Lost in Shadow (A Shadow Walkers Ghost Novel) Read Online Free

drool. He was stunning. Inching closer to get a better look, words failed her. Graceful, lethal, dangerous, and fluid, not to mention sexier than any man had a right to be. Riveted to the spot she avidly watched the three men fight.
    It didn’t seem fair, two against one, though the highlander seemed to be holding his own quite well.
    “Come on now, you bloody bugger, might as well be fighting my wee baby brother. Who taught you to fight —your little sister?” The highlander taunted his opponent.
    Grunting, the black-haired, pockmarked English solider ground out, “Screw you Colin, my grandmother fights better than you, blasted piece of shite.”
    Sucking in her bottom lip, Emily’s breath caught. He was a specimen to behold. And that accent was like a creamy, tasty caramel melting in her mouth.
    The one called Colin had to be six foot five with a body chiseled from stone. Chestnut-brown hair with lighter streaks of honey glinted in the pale light of the Vaults. The faux torchlights threw eerie shadows onto the damp stone walls causing the shadows to dance across the walls seemingly alive. Colin’s hair was down to his shoulders with a small braid on either side of his temple. His muscles flexed with each sword thrust as the men continued to fight while constantly insulting each other.
    When Colin scowled at one of his attackers, she couldn’t help but notice he had a strong, fierce face, all planes and angles. It was stark and masculine, marred by a scar that ran from his forehead, through part of his eyebrow, down his cheekbone and looked like it ended at his ear. Most men would look hideous by this attack on flesh; however on this man, the scar added to his appeal, though Emily imagined it would intimidate the hell out of most men. He had to be the most striking man she’d ever laid eyes on.
    Note to self. Move to Scotland. If all men look like him, I’ll die a happy woman.
    Trying not to leer, her attention shifted to his thighs. She sucked in her breath sharply, rubbing her damp palms against her jeans, watching his thigh muscles ripple and flex as he parried and thrust with the sword.
    The sword was an extension of his arm as he fought off both attackers. Mesmerized by the sight, Emily was rooted to the spot.
    As the red-haired English soldier’s sword flashed down and caught Colin on his arm, Emily swore the blade sliced through the sleeve of the white shirt.
    But that wasn’t possible, this was all for fun, wasn’t it? The blood seemed real enough as a red stain appeared, stark crimson against the snowy white linen. Unaware of what she was doing, Emily moved closer. Maybe it was one of those fake blood capsules bought for Halloween—though it looked pretty darn realistic.
    Catching movement from the corner of his eye, the black-haired solider turned towards Emily, a shocked look on his face; time stopped, an instant later he lunged for her.
    Jumping back, falling on her ass, Emily screamed as the sword missed her ear by inches.
    “What the hell? You could have sliced me to ribbons. Real swords, seriously? Here’s a tip—use fake swords. It’s not good to kill the tourists,” she screeched.
    Stalking towards her, the black-haired solider came at her, eyes narrowed, his blade aimed and ready to strike again.
    Scrambling back on hands and feet until she bumped into the far wall, Emily was shaking violently. She froze, paralyzed like when she woke from a nightmare and couldn’t move, so terrified the monsters would get her…all she could do was watch as he came closer. When he raised his sword, she cringed, shutting her eyes, hoping it was a hallucination and would therefore disappear, or if it was indeed real, it would be quick and painless.
    Nothing happened. She heard a muffled thud, kind of like a sack of potatoes thrown against the wall.

    Colin was stunned. The woman could see them; she shouldn’t be able to, they were all invisible to any passersby. It was unheard of for anyone to be able to