Shadow Cave (Shadows #1)

  ***

  The town was called Grandview, and it bore a striking resemblance to many of the medium sized west coast towns that I was so familiar with back home. It seemed to hold every modern convenience. A large stone building with a tower spire on top bore a sign that read ‘Library.’ There were two grocery stores, a video store, a furniture store, an outlet mall, five clothing stores, several factories, a salon, and a day care center.

  There was also a school and a hospital, and best of all, a coffee shop. There was so much so see and do. I wanted to visit each and every building that I drove by. I felt compelled to explore every inch of the city, to learn it inside and out. It was difficult to explain, but going through Grandview was like coming home. It fit somehow. I fit. Of course, I reasoned, my immediate warmth for the town could have been attributed to the fact that no one in town had tried to sell or kill me yet.

  More likely, it had to do with Bob, my ‘uncle’, Annabelle’s uncle. I found myself wondering about the real Annabelle while walking around the town square with my double latte. Who was she and where had she gone? Obviously looked like me, at least to some degree, and had disappeared seven years ago. Making a mental note to ask Bob if he had any family albums, I crossed the street to a park and took a seat on a heavy wooden bench. Lilacs were blooming in side sprays all around the park, and the scent was intoxicating, like the rose bushes in Marta’s garden.

  The charade could not go on for much longer. Bob and Marta were good people. They didn’t deserve to be lied to. If only there had been something else to do at the time. It was still terrifying to think what would have happened if Bob had not found me, especially with Lydia bidding on me. I was more grateful than Bob would ever know. He had probably saved my life that day. But the current situation would have to come to an end, and soon.

  I had a job to do. Finding my brother was my main concern. I stared down somewhat guiltily at my latte. Once I found Mike, we had to get home. I was lucky enough to have a wonderful family to return home to. But I was quickly finding that it didn’t mean Bob and Marta wouldn’t be missed—and even Harold, who had visited nearly every day. I tossed my empty Styrofoam cup into a trash receptacle and wiped my mouth. Whoever Annabelle was, she was one lucky girl to have such a loving family. The urge to help look for her was strong, and I dreaded the moment that I had to tell Bob and Marta my true identity.

  I climbed back into the car and tried to put everything else out of my mind except Mike. Finding him had to come first, and to do that, I needed to focus. The library seemed like the most logical place to start.

  The first thing that struck me about the library was the silence. The second was the smell. I was once again relieved to know that some things in life are absolute. Libraries and coffee were basically the same no matter where you went.

  I took a seat near the back and contemplated my next move in what I was coming to see as the giant chess game I had stumbled into.

  There were two places that it would be feasible and logical to start to research…the meadow and wherever Kahn could be found. I thought of how nice and tidy it would be if he actually lived somewhere in the meadow, if the meadow was real and if life was ever that tidy. It never was, but it was still a nice thought.

  I looked around at the two floors of books lining the walls and aisles. I could not begin to comprehend how many maps and historical books were housed on those massive shelves. I needed to narrow the search down, and I needed some help.

  The librarian’s station was large with a curved countertop-desk area. Books were stacked in neat rows on the desk. There was also a computer, an adding machine, a telephone, and two machines that I could not identify. My eyes lit up when I spotted the phone.

  “May I help you?”

  “Yes. I need help with some research; getting started,” I explained.

  She brushed her blonde hair back and smiled. “Getting started always seems to be the hardest part. Why don’t you tell me a little bit about your project and I can help you get started.”

  I considered blurting out ‘immortal sorcerers and imaginary meadows,’ but thought better of it at the last minute.

  “I’m looking for a meadow where green jewels hang from the trees. And I am looking for Kahn.”

  Her eyes grew wide and her horrified gaze darted around the room before coming back to rest on me.

  “I’m sorry. You have to leave now.”

  “But—”

  “No!” She put a hand out as if she expected to be forced to defend herself at any moment. “I can’t help you.”

  “I just want to look at a couple of books,” I protested in exasperation.

  She glanced around again and lowered her voice. “There is a woman who may be able to help you.”

  “Who would that be?”

  “Her name is Miranda. She lives at the north end of town.” She scribbled an address on a tiny scrap of paper and pushed it at me. “Please take it and go.”

  I shrugged and walked out before she could have a complete meltdown.

  The address was 2372 15th Street. The bookstore was on 14th, so I was pretty confident Miranda would not be too hard to find, and I was correct. I pulled into her driveway ten minutes later. Her house was a modest white Cape Cod style structure with black shutters and trim. The sign in the yard proclaimed ‘psychic’ in ornate black lettering. I turned the engine off and sat in the car for several minutes. The librarian had referred me to a psychic. I groaned but figured I ought to be grateful that there wasn’t a mental ward in town. Although, I considered as I climbed the steps a second later, a mental ward was sounding better by the hour. They probably had nerve pills.

  The old woman who answered the door was not at all what I expected. She wore a pale blue dress adorned with brightly patterned sunflowers, and she smelled like chocolate chip cookies.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi—I am Clai…ah, Annabelle. I’m here for…that is, I saw the sign in the yard—”

  “You’re here for a reading,” the woman guessed. “Come in.”

  The house was cool and comfortable. I was further surprised to find that it was tastefully decorated. There wasn’t a crystal ball or string of beads in sight.

  “No, I am not here for a reading. The woman at the library told me to come here. I asked her for help finding a book and some maps and she got scared, wrote down your address, and told me to leave.”

  Miranda laughed and motioned for me to sit. “Paula always did tend to be a bit on the nervous side. Now, if I may ask, what did you ask her to help you find that spooked her so terribly?”

  What the hell, I thought. Why not?

  “I asked her for help finding information about a meadow and Kahn.”

  “Ah. Well, therein lays the problem. Kahn is a sensitive topic for most people. Especially around here.”

  “I’m beginning to see that.”

  “There is good reason. Before there were protected areas, Grandview was one of the most targeted areas in this land,” she patiently explained.

  “Families were the first. You must understand that destruction requires something whole in order to exist: just as evil requires goodness. There was a lot of good in this town, a lot of children; and later, a lot of brave men and women who fought with everything they had.”

  “The city is beautiful.”

  “Yes, we have recovered. Most of the people here now are too young to remember the wars. But the stories never die. And sometimes the stories are worse than the reality.”

  “This area is safe now.”

  “No, child. The city is safe now. But beyond that, it is very dangerous.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “There are rumors of children who become curious and wander beyond the fence from time to time. They don’t come back.”

  “Is that true?”

  “Yes.” The woman’s eyes misted. “There are beasts there, both man and wild.”

  I swallowed past the lump that had suddenly
formed in my throat and thought of the real Annabelle.

  “So, you see, Kahn is a touchy subject here.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Why do you want to find him?”

  “From the sound of it, I don’t think that anybody ‘wants’ to find him.” I sighed. “But I’m looking for my brother. I think he went to find him—and kill him. Although, I’m not certain about that last part.”

  “I see.”

  When I didn’t respond, she prodded gently. “You also asked me about a meadow.”

  “Yes.” I told her about my dream and about the large gem that had mysteriously appeared in my bag. When I finished, she was staring at me with a look of deep concern.

  “What?” I asked in a shaky voice.

  “Do you still have the stone?”

  “Yes.” I gestured to the bag that sat beside me on the couch. “It’s right here.”

  “Open the bag, child.”

  “O-kay.” Her body became rigid across from me when I presented the stone. “Miranda?”

  “Oh my…but it can’t be.”

  “I wish everyone would stop doing that.” I ran a hand through my hair and lifted the stone up for a closer inspection. “What’s wrong with it? It’s just a gemstone. Isn’t it?”

  She took the stone from me and peered at it. “No,” she finally said. “This is no gemstone. It’s a seeing stone,” she warned.

  I shook my head helplessly. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know what that means. Are you talking about a crystal ball?” I guessed.

  “That’s no crystal ball. It belongs to Kahn. Someone took this from his meadow.”

  “So the meadow is real?”

  “Yes, it’s real.”

  “But I dreamed it. At least I think I did. Do you think the guards would have taken me there while I was unconscious?”

  “Perhaps,” Miranda mused.

  “Is that where he lives—in the meadow?”

  “No, his tower lies just beyond the meadow. The meadow is the portal to his world. He and he alone controls who may enter his domain.”

  I tried to process that disappointing bit of information. “So I can’t get there?”

  Miranda shook her head sadly. “Quite the opposite; I think he’s expecting you.”

  A chill came over me at her quiet words. “Why would he be expecting me?”

  But Miranda only shook her head. “That I cannot answer; I’m sorry.”

  “You can’t answer, or you won’t?” I’d learned that there was a difference.

  “I don’t know why he is expecting you.”

  “Then how can you say he is expecting me?”

  “The seeing stone…it’s an invitation.”

  “How do you mean? And why is it called a seeing stone? Oh, my God, can he see me through this thing?” The thought brought on a fresh wave of terror, and I hastily shoved it back into the bag and zipped it closed.

  “He can’t see you…not physically. But be warned that does not mean he cannot communicate with you.”

  “My dream….do you suppose that it wasn’t a dream after all? Or maybe it was, and I dreamed of the actual event…being in the meadow earlier.”

  “Perhaps…”

  My stomach seemed to plummet. “Do you think it was him, and not my brother?”

  Miranda slowly nodded. “Yes. Kahn is a shape shifter, among other things. But the real question is, what has drawn his attention to you?”

  “Well, okay, we can’t be sure that his attention is on me, really…” I trailed off.

  “The seeing stones can only be plucked from the trees by one hand. You’ve been summoned, Annabelle.”

  “Why?”

  “You must have something that he wants.”

  “So, my brother isn’t in the meadow or with Kahn?”

  “Now, that I do not know. He very well may be. Then again, he may not be.” Miranda helped me up and held my hands between hers. “I’m sorry.”

  “No, it’s okay. Thank you.”

  “What will you do?”

  “I’m not sure. I guess I’ll go see what he wants. What choice is there?”

  “No, you must not go to him. To go to him is suicide. You must know that.”

  “Yes, I guess you’re right. I think I’ll just go home and make a pot of tea. Go to bed early.”

  “Yes, that is a better idea.”

  “Thanks again.”

  “Be careful.”

  I waved one final time as I pulled out of her driveway and onto the road. Some psychic she was, I snorted. I flipped the radio on and steered the car toward the shore.

  I had remembered seeing a small beach at the edge of the city on my initial cruise through Grandview. A swim was just what I needed to clear my head. After that, a hot bath and a cup of coffee, in that order. I was determined to do nothing more strenuous than breathe and drift for at least the next hour. And when I was done, I would chart a course for my next plan of action.

  There were plenty of parking spaces at the beach when I pulled in and killed the engine. I raced down the dark sand and kicked my shoes off. Since I was alone, I stripped off my dress too. The water would have ruined the suede and the gown had been my last gift from Faith, not to mention it was absolutely gorgeous. I carefully set the dress and shoes on top of my bag, well away from the water.

  The water was blessedly cool, even if it was darker than I would have preferred. It wasn’t dirty, just typical lake water. The bottom of the lake was more rock than sand, so I turned onto my back and stared up at the sky while I floated along blissfully.

  “What are you doing?!”

  I jumped at the noise and swallowed a mouthful of water before firmly planting my feet on the rocks below.

  “What are you doing? Get out of there!” the man from the shore yelled again.

  I waved an arm at him while I coughed and sputtered. My nose stung and I wiped a hand over my face before answering him.

  “Swimming!”

  “Get out, now!”

  The man was at least thirty feet away, by the parking lot, and it was impossible to make out his features at that distance. He looked to be of average height and weight, though, and sounded younger. Younger than Uncle Bob at least, I snorted.

  “Why?” I shouted back. Was the beach private property? Was I trespassing? My second thought was that the beach was closed down for health and sanitation violations, like E Coli in the water. I hadn’t seen any signs posted, but then, who knew how they handled things like that here? I suddenly got a chill.

  “All right! I’m getting out!” Except all of a sudden I couldn’t move, I realized. I struggled for a few minutes before I figured out that it wasn’t the panicked exertion causing me to sweat, it was the water. Where it had been cool and comfortable only moments before, it was now hot, bordering on scorching. The gentle waves I had been enjoying began to churn ominously around me. The sky overhead was black. In the distance, I saw a shadow moving toward me under the surface of the water. It was huge, nearly the size of a house, and the water became increasingly hotter with its approach.

  The man who had been on the beach was gone. This is it then, I thought, because how do you run when you can’t move? And how to you fight something that you can’t see, when you can’t even move? I closed my eyes and continued to thrash out at the waves. There’s always a chance, I reminded myself, fiercely…desperately.

  I screamed when I felt the first pull on my legs. Something was wrapping around my arms and legs and pulling me underneath the surface of the water. I kicked out and tried to struggle but it was no use. It was like wading through Jello. Not that I have ever done that, I thought dimly. I was completely submerged now and being pulled through the water. My lungs burned from holding my breath for so long. Soon I would run out of air, and I would die. I was going to die without ever having waded through a pool of Jello. Without ever having done a lot of things. Tears stung my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I could not breathe. Spot
s appeared behind my eyelids, and I knew it was only a matter of seconds before I opened my mouth to gulp air and got boiling lake water instead. The fear in that moment was overwhelming and inevitable. Survival instincts alone had me clinging to my last breath.

  I hit something solid then and released the meager breath I was holding. I gasped involuntarily and gulped the air. Air? I opened my eyes and fell back in relief. Air—I was on the beach. I was alive, and from the looks of it, I was safe too. The man from the shore must have jumped into the water when everything went black. I turned my head to get a better look at my rescuer.

  He was tall, although it was hard to tell because he was crouched in a sitting position beside me. His hair was light brown, but I thought it may have been blonde when it wasn’t wet. His eyes were dark brown.

  “Are you okay?”

  I sat up and looked down to make sure I was in one piece. “Yes, I think so.”

  “What were you thinking, swimming in that water?”

  “I wanted to relax,” I retorted.

  “Well, another minute and you would have been relaxing, all right. Permanently.”

  I shivered and stared out over the waves again. “What was that thing? What happened out there?”

  “You don’t know?”

  I shook my head. “No, everything was fine, and then all of a sudden everything went black. I couldn’t move, and the water was getting hotter by the second,” I recalled. “There was a shadow in the water. What the hell was that thing?”

  “A land beast.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “A land beast; everyone knows about the land beasts. They can swim, you know. Are you not from around here?”

  “No, I’m not…exactly. Well, I am…” I corrected as I remembered that I was Annabelle, who’d grown up here.

  “You are? Or you’re not?” he asked in confusion.

  “I am. I hit my head.”

  “Just now, you hit your head?”

  “No, week before last.”

  “I see. And no one told you about the land beasts?”

  “No.” I remembered Miranda mentioning something about beasts. “Yes. Damn,” I swore. “But she didn’t say anything about sea monsters.”

  “Actually, it’s a lake.”

  “Fine…lake monsters. She still didn’t say anything about them.”

  “She?”

  “Miranda.”

  “Huh,” he grunted.

  “This is a protected area.”

  “The beach is protected. The water is not.”

  “Well, damn.” I brushed my wet hair back and stood up slowly before I realized that I was in my underwear in front of a total stranger. I started to sit back down but thought better of it because I knew that it would not help. He had already seen it, and I would just end up getting even more sand on my butt. To his credit, he didn’t stare much.

  “Why are they called land beasts?” I inquired as I picked up my belongings.

  “They used to be on land. So you have amnesia, then?”

  “Yes, it’s something like that.” The excitement had died down and my head was beginning to throb.

  “Is that your car up there?”

  “Yes. Well, it’s my uncle’s car, anyway.” I noticed that mine was still the only car in the lot. “How did you get here?”

  “I walked.”

  “Oh. Well, can I give you a lift home, then? It’s no trouble.” At least it was nowhere near the trouble he had put himself through for me.

  “That would be nice, but I’m thinking that you should not drive right now. You don’t look so good.”

  I could only imagine what I must have looked like. “You’re right. Here.” I tossed the keys to him and climbed into the car. I hoped Uncle Bob wouldn’t mind about the interior of one of his new cars getting wet, and was grateful that the seats were regular fabric instead of leather, although something told me Bob wouldn’t have cared about the car no matter what the seat covers were.

  “What’s your name?” I asked the stranger when he had shut the door and started the car. He turned the heat on and rubbed his hands together in front of the blower before he looked at me.

  “Mark.”

  “Hi, Mark. I’m Annabelle.”

  “I would say nice to meet you, Annabelle, but this was not a nice way to meet, was it?”

  I had to laugh at that. “No, it was not. But I’m glad you happened to be walking along the beach today.”

  He smiled and steered the car onto the main road. “So am I. Where am I taking you, Annabelle?”

  I frowned at the simple question when it occurred to me that I didn’t know where I lived. If I hadn’t been so exhausted, I would have laughed.

  “It’s a big white house,” I sighed. Boy, that probably helps a lot, I thought sarcastically.

  “It’s a big white house.”

  “Yes, my uncle Bob lives there. And his housekeeper, Marta, lives there too.”

  I almost missed the look of shock that the man in the driver’s seat sent me.

  “I know, that doesn’t help you much, I’m sorry. It must be my amnesia,” I explained.

  “No, it helps. I know where it is.”

  “You do?”

  “Sure. I grew up there.”

  I shifted around in my seat. “You’re Bob’s son, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “What are the odds?” I murmured to myself. I stared out the window at the passing scenery before turning back to Mark.

  “Well, hello all over again, Mark; I’m your cousin Annabelle.” Damn, I hated lying. I frowned.

  He nodded and patted my shoulder. “Just lay back and close your eyes for a minute, okay? We should be there soon.”

  “Thanks, I think I will.” I yawned and closed my eyes, drifting off to sleep before I could help myself.

  Mark leaned over and carefully shook my left shoulder when we reached the house. I was glad that he shook me rather than tapping my shoulder. There was nothing I hated more than a finger tapper. Having a finger repeatedly jabbed into my arm was not a pleasant way to wake up.

  “We’re here.”

  “I see that. Thanks.”

  “Not a problem. I was headed here, anyway.”

  “I meant for saving my life too.”

  “Oh, that.”

  “Yes, that.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Are you going to explain this to Bob, or do I have to?”

  Mark shook his head sadly. “I don’t think it will make any difference, Annabelle. Let’s go and get this over with.”

  I sighed. “Okay.”

  Mark was right—it didn’t make a difference which one of us was telling the story, although, I was pretty sure that his eyes bulged a bit more when I was the one doing the telling. Mark and I took turns relaying the horrific scene for the old man. Funny thing about nearly being eaten alive by a lake monster the size of a cottage, there really wasn’t any way to gloss over the incident.

  “I should have taken time to go with you, Annabelle. You were nearly killed and it’s my fault.”

  “No, Uncle, it’s not your fault in the least.”

  “That’s kind of you to say so, dear. Now go on upstairs and wash up. Marta will be serving dinner in an hour.”

  I nodded and climbed the stairs, then shut the bathroom door and took a minute to simply lean against the solid oak; after my near-death experience, anything solid felt like a blessing. I chose not to try and figure out what number the near-death experience of the lake monster came out to. I did a long, slow stretch and considered myself lucky in some respect. For one thing, I was still alive. And the way I figured, it was a good thing I had gotten so used to the near misses lately…otherwise I would have really been freaking out.

  I sat on the ledge of the white porcelain tub and pushed the stopper into the drain to run a bath. The clear water swirled around the drain as it filled the tub. I stared at the sloshing water and began t
o shake. In my mind I was back in the lake, surrounded by heat and danger and things that went bump in the night. Abruptly, I yanked the stopper out of the drain and jumped away from the tub before taking three deep breaths.

  I held my head high and stared down at the bathtub. “No matter…I will simply take a shower.”

  So I couldn’t stand to take a bath. I would get over it, eventually, and on my own time, I reassured myself as I stowed my bag in the closet and put on a fresh gown. My hour was almost up, but I took the time to blow dry my hair and brush it out. I couldn’t help but wonder if Mark had chosen to take a bath, or a shower, like me. I plunked the brush down onto the dresser and told myself that it didn’t matter. But there was no denying the fact that he was attractive. And brave, I added with a sigh of relief. He was very brave. He was also off limits. He was Bob’s only son and my ‘cousin.’ The makings of a hot love affair, it was not. Not to mention we were literally from different worlds. And I had a job to do. I would be leaving before I knew it, and…

  “And why am I even thinking about this?” I asked myself. It must have had something to do with me almost dying and him saving my life. I shook my head and took the stairs two at a time to the dining room.

  Marta waited until we were all seated before she began dishing out roasted chicken breasts, salad, and dinner rolls. I sipped on the ice water she placed in front of me and thanked her. She rolled her eyes and sat down to her own plate.

  “I heard you went and almost got yourself killed, girl.”

  “Yes, Marta, I did.”

  “Hmm,” she grunted.

  “It was a good thing Mark found me. He was walking along the beach, and he jumped in after me.”

  “It was nothing, really.” Mark shrugged and tore his dinner roll in half.

  “Nothing? Why, you saved our Annabelle! It’s a night for celebration, that’s what it is! My Annabelle is safe, and my son has come home at last!”

  “Maybe home to stay,” Mark added.

  “To stay! Did you hear that Marta? Our boy might be here to stay.” He winked.

  “Of course I heard him. I’m not deaf.”

  “That’s great news,” I announced to my dinner plate.

  “Yes, but tell me, what are your plans, Annabelle?” Mark asked.

  “I…well, I am not sure yet,” I admitted. That much was true.

  “Nonsense, she’s going to stay right here at home where she belongs.”

  “She’s not a prisoner, Dad,” Mark admonished.

  “I didn’t say that she was. But, it’s time for the girl to relax a little. Shop, go dancing, get a hobby. And then, maybe meet a nice man and put her roots down,” he declared.

  My fork clattered to my plate. I retrieved it quickly and shoved a hunk of chicken into my mouth so that I wouldn’t have to reply to that sentiment.

  “Yes, but you do realize that she might not want to stay?”

  “That’s nonsense.”

  “Right…what was I thinking?” Mark shook his head and turned to me. “So, where have you been hiding all these years, Anna? Do you mind if I call you Anna?”

  “Anna is fine.” I nodded. “Well, it’s such a boring story. It’s tedious really; I’ve just been here and there.”

  “Oh, but I would love to hear about it.”

  “Maybe Uncle Bob could tell the story?”

  “You want me to tell it?”

  “My throat is parched,” I explained. I coughed and took another sip of water to prove it.

  I kept my head down as Bob told my sordid tale of young love gone bad and gypsies. I glanced up to find Mark regarding me with humor in his eyes, and I could tell that he was doing his best not to smile.

  “Then those guards captured her and hit her on the head. She looked just awful, didn’t she Marta?”

  “Awful,” Marta confirmed.

  “She helped a girl escape, isn’t that right, Annabelle?”

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  Uncle Bob threw an arm around my shoulders in a quick hug. “This is one brave girl we have here.”

  “Yes,” Mark agreed easily. “Brave is a word that suits her.”

  “So, what did you study in school, Mark?” I asked quickly, wanting to change the subject.

  “Architectural design.”

  “So you’re an architect? You design buildings?”

  “Yes.”

  “We’re so proud of you, son.” Bob leaned over and threw his other arm around Mark. He squeezed and we nearly fell out of our chairs.

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  “You know, it’s about time you started thinking about putting down some roots of your own.”

  Mark looked me up and down for a moment before he finally sat back and nodded.

  “Maybe it is.”

  I ducked my head. I couldn’t believe my own ears. I was his cousin! At least, he thought so. Of all the—

  “Well,” Bob laughed awkwardly. “That was a wonderful meal, Marta. I think I will go to the solarium for a brandy and a cigar. Son, why don’t you join me?”

  “I think I’ll go sit in the library for a bit.” I scooted my chair back and made a hasty exit. I felt Mark’s eyes on me the entire time, and it took every bit of focus and concentration I possessed, but somehow I made it out of the room without stumbling.