This Haunted World Book Five: Resistance: A Truly Haunting Supernatural Thriller by Shani Struthers

This Haunted World Book Five: Resistance: A Truly Haunting Supernatural Thriller by Shani Struthers

Author:Shani Struthers [Struthers, Shani]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Authors Reach
Published: 2023-08-30T16:00:00+00:00


That night, they lay together, back in her apartment, for it was not only more comfortable, it was safer. Tomaso – or Tom, as she would now call him – was silent by her side, but if he was sleeping, she couldn’t tell. She lay quietly too, barely breathing, certainly not sleeping. She wondered if she might ever sleep again how she used to, peacefully and for long stretches at a time. Might she only ever catch snatches of sleep from now on, lay with one eye open, listening, always listening?

His apartment had been nothing like hers. There was barely any furniture in it; it had all long since been removed, when, Tom had no idea, only that it hadn’t been inhabited for a while. Besides a chair and a bed, the bare necessities, there were radios, that was all, some crackling with static even as they’d entered.

Tom was a spy, a member of the Resistenza. Officially a member, not someone like her who offered only the merest nod towards it, whatever she could get away with. And yet when she’d confided that information to him soon after they’d met, he’d kissed her. Had seen a kindred spirit in her. But he’d also wanted to keep her safe. There were repercussions for what he did, terrible, terrible repercussions. She’d seen proof of it with her own eyes at the Colosseum. If you were discovered, you’d be executed. Gunned down like a dog.

Angry at her own behaviour earlier, for her stupidity, she squeezed her eyes shut. The person who’d been watching them could have no ill intent towards them, amused, even, by their antics. But the reverse might also be true. Not all Fascisti were identifiable, he’d told her. Mussolini’s secret police wore no uniform and, like the Resistenza themselves, moved silently through the city, infiltrated it.

You had to be careful who you trusted.

Yet he’d trusted her. With his heart first, and now with everything.

Tom was sleeping; his breath had become heavier. Gently, she extricated herself from his arms, left the bedroom, then headed down the hallway to the bathroom.

Her head pounded, not just from the grappa but the crushing weight of truth. The necessity of the fight back. Caterina valued freedom, love, life, the lightness of life, the joy of it, and all of it was being threatened by one common enemy.

In the bathroom, she reached for the light pull and tugged at it. Such a dim light, but it was enough to see by. See what she’d become.

Tom had told her what he could. He was part Italian but part American too. The other name he went by, his father’s surname as opposed to his mother’s, was Tom Delaney. The radios were used to supply allies with information on the mood in Rome, any changes that might be taking place, any acts of resistance planned. He’d shared his deepest secret, his most dangerous one, and he’d done so with a curious mixture of pride and fear. Not fear of the opposition, but for her.



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