Dark Touch

by Elle Lewis

  My thoughts turned to the golden warrior. That day in the gardens had shown him to be a formidable soldier. He was certainly strong enough to fight the man with the black eyes. But what was he? Could he be trusted? And if he was protecting me, why haven’t I seen him again? The questions were endless. It made my head throb.

  I felt extremely overwhelmed as I pulled into my long driveway. I cut the engine, cracked the door open and listened for a few moments. The only thing I could hear was the cherry tree shivering in the cold October breeze. The burning pain on my left side thrummed through my veins steadily and my heart, as always, hammered powerfully in my chest. I was beginning to get used to it.

  I walked to the front door and locked it behind me right away. I turned on every light in the house and then got undressed, unlacing my knee-high converse sneakers slowly, in no hurry to go to bed. I was tired—exhausted actually—but terrified of the dream that I knew was waiting. He was waiting.

  Since it was so cold outside, I pulled on a long sleeve grey stretchy night shirt and thick white pajama pants. I crawled beneath my yellow comforter, twisting and turning until it wrapped around me like a burrito. I tried to focus on the fact that I was no longer alone in all of this. James and I had exchanged phone numbers before parting, with a plan to meet up sometime during the week. He promised to do whatever he could to help, which I found surprising considering his history with them. James had seen them kill two people, yet he was still willing to get involved. I thought that said a lot about him as a person. There was more to him than just brave chivalry. Eventually I drifted off to sleep, wondering about his past and the things he had said. I couldn’t help admitting that I was looking forward to seeing him again.

  *

  I sat on the curling steps that wound above the antechamber. The giant black crystal chandelier hung like a gargantuan spider from the ceiling, the small dark crystals glinting. I realized there were no actual lights in the antechamber, it was simply illuminated.

  The hair on the back of my neck suddenly stood up. I turned. The man with black eyes was behind me, looking down at me from the top of the stair case. I got up cautiously and began walking backwards down the stairs, not wanting to take my eyes off him.

  He followed me down the stairs, with deathly grace, his bare feet making no noise as he descended.

  I stopped in the middle of the antechamber. “What do you want with me, Darrow?” As soon as the name escaped my lips, I knew with absolute certainty that it was his.

  A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he came to the bottom of the stair case. He stopped for a moment to unfold his wings and then continued to walk towards me.

  I stayed where I was, shocked. His name had suddenly manifested itself in my mind. And it wasn’t only his name. His age and existence descended upon me. My knees felt weak as I felt his greatness, his power, his immortality. Eons upon eons he had existed. I saw vast stretches of space, infinite blackness, bright stars and massive clouds full of colors that I couldn’t name.

  He now stood inches from me, towering over me. I gazed up into his fathomless black eyes, my body shaking like a small leaf caught in a violent wind.

  Darrow put his hand behind my neck and pulled me closer, until I was pressed against him. I didn’t dare move or struggle. The knowledge of his age and power held me frozen.

  “I want you, beautiful human.” His other hand cupped the side of my face. “They are protecting you so fiercely. But I do not need pomp and ceremony. I do not require confirmation. I already know what lies inside of you.” Darrow bent his head, brushing his lips against the skin of my neck as he spoke. “I am within you and so I can taste it. Such delicious power. It makes my mouth water.” His mouth moved to my jaw. “And to think, I was the one that discovered you, Sloan.”

  I jerked at the sound of my name. Darrow tightened his grip. I gasped involuntarily. The sound made him smile. “I will find a way around your guards very soon, and I strongly suggest that you do not resist me.” He pulled me closer until his lips almost touched mine. “I do not wish to damage you, but I will…and I will enjoy doing it.”

  His wings came forward, curling around us until all light was gone. My vision and mind were flooded with nothingness, as if I had been pulled into a void. There was only his presence, pressing against every inch of me, drowning me in darkness.

  *

  My eyes snapped open to the sound of my alarm clock, the sharp beep repeatedly blaring. I reached over and turned it off. I usually hated the sound of the alarm, but this morning, it was like a symphony pulling me back into consciousness.

  My alarm was set to go off automatically Monday through Friday at 6:30am. I had every reason to call in sick, but the alternative was staying home alone all day. I got out of bed and turned on the shower. A day at the office might provide a much needed distraction. Besides, I could use a little ounce of normalcy.

  As I got ready, I replayed the dream over in my mind. It had been less violent then the last one, but what it lacked in violence it made up for in intensity. I knew his name now. Darrow. It was odd finally having something to call him, other than the man with black eyes. But how had I known that? In the dream, it felt as if it had simply manifested itself in my mind, like a bud blossoming in the center of my brain. The information was suddenly there. And it wasn’t just his name. I had been flooded with information about him, feeling his age and power. I needed some time to digest it. It was certainly intriguing, but it also scared the shit out of me.

  My fingers trembled as I pulled on a light pink long sleeved business shirt, a black pencil skirt, and my favorite pair of Christian Louboutin black leather pumps. I twisted my hair into a professional bun and applied eye makeup, concealer and base. Thankfully, the makeup made the bruise and scratches hard to see. It was Monday, so I made sure I had everything I needed for art class, stuffing a change of clothes in my backpack along with my other supplies. I wasn’t a big breakfast person, so I pulled on a grey wool pea coat and headed out the door.

  The morning was cold and crisp, the sky a pale yellow-blue. I still felt a little shaky as I got into my Jeep. A part of my brain knew that it was silly to try to resume normal life considering what I was going through. But I honestly didn’t know what else to do. I turned on the car and blasted the heat. After a year of living in Washington State I should be used to the cold weather. But I wasn’t, and I missed the hot sunny beaches of California. I halted my train of thought. I could not allow my mind to go back there, not now.

  As I backed out of the driveway, I noticed a figure in my review mirror. I slammed on the breaks, instantly afraid. And then I realized it was just my neighbor, the allusive Mr. Taylor. He was standing next to my mailbox.

  I exhaled loudly, rubbing my temples. “Jesus Christ.”

  I put the jeep back into park as he approached my driver’s side window. He was a short stocky older gentleman in his early fifties with salt and pepper hair and a finely trimmed beard. I had only met him a few times. His cabin style ranch house was tucked far into the mountain.

  I rolled the window down and managed to plaster a neutral expression onto my face. What the fuck did he want?

  “Morning, Sloan.” He looked at me for a moment, his clear blue eyes indecisive.

  “Is there something I can help with, Mr. Taylor?”

  “Did you have an early Halloween party late last night?” he asked. “I normally wouldn’t pry and there wasn’t any disturbing noise, but as I took my early morning walk, I noticed two people up there on your roof.” He pointed to the top of my house.

  A chill went down my spine. “You saw people on my roof?”

  Mr. Taylor nodded. “It’s not safe, especially with all this rain. Roof tiles can become extremely slick.”

 
I tried to keep my face smooth. “What did they look like?”

  “I couldn’t see too well, there was a lot of fog this morning. But they were wearing elaborate costumes. Both had big wings strapped to their backs.” He spread both arms wide, indicating how big the width on the wings had been.

  My stomach did a little dive. “What color were the wings?”

  “Pardon?”

  “The color. Did you notice what color the wings were?”

  Mr. Taylor’s brow furrowed, confused. “It was hard to see clearly with the fog. But do you understand that its dangerous to allow people up on your roof?”

  I nodded, “Yes. I do, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

  “Well now, there’s no need to apologize. I wouldn’t want to see anyone get hurt, that’s all. I’ve been to a few wild parties myself, you know.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Well, thanks. I should get going. Traffic is pretty horrendous this time of morning.”

  “Right, of course. Drive safely. Take care.” He smiled, gave me a little wave, and then headed back towards his cabin.

  I rolled up the window but kept the car in park. Holy shit. I leaned forward, examining my roof. It was empty. Whatever figures Mr. Taylor had seen were no longer there. My body hummed with tension. I didn’t know what to think. Could it have been the golden warrior?

  I put the car in reverse and eased down the driveway. It probably wasn’t a good idea to drive when I was this distracted but if I didn’t get on the highway soon I was going to be late. To counterbalance my frazzled brain, I drove well below the speed limit and looked at least three times before changing lanes. Before long I was pulling into the parking garage of my office building. To my dismay, we had a big meeting in the conference room right at 8:30, and I had forgotten to stop at Starbucks for coffee. Oops.

  Penny glared at me with absolute loathing. I gave her a lame excuse about traffic and settled into a chair, ready to take notes. At least that’s what I pretended to do. What I really did was scribble a bunch of nonsensical words and doodles on a notepad while I thought over the latest dream and what Mr. Taylor had revealed.

  He said there were two people on my roof. I doubted that one of them had been Darrow himself. My gut told me that if Darrow had been anywhere close to my house, he probably would have kicked down the door and come right in. Him simply sitting on the roof all night did not make any sense. I ruled it out. So, then who was it? Darrow had mentioned the word guards before. And last night his exact words had been, they are protecting you. I returned to my earlier thought that it could have been the golden warrior. Was it possible there was more than one?

  My heart did a little gallop. Could I have two badass warriors watching over me? The thought gave me a mingling feeling of hope and fear. I needed help, but I still did not know anything about them or their intentions. The fact that they had been so close to me, all night, was alarming.

  I changed gears and began examining the dream. Damn, what a surreal feeling, the way his name had manifested itself within my thoughts. And his age—his power. All of it had flowed through me, as if his very existence, his essence, had somehow become a part of me. I am within you. I shuttered. A disturbing thought occurred to me. When demons possessed someone, they entered their body and mind, taking over. I rubbed my temples, forcing the imagery from my mind. Now I was just freaking myself out. But, if I suddenly knew detailed information about him, did that mean he also now knew things about me? My face flushed with heat. Yes, it absolutely did. He had used my name. He had said my name. Holy shit, what else did he know about me? How much information did he have access to?

  “Sloan. Sloan!”

  My head snapped up.

  Penny stood in front of a PowerPoint presentation, hands on hips. As usual, she was wearing hideous clothes. Today she was in a drab brown business suit with—oh god—mustard yellow heels?

  Somehow, I managed to get my emotions under control and answer in a steady voice. “Yes, Penny?”

  “I said,” Penny responded testily, “Did you write that down? I need these notes typed up promptly after the meeting, so I can send a summary out to the team.”

  I nodded. “Yup, I got it.” I tapped the notepad with my pen. “All here.”

  “Good.” She attempted to smile but it looked more like a sneer.

  I tried to pay attention after that but coming to work had been a mistake. The entire day was a disaster. I struggled to concentrate. My rapid heartbeat and the fiery pain on my left side were both very distracting. People had to repeat themselves two or three times before I picked up on what they were saying, I mislabeled at least a dozen files, and made lopsided copies of several important documents. And my disturbing thoughts from the meeting kept popping into my head at random moments. I had to keep telling myself—you are not possessed, you are not possessed.

  Penny normally gave me a ton of work to do on Mondays. Despite my lack in people skills, I usually did it well, always efficient and organized. But by late afternoon, Penny had lost all patience with me.

  “What is wrong with you today? It’s like trying to talk to someone on Mars,” She snapped. “Go home. Maybe by tomorrow your spinal cord will have reattached to your brain.”

  I didn’t argue. I left the office and made my way to the parking garage. As soon as I got into my jeep, I took off my heels and tossed them onto the passenger seat. I sat there for a while, not even bothering to turn the car on. My life had become unrecognizable.

  *

  Seattle University was comprised of several tan and grey brick buildings that made up the campus. The different buildings were dedicated to eight schools, each centering on a specific major. My focus was the college of Arts and Sciences, but I knew the University offered much more. They had an engineering program, as well as business and economics, law, education, and nursing. Art was the only class I had wanted to enroll in. I left Los Angeles on the spur of the moment, with no solid plans. It’s not like I moved to Seattle to pursue an education. So, the whole college thing was up in the air. Especially now. A college degree was not on my list of priorities. Surviving whatever was happening to me was. Yeah, staying alive would be good.

  I parked in the student parking lot behind the Art and Sciences building, pulling out my parking pass from the glove compartment and hanging it on my rearview mirror. Class started at six forty-five. Since I was so early, I had plenty of time to change and grab a coffee from the student café. They offered food too, but my appetite was nonexistent.

  I transferred my wallet and cell phone into the front pocket of my backpack, slid my purse under the passenger seat, and locked the Jeep. The sky had been clear for most of the day, but now several clouds were rolling in, blocking the sun. I shivered and stuffed my hands in my pockets as I walked across the parking lot, my heels clicking on the pavement.

  There was a bathroom on the first floor that I usually used to change in. Professor Imperial’s class was on the third floor. His classroom did not have desks. Instead, canvases or sketch pads were set up on easels in a semi-circle around the room. Sometimes he would bring in chairs if we were required to work on a very detailed project for a long length of time, but that was rare. For the most part, everyone spent much of class standing. Which is why I always changed before class. Standing that long in heels? No thank you.

  Normally, I thoroughly enjoyed art class. It was relaxing. My mind emptied, and a feeling of pure calm settled over me as I let my imagination stretch. I loved seeing an idea bloom into something real that held emotion and texture. I sincerely hoped I could find some of that calm today.

  I eased into an empty stall and hung my backpack on the back of the door, unzipping the main pocket. I pulled out a pair of comfy dark gray ballet flats,
blue skinny jeans, and a long sleeved green shirt. As I changed, my thoughts centered on Millie. I felt nervous about seeing her. We hadn’t talked since that awkward conversation in her car on Saturday. I realized now that I probably should have called her to smooth things over. Damn, why hadn’t I called her?

  “Probably because your life has dissolved into a supernatural nightmare,” I said aloud to the empty stall.

  At that moment my cell phone rang, and because I was still putting on my jeans I answered it automatically without looking at the number.

  I wedged it awkwardly against my cheek. “Hello?”

  “Sloan?”

  Heat rushed through my entire body. “Mom?”

  “Oh darling, it’s so good to hear your voice.” Her words were thick and slurred, a Russian accent breaking through.

  “How did you get this number?” I asked icily.

  “I hired someone to…get it”. Her words started breaking up. I could tell she was trying to stay coherent. “When are you coming back? When is my little star coming back?”

  “Don’t call me that, and DON’T call me when you’re fucked up,” I said.

  “What? Darling, no…I’m not…I don’t do that anymore.”

  I gritted my teeth. “Right. What is it this time mom? Pills? Booze? Or both?” I had an awful flashback of multi-colored pills scattered next to tiny mounds of white powder on a mirror in her bathroom, mom passed out on the floor, her beautiful pale blonde hair splayed across the cold tile. Anger flared through me. “Where is dad?”

  “On a business trip…in…New…York.” She said the words slowly and carefully, trying to pronounce everything correctly.

  “Of course.” I wanted to disappear. I wanted to turn into a puddle of nothingness that could seep into the cracks in the floor.