Shadow Protector. Jenna Ryan

       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 a white bandanna at the murder scene. It’s the signature of a serial killer. A phantom. You saw the person who did this—we’re sure of it. You called Security. You screamed. The guard was down the hall, less than ten seconds away. He thought you were both dead when he found you …”

      His voice trailed off. This really was a nightmare, Sera decided. Maybe if she did as the cop suggested and concentrated, she could erase some of the more gruesome aspects.

      Determined, she willed the man away, shut out the blurred lights and, because she knew it was important, concentrated on the throbbing pain at the base of her skull.

      For a heartbeat, the world went dark.

      When it relit, she was being ushered through a door. And, damn, there he was again. The careworn cop.

      “You’ll be safe here, Doctor. Leo and I have been partners for twenty years. We haven’t lost a witness yet.”

      She was a witness? Her mind snapped to attention. Had she seen Andrea’s killer? Please, God, no, had she watched her die?

      The