Darkness Becomes Her (17 page)

“Let me try something else.” She held out her hands, palms up, and imagined breaking off pieces of herself. Tried so hard her head hurt.

The black fog swirled in her palms. She pushed harder. Yes, they were forming into round balls. Russell could direct his dogs. He’d used them to track her, probably. They were part of his Darkness. She could do it, too.

With sheer force of will, she directed them to a place on the far wall. They shivered and trembled, their fog tightening into form.

Yes! Go splat.

They both launched off her hands . . . and fell to the floor, where they splintered apart. She let out a sigh of frustration. “Russell’s had a lot longer to work on this stuff. He probably did it in his cell during lights out. And he’s Callorian, and the one who tapped directly into Darkness. I inherited a weaker version of it.”

Lachlan was still staring at the floor where they’d hit. He finally looked at her. “But you did it. Which means you can learn to master it.”

At least someone was excited about it. And he hadn’t rubbed it in that she’d also had plenty of time to work with it. Instead, she’d taught herself karate and kept in shape to be defensive. Now she had to go on the offensive.

She closed her eyes, held out her hands and concentrated.

Two grueling hours later she was lobbing black blobs toward Lachlan, who was hitting them baseball style with his sword. They splintered on contact, much weaker than Russell’s dogs, who could withstand the hit.

She dropped down to the shiny wood floor, too tired to even care how hard it was. “I’m exhausted. Not the kind I feel after working on karate moves for two hours.”

“Using supernatural abilities wipes you out in ways beyond physical exertion. I was always shattered after astral projection.” He loomed above her, his hand stretched down. “One more hour. Then we’ll break for a meal and rest.”

“One more
hour
?”

“Sixty little minutes.”

She merely looked at him, not moving a muscle.

His mouth quirked. “You’re giving me the same look you had when you sent me that lovely gesture with your finger.”

“That’s ’cause I’m too tired to make the gesture. But don’t doubt for a second that I’m sending it.”

“You’re not going back until I’m sure you can protect yourself.” He tilted his head at an angle. “You don’t look very tough at the moment.”

“I can’t move. I mean, I really can’t move. My body is a blob of jelly.”

He knelt down, scooped her up and flung her over his shoulder. Then he walked to the door.

“Where are you taking me?”

“To bed.”

Her body perked up at that. “Really?”

“You can have a little rest, eat, and then we’re back at it.”

Rest. Of course. “Thank you.”

He walked across the courtyard to the room she was staying in, opened the door, and set her gently down on the bed. “I’ll get you in an hour.”

Which meant he wasn’t joining her. Just as well, all things considered. Maybe she’d scared him a bit, seeing her Become. Maybe it disgusted him or freaked him out, though he didn’t look either of those things.

He tucked her in, as he’d done one other time. She felt like a girl, Daddy tucking her in. He made her feel safe, loved, or at least cared about. She grabbed for his hand as he started to back away.

“My name is Ally Jackson. Short for Allyssa.”

He stopped, his expression softening.

“I met Jessie at the second foster home. She was a foster kid, too. Remember Mattie Stepanek, the boy in the wheelchair who was on television a lot? He wrote those beautiful poetry books about love and peace? Jessie had the same fatal form of muscular dystrophy.”

It hurt to think of her, so pretty, with glossy blond hair and blue eyes the color of a deep mountain lake. “Jessie had been with the Marshes for most of her life. She was already in a wheelchair when I got there. She, more than anyone, taught me that no matter what, you can find joy in life. It was a great lesson for me. I was scared, angry, closed. She was the only person I ever opened up to, though not completely. I told her about my dad killing my mom, and I hated lying like that. But if she ever heard the news story or found it online, it would be my dad who went to prison, so I kept it simple.”

He just listened, without any judgment, arms at his sides.

She scrunched the blanket in her hands. “She and I were born on the same day and year. We looked nothing alike, but we told people we were twins. When she died two years later, I was devastated.

“Soon after that, I was waiting to give Mrs. Marsh my report card when I saw Jessie’s folder buried under a bunch of other stuff in her office. Mom Marsh had to run to find the ringing phone, and I opened the folder. Copies of Jessie’s Social Security card and birth and death certificate were in there. I took the folder and put it in my school backpack.”

She shrugged. “I don’t know why I did it. Maybe to keep her close. Or maybe I knew I would take her identity someday. I’m sure Mrs. Marsh was supposed to file something with the government, but right afterward, her husband got into a car accident. His injuries made life even more hectic. She probably forgot all about the folder.

“I continued on through school and graduated. I knew Russell would be released someday, and I figured I’d be safe if he couldn’t find me through my name. And it was like resurrecting my old friend. Jessie lived! But yeah, I felt wrong doing it, too. The first time I got a paycheck and my new driver’s license, I worried. Nothing happened, no one knocked on my door, and eventually I relaxed.” She looked at him. He’d stood the whole time she was talking, no expression on his face. “Am I a horrible person?”

“No.” He reached down and brushed the back of his hand against her cheek.

He wouldn’t judge her. He’d done worse things, in his opinion. Like him, she judged herself more harshly than anyone ever would.

He stepped back. “Get some sleep, Jessie. I want to see your cat. All of it.”

Chapter 17

“O
laf!” Jessie called, standing in front of Lachlan in the living room.

Nothing.

“What if he was sucked into the Light? I haven’t seen him since I came back.” Panic tightened her throat. She needed him. They’d spent another hour in the studio working on the blobs, and she’d very nearly gotten a
splat
out of them. She hadn’t produced her cat, though.

“Olaf,” Lachlan said.

Olaf’s image shimmered into place. “Ye called?”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I did, but you didn’t come.”

“Canna hear ye, lass. Only the laddie, here. Missed me, did ye?”

She smiled. “Yes. Terribly.” That smile faded. “I want you to take me back to the Void. I need to get my dad out of there.”

He listened with what appeared to be sympathy, but at those last words said, “I dinna want to go back there.”

“My daddy’s soul is there. I’ve been an orphan since I was ten, and now I have a chance to get my dad back. I can’t leave him there, Olaf.” She told him what she’d seen, how the wall was swallowing him. “I have to save him. I’ll pay your price.”

She wasn’t above bribing. She pulled off her shirt and closed the few feet between her and Lachlan. She yanked his shirt over his head, slapped her hands against his back and pulled him against her. On her tiptoes, her mouth connected with his.

“You are killing me,” Lachlan managed to say.

She plunged her tongue into his mouth, raking her nails down his back, and felt his body respond. His hands had started bracing her face but now moved back through her hair. She kissed down his chin, his throat, holding onto his hips for balance. Her tongue flicked against his skin, leaving behind a trail of chill bumps. He let out a soft moan, both agony and pleasure as she moved down to trace circles around his hard nipple. She didn’t know men’s nipples hardened when they were aroused. There was so much she didn’t know about men and their bodies. She sucked softly. She’d never done this before either.

All around him was Olaf’s ghostly image, but she was tasting, licking, Lachlan. It was all him, breathing in huffs, fingers kneading in her hair. She moved across his chest to his other nipple, doing the same. Then she moved lower, down the ridges of his stomach.

“No, you’re really killing me,” he said on a tight breath.

She’d hooked her fingers on the waistband of his jeans in front. She had the most delirious urge to unbutton, unzip, taste him. That hard ridge went right up to the top of the waistband.

“Now ye’ve got it, lassie!”

Olaf. She jerked upright, blinking to bring herself back and trying to catch her breath. “There.” She pulled on her shirt. “Was that sufficient?”

Lachlan made a choking sound, but she tried to keep her focus on Olaf, who wore a ghostly grin. “I wasna going to ask you for that again. Ye won me over with the sob story about your dad. Still, I enjoyed it verra much.”

She smoothed down her hair, feeling all the blood leave her face before rushing back. “Oh.” Cleared her throat. “Well, then. Thank you for helping.”

Had she been a bit . . . too eager? Now that Lachlan had woken up her body, she craved sensual pleasure. Craved him.

“Did you come?” she whispered.

“No, I won’t be going off like a teenager again. I’ve got it under control, no thanks to you. Are you trying to drive me nuts?”

“Just paying the price.”

She sat on the sofa, the leather cool beneath her. Lachlan still looked flushed and peeved as he sat down in front of her.

“If you didn’t come, why was there semen at the tip?”

He raised his eyebrow. “It’s charming, really, this mix of sensuality and naiveté.”

“No, it’s not.” She didn’t want to come off as naive. “I’m curious, that’s all.”

“Are we ready?” Olaf said. “Before the sad story wears off and I change my mind.”

She reached out and clasped Lachlan’s hands. The weird energy flowed through her, like last time, and then she was floating in nothingness, the Void a dark specter above them. Olaf handed her the rope, and she wound it through her fingers and faced the opening.

“Daddy, I’m coming.” She whispered it, then shouted it.

Even knowing what to expect, it was no less disgusting and scary when she slid into the folds. How fast was the thing swallowing her father? Would only the tip of his nose be showing now? He’d said time was different here, but she wasn’t sure whether it would work for or against her. She was midway in, trying to remember how she’d gone last time, when she heard a woman’s voice.

“Ally! Is that you, baby?”

She knew that voice. It wound around her heart the same way the rope twined around her fingers. “Mom?”

“Thank God you’re here. I thought I felt you before, but I couldn’t believe it. But it’s true.”

The hope in her voice sailed through Jessie, too. “I’m coming.”

“Follow my voice. I can’t wait to see you. You’re probably all grown up now.”

Jessie slid through the cracks, timing the breaths. Her fingers tightened on the rope. She wouldn’t drop it this time.

She stepped into a small chamber like the one that held her father.
“Mom.”
A word filled with pain and love. The same nausea hit her as she took in the horror of that wall. She rushed forward. “How are you here?” Calista was in the same state, not much of her beautiful face showing, not a strand of the long dark hair Jessie remembered. She touched her mom’s fingers, feeling again like that little girl who never got enough of her mommy’s love.

“I came when your father’s soul did, after I died.”

“That was you calling to me the last time I came here, wasn’t it?”

A moment of silence passed. “I forget I can’t nod anymore. Yes. I could feel you there, just barely hear your voice. How have you come to be here?”

She told her briefly about Olaf and held up the golden rope. “This is my way out. I came back to free Daddy. I’ll free you, too.” She tugged on the rope to bring it to her mother’s fingers.

Hope flared in Calista’s eyes for a second. “But I have no body to go back to.”

Jessie gasped in frustration. “I didn’t think about that.”

“But there is a way.”

“How?” She gripped the rope as hope surged.

“Do you trust me, baby? Do you trust your mommy?”

She nodded.

“I know you think Russell has been hunting you for revenge.”

Her heart plunged. “Yes, he’s been hunting me. He killed my dog. He hurt my friends.”

“Calm down, sweetheart. He’s only been hunting you because he needs something from you. To free me.”

She stumbled back a step. “Free you? But he put you here. He killed you—that’s why you have no body to return to. He killed you and took Daddy’s body.”

“Your father killed me. Russell sent him here to punish him. He sent me here to try to find a way to bring me back. He’s been working on that, but all those years in prison kept him from doing much.”

“No.” Jessie shook her head so hard she felt dizzy. “Daddy did
not
kill you.”

Calista let out a soft breath, her green eyes filled with sadness. “You’ve gone through so much, you poor thing. That terrible day . . . fifteen years ago, right? How much did you see?”

“Russell and Daddy fighting. You were . . . already on the floor bleeding. Then Russell sent his Darkness into Daddy’s body and banished him to here.”

“I’m glad you didn’t see him kill me. But you must know what he did before you try to free him. Russell came to the house to declare for me. He’d been in love with me all those years, and no, he shouldn’t have barged in like he did. He was a man driven by passion.”

By Darkness.

“Your father became outraged. I knew about the Darkness, but I’d never seen it in him. It was frightening. He became a monster and spent that rage on me.”

“No.”

“Honey, I’m sorry. I never wanted to take that away from you. But you mustn’t free that man.”

“If Russell is trying to help you, why are you imprisoned just like Daddy?” None of this made sense.

“Russell didn’t know what this would become. He created it, but it took on a life all its own. Your father and I were in different chambers. He was contained. I was not. But eventually this mass began growing. It trapped my feet first, and then the wall came to me, growing inch by inch. It will continue until it swallows me whole. It’s growing faster, and time is running out for me.” Fear penetrated her voice, her eyes, tearing at Jessie’s heart.

She instinctually shifted her feet, looking down at the ridged gray floor. “What does Russell need from me?”

“Your blood. He knew you would never trust him, so he had planned to capture you and take some blood. Not a lot, a pint maybe. He would then release you unharmed. I hated that it would be so frightening for you, but I knew he was right. You fought him.” She smiled softly. “Of course you would. You were a feisty girl.

“He felt terrible about your dog, broke down and cried right here. But it was threatening him. And he’s growing desperate. He loves me, has always loved me. Your father was a good man, but he hated his younger brother. I became something else they fought over.”

Jessie could see how they’d fall in love with a beautiful, fragile woman. “But Daddy loved you, didn’t he?”

“I think he did, but in this fierce, territorial way. He was insanely jealous, moving us far away after we married because he thought Russell was looking for me. All Russell wanted was love, acceptance. I loved them both, but I got pregnant by Henry and so I married him. I’m glad I did.” She smiled. “Russell had a place in my heart, even after he married, and had a son. I’d heard that his wife died in a fall a few years later. A few months before the end, Russell and I met up. He wanted to heal me. He’d learned Darkness could do that, and he gave me small doses.”

Jessie’s mouth tightened. “You had an affair, cheated on my dad.”

“How could I not fall for a man who loved me that much?”

“So that’s why you started getting better.”

“He had nothing but his love for me. His son had turned his back on him. I . . . couldn’t do it, too. His devotion has never wavered. He has been coming here ever since my ‘death,’ trying to free me. But we need you, darling. Just a little of your blood. Please trust him. He won’t hurt you, I promise.”

Jessie’s knees went so weak, she slumped to the floor. Her father a murderer? Russell not so much the bad guy? Her heart hurt, as though this horrible organism was squeezing it.

“I wish I could hold you, darling, like I did when you were a girl. I’ve missed you so much.”

Jessie didn’t point out that she had done most of the holding. It didn’t matter. The floor pulsed beneath her hands. She lurched up, wavering. “I’ve missed you, too.” All those years of longing for her mother, feeling so pained and envious when she saw mothers and daughters together. “He’ll use Darkness to bring your body back?”

“Yes. He’ll create a body using your blood, because it contains my DNA. I’ll have Darkness, too. We’ll be alike, all of us. And maybe someday we can be a family.”

“No, I will not be a family with Russell. With you, yes. Not him.”

“Okay. You’ll need time, I understand that. But he loves me, angel. He loves me so much he’s making himself crazy trying to save me. I hate shattering your illusion about your father, but think about this: why was
he
sent to prison?”

“They convict innocent people because of circumstantial evidence all the time.”

“Evidence confirmed that he’d done it, blood splatter, fingerprints. Think on it. You’ll know in your heart what the truth is. But don’t think too long.” She wiggled her fingers. “I don’t have much time.”

The breathing was getting louder.

She walked closer to her mother. “Are you in pain?”

“No. The agony has been watching the walls close in. But it’s almost over, one way or the other. You must go. Find Russell, give him your blood, and then come back for your father, if you must. But if you bring your father back now, Russell’s soul will be gone, and so will the knowledge of how to bring me back. You must go to Russell first.”

The choice twisted inside Jessie. She’d come to save her father, but it would be at the expense of her mother’s soul.

“All right.”

Her mom sighed in relief. “Thank you, baby. I knew you’d make the right decision. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.” The words came out in a whisper. “How do I find him?”

“Put a note on your apartment door with your phone number. He’ll call you.”

Jessie gripped the rope and walked toward the crevice from which she’d come. One last look at her mom and then she slid in. She followed the rope back through all the pulsing layers, fighting the panic when pressed tight between its breaths. What if it didn’t let go? She felt its hunger.

It eased open, and she slid a few more feet before it closed on her again. Was this how it felt for her parents, being held immobilized? She shuddered, moving again when she could, faster and faster until she broke out of the opening.

She came awake in Lachlan’s arms again.

He was studying her. “It didn’t work?”

“I didn’t even try.”

She told him everything, watching the same disbelief she’d felt about Russell’s part in it in his expression.

“You’re not going to Russell,” he said.

“Don’t you see, I have to save her? If that’s all he wants, then you’re safe, too. The only reason he’s been so brutal to you is because you’re in the way of his saving the person he loves. You said you would kill for me. What Russell’s doing isn’t so different.”

He grunted in disagreement. “You’re sure it was your mother? Not some illusion?”

“I’m sure. She’s always called me by a lot of endearments: baby, honey.”

Lachlan walked over to where he’d propped his sword, never far away. He took it in hand and walked down the hallway toward his room. Where was he going?

He returned a few seconds later, no sword. “When I astral-projected back to that day, I saw it from your point of view. I stayed with you. I want to go back and see it from the kitchen. Olaf!”

The image of the Scottish warrior flickered over Lachlan. “Ye’ve exhausted me and ye want me again?”