Free Angel in the Shadows by Amy Deason Page B

way, he would do what he had to. But he was positive of one thing. If this woman died, especially by his hands, it would be considered a failure. His failure.
    He suddenly wished for the first time, that he was someone else. Anybody but who he was. Someone with a normal life, a normal job. Someone with a wife and kids, a nice house, and maybe a dog. But that was impossible of course. He had turned away from the chance of a normal life long ago. There could be no going back to who he once had been. There was only this, here and now. An endless cycle of lies and secrets, violence and death. Still, his eyes lingered, wishing.
    With a sigh that shook him to his core, he shook himself harshly. Standing tall and resolute, he turned away from the bed, leaving Madison safe and alive. For now.
    She was blind! Oh God, she couldn’t see! Panic bloomed in her chest making her heart seize convulsively. Where the hell was she? Madison turned her head left, then right but everything was dark and her neck hurt. What was going on? Taking a deep breath, she fought against the fear enveloping her. She tried desperately to remember what happened to her but her brain was fuzzy. Her mouth watered and she swallowed thickly, her mouth and throat feeling as though they were filled with cotton.
    “There’s a glass of water on the table beside you,” a soft, male voice replied from across the room.
    Her breath caught in her throat. That voice, she knew that voice . . . God, what happened? Why was she here? What the hell was going on? And who was the man in the room with her? What was she going to do? Maybe if she didn’t move, he would think she was still asleep, buying her a few more minutes to figure things out.
    “I know you’re awake so you might as well drink something.”
    So much for that rational plan . Sitting up slowly, she disregarded the water and turned in the direction of his voice. The room wasn’t as dark as she first thought. Pale light crept in through an open doorway, making it possible for her to see her captor. Seth sat in an overstuffed chair; his attention was not focused on her but on a cell phone. The light from the screen illuminated his face, making him appear haunted. Madison squeezed her eyes shut, trying desperately to get a hold of herself.
    “You know, this Robert is quite a character.” His tone was light, conversational. “And just how many pictures do you need of a cat ?”
    Madison’s eyes flew open, staring at him incredulously. The bastard had her cell phone!
    “What the hell . . .?” she managed to croak, her voice failing as her throat clicked painfully.
    Never taking his eyes from the screen, he replied flippantly, “What? Can’t hear you. You might want to drink some of that water. It’ll help your scratchy throat.”
    Fury ripped through her at his nonchalance, effectively dashing her confusion. She reached out, grabbing the glass of water and flung it at his head. The glass never even came close, hitting the wall on his left and shattering on impact. Though he never flinched in the least, Seth raised his eyes to hers, chilling her anger instantly.
    “If you didn’t want the water, all you had to do was say so,” he said calmly, standing up with graceful ease.
    She shrank back as he rose from the chair and crossed the room, cell phone still clutched loosely in his hand. But instead of approaching her, he walked out of the room without another word.
    She surveyed the room, looking for a way out. There didn’t seem to be much hope. The sterile room was windowless, the only furniture, the chair, an end table, and the narrow bed she was laying on. From the other room, she heard running water and swung her eyes back to the open doorway. Seth had come back, carrying another glass of water. He held it out to her, his eyes piercing hers.
    “Here, drink this. And don’t even think about throwing it. I won’t offer you anymore.”
    She paused, considering his words and took the glass from him. Her