Ghosted (Team Zero #3) by Rina Kent

My fingers shake, and I clasp them together in my lap. Dammit. I’m strong. No small incident such as that should faze me.

And yet, tears form in my eyes. If that person hadn’t come, I would be in a worse situation. No matter how tough I am, I can’t take three men. Two of them were a lot bigger than me.

I wipe my eyes with jerky hands. I hate myself for letting someone else save me.

It eats at every part of me to be that exposed to anyone. Who was it anyway?

My gaze flickers around the room. It’s basic or more prison-like, actually. Grey walls surround me, casting a gloomy hue, even with the light coming from the tall French window. I assume it has to do with the thick curtain flapping inside. The large bed I’m sitting on is the only notable furniture – but it also has grey sheets. Another grey item – a metal wardrobe rests on the side.

Whoever this person is, they must be too gloomy for words.

I take note of myself. Instead of the half-torn dress, I’m in shorts and a T-shirt.

My body stiffens.

Who the hell changed my clothes?

“Cupcake?”

I flinch backwards, my back hitting the bedpost.

A shadow passes behind the window before a man jumps inside. He flings the curtains open, and I wince at the blinding light. It’s Shadow. This means I’m back at Le Salon.

Is he the one who saved me?

Shadow is agile, tall, and bulkier than Kyle. He’s handsome, if we’re talking about the whole dark-blond-bedroom-hair-and-strong-jawline-bad-boy handsome. But for some reason, he never triggered my anxiety around attractive men. Probably because of the striking contradiction in the grey of his eyes. He always appears mischievous, but the eerie danger in his gaze pushes me away. I’m more wary than suspicious of him.

He’s wearing dark jeans and a white T-shirt. His arms are fully inked with sleeve tattoos. I squint. It’s the first time I’ve gotten a close look at his ink. Colourful Chinese tigers fall over his biceps and down across his forearms. They’re snarling at each other. The details are so intricate, it’s as if they’re picking a fight with me.

“Cupcake?” Shadow repeats, holding a cupcake in his hand.

I startle, realising I’ve been gawking. Shadow is watching me with undivided attention, too.

“No, thanks.” I’m in no mood to eat. “Where is this place?”

Shadow drags a chair, but instead of sitting like normal humans, he crouches above it and takes a bite of his cupcake. “The building in Le Salon’s back-garden.”

“You mean the rubbish, haunted-looking storehouse?”

“Hey there, doll.” He scowls. “Don’t be fucking rude.”

I scrunch my nose.

“Pardon my Spanish,” he says.

“You mean pardon my French?”

“Same thing, doll. Both are foreign languages.” He continues chewing on his cupcake, eyes shining with a strange dark grey gleam. I’ve often seen Shadow around Julian, but I’ve never interacted with him. I’ve been avoiding Julian, and as a result, Shadow, too.

“Are you the one who saved me?” My skin prickles. Even though my head is a pounding mess, my voice raises. “Did you and Mist send me out there to kill me and now, you’re playing saviours?”

“It was...” He hums while nibbling on his cupcake, seeming not the least bit fazed by my outburst. “A misunderstanding? We thought you were on Johnny’s team.”

“What?” I almost shout.

“You know, Johnny, the one whose bollocks you kicked?” He grins a charming, boyish smile. “Nice, by the way.”

“You think I was friends with someone who was harassing me?” I grit out. “What the hell is wrong with you people?”

“Trust issues.” His grin widens as he jumps to his feet. “We don’t completely trust you.” His eyes darken and all humour disappears. He reaches out a hand, and I instinctively push backwards. My shoulder blades hit the bedpost, and the sound echoes around us. There’s some sort of a black energy thing radiating off him that causes my damn skin to crawl with unexplainable fear.

Shadow’s finger connects with my forehead as if he’s marking me for Satan. “There’s something about you. Like I know you.”

“You don’t.” I swat his finger away.

“That’s why it’s strange.” He goes back to grinning like a class one playboy as if he didn’t just summon the devil. “You’re under our protection now.”

What the hell is being under their protection supposed to mean? My head goes dizzy and the burning in my lip makes it even worse.

“I don’t want to be under anyone’s protection.” I try to stand.

Shadow places a hand on my shoulder and pushes me down. When I attempt to punch him, he forces me down. He’s still smiling, though.

“I’m going back to my room,” I say.

“No, you’re not.” The voice from the entrance causes me to jump.

God. Once again, I didn’t even sense him come in, let alone approach me this close.

Julian stands beside Shadow. He’s in that sloppy suit that he somehow manages to make appear rugged and drool-worthy. His black jacket is buttoned, outlining his broad shoulders and the strong curve of his waist. The cuff of his shirt is rolled around the sleeve of the jacket.