To Love a Shadow, To Be the Sun novel Chapter 229

Felton’s fish pond was enormous, ringed by a few thatched gazebos that offered what little shade they could under the blazing sun. A handful of fishermen lounged in the shelters, scattered and silent, rods propped and eyes half-closed.

Elara glanced around, then strode straight toward a small wooden shack near the shore, where shadows shifted behind the screen door.

“Felton, I’ll buy two carp,” she called as she stepped inside.

A man in his fifties, dressed in a faded gray cotton shirt, paused in the middle of gutting a fish and grinned at her. “How big are you after?”

She considered. “Seven or eight pounds each, if you have them.”

Felton’s eyebrows shot up. “How many people are you feeding?”

“Just two.”

He chuckled. “One’s more than enough.”

She shook her head, smiling. “Sell me both. I love fish. One isn’t going to cut it.”

Felton laughed, wheezing a little as he reached into a net by the water’s edge and pulled out two fat, glistening carp, each easily tipping the scales at seven pounds.

Elara reached for her wallet, but before she could pay, a harpoon whistled past her shoulder, slamming into the fish Felton was holding up.

She jerked back in shock, spinning around. Twenty yards away, in the shadow of one gazebo, a man with tiger-stripe tattoos across his forehead dropped his speargun and charged in her direction.

Elara’s body tensed with alarm. She turned and bolted.

Behind her, the man’s footsteps pounded closer, his voice sharp as he barked into a phone. “Over here! She’s by the water!”

His warning had barely finished echoing when a sudden chill swept over the back of her neck.

She ducked instinctively, rolling to the side just as a knife sliced through the air where her head had been, catching only a few strands of her hair.

She tumbled into a patch of reeds, heart pounding.

“Every time Zack lets you slip away, but not today,” the tattooed man snarled, vaulting into the tall grass after her. Before Elara could scramble to her feet, he lunged again, blade flashing.

Out of time, she squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the blow.

Instead, a dull thud rang out. The attacker crashed heavily onto the stone path beside the field.

She sucked in a sharp breath. Zane twisted, driving his elbow into the attacker’s throat and yanking Elara away again.

Somewhere nearby, a phone began to ring.

Zane kept Elara tucked close as he sprinted through the reeds. When he finally slowed and glanced back, the only sound was his own breathing; their pursuers had vanished.

The smoke slowly thinned, revealing nothing but a few patches of scorched grass and the chaos left behind—like the whole fight had been nothing more than a fevered hallucination under the merciless sun.

Zane scanned the area, wary, before finally saying, “They’re gone.”

Elara stood frozen. He squeezed her arm. “Did the fall scramble your brains?”

She shook her head, jaw clenched. “Another one of those damn batteries,” she spat. “And those scars on his hand? I gave him those myself. I’d recognize that bastard anywhere.”

Zane’s eyes narrowed, an eyebrow quirking upward.

“Boss!” Quincy Shelton burst through the reeds, taking one look at the muddied state of Zane’s jacket and Elara’s wild-eyed expression. He didn’t need to ask what had happened.