Desired by Shadow (A Shadow Walkers Novel) Read Free Page B

ferocious fighter, and she’d heard him mentioned numerous times.
    “It’s cold out. I’d rather stay in bed.” Gloria whispered, pulling on her coat.
    “No kidding. Let the super ghosts and Bruce fight their petty little wars without us.” Maggie snorted. She didn’t know why they fought; didn’t care. All she wanted was to survive to live another day and pray that one day she’d be freed. “What time is it?”
    “Bit after ten,” Jean whispered.
    “Come on, ladies. Quit yer yapping and get a move on,” the ugly weasel hollered.
    “What’s his name again?” Jean wrinkled her nose.
    “Alvin, I think,” Maggie answered sounding distracted. If Solien and Rawlins were leery of this Robert guy, he must be seriously scary. She hadn’t seen him, but Jean had encountered him a couple of times and gushed over the guy’s good looks. Maggie sent up a prayer every time she went out to never run into the guy.
    Bruce and his men didn’t have the ability to see the super ghosts so whenever the prisoners were sent out to a club or pub or shop, their job was to look around for these super ghosts or Shadow Walkers as Bruce called them. And Maggie and her fellow prisoners were to tell Bruce or his men when they spotted the enemy. Then the men called Bruce who called his boss. These guys were super ghosts too but called themselves Day Walkers. Enemies to the Shadow Walkers. Locked in some kind of crazy war most of the world couldn’t see and probably wouldn’t care about if they could. The sucky thing? If a prisoner didn’t tell Bruce or his men when they spotted one of these beings and somehow Bruce found out? The prisoner was beaten or killed on the spot. Of course, Bruce and company couldn’t see their bosses any more than they could the enemy unless one of these Walkers willed it.
    Kept in the dark upstairs attic, there were ten men and only three women remaining, the rest never returned from their forays into Edinburgh and surrounding areas. The only time the men and women interacted was during meals. While they ate, they whispered amongst themselves when the guards changed or weren’t paying close attention. The group talked about themselves, figuring out what commonality tied them together. They came from different backgrounds, races, and circumstances. Some kidnapped, some lured to the house by a warm meal or drink, and kept against their will. But all were survivors.
    It didn’t matter what they had survived only that each and every one of them had been declared clinically dead before being resuscitated. The types of accidents were varied: smoke inhalation, drowning, car crash, knife and gunshot wounds. All the prisoners could see people no one else could. None of it made sense to Maggie. Why didn’t they recruit the captives instead of holding them against their will? Maggie knew some of the prisoners would have gladly worked for Bruce simply for a roof over their head, food and water. Wouldn’t it be easier? What did she know? Deciding not to worry about something she couldn’t change, Maggie finished pulling on her gloves.
    “Need your eyeballs tonight, ladies.” Bruce motioned to the three of them.
    Maggie, Gloria, and Jean were shoved out the door into the hallway. Guess none of the men were joining them. The women wore their clothing to bed since the nightgowns provided were little more than flimsy threadbare hospital gowns, gaping open and leaving nothing to the imagination. It was humiliating. Maybe that’s why the prisoners were all given the robes, to keep them cowed. And they quickly learned the men would watch them dress if they slept in the gossamer wrappers. Disgusting cretins.
    Two men led the way while the other three brought up the rear, ensuring the women couldn’t escape as they walked down the stairs to the back hallway and tunnel. The women were split up, Maggie going with three of the men, Jean and Gloria with the other two. Bruce stood with arms crossed, watching them go through