Dark Bound (Shadow & Light Book 2) - Ebook

NOTICE OF FORECLOSURE

Damn. I held the letter in trembling fingers. It didn’t matter how many times I’d read the
stupid notice. It always said the same thing; the bank was threatening to take
my grandmother’s house.

My gut clenched, and a sick feeling weaved its way into my being. I sat in my usual spot at my grandmother’s antique wooden table. Suddenly cold, I stared out the kitchen window toward the falling rain, forcing myself to breathe. The
cool autumn wind drifted through the open window, and I clenched the paper so I
wouldn’t hyperventilate.

This can’t be happening.

“Rowyn,
put the notice down before you give yourself a heart attack,” commented Father
Thomas sitting across from me, his beautiful voice, rich in tones and resonant.
“The words won’t change no matter how many times you read them.”

I let
the notice fall on the table and glanced at the priest. He’d been on one of his
regular visits to my grandmother’s when I popped in this morning to check on
her.

Father
Thomas was one of Thornville’s local priests, but also a modern-day Templar
Knight. They called themselves Knights of Heaven, and they were a team
specially appointed by the church to investigate all the “unusual crimes” that
happened in the city and the surrounding areas, specifically New York City.
They waged a secret war against the church’s enemies—demons, half-breeds,
ghosts, and other supernatural baddies that posed a threat to the church.

He
wore his usual dark ensemble of black slacks and a black shirt, the white
square of his clerical collar stark against the deep tones. He was a few inches
taller than me with a droolworthy, athletic physique gained from hours at the
gym, and somewhere in his early thirties. His strong, handsome features
complemented his dark, intelligent eyes, and his olive complexion framed by his
raven hair spoke of his obvious Spanish ancestry.

Tall,
dark, and handsome. Yup. El padre had the full package. I wasn’t even sure I
was allowed to say or even think a
priest was hot. Would God strike me down and send me to the Netherworld for
thinking Father Thomas was a tad pretty?

Father
Thomas is hot.

Father
Thomas is hot.

Father
Thomas is hot—yup, still here. I guess it
is allowed.

“Father
Thomas is right,” said Tyrius, sitting on the table, and I pulled my eyes from
the priest. “We’ve all memorized what it says. Now we need to figure out what
we’re going to do about it.”

The
chic Siamese cat looked regal with his carefully refined features, elegant
black mask, and black-gloved paws. The concern in his voice mirrored my own.
Tyrius loved my grandmother deeply, and this notice had us both on edge.

I
glanced at my grandmother, standing with her back to the oven. The sign above
her kitchen cabinets read LIFE’S TOO SHORT. LICK THE BOWL.

She
wore a calf-length sweater dress with her white hair tied loosely in a long
braid. Her face was paler than usual, and her eyes were a bit sunken, lacking
their usual mischievous glint. The age lines in her face that I once found so
comforting were deeper, making her appear tired and older. The sadness that
clouded her eyes brought my heart into my throat.

“Can
the bank really do that?” asked Tyrius, his deep blue eyes flashing. “Can they
really take her house?”

“Yes.”
Father Thomas shifted in his chair. “The loan agreement was signed with the
client’s consent for the bank to take the necessary action should the client
default on payments.” I heard the frustration in his voice. “And that means
they have every right to repossess the house if the payments stop.”

“When
does the bank take possession?” asked Tyrius, his voice carrying a new concern.

“If
we don’t cough up twenty grand,” I said, my fingers drumming on the table, “in
seven days from today.”

A
sullen silence descended, and I leaned over with my elbows on the table,
letting my head fall in my hands. I’d been so wound up in my own affairs with
the archangel’s death, the deaths of the Unmarked, and my confusing feelings
about Jax—I’d never even noticed the strain happening at my grandmother’s. I
was a fool. A selfish fool.

My
thoughts were rambling now, panic making it hard to breathe. I needed to focus.
I needed to figure this out.

I
needed twenty freaking thousand dollars.

Since
I hadn’t actually vanquished the
Greater demon Degamon, I wasn’t entitled to the full ten thousand the council
had originally offered. But having solved the murders, the council allowed me
to keep the five thousand they’d given me upfront. Jax had explained Degamon’s
involvement to the council, in a lie that we had agreed upon. He told them
Degamon was hunting the Unmarked because their souls were more potent and held
more life force than regular mortals or angel-born.

I
don’t know if the council bought our fabricated story, but the killings
stopped, and so did the council’s attention on me. Good. That’s how I wanted to
be—left alone.

Most
of that five thousand had gone toward three months’ rent, overdue bills, and a
desperately needed new wardrobe. I’d put the remaining five hundred dollars in
a savings account, hoping to save up for a car. I hated having to take the bus
and subway to get around. I was a Hunter. Taking the bus was bad for my image.

Screw
my image. I had five hundred dollars to put toward my grandmother’s debt. Now I
had to figure out a way to get nineteen and a half thousand in less than seven
days. Damn. How the hell was I going to pull that off?

“I
say we rob a bank,” said Tyrius, and to my surprise Father Thomas laughed.
“What?” said the cat. “You think I’m kidding? Do you know how easy it would be
for me to hack into the bank and transfer some cash to Cecile’s account?”

“No
one’s robbing a bank,” I growled, though I was tempted, just for half a second.
But with my grandmother’s strong moral fiber, she would never agree to it.

Jaw
clenched against a New York-sized headache, I glanced at my grandmother, my
heart breaking at the pain I saw. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Twenty grand meant
she hadn’t been paying her mortgage payments for more than a year, plus
interest.

My grandmother
wiped her eyes, and I strained to keep my own waterworks at bay. “You had so
much on your plate already, with you moving back here and then that Greater
demon Degamon on a killing spree and that insufferable council meddling in our
affairs again. I didn’t want you to worry.”

“Too
late. I’m worried.” Although I’d been open and honest about the encounter with
Degamon and why it was after me, the memory still sent my heart pounding.

I
shifted to the edge of my chair, wondering how I could have missed this.
“Grandma, I thought you and Grandpa had some money put away?” I said. “A
pension and some lucky savings?”

“Lucky
savings?” My grandmother gave me a tight smile. “I needed a new roof. Water was
leaking through cracks in the foundation, so that needed to be fixed. Don’t get
me started on the plumbing.” She sighed heavily. “It’s an old house. Old houses
always need repairs, just like this old body. If it’s not a hip replacement,
it’s a window replacement. I’ve stretched that small pension as far as it will
go. It just wasn’t enough.”

A
knot of worry tightened around my middle. I couldn’t let my grandmother lose
her house. I had to do something.

“I’m
so sorry, Cecile,” said Father Thomas as he leaned back in his chair. “I’ll
make inquiries about a possible loan from the church. There has to be something
we can do to help.”

“No.”
My grandmother’s expression was hard and she straightened. I recognized that
stubborn pride. Guess I got it from Granny. “Stop fussing about me.” She set
her coffee mug on the counter. “It’s just a house. It’s got a roof and walls.
That is all. If that goddamned bank wants it so badly, they can take it. I just
don’t care anymore.”

Father
Thomas, startled at the foul word coming from such an innocent-looking old
lady, and I smiled at the hint of the badass angel-born she’d been in her
younger years.

Of
course she cared. I cared. “It’s not just
a house, Grandma. You poured your life into this place. It’s the house you
bought with Grandpa. It’s the house Mom grew up in. It’s the place where I can
transport myself into memories of her and Dad and Grandpa. Memories are all I
have left of her… of all of them.” I gritted my teeth until my jaw hurt. “The
bank’s not getting those memories,” I added and blinked the moisture from my
eyes.

“So,
what’s your master plan, then?” Tyrius cajoled as he shifted atop the table.

“I’ll
get a job,” I announced, surprising myself. “A real, human job.” God, that
sounded lame to say it out loud. The thought of a human job was foreign,
disturbing, and even a little creepy. Could I even pull it off?

Tyrius’s
bark of laughter caught me off guard, and I frowned as he cleared his throat
and said, “You? A real job? That’s as hilarious as rainbows shooting out of my
ass.”

I
stiffened in my seat. “What? You don’t think I can?” Heat rushed to my face,
and part of me wanted to knock him off the table.

“Never
said you couldn’t.” The cat’s smile was brief but sincere. “It’s just… well…
what skills do you have? Apart from killing demons and that one, lame-ass
archangel… what else can you do?”

My
eyes flicked to my grandmother as she stared at the table without blinking, her
expression far away and distant, and I nearly lost it.

“I can get a regular job,” I protested,
nearly shouting. “My people skills are a little rusty. But how hard can it be?
I’m loyal. Dependable. Kind.”

“That’s
great,” commented Tyrius. “Now, all you have to do is learn how to catch a
Frisbee, and you can work as a golden retriever.”

Father
Thomas laughed, and I scowled at the cat. “You’ve got a better idea?”

Tyrius
grinned in a way that made me want to pull out his whiskers. “We could borrow money from the bank. They
wouldn’t even notice. Easy-peasy.”

“No.”

“It
would be so-o-o-o easy, so ridiculously easy.”

“Tyrius,
we are still not robbing a bank,” I said, watching Father Thomas smile at the
cat because he thought he was joking. He wasn’t. I knew if I said yes, Tyrius
would probably transfer small amounts of cash from several different accounts
so as not to draw any attention and then stash it into my grandmother’s. But
she wouldn’t go for that. And neither would I.

The
cat made a face. “Fine. Have it your way, then. But the idea of you behind a
desk is as unnatural to me as a swimming cat. It’s just plain wrong. You
wouldn’t last a day.”

I
rubbed my temples. “I would.” I didn’t
even know where to start. “I will get a regular job if it means I can save
this house. I’ll do it.”

“Do
you have a résumé?” Father Thomas’s mouth quirked, and he touched his
clean-shaven chin with the back of his hand.

If he
wasn’t so pretty, I would have slapped him. “No.” My face warmed. Hunters
didn’t have résumés. We got our jobs by reputation. Not that it mattered now.

“Rowyn,
be reasonable.” My grandmother tilted her head, and a brief look of pain passed
over her features. “Tyrius is right. You’re angel-born, a Hunter. The human
workplace is no place for my granddaughter. You won’t fit in.”

I
don’t fit in anywhere, I thought sourly. No big surprise there.

With
a troubled look, my grandmother exhaled. “I’m sorry we're losing this place,
Rowyn, but there’s nothing else we can do.”

Now I
felt guilty. “Yes, there is.” I pushed my chair back and stood. “I’m not giving
up. I won’t.” I glanced at my
grandmother, and I swear I saw hope flitting behind her eyes. “I’ll figure
something out,” I said, my throat closing. “Just don’t do anything rash until
you hear from me. Okay?”

“Where
are you going?” my grandmother called as I walked out of the kitchen and rushed
down the hallway.

“To
get the money,” I whispered to myself. My head throbbed as I pulled open the
front door and stepped out into the morning rain onto Maple Drive.

Yes,
my life was a bag of disasters, but it needn’t be for my grandma. She was all
the family I had left, if you didn’t count Tyrius. And I sure as hell wasn’t
going to sit back and do nothing.

I would get the money. Even if I had to
hurt a few people to do it.