Page 87 of Warrior's Cross

Not in this situation. He was frightened and growing more so by the minute. He’d never been afraid for himself before now. Only for Julian.

He walked out of the building into the warm, slightly stuffy air and started walking home, just like he always did. It wasn’t long before the rustle of soft footsteps accompanied his own.

The first time he noticed, Cameron thought he was hearing things.

Echoes on a quiet night. The second time, he knew. He swallowed hard and stopped at the corner before chancing a look over his shoulder. A slim figure walked along the sidewalk at a casual pace, hands in pockets and head bowed against the warm wind that whipped between the tall buildings on either side of the street.

Cameron looked back at the street and jogged across it. He’d been out at this time of night hundreds of times. And here in the retail-driven city center, there was almost always at least a small amount of traffic on the streets. But for some reason, tonight there was nothing. His heart was beating hard as he started walking again, trying to keep it casual.

The other person—man?—continued on his own path, seemingly oblivious to Cameron’s change of direction until he reached a crosswalk. He looked both ways and then crossed the street, keeping up with Cameron in an alarmingly off-hand manner.

Cameron forced himself to remain calm. Or at least somewhat calm. Not visibly freaking out. His condo was only a block away. But if the man was indeed following him, there was no way Cameron could go there. Not safely. Behind him, his shadow picked up the pace and began to slowly close in on him.

Shivering as his nerves ramped up, a memory of Julian once saying he’d stopped Cameron from being mugged popped into his head. Maybe that was all this was. His hand strayed to his breastbone, touching the necklace hidden under his shirt. Before he could think about it, Cameron stopped and whirled around, determined to see what was coming.

The sidewalk behind him was empty, save for a newspaper rolling slowly across the street.

Cameron stared for a long moment, unnerved, his breathing jerky.

The hair on the back of his neck was standing up. Julian had been able to disappear like that; this man was apparently cut from the same cloth, and Cameron was no longer entertaining thoughts of coincidences or possible muggings. He looked from side to side before slowly turning back to the direction he’d been walking. He walked more slowly, all his senses alert for the slightest hint of the man following him again. The rustle of a newspaper followed him, but he heard no more footsteps.

Letting out a shaky breath, Cameron again debated the wisdom of going home. He wasn’t sure if he was letting the whole mess with Julian get to him. He shook his head and started walking faster again.

He was almost home. If he could just get home behind the locked doors, he knew he’d be able to shake off the odd feelings.

As he made it to the door of his building, a low hissing sound met his ears. “Keep walking,” a muffled voice said from the shadow of a decorative pillar. “Go around the corner and wait. Then come back and get inside.”

Cameron stutter-stepped, but he distantly recognized what was going on, even if it scared the hell out of him. He made himself keep moving, right past his door and up to the corner, forcing himself not to look back. Once out of view he turned and ducked into the darkness.

He took several more steps and stopped, leaning back against the brick wall. He was shaking all over, his breathing coming in tiny gasps as he strained to hear what was going on.

It was Julian. Ithadto be Julian.

Moments later he could hear the shuffle of feet and what sounded like a hard collision of bodies. “’Scuse me!” someoneshouted drunkenly. “Hey! This here’smyside a the road!” the drunk shouted belligerently. It was followed with the scuffling sound of a stumble, as if someone had been shoved.

“God!” he heard a frighteningly familiar British accent exclaim in disgust. “You smell like piss, mate.”

Cameron’s stomach plummeted.

“Piss? I’ll show you piss!” the drunk cackled gleefully.

Moments later there was another muffled exclamation, and when Cameron cautiously peered around the corner at the street he could see Lancaster jogging to the other sidewalk. The man looked back over his shoulder as he walked quickly, and then he stopped and kicked at his shoe as if it had something on it. He looked around at the street ahead, hands fisting at his sides, and Cameron jerked back into the shadowed doorway where he was hiding. He felt choked with fright and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. But he had to see, just in case Lancaster came his way.

“Bugger,” Lancaster muttered as he looked out at the empty street.

He turned and looked back over his shoulder, obviously searching for the drunk who had accosted him, and he shook his head in disgust when he found himself alone on the street. “Jules?” he called out in an almost amused voice. There was no response from the deserted streets.

“That’s a new one. I’ll give you that much,” he said into the silence and then cocked his head to await a response. None came.

Lancaster waited another few breaths, then turned and began to head back the way he’d come, swiftly moving out of sight.

Cameron waited until he couldn’t see the man anymore before he walked cautiously back to the corner and peeked around it down the sidewalk to his building. A man appeared out of the alley along the other side of the building, dressedin tattered layers and holding a nearly empty bottle of liquor. He was looking the other way, making certain the man who’d been following Cameron was out of sight. As Cameron watched, he took a long swig of the bottle in his hand. He straightened and seemed to shake out his shoulders, growing taller and straighter, then he rolled his shoulders and hunched again. Cameron’s first thought was that it was Julian in disguise. It had to be. His heart hammered as he took a step away from the corner.

The bum turned and looked back toward Cameron. He caught sight of Cameron and raised his bottle unsteadily in a silent salute before beginning to shuffle off the other way, weaving drunkenly and struggling clumsily with the fur-lined hat he wore to keep it out of his eyes. As the hat moved, Cameron caught a glimpse of Preston’s shock of blond hair even in the low light of the street-lamps, and his heart sank briefly with a pang of confusing disappointment.

Coming around the corner, Cameron found it hard to breathe. It hadn’t been Preston’s voice that had warned him. And where Preston was, Julian was sure to be close. His hand again moved to his throat where the pendant still hung. ItwasJulian. Even after what Cameron had said to drive him away, Julian was still protecting him. He looked around the shadows, knowing instinctively that Julian was still there, somewhere, waiting and watching in case there was still danger.

“Julian?” he called softly, just as Lancaster had done. The name echoed through the empty streets until the distant sounds of traffic were once more the only sounds Cameron could hear.

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