![\"\"](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.shilohwalker.com\/website\/wp-content\/uploads\/2012\/08\/LockedInSilence72LG-200x300.jpg?resize=200%2C300\" "\\"Locked")
<\/a><\/p>\nDying is hard enough. Coming back to life is brutal. Grimm’s Circle, Book 5 Vanya has been hunting and killing demons ever since one of them scarred her face and killed her sister. Correction-since she was forced to kill the demon possessing her sister. Then some sort of angel offers her a deal she can’t refuse-that if she becomes one of them, she gets to kill even more demons. Tonight, she’s made that choice. The death she smells on the air will be her own-and she welcomes it.<\/p>\n
Silence feels a darkness is looming. Change-something he has every reason not to welcome. The deeply hidden memories that robbed him of his past, of his own name, render him unfit to teach anyone the ways of the Grimm. Yet here he is in the dankest sex club in town, waiting to assume his charge-after he stands by and watches her die. When Vanya awakes, their complicated, dangerous dance begins. And so does something else-a searing need that blisters along their unexpected mental connection. Silence shouldn’t be drawn to his student, but once they touch, he can’t think of a reason to stop. Even though acting out their darkest desires puts them in more danger than they realize. Warning: This book contains sex-starved demons, lonely angels, demon-angel sandwiches, blood, violence, death and a happy-ever-after.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Excerpt…<\/p>\n
(FYI, Silence is mute)<\/p>\n
While she was studying the menu, she was vaguely aware of Silence rising from the bed, vaguely aware of him moving around the room\u2014although he didn\u2019t make a sound.<\/p>\n
He was so damn quiet\u2014Silence\u00a0<\/em>was an appropriate name for him, all right.<\/p>\nWavering between the fettuccini alfredo and the lasagna, fighting the heavy weight of her tired body, she sighed. That voice\u2014the one that had her convinced she was going out of her mind\u2014was there in the back of her head again, murmuring, muttering\u2026<\/p>\n
\u201cI push her too hard. She looks too tired. I should let her rest more.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\u201cI\u2019m fine,\u201d she said absently.<\/p>\n
Then she stiffened and lifted her head, all too aware of his sudden, intent interest. Swallowing, she met his pale blue gaze.<\/p>\n
His eyes narrowed.<\/p>\n
Blood rushed to her cheeks.<\/p>\n
\u201cUm\u2026nothing.\u201d She looked back at the menu in her hands, tried to ignore the voice.<\/p>\n
It was harder, though\u2014because now his voice was\u00a0louder<\/em>.<\/p>\nMore focused.<\/p>\n
And now, he was calling her by name.<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you hear me, Vanya?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\nPointedly, she ignored it. Lasagna, she thought. She really thought she could use some lasagna. It had been a while since she\u2019d had a good dish of lasagna. And after all, he was buying, right? Bread too. Salad. Yeah. That sounded good.<\/p>\n
\u201cVanya, look at me.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\nShe started to whistle as she reached over and grabbed a pen and a notepad from the bedside table.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019ll have to figure out what you want and then I\u2019ll call it in,\u201d she said, forcing more cheer than she actually felt into her voice.<\/p>\n
\u201cJust order me what you\u2019re getting<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n\u201cOkay, two\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
Fuck.<\/p>\n
Her hand tightened on the pen, and then she carefully laid it down before she looked over at him.<\/p>\n
He was eyeing her closely, a narrow, appraising look on his face.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou hear me,\u201d<\/em>\u00a0he said pointedly.<\/p>\n\u201cAh\u2026well, not all the time,\u201d she hedged. Licking her lips, she looked at the menus and then laid them back down, sighing. \u201cI just\u2026hell, I thought I was going crazy or suffering some weird, post-death, come-back-to-life thing.\u201d<\/p>\n
That deep, rumbling laughter whispered through her mind, and a wide grin split his face.<\/p>\n
\u201cExactly how often do you hear me?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\u201cShit,\u201d she muttered, shifting around on the bed. Sighing, she tucked her hair back behind an ear. From the corner of her eye, she saw the menus. Seizing on that distraction, she shoved one toward him. \u201cAren\u2019t we going to eat? I\u2019m hungry.\u201d<\/p>\n
He lifted a brow.<\/p>\n
It was amazing how many things he could say with simply a look.<\/p>\n
Still, she didn\u2019t look away, didn\u2019t lower the menu.<\/p>\n
He signed,\u00a0I already said, whatever you\u2019re having. Order. Then we talk<\/em>.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n
Naturally, it only took two minutes to place the order\u2014nowhere near enough time for her to get her thoughts straight.<\/p>\n
The past month had been hard, grueling\u2014she didn\u2019t even know it was possible for a person to be beaten into the dirt as often as he had. It didn\u2019t necessarily help that come morning, her body felt completely refreshed, completely revitalized\u2026meaning he came at her just as hard, just as fast.<\/p>\n
She\u2019d rather they start a fresh bout of training all over again than to have any sort of\u2026talk<\/em>.<\/p>\nEspecially something remotely personal.<\/p>\n
After she laid the phone back in the cradle, she looked back at Silence.<\/p>\n
The two of them, they hadn\u2019t done much talking, at least not of a personal nature. Lots of training. He\u2019d done a lot of explaining about what sort of demons they\u2019d face\u2014succubae, incubae, orin\u2026others. How they traveled from a place called the netherplains to their world\u2014most of them had to take over a human body in order to do much of anything.<\/p>\n
Basically, she played student to his teacher\u2014if there was a theme song for her new life, maybe it could be \u201cHot for Teacher\u201d.<\/p>\n
He made her heart race just looking at him.<\/p>\n
He also made her belly clench, made her palms go damp, her knees go weak.<\/p>\n
He made her ache.<\/p>\n
In the worst possible way, in the sweetest way.<\/p>\n
And now he wanted to talk about her gifts.<\/p>\n
Hell. This was too damn personal.<\/p>\n
What if he was like her?<\/p>\n
She\u2019d gotten pretty damn good at hiding how she felt over the past few years, but if he was anything like her\u2026<\/p>\n
Vanya blushed even thinking about it. Blushed furiously as she sat there with her chest tight, her palms sweaty, her breath lodged in her throat.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019ve got gifts, don\u2019t you?\u201d she blurted out.<\/p>\n
Silence narrowed his eyes.\u00a0We\u2019re supposed to be talking about your gifts<\/em>, he signed. He added emphasis by jabbing a finger at her after he\u2019d finished.\u00a0Yours<\/em>.<\/p>\n\u201cI know. I just\u2026well, this is weird. I haven\u2019t talked to anybody about what I can do. It\u2019s\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
The hard line of his mouth softened and the aggravated look in his blue eyes faded.\u00a0Not easy to talk about, is it<\/em>? he signed.<\/p>\n\u201cNo.\u201d She hitched a shoulder up, wondered how she could explain that she barely even needed him to sign when he was talking to her because she often heard his voice\u2014low and deep\u2014in the back of her mind. And if he was\u00a0thinking<\/em>\u00a0about her, she heard him too.<\/p>\nHow did she tell him that?<\/p>\n
He sat down next to her. She had to check the impulse to scoot away\u2014the long, hard length of his thigh against hers made her uneasy\u2014made her want to climb into his lap, see if she couldn\u2019t crack the polite, friendly mask he wore around her.<\/p>\n
He held out a hand. Startled, she looked at it\u2014stared at his broad, scarred palm. His hands were a mess\u2014ridged with scars that looked like knife cuts, burns, other old injuries she couldn\u2019t even indentify. So at odds with his perfect, angelic face. Looking from that scarred hand into ice-blue eyes, she said, \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
He grinned. And again she\u00a0heard<\/em>\u00a0his thoughts. \u201cYou want to know about my gifts. I\u2019ll show you.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\nNervously, she laid her hand in his. \u201cYou\u2019re not a psychic, are you?\u201d<\/p>\n
He shook his head, and then with his free hand, gestured to the room.<\/p>\n
Vanya looked around. \u201cI don\u2019t know what I\u2019m looking for\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
He took his hand away.<\/p>\n
The room fell into darkness. Darkness so complete, she couldn\u2019t even see him, although he sat right next to her. She couldn\u2019t\u00a0feel<\/em>\u00a0him, and she\u2019d gotten pretty damn good at that.<\/p>\nThen his hand was in hers again, and the darkness was gone.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
Once more he pulled his hand away.<\/p>\n
The darkness returned.<\/p>\n
\u201c\u2014shit.\u201d<\/p>\n
This time, the darkness didn\u2019t disappear. It gradually bled away, like the night bled into day. Her heart banged hard against her ribs as she looked at him.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat in the hell was that?\u201d<\/p>\n
He smiled and signed. She didn\u2019t recognize it, though.<\/p>\n
When he spoke into her mind, she stiffened. \u201cIt\u2019s illusion. I can make you think you see darkness when there is none.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\nShe blinked. \u201cYou mean, it wasn\u2019t really dark?\u201d Scowling, she remembered the night at the warehouse\u2014the night she died. \u201cThat night. At the warehouse.\u201d<\/p>\n
Absently, she reached up and touched her throat. She couldn\u2019t remember much of anything beyond that first pain, the shock of it. But she remembered everything right\u00a0up<\/em>\u00a0to that point\u2026the fear, the terror. The helplessness\u2014knowing she\u2019d been alone.<\/p>\nBut she hadn\u2019t been.<\/p>\n
He\u2019d been there.<\/p>\n
Waiting.<\/p>\n
Part of her wanted to rebel at the thought\u2014wanted to demand to know why he hadn\u2019t done something\u2014even though she already knew the answer. He\u2019d done exactly what he\u2019d been sent to do.<\/p>\n
She couldn\u2019t very well become one of them if she hadn\u2019t died, could she?<\/p>\n
And just as she\u2019d been promised, she hadn\u2019t been alone.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat night at the warehouse,\u201d she said again. \u201cThere was so much darkness. But it wasn\u2019t darkness, was it? It was you.\u201d<\/p>\n
He nodded. A grim look entered his eyes. \u201cYou know that I couldn\u2019t have stopped what happened\u2014not if you\u2019re meant to be one of us. But I cannot blame you if you are angry.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\u201cI know that.\u201d She sighed and looked away. Bracing her elbows on her knees, she covered her face and said it again. \u201cI know that. It doesn\u2019t mean it\u2019s easy to\u00a0think<\/em>\u00a0about, although\u2026well, it helps knowing I wasn\u2019t alone.\u201d<\/p>\nShe shot him a faint smile. \u201cI was terrified, thinking I was alone.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou weren\u2019t.\u201d<\/em>\u00a0He touched the back of her hand. His mouth twisted as he studied her face.\u00a0\u201cIt wasn\u2019t easy to simply stand there, either. Even knowing what was to come.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\nShe blew out a breath. \u201cWell, it\u2019s over and done, right?\u201d Self-preservation had her forcing some distance between them. Sitting there, so close, was wreaking havoc on her state of mind, not to mention was it doing to her body. \u201cSo, the darkness in there that night\u2014that was all you?\u201d<\/p>\n
Silence nodded and made that unusual sign, the one she didn\u2019t recognize. As he did it, he said in her mind,\u00a0\u201cIllusion. Just illusion. It\u2019s one of my gifts<\/em>.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\u201cThat\u2019s pretty cool,\u201d she murmured, smiling.<\/p>\n
He shrugged. Then he reached up, tapped her brow, waiting with a lifted brow.<\/p>\n
She grimaced. Standing, she moved away from him, slicking her damp palms down the front of her pants. They were snug-fitting black yoga pants\u2014something Silence had picked up for her. Along with several other changes of clothes\u2014more yoga pants, close-fitting sport bras, the sort of clothes she could maneuver in while he pounded her into the floor.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m psychic,\u201d she said, keeping her back to him, staring out the window into the night. \u201cIt\u2019s not exactly reliable, and usually I\u2019ve never gotten anything more than the odd random thought here and there. It was strongest with my sister. After she died, it got more erratic\u2014more like a radio station I couldn\u2019t quite get to tune in. It was awful when I was in crowds\u2014like I was hearing all these screaming voices and I couldn\u2019t focus on any of them.\u201d<\/p>\n
The muscles at the base of her neck were tight. Reaching up, she cupped a hand over it, rolled her head first one way then the other, trying to ease the tension there, but it didn\u2019t help.<\/p>\n
She was still a mess of nerves.<\/p>\n
A mess of need.<\/p>\n
She didn\u2019t hear him\u2014<\/p>\n
She felt him.<\/p>\n
He was there, that big, powerful body heating hers through and through. His hand came up, lightly brushed hers. As if asking permission.<\/p>\n
Get the hell away from him before you do something really, really stupid, Van,<\/em>\u00a0she told herself.\u00a0Like throw yourself at him.<\/em><\/p>\nBut when he gently nudged her hand out of the way, she couldn\u2019t find the strength to do anything but stand there.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd the gift is different now, isn\u2019t it? Is more powerful? Other changes since you came back?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\nShe shivered at the low, velvety rumble of his voice echoing through her mind. Or maybe it was the way his roughened skin rasped over her neck as he dug his thumbs into her skin and started to massage away the tension there. Heat blossomed inside and she swallowed the moan before it could escape.<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah,\u201d she said, surprised at how steady, how calm her voice sounded. \u201cIt\u2019s changed, although I don\u2019t know if I can say it\u2019s more powerful exactly. Most of the change seems to be related to you\u2014I can hear your voice, and you sound clearer than anybody else ever did. The few times we\u2019ve been around other people\u2026well, there\u2019s not much change there. Although that could be because I\u2019m not around them much. There are times when I hear your voice as clearly as if you\u2019re talking to me, and the more time that passes, the clearer it gets.\u201d<\/p>\n
His hands never stilled, and although she couldn\u2019t pick apart the individual thoughts, they were in the back of her head, like the dull hum of a conversation she could barely hear.<\/p>\n
Finally, he asked,\u00a0\u201cWhen does it seem to be the most clear?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\u201cWhen you\u2019re thinking about me. Or like now\u2014if you\u2019re talking\u00a0to<\/em>\u00a0me.\u201d His thumb hit a particularly tight spot to the right of her neck, and despite herself, she groaned. Then, as he focused on that knot of tension, she let her head fall forward, all but sagging against the cool, glass window.<\/p>\n\u201cBut not all the time?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\u201cNo. And I think if you try to\u00a0keep<\/em>\u00a0me from hearing you, I wouldn\u2019t hear you,\u201d she said, frowning as she focused and tried to pick up the trail of his thoughts and discovered she couldn\u2019t.<\/p>\nShe could still hear that dull roar of his thoughts, but nothing she could pick apart and focus on.<\/p>\n
\u201cThis is interesting. We should see who else it works on,\u201d<\/em>\u00a0he said.<\/p>\nAbsently, she murmured, \u201cI told you, I don\u2019t hear others this clearly.\u201d But she was too focused on what else she was picking up from him\u2026something warm, bright\u2026an oddly shimmering thing. Emotion, she realized. One she could only describe as pleasure. Happiness, even.<\/p>\n
Without understanding why, she somehow knew he was\u2026happy. Pleased. Slipping away from his hands, she turned around and stared up at him, studying him. \u201cYou\u2019re happy about this,\u201d she said, frowning.<\/p>\n
Something akin to surprise flashed through his eyes. Then he shut it down and that odd warmth she\u2019d been feeling was abruptly cut off. He lifted a brow and signed,\u00a0What makes you think that<\/em>?<\/p>\n\u201cThe fact that I was feeling it from you?\u201d she said, shrugging. \u201cIt doesn\u2019t make much sense to me\u2014if somebody told me they were hearing\u00a0my<\/em>\u00a0thoughts, I think I\u2019d be pissed.\u201d<\/p>\nShe went to edge around him, but he caught her arm.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou haven\u2019t been locked in silence for hundreds of years, Vanya. I have. Having somebody who can hear me at all, well, it\u2019s not unpleasant. It isn\u2019t as though I cannot block you out, as you\u2019ve already pointed out. I imagine it\u2019s somewhat discomfiting for you, however.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\nHis pale blue eyes held hers. There was something so raw in that look\u2014so intimate, so unsettling.<\/p>\n
Without realizing what she planned to do, she reached up and touched a hand to his throat, felt the warmth of his skin, the slow, steady beat of his pulse under her thumb.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s not discomfiting,\u201d she said quietly, stroking her thumb over his skin.<\/p>\n
\u201cThis doesn\u2019t bother you?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\nHis eyes\u2026damn it, she was getting lost in his eyes\u2026<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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