Free Bound by Shadow by Anna Windsor Page A

Riana, he could see piles and pieces of shattered glass, smashed mirror frames, and wind chime pipes scattered on the floor. The sight of the destruction he had caused quelled his interest, at least temporarily.
    Damn, but he had done this mess up right. Even the walls had been ruined by sprays of dirt and blackened streaks of soot. One piece of a mirror dangled from its hook, showing him flickering images of the rest of the room, which didn’t look much better.
    At least there weren’t any bodies. But…he was naked. He looked back at Riana, tore his eyes away from the tempting bits of soft, tanned skin he could see through the holes in her jumpsuit, then had to fight not to stare into her worried green eyes. Despite the acid churning in his gut, despite his humiliation and frustration, naked was going to be a problem next to this woman—and fast.
    He tried to swallow, but his throat was so dry he coughed instead. His voice came out in a thirsty rasp. “At least nobody’s dead, right?”
    The big wooden table, the one he remembered from his first visit to the brownstone, shook slightly beneath him. The hair on the back of Creed’s neck stood up, but he was too weak to turn and face the threat he sensed.
    Cold steel pressed against the side of his neck and smashed the blanket against his shoulder.
    Creed went so still he didn’t even breathe.
    Riana glared upward as his attacker said, “Nobody’s dead, you bastard. No thanks to you. What the hell was that—that thing you turned into?”
    Creed recognized the redhead’s voice. Cynda. And she wasn’t holding a knife to his throat. She was holding a friggin’ sword. Merilee came into view and stopped beside Riana. With a pointed frown in Creed’s direction, she tucked a strand of blond hair behind her ear and handed Riana a glass of water. The water’s surface rippled from the strange wind inside the brownstone.
    With my luck, that water’s poisoned, or the glass will explode when I touch it.
    “Back off.” Riana kept her intense stare leveled on Cynda. She added, “Please,” like she didn’t really want to say it.
    Cynda moved the sword a fraction of an inch away from Creed’s neck, enough that he felt comfortable reaching for the water and taking his chances about whether or not it would kill him on the first swallow.
    It didn’t.
    Creed gulped the cool liquid, letting it loosen his throat enough to say, “I’m sorry.” He chanced Cynda’s reaction time and turned more fully toward Riana, who let go of his arm. He missed the touch instantly and wanted it back, but he settled for wrapping the blanket around himself, at least enough to shield the important parts. “I would never hurt you on purpose.”
    She studied him for a moment, long enough for the heat of her gaze to make him glad he had a blanket over his cock. Then she shrugged. “You did try to warn us, at least.”
    Cynda swore. The sword retreated another inch, resting on his shoulder now, but still perilously close to his neck.
    Merilee stood on the periphery of his vision, arms folded—and he thought she might have a bow slung over her shoulder. She asked Cynda’s question again, and when she did, the breezes in the brownstone gusted. “What did you turn into when we took off your ring? Tell us now, if you want to walk out of here alive.”
    Creed addressed his response to Riana. “I really don’t know. I’ve always called it the other .” Out of habit, he almost let go of the blanket to touch his ring. “I try to keep it inside.”
    Silence answered him.
    Riana’s green eyes narrowed with an emotion Creed couldn’t read. Anger? Suspicion?
    Fear?
    “My twin has one, too,” he said, hoping she believed him. “An other . Only I think his is worse. Maybe that’s why he went missing.”
    More silence. More scrutiny from Riana. A twitch from the sword resting on his shoulder. A hiss from Merilee, followed by a hiss of wind that chilled his damp face.
    Shit. These women didn’t