Embracing Silence Read online

  And if it came down to it, she’d run like hell. Silence knew this area of the outer city like the back of her hand. There were plenty of bolt-holes and camps where she could find shelter. No one would turn her away, not unless they wanted to get on Adrian’s bad side, which no one did. She loved her adopted brother, but she knew his strengths and his faults. He was strong, incredibly smart and loyal, but he was also ruthless and unforgiving. You didn’t cross him if you wanted to live.

  That was the way it had to be. It was the only way to keep some kind of order among the Resistance. What had started as a ragtag group a dozen years ago was now an organized fighting machine.

  Time lost all meaning as she stood next to the Dumpster. Sweat trickled down her temples and burned her eyes, but she didn’t dare reach up to wipe it away. Her dark T-shirt stuck to her body beneath her thin black jacket. She could have been standing here five minutes or five hours.

  Realistically, she knew it was more like five minutes, it just felt much longer. Nothing moved in the shadows. A rat scrambled down the alley, scampering over the toe of her right boot before disappearing through a crack at the base of the Dumpster.

  She had to move. All her senses were telling her she was alone. There was no scent or sound of another human being around. The fog was disorienting. It was easy to convince herself that the earlier feeling she’d had of being hunted was nothing more than a combination of the strangeness in the air tonight coupled with her imagination.

  She’d go home and try to find her quarry another night, one that was much brighter.

  A sense of defeat descended on her. She hated the feeling. The days of being a victim were long behind her. She wasn’t a defenseless child with no one who cared about her. She was Silence, legendary tracker and adopted sister of Adrian. If the stranger knew anything after living in the ruins these past months, he’d heard about Adrian’s reputation. If anything happened to her, Adrian would come after him and wouldn’t stop until he was dead. That gave her a sense of peace and bolstered her courage.

  She’d just ghost around the building in front of her and see if she could pick up his trail. If she could, she’d come back tomorrow, in the daylight and have a better look around. Two minutes and she’d be on her way home.

  Her boots made no sound as she slipped quietly around the Dumpster, still keeping to the shadows. She might think she was alone, but she wasn’t stupid. The building loomed before her, a hulking beast. But she wasn’t afraid of it or the dark. The dark was her friend, hiding her from those who would hurt her. Most people feared the shadows, but not Silence. She’d learned at an early age to use the blackness of night to her advantage.

  And she did so now, stepping carefully down the alleyway. Her muscles twitched, wanting action, but she ruthlessly controlled her movements. Sweat soaked her body, plastering her hair to her skull. Adrenaline surged through her veins, causing her heartbeat to race.

  The knife resting against her hip was cold comfort. She’d used it before. Once. When she was sixteen, she’d used it to stop a man from raping her. She hadn’t killed him, but the wound had bled copiously, covering her hands and clothing. Her screams had also brought Adrian to her rescue. He’d killed the man with his bare hands, ripping his still-beating heart from his body.

  No one had touched Silence again. At least not without her permission. She’d managed to have two short-lived relationships. Adrian intimidated all other men and they couldn’t handle the pressure of sleeping with the leader’s adopted sister.

  It had been several years since she’d had sex. She’d had offers. The most recent from a fellow tracker. Sandor was handsome enough but there was no spark between them and she’d turned him down. He’d taken her rejection well enough, but she’d been careful not to be alone with him. She found it hard to trust most men. It was nothing personal.

  She didn’t miss sex, not the act itself. What she missed was the closeness after sex, the few moments of being held securely in a man’s arms.

  It was a weakness, and one that could be used against her. She’d decided it was much easier to be alone. At least that’s what she told herself as she lay alone in her cold bed night after night.

  She released a tiny sigh. She was certainly in a strange mood tonight. She rarely thought about her childhood or the lack of a relationship in her life. There was definitely something in the air.

  It was time to go home.

  Swiveling on her heel, she started toward the opening at the end of the alley. She’d had enough tonight. Tomorrow she would begin again.

  There was no warning, no sound. A huge forearm suddenly wrapped around her midsection and another banded across her throat, cutting off her supply of air.

  She kicked back at her attacker, while slamming her head toward his face. The two simultaneous moves should have loosened his hold. He countered each move so quick it was as though she’d never made them.

  His hold tightened, making it harder for her to breathe. Blackness tinged the edges of her vision. The entrance to the alley was merely a few steps away. It tempted her, taunted her. Now she knew why she’d had such strange thoughts about her childhood, Adrian and her life in general.

  She was going to die.

  Killed at the hands of an unknown assassin. Her only consolation was that her death would alert Adrian to the danger and he would be able to take the necessary precautions to protect himself and the people who depended on them.

  She clawed at the arm pinned against her throat, but it was protected, covered in leather. Her movements became more sluggish as the blood supply to her brain dwindled. Still, she couldn’t quit fighting.

  Silence thought she heard a male swear. The thought that she was making this difficult on him made her smile.

  Then darkness swarmed up and consumed her, swallowing her whole.

  Chapter Two

  Tienan swore under his breath as he checked the woman’s pulse. It was weak and thready, but it was there. She’d fought silently and with tenacity and quickness. He admired the fact that she hadn’t given up, but it had almost cost her life. He’d loosened his hold long enough to depress a pressure point on her neck. He’d had to be careful. Too light and she wouldn’t pass out. Too hard and he’d kill her.

  She felt insubstantial in his arms as he carried her into the decrepit building behind him, her slight weight a contradiction to the fighter she was. He’d planned to sling her over his shoulder as he hauled her inside, keeping his hands free to help him maneuver among the ruins. Instead, he cradled her in his arms. The need to protect her and keep her safe overrode all else.

  The smell of honey and soap wafted up from her still form and he buried his face in the curve of her neck and inhaled. His cock stirred, pressing against the zipper of his leather pants. It was painful, but he welcomed the small hurt. It was a reminder that he was still alive and human. Sometimes he had his doubts.

  He carried her through the rubble, stepping over downed beams, piles of brick and other debris as he made his way to the staircase. Holding her with one arm, he yanked open the door and stepped inside. Darkness met him. But with his superior eyesight he could see well enough to navigate the stairs. Closing the door behind him, he made his way to the basement, his cargo held carefully in his arms.

  She shivered and he frowned. Her hair was damp and so was her clothing. He worried she might be cold. His frown deepened.

  Why the hell should he care if she was cold? She’d been following him, tracking him for weeks. His sole purpose in capturing her was to find out who she was and what she wanted. The fact that his tracker was a woman didn’t matter. Shouldn’t matter. Yet somehow it did.

  Her breath feathered his cheek, a light caresses. Every muscle in his body tightened and his cock jumped. Rock hard now, it strained for release. He ignored his body’s reaction, concentrating on the job at hand.

  The basement room was dark, an interior room with no windows. He needed to put his captive down long enough to light a candle. His arm
muscles tightened at the thought of releasing his precious cargo.

  He growled at himself in displeasure. She didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was the information she could give him.

  Tienan forced himself to set her in the wooden chair he’d placed in the center of the room when he’d set it up as his interrogation chamber. She mumbled and slumped to one side. Grabbing the arm restraints, he cuffed her wrists to the arms of the chair. A belt encircled her waist and he pulled the loops behind the chair, tightening it to keep her upright.

  His fingers stroked her hair, an automatic gesture that made him curse. He jerked his hand away, rubbing his palm against his thighs, trying to erase the softness he’d felt. Turning to the small table behind him, he struck a match and lit a candle, one of several he’d liberated from a camp several nights ago. The candle flared to life before settling down to a slow, steady burn. Taking a deep breath, Tienan faced the woman in the chair. She’d been his nemesis these past weeks.

  She was about five-foot-seven and very slender. Her legs were long. Hair as dark as his own was cut short and shaggy. It had little style and looked as though she hacked at it with a pair of scissors whenever it got too long. For some reason the image of her standing with a pair of shears or a knife, cutting off whatever hair was in her way, made him smile.

  Her heart-shaped face was ordinary, her cheekbones high, her skin pale. Her nose was straight, her lips full. She wasn’t beautiful by any means, but for some reason his heart beat faster just watching her.

  There was something about her.

  Cocking his head to one side, he studied her. He knew she was smart and tenacious. She’d been tracking him for weeks, picking up his trail again days after she’d lost him. He was curious as to how she’d managed that. He was very good at evading, but she seemed to always be on his tail.

  Crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned against the table and watched her breasts rise and fall with each breath she took. She was still wearing her jacket, but it was wide open, exposing the black T-shirt beneath. Although her shirt was dark, where it was damp, it clung to her like a second skin, outlining her breasts. The mounds were small but well-shaped, her nipples pressed against the soft fabric.

  Frowning, he stepped away from the table and went to crouch at her feet. He’d been so taken with just looking at her, he’d forgotten to check her for weapons. Stupid! Just because she was a woman didn’t mean she wasn’t dangerous. In fact, it made her more so.

  Unlacing her boots, he found a short but deadly, three-inch blade tucked inside. Her ankles were so slender he could circle them with his hands. They seemed too feminine and delicate to be encased in combat boots. Tienan carefully retied the laces, not wanting her feet to get cold.

  Ignoring the voice in the back of his head that told him he was being ridiculous, he slowly slid his hands up her calves and then her thighs. Her legs were slender but muscular. Her hips flared out and then dipped in at her waist. Tienan plucked another knife from a sheath at her waistband.

  Dumping the weapons on the table, he resumed his search. The pockets of her coat turned up nothing more than a squashed half of a sandwich, which he tossed next to the weapons. Her hands were small, almost dainty next to his as he started at her wrists and worked his way up her arms to her shoulders. She was still wearing her coat, but he could feel the roped muscle beneath the fabric. She was stronger than she appeared.

  He began to sweat as he stroked his palms over her belly. His movements becoming slower, less brisk. More of a caress than a search. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from cupping her breasts in his hands. Her nipples stabbed the center of his palms.

  Tienan wanted to see them, wanted to know what color they were. Soft beige or rosy red? Disgusted with himself, he dropped his hands to his sides and walked away. He’d do one final check of the perimeter to make certain she was alone.

  He was almost positive she was, but it didn’t pay to make assumptions. He hadn’t survived this long in his life by being stupid. It was incredibly hard to leave her behind, which only served to piss him off. What was it about this woman that made him feel things he’d never felt before?

  Whatever it was, he didn’t like it. The quicker she answered his questions, the quicker they could part ways. He hoped she would give him the information he wanted to hear. He’d hate like hell to have to kill her.

  Slipping out of the basement, he began to reconnoiter the building and beyond. He should have blown out the candle before he’d left. It was a waste of precious resources. But he hadn’t wanted her to wake up in the dark. Bad enough that she’d find herself tied to a chair. He didn’t want her to be afraid of the dark.

  Which was crazy. She was going to know she was a prisoner. That alone would be enough to frighten her.

  Pushing all thoughts of the woman from his mind, he focused on the job at hand. The quicker he finished securing the area, the faster he could return to her.

  Silence came awake slowly. Her head hurt, a continual throbbing in her temples. She tried to swallow, but her throat hurt too. Frowning, she tried to bring her hand to her face, but it wouldn’t move.

  She was cold. A shiver raced down her spine and spread out to her limbs. Her arms and legs felt damp. Taking a deep breath, she tried to open her eyes. The smell of damp earth, mold and decay filled the air around her. It took a mighty effort but she managed to pry her eyelids open. She blinked twice and swallowed, biting back a moan at the pain in her throat.

  She was in a room of some sort. As she looked down at her wrists, panic flooded her. She was strapped to a chair.

  The stranger!

  The man she’d been tracking for weeks had caught her. She had a vague memory of a very large shape behind her, of strong arms wrapped around her waist and throat, of all the air being driven from her body. He hadn’t killed her after all. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t. Obviously, he planned to question her first.

  She listened carefully for a few minutes and determined she was alone. Turning her head slowly, she scoped out as much of the room as she could, which wasn’t much. A single candle sat in a holder on a small wooden table, her two knives next to it. One of the table legs had a rock beneath it to keep it level. The ground was mostly dirt and pebbles and she couldn’t see a window anywhere.

  Think! There had to be a way out of here. Now was her chance to escape. Once her captor returned, she knew in the pit of her belly she’d never get another opportunity. If she didn’t make a break now, she was as good as dead.

  Wrapping her fingers around the arms of the chair, she placed her feet flat on the floor and pushed up. The chair scraped against the ground, moving about an inch forward. Buoyed by success, she ignored the aches and pains in her body as she did it again. The table seemed to be miles away instead of just a few feet. Still, she moved forward at a steady pace. Sweat coated her body, her muscles strained and cried out in pain, but she ignored all discomfort. Pain was better than the alternative—dead.

  Keeping her ears tuned to her surroundings, she began the slow journey of moving the several feet that separated the chair and the table. When she was close enough to the table, she leaned forward as far as she could. Her waist was tied to the chair, but she could manage to touch her forehead to the table. Rocking side to side, she tucked the chair a few inches beneath the slab of wood. Her forehead touched the hilt of her smaller knife.

  Working slowly, she managed to pull it toward her. The rough wood of the table scraped her forehead but she didn’t care. When the knife was at the edge of the table, Silence sat back and took a deep breath, trying to figure out the best way to do this. If she got the knife in her lap, she might be able to use her legs to work it close enough to her fingers. She was about to attempt it when a more obvious solution came to her. It was so simple it made her laugh.

  Shaking her head, she stood slowly. The chair was heavy and, tied as she was, she couldn’t stand up straight. But she could stand up enough to grasp the hilt of the knife with he
r fingers. Holding it as tightly as she could, she slowly sat back down.

  Triumph filled her. She had the knife. Carefully turning it in her grip, she angled the blade toward the straps on her right hand and began to saw. It was difficult and she nicked her skin more than once, but it was working. Ever so slowly, the leather straps began to split open.

  She was almost through the first strap when she sensed the air behind her stirring. Silence continued to saw frantically at the restraint. He was here. He’d made no sound, and she’d been listening, but he was here. As always, she could sense his very presence, as though the air shifted and made way for him wherever he went.

  “You’re resourceful.” His voice was deep and dark and raspy. His words made her shiver with dread. He didn’t sound particularly mad about her escape attempt. He didn’t sound anything at all. His total lack of emotion was more frightening than if he’d bellowed in anger.

  Silence almost sobbed with relief when the leather strap gave way. She clawed at the second strap, getting it undone. Not pausing to even think about why he was allowing her to do so, she sawed at the strap around her waist. Blood from several shallow wounds on her wrist dripped down her fingers, making it more difficult for her to work.

  “How do you plan to get past me?” His question was thoughtful, almost as though he was curious about her intentions.

  His voice was closer now, coming from the deep shadows behind her. The last restraint fell away and she lurched from the chair. She whirled around to face where she thought he was. She couldn’t see a thing.

  “Stay away from me. I’ll kill you if I have to.”

  No reply. But she knew he was there in the dark. Watching.

  Tucking her short blade in her jacket pocket, she grabbed up her larger one. She wished she had a gun but they were in short supply and given to the men and women who went out daily on patrol in the outer city. Somehow she felt all the weapons in the world wouldn’t do her any good against this man.