About Shadow Pawn (Shadow Walker #2)


Betrayed, hunted, afraid.
I was able to escape Henry Nazar’s thugs, but my victory came at a hefty price.
Desperate, I had no choice but to accept help from the last person I should: Soldier Bradley Savini, my ex-boyfriend turned rogue hunter.
Together, we embark on the hunt for my aunt—dodging thugs, soldiers, and other breed with agendas of their own. All while trying not to dredge up memories from the past.
They say the truth will set you free, but the ones I find might as well be the ones to break me forever.

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0BG61QJT4

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/62671522-shadow-pawn


I throttled the bike and accelerated down the empty streets, navigating around garbage and rubble-like obstacles. They were the only indication that the city wasn’t as deserted as people believed it to be. There were families here, people who’d either lost everything and had nowhere else to go, or who’d refused to leave their homes. Scorched car frames, full dumpsters, broken and rotten furniture. Some had been here for decades, others had been placed on purpose, to give the city a forbidden atmosphere to keep others from encroaching.

There was no one about, no lights coming through cracks from boarded-up windows, no more smell of cooking or frying. But then again, with the helmet on and a steady speed, I couldn’t really pick up every detail. Though I’d have rather felt the wind tousle my hair and pummel my face, I needed to talk to Edge and have him start looking for my aunt, so I kept the helmet on. Leaving any mention of Merit Jedrek out, I quickly brought him up to date through the Bluetooth on the helmet and listened as he cursed, typed, and mumbled under his breath.

“You trust Soldier Bradley Savini?” he asked, a note of curiosity underneath his words.

“To see my brother away and safe from the gang, yes.” After that, I didn’t think I could trust him.

“How do you two know each other?”

“We attended the same school.”

Edge grunted, probably aware there was much more to the story, but he didn’t pry. No doubt because now that he had a starting point, he could go digging for information on his own. I didn’t know how I felt about that. I took the right into the next street, the faint smell of burning plastic teasing my nose. I listened to the sound of the clack clack clack of Edge’s fingers on the keyboard for a few seconds, my eyes searching for any hints of smoke. I didn’t want to come into any gang’s territory, much less find myself stuck on a street blocked with burning tires. That would be a snare for trespassers, and I’d heard horror tales about those.

“You have me on your feed?” I asked.

Edge grunted. “Damn clouds keep getting in the way, but you’re looking clear.”

“I smell smoke,” I said, though that was no longer true. Whatever I’d smelled was now behind me. Or the wind was blowing in the opposite direction.

“Let me see.” Edge’s fingers never stopped tapping. “There’s a burning dumpster a few streets to your right, a hooded figure fanning the flames.” More tapping.

I took the first street to my left, then another left, and found myself on a large avenue, decrepit buildings towering on either side as I continued north. For the next few minutes, I listened as Edge muttered to himself, searching for information on The Hellhound Brotherhood and their possible hideouts. Not that I thought I could waltz in there and retrieve my aunt, but success was one-half research. Well-informed people made better choices.

“Well, hello there,” Edge grunted. “Looks like Henry Nazar is making another visit to Bellator Compound, this time accompanied by Lieutenant Gregory Hawthorn.”

I frowned, rounding the husk of a bus, trying to figure Nazar out. “I don’t like that,” I finally said, picking up speed now that the street was clear from large obstacles.

“Agreed,” Edge said. “Okay, take the next street to the right.”

A few seconds later, I did.

“Your left in five, four, three, two, one.” After a few streets, he instructed me to take the next left. By then, instinct told me something was wrong, but my senses caught nothing. I was back on the avenue in what felt like the same spot I’d come out on earlier, all the buildings dark and boarded up, rubble littering the cracked asphalt.

“What is it?”

“I think you’re being followed,” Edge said calmly. “Take the right. Let’s lose the bastard.”

My rearview mirror showed me only the dark, empty street behind me, but I didn’t doubt Edge’s word. I took the next right without slowing, then shut off my light to make it harder for whoever was following me. I caught the telltale brake light when the car turned behind me, closer than I’d guessed, no more than a hundred yards away.

Shit. Twisting the throttle, I revved the bike and sped down the avenue as fast as I dared go with all the hurdles in my path.

“Where should I go?” All my attention was focused ahead, my reflex good enough to keep me from crashing into furniture, car husks, fallen light poles, and the varied rubble littering the road.

“Another right, then a left a block after that.” Edge led me through a meandering loop, one that, had he not been tracking and aiding my movement, would have gotten me lost or trapped in a gang’s nest more than once.

Edge suddenly cursed. “There’s another one closing on your left.” Furious tapping followed more filthy curses. “Damn these clouds. I think there’s a third sedan, but it’s not clear enough for me to be sure.”

Fear skittered like ice up and down my spine. “The Hellhound Brotherhood?” I asked, unsure which was worse: The Brotherhood or another gang.


Twenty minutes later found me on another avenue—one I didn’t recognize—and with four sedans and two bikes on my tail. My hands were clammy, my palms sweating inside the gloves.

“Hang in there, backup is on the way,” Edge said.

My heart pounded in my throat. No matter how many streets I took, how fast I went, those bastards kept coming. I had my senses spread as far as possible, afraid to hit something and make the job to those tailing me easier, but the heightened concentration was beginning to wane. Not that it was giving me any advantage, the streets were treacherous, filled with holes the size of small craters. By then, I was completely lost. My only concern was losing my tails too.

“Another one coming from your right. Gun it,” Edge instructed, and I roared down the street. Despite the heads up and the speed, the sedan appeared out of nowhere and almost rammed my back tire. I jerked to the left instinctively and almost lost control before I bumped onto what was once a sidewalk. Tree roots and unidentifiable objects had me quickly jumping back onto the street, my pursuers getting closer and closer.

“Oh, hell no,” Edge snarled. “They’re herding you to a dead end. The bridge up ahead is broken, Mel, a huge chunk missing. Take a right. There’s an SUV dead center coming from there, but if you take the sidewalk, you can make past it. Darlene will be there soon.”

I lowered my upper body on the bike, ready to follow his instruction when suddenly I had an idea. A bad one, but if I managed it, I could lose my pursuers.

“How big is the missing chunk?”

“What? The bridge? Big enough that you can’t make the jump. The thing isn’t even stable enough, the second half sagging down to the river.”

“I can swim,” I said darkly.

“No, no. The current is too fast and the water too muddy. Take the right before you miss your window.”

“How big?” I insisted.

“Damn you,” Edge cursed, but his fingers tapped. “At least six and a half feet. Don’t do this, Darlene is on her way.”

I risked a glance at the multiple vehicles behind me and swallowed. I needed to lose them and driving in circles wasn’t helping. I didn’t say what was on my mind—Darlene would never reach me in time, unless she was close by already. I gunned it, pushing the bike to its limit. The roar of the engine was louder than Edge’s curses, louder than the blood rushing in my ears, louder than the wind whistling by. The bridge came into view, looking like something had rammed it from below, pushing it up like the mouth of an angry volcano. Then I got it. It was a lift bridge, stuck on the open tilt, with one side higher than the other.

A ping sounded to my right, and sparks flew. “They’re shooting,” I murmured. I wasn’t sure why that surprised me. More bullets came, followed by more sparks, and I recognized the tactic. By shooting my right, they were trying to force me to take my left. It made me more determined not to. Clenching my teeth, I made sure I had the bridge directly on a straight path. The cars behind me were close enough that their headlights pinned me like the main attraction at a circus, and I wished I had enough coordination and balance to shoot them out. I didn’t want them to see if I made it to the other side. When, not if. When I made it to the other side, I corrected myself.

I knew the moment the road beneath me changed to the bridge, both from the hollow reverberations under the bike, and by the way the whole structure wobbled with the new weight. I didn’t let myself doubt my action as I bounced up the ramp. I was going full speed, Edge was screaming at me that I better not damage his bike, the vehicles behind me were pressing their horns in one synchronized blare. The bridge was worse than the city streets behind me, the decaying ground giving way to darkness below in patches. If I hit one deep enough, my journey to the other side would be over before it began. And if I slowed, I wouldn’t even make the jump. Screeching tires came from behind, and I realized two things: Edge had gone quiet, and my pursuers weren’t risking the bridge. I didn’t have time to decide if that was a good or a bad thing.

Even though I’d been watching for the break in the bridge, I only caught the dark, empty gap beneath me about two seconds after I was airborne. The aerial sensation had none of the thrills people talked about and all the terror of certain death approaching. The scream of terror that left my mouth was involuntarily, almost compulsory. I hit the other side with a jarring impact, and almost lost control of the handle. Adrenaline pumped through my system with each heartbeat, and I knew if this side hadn’t been lower than the other, I’d be drowning in the rapids right now. But it was, and I’d made it.
The thought had barely crossed my mind when the already damaged bridge fell from under the bike with a loud metal groan. For a horrifying second, I hung in the air. Then the bridge halted its descent, and my teeth clacked with another impact. There was water behind me, a forty-five degree angle incline ahead. I throttled the bike, the poor engine making a weird noise, but it took me over the incline and onto a safer, though also decaying, part of the bridge. In less than a minute, I was hitting the other side—literally. There was a big-ass Humvee parked where the bridge ended and the road began. Metal screeched with the impact, jostling me like a bucking bull high on cocaine and steroids and I went down.

Available as eBook and paperback.

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0BG61QJT4

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/62671522-shadow-pawn

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