Darkness Comes (27 page)

Rolling onto her side, she could still smell the musty odor of the room they had gathered in, could taste the rank coffee they had drunk to stay awake. She knew the names of the men serving under her but they were fighting vampires, which made zero sense. Vampires weren’t real; why would she dream about vampires? Why would she dream about war?

Smiling ruthlessly at the absurdity of a dream that felt way too real, she climbed out of bed. Her brain was too wide awake to go back to sleep and her body was tingling with the after-shocks of another nocturnal orgasm and war. Scrubbing her fingers through her hair, still feeling the grime of fighting and lost hope, she was glad that it had been just a dream.

Shaking her head, she threw on her robe and headed downstairs to grab a glass of milk, her brain too wired to sleep. She walked into the kitchen, wrapping her arms around herself as she made her way over to the refrigerator, her thoughts consumed by the images from her dream. Even the memory of the first time she and Jack made love was… off. The location was right but the lead up was all wrong. She hadn’t been in the depths of despair; she had been celebrating her eighteenth birthday and Jack had just proposed.

Except that version felt false, especially when compared to what had happened in her dream.

Taking her milk to the living room and making herself comfortable in the big leather chair, she let her mind wander, picturing the scars that had marked her stomach. Absently, she took a drink of the milk and quickly decided that it wasn’t what she wanted so she set it down on the side table. Closing her eyes, she pulled the nightgown up her legs and slid her hand beneath the material, feeling the smooth skin of an unmarred belly.

“
Stay in the car, Mal,” her father ordered, climbing out of the old, dependable pick up. Several other cars were already there, the inhabitants waiting for Gus to give the orders. “This is a simple op; we’ll be in and out in no time.”

“
Can’t I go?” she asked, her voice small. Young. “I’ve been training….”

He shook his head, his eyes sparkling with amusement, “You’re ten, Mal; you shouldn’t even be here. In fact, I think I’ll drive you back to the hotel….”

“
No,” she said quickly, even as he was climbing back into the truck. “You go do what needs to be done and I’ll stay here.”

“
Promise?”

“
I said I would.” And she had meant it. She would have kept that promise had she not seen three vampires sneak in after him about ten minutes later, the stench of their excitement reaching her from across the parking lot. It was a trap and her father was in danger. Thinking about it for all of two seconds, she grabbed her stake and sword and furtively made her way into the abandoned warehouse.

Nervous and excited and terrified, Malorie recited everything her father had taught her over the years about hunting vampires. But her brain emptied of everything when she entered the building and a vampire was waiting for her. She stared at it as it stared at her and Mal saw that it had been a female when it was alive; now it was just a corpse.

Mal was the first to come to her senses, raising her sword and charging after the monster. Instead of attacking as Mal expected, the creature covered its head with its arms, protecting itself from some unknown threat. Without a qualm, Mal thrust the stake into the exposed area around the heart and the vamp imploded, the magic no longer there to keep it alive.

Mal’s knees had gone weak and she fell to the ground with a thud; her first field kill. It hadn’t been anything at all like she expected but she was still glad to be alive. She only gave herself a few seconds to let it soak in; there were still two other vampires that were a threat to her father. Taking a breath, she pushed herself to her feet and started towards the back of the building, giddy with what she had done.

Quietly, she made her way through the old warehouse, coming across nothing more menacing than a rat. Where had the other two vamps disappeared? Except, she knew; it hadn’t been a trap for her father, it had been a trap from the vamps. Her father was going to kill her if he discovered she had left the truck.

She tried to hurry back but she had become hopelessly lost in the mammoth, poorly-lit building. Her eyes welled with tears and her lower lip trembled with how badly she had messed up. If her father returned and she wasn’t there….

Voices up ahead alerted her to her father’s presence and she quietly rushed towards the sound, relief making her even giddier than her first field kill. She arrived at a door that was cracked open and inside she could see her father, several of her father’s soldiers and a couple of vamps. Only, her father was being held by a vampire, as were most of his men. Only two of his men remained free, but they were smiling at the vampires in a way that Malorie did not like.

“
We did as we promised,” Justin said, one of the free humans. Malorie thought she was going to be sick. “Now, give us what you promised us.”

“
Of course,” a ghoulish vamp smiled, ancient in its decay. Two vampires stepped forward and in unison, ripped the throats out of the two traitors, the screams dying before they had even begun. Malorie covered her mouth with her hand to prevent any sound from escaping. If she had any hope of saving her father, she was going to have to think fast.

With her heart racing, she just needed to give her father a distraction; something that he could use to turn the tides and give him the chance to fight back. But what could she possibly do? She was ten years old…. She was ten years old. Clearing her throat, she called out, “Father? Are you in there? Father?”

“
Don’t tell me you brought your….” The words ended as her father thrust his stake deep into the vamp’s heart.

“
Get out of here, Mal!” he called out through grunts and groans. She risked a peak through the door and saw that her father’s men had turned the situation around: just about all of the vampires had been staked and were imploding all over the place.

One of the vampires that she had spied was behind her father but her father was unaware. If she called out it would distract him from the fight he was in; if she did nothing, he would be killed. Taking a deep breath, she burst into the room and charged after the vamp, her stake held high. It must have sensed her coming because it spun around just as her stake sank into its chest. Just as its razor-sharp talons sank into her belly.

It had just enough life to jerk its hand along her flesh, a ghastly smile curving its mottled lips before it imploded.

“
Jesus Christ, Mal,” her father cried out, rushing over to her. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“
Helping,” she managed, dots swimming before her eyes. She refused to show weakness in front of her father or his men and so she ignored the pain, the blood spilling from her gut.

He kneeled down in front of her and took hold of her shoulders, “This is no place for you, sweetheart; what if something happened to you? It would destroy me.”

“
I’m sorry, sir,” she whispered, swallowing against the agony burning in her gut.

“
Jesus, Mal,” he chuckled, reaching up and ruffling her short hair. “You are a hell of a fighter. Thanks for… Oh, fuck.”

“
I’m sorry, father.” She hadn’t realized she had passed out even as she was scooped up in her father’s strong arms. She woke when he burst through the door of the old hotel they were living in, making his way to the common rooms where he carefully laid her on the low-lying coffee table.

“
Mac!” he cried out, pressing his hand against her stomach. “Get my kid patched up. Now!”

There was a lot of commotion as so many people came to see what was happening, as the medic made his way to her side. Her eyes automatically searched for her father, needing to see him in order to be able to feel safe. He was kneeling next to her, her small hand in his. There were tears in his eyes as he looked at her, “Don’t die on me, sweetheart.”

“
I won’t,” she promised, holding his gaze as the medic poured liquid fire on her stomach. The anti-venom. She knew that the anti-venom was just a needless precaution; she hadn’t drunk any vamp blood, she wouldn’t change. Her hand tightened its hold on her father but she didn’t scream.

“
And Mal?” Her father wore a forced smile but as she blinked in response, he said, “Thanks for saving my life.”

She would have replied but the medic stuck a needle into her skin and started sewing her shut and she blacked out.

Malorie jerked awake, her body flailing as if she were falling. Her hand slammed against the cup of milk and sent it crashing to the ground. That had been one hell of a dream; she could feel the talons ripping into the tender flesh of her stomach, the burn of the anti-venom, the pull and tug of Mac stitching her up. Ignoring the spilled milk, she rushed to the bathroom and yanked the nightgown and robe from her body.

The mirror showed her what she should have expected but didn’t: smooth, unscarred flesh. It should have had four jagged lines, but it didn’t. Freaking out a bit, she ran her fingers over the skin of her belly, expecting to feel the puckered flesh of scar tissue and feeling nothing more than her skin. Meeting her eyes in the mirror, she looked half crazed and had to laugh at herself. She was upset that she didn’t have scars that she received in a dream. She was having some seriously fucked up dreams; maybe she would have to be more careful about eating anything before bedtime.

Looking at the mirror, she ran her hands over the smooth skin, watching herself in the reflection, feeling out of step with reality. Her life was nothing like her dreams; it had been so quiet and uneventful as to be boring in the extreme, except that she loved it. She loved the peacefulness, the lack of drama; it had been everything she could have wanted.

So why did it feel so wrong?

Needing to connect with what was true, she tried to imagine Jack moving his hands over her body: cupping her breasts in his work-roughened hands, touching her in her most intimate places. But it wasn’t his hands she pictured; the hands that lay claim to her body were bigger, darker, more elegant. She could almost picture the black-haired man standing behind her, meeting her gaze in the reflection, a mocking smile on his familiar lips. Letting her eyes close, she could almost feel him.

But he wasn’t real and if that made her sad, she was just going to have to suck it up because the only thing she knew to be real was Toby. What if she was having a nervous breakdown? She’d need to keep her son safe, from herself if necessary, but who would she ask to watch him? Her father… her father was… unavailable. Where was he?

Shaking her head, she reached out an unsteady hand and grabbed the nightgown, awkwardly putting it back on and covering her body. She was just going to have to try harder at not letting her dreams mess her up. They weren’t real; catching her gaze in the mirror, she whispered, “This is real. Standing here in the middle of the night with my nightgown on backwards is real.”

Fixing the gown, she smoothed her hands down the front of it, determined to keep her sanity. Well, maybe she would allow a little bit of her madness to seep in, as long as he looked like the green-eyed man from her dreams. He had that thick, black hair that hung to the most amazing broad shoulders she had ever seen, which was only fitting when she remembered the sculpted planes of his chest and abs. She hadn’t known men could have such taut, washboard abs. Then there was his penis, thick and extra-large, veined and corded with the most lusciously shaped head. She really had to give her imagination props for creating such a delicious subject to dream about; if only it wasn’t so creative in the war and vampire department.

It was almost like she knew him but she had never come across someone like that in real life. Maybe he was a model on the cover of one of her romance novels, or an actor in a movie, though she couldn’t remember watching any movies lately that featured such a stunning creation of masculinity. She couldn’t remember watching any movies, actually. It seemed like something she should do, just that it was something she didn’t do.

Maybe she would take Toby to the movies in the afternoon, find an animated film or something that they could enjoy. And then they could go out for some ice cream because it was like her dad always said, ice cream was one of the major food groups. It was just unfortunate that the thought of ice cream made her slightly nauseous. She was simply over-tired and needed to get back to bed and go back to sleep. And pray that her dreams stayed far away from war.

Chuckling softly, a little madly, she went back up the stairs, wondering if Toby would even sit through an entire movie. She’d have to hold back on the drinks and popcorn because the one way to guarantee a bathroom run was to get a giant soda. And one cannot have movie popcorn without something to drink.

Pausing outside of his room, she opened the door and peaked in on him, smiling as she saw him curled up on his side and sleeping peacefully. If she could freeze time, she would freeze this moment, when her son hadn’t a care in the world and felt safe, loved. She would give anything to keep his world pleasant. Unlike her own childhood….