Bound by Dreams (NYT Bestselling Author) - Softcover
American travel expert Kiera Morissey is adept at getting in and out of tight spots. But when a deathbed promise brings Kiera back to Draycott Abbey, she meets rugged Scotsman Calan MacKay, and her life is changed forever. For fifteen years, changed by turns to a swift creature of night, Calan has used his deadly strength and speed to protect. But he wakes with bruises on his body and blood on his hands. And Kiera may be the key to getting his life back.
Calan stirs emotions in Kiera that she's never felt before. Getting in and out may be her skill, yet she finds it impossible to leave the abbey until she's unraveled its mysteries, and Calan's dark secret. But will the shadows from the past and an ancient vow of evil threaten the future they may have together?
"synopsis" may belong to another edition of this title.
About the Author:
They came at her without warning. One minute Kiera Morissey had been cursing Draycott Abbey and its arrogant owner, determined to make her visit short so she could be gone forever.
Now she was struggling for her life against violent men in black masks. Her mother's deathbed request had led her straight into a nightmare.
A rag blocked her mouth, making her gag. Rough hands gripped her wrists, twisting until she moaned. She was supposed to be fighting memories, not violent assailants. Who were these people? What did they want with her?
Security guards? Kiera would have expected the Draycott family to post a team of bad-tempered Neanderthals to guard their precious privacy. But would they condone this kind of violence?
The wind snapped through the trees. Birds exploded over her head as she fought harder. Plastic bonds locked her wrists sharply. She couldn't see, striking out at her attackers by feel alone. She knew there were two of them, and so far they had said only a few words, all of them in a language that sounded Slavic.
This was a private unit of hired foreign thugs, meant to protect the aristocratic owner of the abbey and his family? Hard to believe, even for the arrogant Draycotts.
She didn't frighten easily, though she hadn't been prepared for an attack on a quiet country road in the English countryside.
Now she was focused, ready to fight back. Her father had taught her self-defense as soon as she was big enough to hold a Muy Thai stick and play at kickboxing moves. Yet in her emotion at her first glimpse of Draycott Abbey, she had violated the crucial rule: Always stay prepared.
Now her attackers were going to get a little surprise.
Kiera made the move exactly as her father had taught her. She went completely limp, toppling sideways. Before her beefy captor could adjust to her sudden falling weight in his arms, she snapped forward and kicked him solidly in the groin.
His wheeze of stunned shock told her he had expected fear and blind compliance. No way, dog breath.
The second his hands loosened, she dropped to her knees, rolled and then shot toward the woods.
She was in good shape. She also had a five-yard lead on the second attacker. She grabbed the top of the abbey's stone fence, pulled herself up and threw one leg over.
But her pursuer lunged and managed to grab her ankle just before it cleared the fence. He jerked her backward, her face scraping against the stones. Blood gushed over her lip, but when he tried to shove her down beneath him, she clawed at his eyes, sending him reeling.
Unfortunately Attacker Two had sewer breath. He was also the size of a Mack truck. With a jerk of his callused hands, he drove her flat onto the ground. Then he stood over her, one heel pressed at her throat.
Bad sign, Kiera thought.
Any second she would have a crushed windpipe.
"What do you want?" She hated that her voice was high and spiky. The heel pressed to her throat started to grind down. "Okay, are you some kind of private police? Security guards from Draycott Abbey?" She spoke wildly, saying anything that came to mind.
His foot froze. A good sign.
"I mean, if you're hired by Viscount Draycott, I can explain."
His breath caught.
Kiera still couldn't see his face in the darkness, but she heard his clothes rustle and then the click of a cell phone opening. He muttered something in a language that definitely sounded Slavic, then waited for an answer. Hoping for a distraction, she went perfectly still on the ground, but the pressure on her throat never loosened, nor did his gaze leave her face. Clearly this gorilla had military or professional security training, and now his focus was almost palpable.
Simple tricks weren't going to work with this one.
In the distance she heard the low growl of a motor. Picking up speed. Coming closer.
Straight in her direction.
Attacker One grunted, slowly recovering, one hand to his eyes. Kiera's mind raced through escape scenarios. Her father had taught her dozens. No way was she going to be a statistic on the evening news.
When the gorilla closed his cell phone, Kiera focused. He reached down, jerking her to her feet.
She twisted and dug two fingers into his neck, precisely at the vulnerable notch of his collarbone. Muscle flexed and then cartilage tore nicely. While he was still hunched over in shock, she sank her teeth into his palm, deep enough to feel skin part. Bone ground beneath her teeth.
She spit out blood but the man's grip held firm. His growl of fury didn't quite cover the sound of the car motor nearby.
Panic squeezed hard. Damn, damn, damn. How many more men were inside the car?
Then Kiera heard leaves rustle.
Something was moving toward her from the far side of the fence. There was no mistaking the snap of twigs, the harsh breathing, the sounds made by a very large animal.
There was something strange about that rough breathing. Or maybe it was hypoxia starting to kick in. She aimed two more satisfying collarbone jabs as her attacker's fingers locked around her throat.
Dizziness tore at her vision.
Oxygen almost gone.
A dark shape exploded over the stone fence. Kiera heard the slap of a body and then the sound of bushes shaking. She could see almost nothing as she fought her furious captor. Then abruptly she was free, her attacker sinking to one knee.
Car lights cut across the road, closing in fast as Kiera shot across the pavement to the far slope, where the ground fell away abruptly at the edge of a creek. Diving over the bank, she tucked sharply and landed in a sprawl at the bottom.
The sounds were muffled here. Up on the bank she heard the squeal of brakes and harsh voices, followed by a scream of pure terror.
Something growled. The sound made Kiera's hair stand on end. She had seen predators in zoos throughout Europe, but she had never heard that kind of growl, a sound that held cunning and intelligence.
Whatever the animal was, she wasn't staying around for introductions. She stumbled along the muddy edge of the stream, keeping her body low so she would be invisible to any attacker looking down from the road. Following the stream would bring her to a second road. Her rental car was parked only a few hundred yards away from that point.
Safe.
Her hands shook. She forced herself to stay calm. She was alive, no one's captive.
Then a bullet hit the bushes only inches away from her hand. Kiera plunged straight into the mud and stayed down, breathing hard.
Reining in her urge to flee blindly.
But that was what they'd expect. Rule Two: Never do the expected.
Behind her the wind carried a man's guttural shout of pain and a rapid burst of gunfire from the road.
She heard another growl, this one the short, angry sound of an animal that was cornered. Wounded maybe. Something about the pain held Kiera still. Her hands opened and closed jerkily. Climbing the slope, she crept through the woods far above the point where she had been attacked. In a beam of car lights she saw motion and dim, grappling figures. Another burst of gunfire drilled the creek she had just left. Back on the road a man shouted angry orders, again in a language that sounded Slavic.
Kiera's foot struck a boulder. When she looked down, she saw she had stumbled over a man's body. He was alive, judging by his labored breathing, and a revolver lay on the ground inches from his twitching hand. She didn't think twice, scooping up the weapon. Instead of turning toward her car, she crept back toward the road.
Going back? This had to be insanity, even with a weapon.
Then the animal, probably some kind of mastiff or mixed-breed husky, gave another sharp howl of pain.
Kiera's fists clenched. They were killing the dog.
The moon broke from behind racing clouds, giving her a glimpse of the scene on the road. One man was climbing into a waiting car. A second man swayed sharply, clutching his arm. He turned and gave harsh orders, gesturing to the far side of the road, where Kiera had crossed minutes before. He was sending his men after her, she realized.
Two figures vanished down the slope of the creek, and she saw the remaining man back up, suddenly frozen by something near the stone fence. Her breath caught.
A shadow separated from the tall grass. It was the biggest dog she had ever seen, long and sleek.
Every motion carried the stamp of effortless, fierce power.
The man with the gun cursed, but the animal was faster, leaping through the darkness. Kiera heard four shots in quick succession.
She flinched, certain that no animal could survive such an attack at close range. With the pistol weighing against her palm, she reacted by instinct, flicking off the safety, dropping behind the foliage of a small tree and aiming carefully.
Her first bullet drove up gravel near the car's back tire. Her second shot hit the back windshield, cracking the glass. She didn't stay to see more. One small diversion was all she could afford. As Kiera dodged back into the trees, bullets tore off a branch near her hand. Footsteps pounded over the road.
He was coming after her.
She ran through the woods, caught in darkness as the moon vanished behind the clouds. With the attacker bearing down, she caught the lowest branch of a tree and swung one leg up. She clawed her way up another ten feet, then curled into a ball, absolutely still.
Grass rustled, and then a man ran directly beneath her. His footsteps hammered on into the trees.
Long seconds passed. The car idling back on the road gave two sharp bursts on the horn. Leaves scratched Kiera's face and she felt a bug fall down the back of her jacket, but she kept resolutely still.
Twigs snapped. The man with the gun returned slowly, swinging his outstretched arm directly beneath her.
Through the leaves, Kiera saw the car lights flash to high, then flicker twice.
Some kind of a message, that was clear. She prayed it would call him back. But the man didn't move, studying the darkness intently.
Sweat trickled between her shoulders. Another bug hit her cheek. The car horn sounded sharply.
The man strode off. Seconds later the car roared away.
Silence fell. The wind brushed her face.
But Kiera didn't move. Her legs were locked, her muscles taut with the aftereffects of fear. The temperature had fallen and she began to shiver. Running through damp fields and crossing streams hadn't been in her game plan when she'd dressed that evening.
But she was alive. There was a sharp beauty to the night, to the chiaroscuro pattern of the leaves caught against the faint moonlight. Closing her eyes, she breathed a sigh of thanks.
Still shaking, she swung her legs over the lowest branch. With trembling hands she hung for a moment and then dropped to the ground, wincing at a sudden pain in her foot. There was no sign of pursuit. The night was silent as she crossed the road warily.
Dark tracks lined the mud. A man's jacket lay nearby, dropped and forgotten. There was no sign of the big dog that the men had been tormenting, probably a guard dog from one of the surrounding estates. Yet there had been something strange about the animal's size and its powerful movements. Even now the memory left her with an unsettling sense of savage strength held in precarious control.
And as she stood in the clearing at the edge of the road, looking at the distant line of the abbey's roof, Kiera had the strangest sense that someone was watching her.
But nothing moved; nothing barked or stirred in the foliage.
"Who's there?" she whispered.
A bird cried in the distance. Goose bumps rose along her arms. Time to leave, she told herself firmly. If someone found her here, with the marks of the attack all around her, she would have no easy way to explain. And there was always a possibility that the thugs might come back.
Fortunately, she had planned for a quick escape. Her backpack was hidden in the grass near her rental car, and her keys were under a rock nearby. Yet still she didn't move. Something called her gaze through the trees, toward the moon touching the distant hills.
Christina Skye loves a good adventure. Living in Arizona gives her plenty of room to practice target shooting and to trek off-road on her motorcycle, researching the details for stories rich with “snappy dialogue” and an unerring ability to keep “the narrative energy high and the pacing swift” (Publishers Weekly). With over two million books in print, her novels appear regularly on national bestseller lists. Visit her online at www.christinaskye.com.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.:
They came at her without warning. One minute Kiera Morissey had been cursing Draycott Abbey and its arrogant owner, determined to make her visit short so she could be gone forever.
Now she was struggling for her life against violent men in black masks. Her mother's deathbed request had led her straight into a nightmare.
A rag blocked her mouth, making her gag. Rough hands gripped her wrists, twisting until she moaned. She was supposed to be fighting memories, not violent assailants. Who were these people? What did they want with her?
Security guards? Kiera would have expected the Draycott family to post a team of bad-tempered Neanderthals to guard their precious privacy. But would they condone this kind of violence?
The wind snapped through the trees. Birds exploded over her head as she fought harder. Plastic bonds locked her wrists sharply. She couldn't see, striking out at her attackers by feel alone. She knew there were two of them, and so far they had said only a few words, all of them in a language that sounded Slavic.
This was a private unit of hired foreign thugs, meant to protect the aristocratic owner of the abbey and his family? Hard to believe, even for the arrogant Draycotts.
She didn't frighten easily, though she hadn't been prepared for an attack on a quiet country road in the English countryside.
Now she was focused, ready to fight back. Her father had taught her self-defense as soon as she was big enough to hold a Muy Thai stick and play at kickboxing moves. Yet in her emotion at her first glimpse of Draycott Abbey, she had violated the crucial rule: Always stay prepared.
Now her attackers were going to get a little surprise.
Kiera made the move exactly as her father had taught her. She went completely limp, toppling sideways. Before her beefy captor could adjust to her sudden falling weight in his arms, she snapped forward and kicked him solidly in the groin.
His wheeze of stunned shock told her he had expected fear and blind compliance. No way, dog breath.
The second his hands loosened, she dropped to her knees, rolled and then shot toward the woods.
She was in good shape. She also had a five-yard lead on the second attacker. She grabbed the top of the abbey's stone fence, pulled herself up and threw one leg over.
But her pursuer lunged and managed to grab her ankle just before it cleared the fence. He jerked her backward, her face scraping against the stones. Blood gushed over her lip, but when he tried to shove her down beneath him, she clawed at his eyes, sending him reeling.
Unfortunately Attacker Two had sewer breath. He was also the size of a Mack truck. With a jerk of his callused hands, he drove her flat onto the ground. Then he stood over her, one heel pressed at her throat.
Bad sign, Kiera thought.
Any second she would have a crushed windpipe.
"What do you want?" She hated that her voice was high and spiky. The heel pressed to her throat started to grind down. "Okay, are you some kind of private police? Security guards from Draycott Abbey?" She spoke wildly, saying anything that came to mind.
His foot froze. A good sign.
"I mean, if you're hired by Viscount Draycott, I can explain."
His breath caught.
Kiera still couldn't see his face in the darkness, but she heard his clothes rustle and then the click of a cell phone opening. He muttered something in a language that definitely sounded Slavic, then waited for an answer. Hoping for a distraction, she went perfectly still on the ground, but the pressure on her throat never loosened, nor did his gaze leave her face. Clearly this gorilla had military or professional security training, and now his focus was almost palpable.
Simple tricks weren't going to work with this one.
In the distance she heard the low growl of a motor. Picking up speed. Coming closer.
Straight in her direction.
Attacker One grunted, slowly recovering, one hand to his eyes. Kiera's mind raced through escape scenarios. Her father had taught her dozens. No way was she going to be a statistic on the evening news.
When the gorilla closed his cell phone, Kiera focused. He reached down, jerking her to her feet.
She twisted and dug two fingers into his neck, precisely at the vulnerable notch of his collarbone. Muscle flexed and then cartilage tore nicely. While he was still hunched over in shock, she sank her teeth into his palm, deep enough to feel skin part. Bone ground beneath her teeth.
She spit out blood but the man's grip held firm. His growl of fury didn't quite cover the sound of the car motor nearby.
Panic squeezed hard. Damn, damn, damn. How many more men were inside the car?
Then Kiera heard leaves rustle.
Something was moving toward her from the far side of the fence. There was no mistaking the snap of twigs, the harsh breathing, the sounds made by a very large animal.
There was something strange about that rough breathing. Or maybe it was hypoxia starting to kick in. She aimed two more satisfying collarbone jabs as her attacker's fingers locked around her throat.
Dizziness tore at her vision.
Oxygen almost gone.
A dark shape exploded over the stone fence. Kiera heard the slap of a body and then the sound of bushes shaking. She could see almost nothing as she fought her furious captor. Then abruptly she was free, her attacker sinking to one knee.
Car lights cut across the road, closing in fast as Kiera shot across the pavement to the far slope, where the ground fell away abruptly at the edge of a creek. Diving over the bank, she tucked sharply and landed in a sprawl at the bottom.
The sounds were muffled here. Up on the bank she heard the squeal of brakes and harsh voices, followed by a scream of pure terror.
Something growled. The sound made Kiera's hair stand on end. She had seen predators in zoos throughout Europe, but she had never heard that kind of growl, a sound that held cunning and intelligence.
Whatever the animal was, she wasn't staying around for introductions. She stumbled along the muddy edge of the stream, keeping her body low so she would be invisible to any attacker looking down from the road. Following the stream would bring her to a second road. Her rental car was parked only a few hundred yards away from that point.
Safe.
Her hands shook. She forced herself to stay calm. She was alive, no one's captive.
Then a bullet hit the bushes only inches away from her hand. Kiera plunged straight into the mud and stayed down, breathing hard.
Reining in her urge to flee blindly.
But that was what they'd expect. Rule Two: Never do the expected.
Behind her the wind carried a man's guttural shout of pain and a rapid burst of gunfire from the road.
She heard another growl, this one the short, angry sound of an animal that was cornered. Wounded maybe. Something about the pain held Kiera still. Her hands opened and closed jerkily. Climbing the slope, she crept through the woods far above the point where she had been attacked. In a beam of car lights she saw motion and dim, grappling figures. Another burst of gunfire drilled the creek she had just left. Back on the road a man shouted angry orders, again in a language that sounded Slavic.
Kiera's foot struck a boulder. When she looked down, she saw she had stumbled over a man's body. He was alive, judging by his labored breathing, and a revolver lay on the ground inches from his twitching hand. She didn't think twice, scooping up the weapon. Instead of turning toward her car, she crept back toward the road.
Going back? This had to be insanity, even with a weapon.
Then the animal, probably some kind of mastiff or mixed-breed husky, gave another sharp howl of pain.
Kiera's fists clenched. They were killing the dog.
The moon broke from behind racing clouds, giving her a glimpse of the scene on the road. One man was climbing into a waiting car. A second man swayed sharply, clutching his arm. He turned and gave harsh orders, gesturing to the far side of the road, where Kiera had crossed minutes before. He was sending his men after her, she realized.
Two figures vanished down the slope of the creek, and she saw the remaining man back up, suddenly frozen by something near the stone fence. Her breath caught.
A shadow separated from the tall grass. It was the biggest dog she had ever seen, long and sleek.
Every motion carried the stamp of effortless, fierce power.
The man with the gun cursed, but the animal was faster, leaping through the darkness. Kiera heard four shots in quick succession.
She flinched, certain that no animal could survive such an attack at close range. With the pistol weighing against her palm, she reacted by instinct, flicking off the safety, dropping behind the foliage of a small tree and aiming carefully.
Her first bullet drove up gravel near the car's back tire. Her second shot hit the back windshield, cracking the glass. She didn't stay to see more. One small diversion was all she could afford. As Kiera dodged back into the trees, bullets tore off a branch near her hand. Footsteps pounded over the road.
He was coming after her.
She ran through the woods, caught in darkness as the moon vanished behind the clouds. With the attacker bearing down, she caught the lowest branch of a tree and swung one leg up. She clawed her way up another ten feet, then curled into a ball, absolutely still.
Grass rustled, and then a man ran directly beneath her. His footsteps hammered on into the trees.
Long seconds passed. The car idling back on the road gave two sharp bursts on the horn. Leaves scratched Kiera's face and she felt a bug fall down the back of her jacket, but she kept resolutely still.
Twigs snapped. The man with the gun returned slowly, swinging his outstretched arm directly beneath her.
Through the leaves, Kiera saw the car lights flash to high, then flicker twice.
Some kind of a message, that was clear. She prayed it would call him back. But the man didn't move, studying the darkness intently.
Sweat trickled between her shoulders. Another bug hit her cheek. The car horn sounded sharply.
The man strode off. Seconds later the car roared away.
Silence fell. The wind brushed her face.
But Kiera didn't move. Her legs were locked, her muscles taut with the aftereffects of fear. The temperature had fallen and she began to shiver. Running through damp fields and crossing streams hadn't been in her game plan when she'd dressed that evening.
But she was alive. There was a sharp beauty to the night, to the chiaroscuro pattern of the leaves caught against the faint moonlight. Closing her eyes, she breathed a sigh of thanks.
Still shaking, she swung her legs over the lowest branch. With trembling hands she hung for a moment and then dropped to the ground, wincing at a sudden pain in her foot. There was no sign of pursuit. The night was silent as she crossed the road warily.
Dark tracks lined the mud. A man's jacket lay nearby, dropped and forgotten. There was no sign of the big dog that the men had been tormenting, probably a guard dog from one of the surrounding estates. Yet there had been something strange about the animal's size and its powerful movements. Even now the memory left her with an unsettling sense of savage strength held in precarious control.
And as she stood in the clearing at the edge of the road, looking at the distant line of the abbey's roof, Kiera had the strangest sense that someone was watching her.
But nothing moved; nothing barked or stirred in the foliage.
"Who's there?" she whispered.
A bird cried in the distance. Goose bumps rose along her arms. Time to leave, she told herself firmly. If someone found her here, with the marks of the attack all around her, she would have no easy way to explain. And there was always a possibility that the thugs might come back.
Fortunately, she had planned for a quick escape. Her backpack was hidden in the grass near her rental car, and her keys were under a rock nearby. Yet still she didn't move. Something called her gaze through the trees, toward the moon touching the distant hills.
"About this title" may belong to another edition of this title.
- PublisherHQN
- Publication date2009
- ISBN 10 0373774060
- ISBN 13 9780373774067
- BindingMass Market Paperback
- Number of pages384
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