From the Shadows (Hunters #1)

Chapter 2

Shay Nowak needed a second job. Like yesterday. His landlord had sent letters to the remaining tenants saying they were raising the rent. Again. For the rathole he lived in, the insane amount of money they wanted was so not worth it. One of his neighbors had mentioned that the owner was trying to drive everyone out so he could sell the building to a company looking to “revitalize the area” and get some big bucks out of it.

Shay knew he needed to go somewhere else, but he’d lived in this place since he moved out of his parents’ home eight years ago, and even though the paint was peeling, the gross carpet was frayed pretty much everywhere, and there were water spots on his ceiling, it was his home. Besides, it wasn’t like the landlord would give him back the deposit he’d put on the apartment. That money was well and truly gone.

He scanned the help wanted ads on Monster, but nothing was jumping out at him. They either wanted someone with a Master’s degree or ten years’ experience. Shay had neither. It didn’t matter that what he lacked in credentials, he more than made up for in enthusiasm. Employers didn’t seem to care about that. They wanted the best people they could get for the lowest wages they could pay. Whatever. Those jobs weren’t what Shay was after.

Thanks to his mom and grandparents, Shay knew how to cook a variety of simple, wholesome dishes and was well-versed in CPR and first aid. Those skills plus the fact that he loved to clean would make him ideal for taking care of a family. And that was what he wanted, more than anything. To help guide someone, to be a mentor, a friend, a protector. He’d give everything if he could do that.

Sadly, those jobs never popped up on the sites. Plus, most people were leery of a man who wanted to take care of kids. Damned people who claimed they wanted to work with children, then betrayed them in the worst possible ways made it harder for Shay to find his dream job.

Shay often fantasized about the life he would love to have. He’d make enough money to be a little more than comfortable. One of the things he enjoyed doing was making lists of items he’d love to have in his own place. From furniture to clothes to cars, Shay wrote them down, then revisited them whenever he was feeling like a failure. Which, especially lately, had been pretty often.

1211 Bright Ridge Road.

Shay startled as he twisted in his seat. He was so certain he’d heard a woman’s voice, but he didn’t see anyone there. He shook his head, because who’d be in his apartment? He went back to his search.

1211 Bright Ridge Road.

This time he stood, certain he’d heard a voice. “Hello? Is someone there?”

This was like a slasher movie, where a vengeful spirit would burst into the room to drag Shay’s soul to hell for a perceived wrong he’d done. When his phone rang, Shay yelped and might have jumped a foot in the air. Then he laughed at how ridiculous he was being. He picked up the phone, an ancient piece of crap with a cracked screen and two missing buttons. He stabbed Answer four times before it finally worked.

“Hello? ”

“Yes, good morning. This is the Umbridge Employment Agency. Is this Shay Nowak?”

What the hell? “I’m sorry. Who did you say you were?”

“Oh, forgive me. I’m Melissa Carmichael with Umbridge Employment Agency.”

“I’m sorry, you must have the wrong number.”

“No,” she said, stretching out the O. “I.… Hm. Can I ask you to hold one moment, please?” Before Shay could respond, canned music filled his ears. Shay was tempted to hang up, but she had his name, so now he was curious. “Mr. Nowak?”

“Yes?”

“Hi, did you apply for a domestic housekeeper position last month, and?—”

“No, I didn’t. I’ve never even heard of your company before.”

She blew out a frustrated breath. “That can’t be right. The people called today and said they saw the posting and wanted to talk with you. We don’t…. Your number is in our database, and…. Well, that’s weird.”

“What is?”

“It shows it’s been in our system thirty-six days, but the date on this is today. In fact, it came in a few minutes ago. This doesn’t make any sense. I’ll have our IT people look into it. I’m…. I’m sorry to have bothered you. We’ll remove you from our list.”

Just as she was about to hang up, Shay heard the voice again.

Take this assignment. If you don’t, you will regret it.

Shay froze, then called out, “Wait, Ms. Carmichael!”

“Yes?”

“I…. I do need a job,” Shay admitted. “Would I be able to go meet the people?”

She hummed. “Well, you’re not one of our clients, and it would be highly irregular, but…. Well, I mean, we do have you on our list, and they did ask about you specifically…. Sure. Go ahead. The address is?—”

“Wait. Let me guess—1211 Bright Ridge Road.”

“How… how did you know that? ”

Shay shook his head. This whole thing was beyond weird. “I doubt you’d believe me. Thank you. I’ll head over there shortly.”

“Don’t you want the details?”

He thought about it, but then realized he was enjoying the surprise. “Nah, it’ll be an adventure. Thank you for your time.”

He disconnected, then stood to take a shower. He doubted anyone would hire him, but there was no sense in showing up smelling like ass. A quick once-over under the tepid water, a double application of deodorant, and then Shay hit his closet. He didn’t have a lot of nice clothes, but he did like the emerald green sweater and white polo combination with some dark blue, nearly black slacks, even though his so-called friends said he looked like he dressed in the dark.

After removing the lint from his sweater and applying a liberal application of gel to tame his unruly blond hair, Shay thought he would pass the muster. If they were blind. That thought dragged a deep sigh out of him. Not wanting to speak with anyone at the bus stop, he grabbed the old iPod he’d picked up from the thrift store and blasted ZZ Top as they sang about being a sharp dressed man, which made him snort. He went down the street to catch the number twelve that would take him to Bright Ridge Road. Throughout the bus ride, Shay had the feeling someone was watching him. He stared ahead, not wanting to look around, but that niggle persisted. Fortunately, the trip was short. Shay got off the bus and was shocked to see he was outside the address he wanted.

He gazed up at the house, and he had to stop himself from gasping. How had he never noticed this place before? It was beautiful. An enormous, three-story Victorian with a wraparound porch on each level. Big picture windows were evenly spaced, but they seemed dark. The grounds were meticulously tended to, that much was evident. Three small topiaries stood around the gleaming marble fountain that shot spray into the air, where it became an iridescent display to rival any fireworks Shay had ever seen. He approached the wrought iron gate and found a callbox. This wasn’t the place for someone like him. Still, he needed to know what was going on. With a shaky hand he pressed the button. He barely waited a moment.

“Yes?” came a man’s deep voice.

“H-Hi, my name is?—”

“Shay? I’m so glad you came!”

It was the lady Shay had heard. The one that told him he needed to come here.

“Who are you?”

“Well, if you come inside, you’ll meet me and the rest of the family.”

The gate swung open, and Shay stood there, staring back at the bus stop where the coach sat idling, as if seeing what he’d do. He could jump on again, and pretend he’d never seen the place, but his sense of wonder and curiosity pulled him forward. As soon as he was through, the gate closed with a soft snick and the vehicle pulled away.

When he walked up the drive, Shay noticed things he hadn’t before. The grounds, though beautiful, had cameras in plain sight. There were also cars to the side of the house that Shay couldn’t have seen from the street. He wasn’t big on cars himself unless it was a concept one, especially since he usually depended on buses to get him around, but the ones parked on the lot seemed to be expensive as hell. What was this place?

He got to the door, and as he was about to knock, it swung open. He waited for someone to tell him to come in, but there were no such entreaties. He peeked his head in, but saw no one.

“Hello?” he called out. His own voice echoed in the foyer of the ritziest house he’d ever seen. All the banisters were dark wood and the floors white marble, and with the sun gleaming in so bright, Shay almost got a headache. He stepped inside, and the moment he did, the door closed gently behind him with a soft click.

“Nope, too weird,” he muttered, then tried the door, only to find it was locked. “What the hell?”

“Shay! Thank you for coming.”

He spun on his heel and found an elegant woman coming down the stairs. She was tall, maybe six foot. Of course, with Shay being five six, it guaranteed pretty much everyone around him was tall. As she got to the bottom of the stairs, Shay could see more clearly that the black spaghetti-strap dress she wore came down to her ankles. Around her slender, graceful neck was a brilliant blue stone set into a silver—or maybe platinum—necklace and on the right ankle hung a thin chain with a silver bell on it. The woman was the epitome of grace and elegance, with the outfit emphasizing it. Her auburn hair was done up in a style similar to Rhianna, and it showed off her expressive face and beautiful blue eyes. The light shadow on the lids made Shay a little jealous of her beauty.

“My name is Patrice Donnelly, and I need your help.”

“M-My help?”

She smiled, showing the whitest teeth Shay had ever seen. “Yes, Shay. You come highly recommended.”

“You must have the wrong person,” Shay admitted, knowing full well no one would suggest him for anything.

“Oh, I sincerely doubt that. Come,” she said, crooking her finger as if the gesture would ensure he followed. Which he did.

Shay trailed behind her to an enormous great room. She gestured to the sofa that looked like a piece of art, not something you plopped your barely washed butt on.

“I’ll stand, if it’s okay,” Shay muttered.

“Nonsense.” She took a seat on the couch and patted the spot beside her. “Sit, please.”

Shay sat primly, not wanting his grubby clothes to touch something that was probably worth more than Shay could make in a hundred lifetimes.

“Shay Nowak, twenty-four. Son of Craig and Melissa Nowak. Formerly of Westbury, New York. You bounced from job to job, and you currently live in a… well, please pardon the expression, a hovel. You’ve been trying to find a job that matches your talents, but as of yet have been unable to do so.”

Shame coursed through Shay. This woman knew way too much about him. “H-How do you know these things?”

“That’s not the point. At least not right now. I’ve done my research, and I find that your former employers had very complimentary thoughts about you. They’re aware you weren’t a fit for the job you took, though they were impressed at how hard you worked. They all thought you could excel at something if you truly loved it.”

That made Shay feel a little better. “If I ever find it, you mean.”

She gave him that toothy smile again. “Which is why you’re here. I have an opportunity for you, and I believe it’s more in line with what you’re seeking.”

“Oh? And how do you know what I’m looking for?” he challenged.

“You want to be needed. You’re looking for a job where you can take care of people. Nothing gives you a thrill like serving a meal and having people sit down to enjoy it. You love to clean, and if you’re not moving, you’re nervous and become bored. Does that sound right?”

Shay stood and glared at Ms. Donnelly. “There is no way you could know these things.”

“Of course there is. Like I did with your former employers, I read your mind.”

Shay gaped. She had said the previous employers “thought,” never that they’d spoken, but c’mon. “That’s ridiculous.” He stood. “Thank you for the opportunity, but it’s obvious we are looking for different things.”

He stalked through the room, when he heard that voice again.

Shay, please come back. I assure you I’ll explain everything. You’re going to need to know the people you’ll be working with. They’re… a motley crew, and they need someone who can not only think on his feet, but also adapt to stressful situations. And there’s a child to consider, as well. He’s seven, and my people can’t give him the full attention he needs.

That brought Shay up short. “A child?”

His name is Jeremy. Please, come back to the living area. I promise I’ll tell you everything.

As if he had no will of his own, Shay turned and retraced his steps.

The lady still sat on the sofa, her legs crossed at the ankles, the bell tinkling softly as she moved. She sipped from a delicate white cup with a bright blue flower print on it. She gestured to the table. “ The butler brought tea and finger sandwiches. Would you like me to have him come back to serve you?”

“What? No. I… I can do it.”

She gave him a knowing nod. “Very well.”

Shay poured himself a cup, inhaling the scented steam that wafted from the cup. Hints of vanilla and almond tickled Shay’s nose. He tilted his head upward and met Ms. Donnelly’s gaze. “Would you like me to refresh yours?” he asked.

“Please,” Ms. Donnelly said, holding out her cup.

Shay poured for her, then sat where he’d been before. He didn’t know why he wasn’t running out the door, because he had a feeling things were about to get weird. Well, weirder.

“Do you read novels?”

“If what you said is true, I have a feeling you’re already well aware of that answer.”

The corner of her lip curled up just a bit and her sapphire blue eyes sparkled. “Yes, I am. You’re drawn to the supernatural. The favorites from your reading list include Frankenstein and Dracula , as well as books with werewolves and a host of other creatures most believe exist only in fantasy. Your taste in films are a bit more esoteric, although you still love the paranormal movies and have seen all fifteen seasons of Supernatural —twice—and are still in love with Sam, Dean, and Castiel. You’ve written fan fiction with the three of them as lovers in endless combinations.”

She could read his mind. That was the only explanation. No one knew about the stories he wrote. He did them all—thirty at current count—under a pseudonym: Shaymless. He knew he should be freaked out by what was happening, but this was too amazing to walk away from.

“You have questions, so feel free to ask them.”

“Is this for real?”

“You know it is. Right now you’re worried that people will find out about your writing, but I promise it won’t be from me. Though I will admit, in my research of you, I have read several of your stories and….” She fanned herself. “You have a very… active and gymnastic imagination. ”

A flush of heat ran through Shay’s body. Fine, he had a vivid imagination. Porn was boring, especially when compared to writing his own scenes. And while he wrote threesomes and moresomes, Shay wasn’t interested in a relationship with more than one person. One man he could give his attention to, love, and take care of was what he wanted. Like his mom took care of his father every day in their twelve years of marriage that was cut tragically short.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Ms. Donnelly said, reaching out and placing her hand atop his. “Losing one’s parents, especially at so early an age, is devastating.”

“My grandma loved me,” Shay insisted, even though it never seemed like it.

“She did, in her own way. It was hard for her to express love, because her own parents had been so distant.”

This woman knew things she couldn’t possibly. “How can you know that?”

“My abilities are limited, but strong. I can read the residual energies from an item. In my research of you, I’ve located a few letters your grandmother wrote. They told me the truth of her feelings for you. She loved you as much as she could. She missed her daughter—your mother—and thought you looked like her. It was hard to see sometimes, but she did care.” She glanced down. “May I see your watch?”

Shay pulled his hand away and slapped it over his wrist. This had been the graduation gift his parents had scrimped and saved for. They’d put it aside for him, but didn’t live long enough to give it to him. Shay’d seen it in a magazine and fell in love. When his gran had given it to him, Shay cried himself to sleep over the next several nights, missing his parents terribly.

“I promise you, no harm will come to your possession. Please, trust me.”

The jewel in her necklace—sapphire maybe?—glittered in the bright sunlight, and she gave a soft smile. Shay wasn’t sure which was more brilliant. He slid the watch off his wrist and handed it to her. She clasped it in her hands and her lids drifted shut. Several moments passed, and then her eyes went wide. They were no longer the deep blue, but now a stark white.

“Do you think he’ll like it?”

That voice. It was his father! Shay’s heart cracked at memories of his father, sitting in a chair by the fireplace, an empty pipe lying beside him that he’d pick up on occasion. He’d given up smoking, but couldn’t break the habit of having it nearby. “Dad?”

“Oh, he’s going to love it. He’s been looking at it in the magazine for the last six months.”

“And you’re sure we can afford it?”

Now the voice was his mother’s. She’d been so beautiful, with her long, blond hair and deep brown eyes. When he was a child, Shay could have stared at her for hours, because she was that mesmerizing. Shay’s hands trembled, so he clenched them into fists to try to still them as the memories assaulted his mind.

“We’ll have to cut back on some things, but yeah, I think we can swing it. Besides, we’ve never been able to give Shay anything extravagant. At least this once, we need to splurge on him.”

“I can’t wait to see him open it. He’s going to be so surprised.”’

Then Ms. Donnelly closed her eyes again, and when she opened them, they were her normal color.

“How’d you do that?” She handed him back the watch, and Shay held it to his heart, which he could feel beating wildly. “You sounded like my mom and dad.”

“Their energies are strong on the watch, and that allowed me to access the memories. There is so much love there, and it’s pure and sweet. The love of parents for their child. They were beyond proud of you.”

“They were?” Shay asked desperately. For the longest time he thought they’d be disappointed if they found out he was gay. His grandmother had loved him, but she was a cold, stern woman who couldn’t express her own feelings. Once he came out to her, that became harder to talk about.

“They knew. Your mother told your father, and he said, ‘So what, he’s still my son, and something like that won’t change a damned thing. Plus, I look forward to meeting my future son in law. I’m sure that anyone who loves Shay will be a special man indeed.’”

Tears slid down Shay’s cheeks. “They knew?”

“They did. They were looking forward to you telling them, so they could assure you they didn’t care while they showered you with love.”

They knew. They didn’t hate him.

“No, they could never have hated you. Your taste in music? Yes, that they weren’t fond of, but you? Never.”

Shay scrubbed a hand over his eyes. “Thank you.”

A man appeared beside Shay, holding out a box of tissues. “Would you like something stronger to drink, sir?”

Shay shook his head. “No, thank you. I don’t drink alcohol. I tried once, and I hated the way it made me feel.”

The man patted Shay’s shoulder gently. “That’s a wise choice.” He turned to Ms. Donnelly. “Ma’am, is there anything else I can do before I go help with dinner?”

“No, but thank you, Hal. Please tell Anna to ensure we have enough so that we can show our guest some hospitality. Also, please make her aware of his dietary preferences. His favorite meal is a vegan Alfredo with mushrooms, red peppers, and broccoli florets.”

Shame coursed through Shay. He was no one special and didn’t want to be treated as if he was. “Oh, no. Please, don’t put anyone out on my account.”

She waved a dismissive hand. “Trust me on this. If I don’t tell her what you enjoy, she’ll be impossible to live with. It’s much easier to do things her way, rather than hearing her cursing in my head. Hal, if you please?”

Hal bowed slightly. “Of course, ma’am. Mr. Nowak, it was a true pleasure meeting you. I look forward to rousing discussions about werewolves.” He grinned. “I am intrigued by your take on them.”

And before Shay could utter a word, Hal was gone.

“You’ll have to forgive Hal. It’s rare we have visitors, and he does so enjoy… spirited conversation.”

“I like him. He seems nice. ”

“He is. Everyone who works with us is, in their own way, nice. Some just have a harder time showing it.”

“Can I ask you to tell me about these people you want me to work for?”

Her eyes widened. “With, Shay. You would be working with them. You’d be the majordomo of the household. There will be a staff, but beyond Hal and Anna, they’re transient. You three would be the only ones who live on property with our group. Hal is our butler, Anna the maid. While waiting for you to arrive, she’s taken over the duties of cook, but she doesn’t like it.” Ms. Connelly leaned forward. “She’s the oldest of eight children, and growing up, she’d had to care for them after their mother passed. Now she never wants to have kids, because she enjoys being free to do what she wants. Still, she’s a good cook, and you’ll like her food.”

“Wait. Back up a minute. I have to live here?”

She stood, brushing a hand down the front of her dress as if smoothing it out. Like a wrinkle would dare detract from her beauty. “Of course. This is a live-in position. Your duties wouldn’t be exhaustive, so you would have time to explore the library, use any of the computers, take classes. Whatever interests you, we can help make it happen.”

Shay chuckled. “It sounds like I should be paying you.”

“Hardly. All that is part of your package. There’s also what we believe is a generous salary, but we can most certainly negotiate if you opt to take the job. For now, though, please come with me. We’ll sit and have a nice meal, and then we can continue talking about you working with us.”

Dutifully, Shay rose and followed behind Ms. Connelly. He had a feeling his life was about to veer off into a direction he never expected.

And surprisingly, he was excited about it.