Way of the Shadows. Cynthia Eden

      

       “It’s not you that I’m afraid of, okay? It’s … this place.”

      He was silent behind her. But his fingers moved lightly against her stomach. Almost as if he were caressing her.

      “We’re safe.”

      Her gaze slid to the right. His gun was there. Within easy reach. “Sometimes, I don’t ever feel safe.” As soon as she said the words, Noelle wished that she could call them back. She’d never made that confession to anyone.

      “Why not?” His hold tightened.

      Noelle shook her head. She was feeling warmer, so much warmer now. The shivers and shudders were easing. “Because I’m never sure what waits in the darkness.”

      Way of

      the Shadows

      Cynthia Eden

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author CYNTHIA EDEN writes tales of romantic suspense and paranormal romance. Her books have received starred reviews from Publishers Weekly, and she has received a RITA^® Award nomination for best romantic suspense novel. Cynthia lives in the Deep South, loves horror movies and has an addiction to chocolate. More information about Cynthia may be found on her website, www.cynthiaeden.com, or you can follow her on Twitter, www.twitter.com/cynthiaeden.

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      A big thanks to Denise and Shannon at Mills & Boon Intrigue—thank you so much for giving me the opportunity to write about the Shadow Agents.

      For my wonderful readers … thank you for all the support that you’ve given to the men and women of the EOD. I hope that you’ve enjoyed their tales!

      Contents

       Cover

       Introduction

       Title Page

       About the Author

       Dedication

       Prologue

       Chapter One

       Chapter Two

       Chapter Three

       Chapter Four

       Chapter Five

       Chapter Six

       Chapter Seven

       Chapter Eight

       Chapter Nine

       Chapter Ten

       Chapter Eleven

       Chapter Twelve

       Extract

       Copyright

       Prologue

      The darkness was all she knew. It surrounded her, seemed to suffocate her. It bound her as deeply, as securely as the ropes around her wrists.

      Fear coiled around Noelle Evers as she waited in the dark. She was waiting for her own death, and she knew it. That certainty was there, filling her mind—that and nothing else. So when the door opened and she heard the squeak of wood, Noelle tensed.

      The light spilled forward. The wood squeaked again.

      Someone was coming toward her....

      The beam of a flashlight slit through her eyes, blinding her because it was such a sharp contrast to the darkness.

      “Found her!” A man’s voice called. It was deep and rough, heavy with relief. “She’s alive!”

      Noelle squinted as she tried to see past that bright light.

      More footsteps thudded toward her. Then hands were on her. Rough, strong hands. They pulled at her ropes then yanked her out of the chair and to her feet.

      “It’s all right,” that deep, rumbling voice told her. “You’re safe now.”

      She didn’t believe him.

      There were more lights then, sweeping into the room. It looked like...a cabin? She was in a cabin? In the darkness, she hadn’t been able to tell anything about her surroundings, but she could now see glimpses of an old, log-lined cabin.

      She licked her lips. Her mouth felt so dry. She had to swallow three times before she managed, “H-how did...I g-get here?”

      His face was in shadows, but he was tall, with broad shoulders and a gun strapped to his hip.

      Noelle backed up when she saw the weapon. Her feet slipped on something. She glanced down and saw a twisting mass of rope near her feet.

      “Easy,” he told her, and his grip tightened around her arms. “I’m a deputy. We’re all with the Coleman County Sheriff’s Department, and we’re here to take you home.”

      She’d...she’d been at home...sleeping in her bed... Noelle remembered that. She’d gone to sleep—and awoken to darkness.

      “Sheriff!” Another voice cried out then, breaking with what sounded like fear.

      The deputy pulled Noelle close as he hurried toward that cry.

      The flashlights all hit the far left corner of the room. They fell on the man sprawled there. A man who was dead—his throat had been cut. The man stared sightlessly back at them while his blood formed a dark pool beneath him.

      The deputy’s hold on Noelle tightened. “Who is that?” he demanded.

      Noelle started to shake.

      “Ms. Evers...” His voice gentled a bit. “Is he one of the