popped up over the edge of the bed. The dogs were well mannered enough not to jump up with him, but they whined and looked back at their owner as if trying to figure out what to do next.
    The