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Shadow Protector
Jenna Ryan
Table of Contents
About the Author
JENNA RYAN started making up stories before she could read or write. Growing up, romance alone always had a strong appeal, but romantic suspense was the perfect fit. She tried out a number of different careers, including modelling, interior design and travel, but writing has always been her one true love. That and her long-time partner, Rod.
Inspired from book to book by her sister Kathy, she lives in a rural setting fifteen minutes from the city of Victoria, British Columbia. It’s taken a lot of years, but she’s finally slowed the frantic pace and adopted a West Coast mindset. Stay active, stay healthy, keep it simple. Enjoy the ride, enjoy the read. All of that works for her, but what she continues to enjoy most is writing stories she loves. She also loves reader feedback. E-mail her at [email protected] or visit Jenna Ryan on Facebook.
To Samoa and Serendipity.
Part of the new Lucky Seven.
Prologue
The dream unfolded piece by resistant piece in Serafina Hudson’s sleeping mind.
She heard disembodied voices overlapping inside a viscous black fog. They murmured words like “death” and “danger” and “serial killer.”
The mood altered. The voices grew louder. Fear slithered in, making the blackness cold.
Where was she? Sera wondered. Why couldn’t she see?
“We look inside too much, Sera. That’s our problem and our burden. It isn’t all about the mind …”
Andrea’s voice joined the mix. But that was impossible …
Because corpses couldn’t speak!
Reality swept in, churning, swirling, spinning the black into blood red. Like the pool of blood her friend and colleague had been lying in on their office floor.
Sera remembered a slow, painful rise from dark to light. There’d been people everywhere, most of them wearing uniforms, all of them unfamiliar to her. Except for Len, the security guard. And Andrea.
Click into clinical mode. She was a doctor. She’d seen blood before.
Just not pooled around a body.
She swore three times. The hands vanished. Lights flashed red and blue. She’d be fine, a stranger promised. As for Andrea …
The voices stopped abruptly. The lights blurred. Her mind stuttered then seemed to wink out.
“Try to remember, Dr. Hudson …”
The mental prod repeated with an eerie echo. A man’s face, hazy at first, solidified. He had creased, careworn features. He looked sixty and tough, yet she sensed an underlying kindness.
She also knew a cop when she saw one.
“I’m sorry your colleague’s dead, Doctor. I wish I could change that, but I can’t. Neither can you.”
Had she thought the man was kind?
“You need to concentrate,” he pressed. “We found
