Page 1 of Hideaway

CHAPTER ONE

THE cool, city lights turned to hazy orbs beneath the shroud of rain. Chicago’s towering skyline appeared almost spectral amid the winter deluge. It was just warm enough for the droplets to resist turning to snow, but still plenty cold to leave a lingering sting of chill in its wake. Caden Ashford wiped a dampened strand of hair from his face as he tried to focus on his task.

Damn rain.

A week prior, a prospective client came to Cade with an endeavor that seemed surprisingly simple. The man needed a single, invaluable item retrieved from a relatively unprotected location. The client was, by his own accord, the rightful owner, not that Cade gave a shit about the rights of ownership. He was a procurer; the elite came to him, under the guise of anonymity, when they desired an item so exotic and singular in nature that insurmountable challenges, such as federal preservation or proprietary rights, impeded direct attainment. Cade was there to bypass the legalities and make their dreams come true. For an exorbitant fee, of course.

His endeavor consisted of three components: a library, a book, and a girl.

The location seemed relatively unchallenging for a man who had gleaned treasures from museums and collections housed in the grandest of fortresses. Endowed with a rather extensive, private assortment of reading materials, Cade had never frequented a library for public use. From his general knowledge, they were menial institutions that allowed items to be taken, abused, and returned within a specific parameter of time free of charge. In his educated opinion, any business that offered a service without the intent to capitalize was fatally flawed. The fundamentals of such an institution left Cade at an advantage; if they were inclined to let everyone in, there would be little forethought given to keeping someone like him out.

The book he was commissioned with obtaining was rare. First fucking edition rare. More than that, it was one of the older examples of printed literature, dating back to the fifteenth century. He knew enough of literary history to know that the disappearance of such a text would cause a great deal of anguish in the academic community, but that wasn’t his damn problem. His client wanted a first edition Chaucer, he would bloody well get a first edition Chaucer.

The girl presented a unique challenge that deviated from his standard operations. According to his client, the book was entrusted to the keep of a single person. She was documented to be far younger than the typical university archivists, a fact which made her position as the chief librarian even more impressive. She’d completed a variety of PhD’s at an accelerated rate and seemed very much the bland, dry, studious sort of character that would be expected of a librarian. Cade had dealt with her type before; in his experience, mercenaries were far more preferable to academics. The latter seemed to be born with a hill to die on, whereas anyone who valued money could always be reasoned with.

The plan had been in place for a week, and it was almost time for the acquisition. Unfortunately, surveillance tended to get complicated when you couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of your face. And without adequate surveillance that night, his operation would have to be delayed. Cade wasn’t partial to delayed gratification in any aspect of his life. So, as far as he was concerned, the rain could kindly fuck off.

Cade took another frustrated swipe at the drenched, dark curls that had fallen into his face. Fierce eyes scoured the darkness in search of their unassuming target. A small group of students bolted from the building out into the rain, obviously eager to escape the watery onslaught and find shelter in their dormitories. Cade moved a few steps back; melding into the shadows was second nature to him. Having escaped the notice of the striving scholars, Cade advanced on the aged brick building that bore the resemblance of a cathedral. Though even if it were a sanctuary, God himself could not impede Cade in his mission.

The large, ornate windows allowed for undisturbed observance. Cade was grateful that the architects clearly had no penchant for privacy. A few older members exited the building and made quick headway for their respective destinations. After they were out of view, Cade circled around to look for any stragglers. The first floor looked clear, and the view of the second floor suggested the same. Which left the basement level and its occupants. Cade allowed himself a small shiver as he made his way through the mud and rain to a tree just out of sight. He leaned against the damp bark, set his focus on the entrance of the building, and waited.

After what seemed like an eternity of being slowly drowned, the moment Cade had been awaiting in rain-soaked anticipation finally arrived. The blurred lights ahead began to extinguish, like candles in the windows of an ancient tower being blown out one by one. The library was the most historic building on campus, and the dark neo-Gothic architecture turned eerie in the faint moonlight. A figure emerged from the large wooden doors at the entrance of the building and turned to secure them behind her.

She was quite underdressed for the aggressive weather, and her pale blue dress began to cling to her skin. On second glance, her lack of a cover was not due to under preparedness for she had a raincoat wrapped carefully around a stack of books that she held close to her chest. Clearly warmth was not on her list of priorities. Cade shook his head in disapproval as he watched her scurry away in soaked shivers. Having spent his whole life around people who valued objects over anything else, he still couldn’t understand the sentiment.

She stopped suddenly and took a moment to turn penetrating eyes to the darkness where Cade hid, searching for some unknown entity that drew her unease. Cade held his breath and shrank back against the tree. Had he slipped, made some sort of sound or movement that called her attention? Cade shook his head at the notion. No, she was merely a woman of moderate vigilance who found herself walking a deserted campus alone at night and looking to the shadows for nightmares to manifest. And with good reason. Nightmares weren’t the only things that lurked in the shadows.

Finding nothing out of the ordinary to satisfy her fears, the woman hurried onward. Cade checked his watch for the time. According to the surveillance work of Jace and Declan, it was the same as the last two nights, almost to the minute. Perfect. She was a creature of habit. He could appreciate that. He would, in fact, appreciate it very much when they came back in search of something very specific. Something only she could provide.

“Until next time, Miss Caine,” Cade whispered in anticipation as the small figure disappeared into the rainy haze like a spirit in the night.

THE evening storm played against the window panes like the swell of a symphony. Kara quite liked the rain; it was a friendly companion to a good read, and it helped to preserve the tranquility of the library. The average student wouldn’t brave the inconvenient whims of Mother Nature to obtain a hard copy text for an assignment undoubtedly due the next day. And the non-average sort were always welcome.

Kara’s breath stilled in reverent rapture as she inspected their most recently donated text, lovingly caressing the time-worn spine, rubbing her thumb across the faded letters and feeling the smoothness of the binding.Jane Eyre—her favorite piece of literature and one in a collection of three, first edition novels by the Brontë sisters recently bequeathed to the archival department of the library. Instinctually, she drew the book close, the pale, blonde waves of her hair rippling over the discolored pages as she breathed in the intoxicating scent of aged paper and ink. It was an irreplicable smell, as though history itself was present in a form tangible to all the senses.

Carefully gathering her new additions, Kara made her way to an obscure door in the far left corner of the first floor. After unlocking the door, she turned on the lights, secured the lock behind her, and descended the steep, narrow staircase. Few people were even aware of the library’s lower level, and even fewer had access to it. The realm beneath the bustle of students, keeping company with the written thoughts of men and women who had passed centuries before, was where Kara truly felt at home.

Kara and a couple senior members had offices on the lower level. There were two rooms with special equipment to study the older and more delicate texts; it was where Kara spent much of her day assisting professors and PhD students with research and examination. There was one room on that level with such limited access that only Kara, as the chief librarian, knew the entry code: the rare books archives. Kara made her way to the door, first edition Brontës still in hand, entered the five digits into the keypad, and opened the door.

She was met with a chill as she entered the repository of rarities. A temperature of sixty degrees was optimal for the preservation of texts, but it was not the most comfortable thermostat setting for human tastes. Kara checked the humidity levels as she made her way to the bookshelves to find a vacant spot for their new acquisitions. After laying its sisters to rest alongside a recently donated collection ofThe Canterbury Tales, Kara couldn’t resist taking a moment to inspect what lay beneath the aged cover of her favorite text. The preservation really was quite exquisite; she would immensely enjoy cataloging any unique features and comparing with other editions the library had in house.

Kara never tired of her work as the head of the archives department. The classic texts always seemed to excite and surprise her in ways that human interactions lacked the capacity. The library had been her sanctuary since she first started at the university as an undergraduate. Some had ridiculed her choice to settle into a uneventful and solitary life amid the shelves of aged texts, but in spite of her twenty eight years, Kara couldn’t imagine anywhere she would be happier. And nothing quite rivaled the welcoming smell of well-worn books.

Kara’s thoughts were suddenly disrupted by the sheer quiet of the room and undisturbed silence above. Assuming thatJane Eyrehad absorbed her attention a little longer than expected, she glanced at the time.

Shit.

It was nearly an hour after closing. Kara carefully placed her text with its comrades and secured the room before heading in haste to her own office. She gathered her coat and a few books from the desk for some late night entertainment and made her way to the stairs. The rhythmic tap of her high heels meeting marble filled the great hall with an authoritative echo that seemed to challenge the empty silence as she moved swiftly to turn out the lights and make her escape into the night.

Kara was met with a damp and chilly breeze as she drew open the heavy wooden doors to the outside world. She had forgotten that the rain she’d been romanticizing from within the dry confines of the library offered a companionship of inconvenience for a long walk back in the dead of night. Without hesitation, Kara removed her coat and wrapped it securely around her books, bracing for the freezing onslaught. She’d take wet clothes over wet books any day.

It was on these days that Kara truly regretted her inability to accessorize with sensible shoes. Navigating the muddy wasteland that separated the campus from the faculty parking lot would be an adventure in pencil thin heels. Her feet had already begun to get wet as she splashed her way down the ruddy brick of the main walkway. Kara’s steps faltered as an eerie sense of being watched washed over her like a chill that had nothing to do with the weather. She searched the shadows warily as she readied her keys in her fist as a weapon against any ill-wishing foe. When nothing dangerous presented itself, Kara soothed her suspicions and hurried on. She’d ask Mike to double check the library on his midnight security rounds as a precaution. She could see the luminous glow of the parking lot and her solitary car in the distance. Kara held her sharpest key at the ready until she was safely inside the confines of her car.

Should any nightly shadows choose to emerge, Kara Caine wasn’t going down without a fight.

CHAPTER TWO

KARA jolted from her habitual daydreaming while menially sorting requests, thrust into reality with the unusual appearance of a large figure walking into the library. A pair of figures actually. It was the one in front who had captured her attention. He was clearly older than the average age of a typical student, but he didn’t quite possess the quiet refinement of a university professor. He was tall, dressed in a brown, tweed suit that fit snugly enough to hint at his muscular build. Round, tortoise glasses framed his striking blue eyes that stood out starkly against his beautiful, deeply-tanned skin. His dark, curly hair was styled short and his perfectly manicured facial hair left her in doubt if she’d ever beheld a specimen who was more the epitome of debonair than the man walking toward her.

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