Shadowdance: The Darkest London Series: Book 4 by Callihan Kristen

Author:Callihan, Kristen [Callihan, Kristen]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3, mobi
Tags: Fiction / Romance / Historical / Victorian, Fiction / Romance - Paranormal, Fiction / Fantasy / Urban, Fiction / Fantasy - Paranormal, Fiction / Science Fiction - Steampunk, Fiction / Romance - Fantasy
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 2013-12-17T07:00:00+00:00

Dawn was slow in coming for Mary. She was being watched. She knew it with the same certainty with which she knew her name was Mary Chase. The sensation whispered over her skin like spider silk and crept along her spine to nip at her neck. An unnerving distraction that robbed her of peace and kept her awake.

It was not a new sensation. It had come and gone for some time. Too long. So long that she was almost used to the feeling. Almost, but not quite. Had she not the ability to see spirits, Mary would have wondered if her house was haunted, for the sensation of eyes upon her nearly always occurred when she was in her home.

“Nonsense,” she muttered, and tossed back her bedcovers. The white light of morning was shining through her curtains as she crossed the cool floors and headed for her front room. Still she could not shake the sticky feeling. For someone accustomed to doing the watching, it was not only unnerving but an affront.

Two tall windows dominated her parlor. Framed by cream velvet curtains, the windows gleamed like a pair of bright eyes, watching. The desire to draw the curtains fully closed prompted Mary to do the opposite. She stalked right up to them, yanked them wide, and pressed her nose to the icy glass.

She spotted him immediately, the sight giving her a start. Crouched on the corner of the opposite roof like some gargoyle of old, his black-cloaked shape formed a hulking silhouette against the lemon-yellow sky.

The gears in her heart nearly stopped, then sped up. But she knew that body, and the distinct shape of that head. Jack Talent.

Her palm spread wide upon the window, the heat of her body emitting waves of condensation along the glass. The light was in her eyes, and he merely a black outline. But then a cloud scuttled over the sun, and his eyes gleamed, looking straight at her. And she felt that gaze as if it were a living, breathing beast upon her. Slowly he stood, his tall form perfectly balanced upon the jutting roof edge. And simply watched her.

Her body tightened. Had he always watched her? It couldn’t be so. But for a moment, she felt certain that he had.

As if he’d been waiting to see her reaction, he raised his arm then and gave her a graceful salute. The next moment he was gone, leaving with inhuman speed.

Mary stared at the spot where he had stood. The salute ought to have been a mockery. Only it felt like an acknowledgement, and a message. Stranger still, his actions did not feel like revenge. Nor did it feel as if she were being watched, as much as watched over. As she put the kettle on and prepared for the day ahead, she realized that the idea of Talent doing the watching made her feel safe. And wasn’t that the most unnerving sensation of all?

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