Darkness Rising

by Cate Farren

  “I need to think,” she said. “It’s out there somewhere.”

  “You can find it without me,” said Ziibi. “I’m leaving.”

  She ignored him again, thinking. She didn’t even register the slam of the front door until she heard Ziibi stomping down the pathway.

  I don’t need him. All my shapeshifter allies turned out to be useless anyway.

  She needed to perform another blood magic ritual before the paranoia drove her mad. She had to know. She couldn’t allow another rogue shapeshifter to roam free. It had to be eradicated.

  THE DECEASED SHAPESHIFTER was turning to mush, which their kind always dead after being dead for a few hours. She prodded it, trying to find some magic left inside she could use for the blood magic ritual, but there was none left. She’d have to go back to the pedophile registry if she wanted fresh blood.

  Damn. I don’t have time for this.

  There was always another way. If an innocent person had to die, then so be it. Their death would actually be helping mankind. This abandoned house had neighbors. She’d heard them laughing at the television last night. A young couple, early thirties. Handsome. She’d have to kill both of them. It would be cruel to kill one and not the other. Two bodies full of blood might actually boost the spell.

  “Where are you off to in a hurry?” Wynn asked. He was behind her, watching. “I need to talk. It’s important.”

  “And I need to find a fresh body,” said Toren.

  He barred her way. She crossed her arms, incensed. She was on the verge of attacking him.

  “Where’s Ziibi?” he demanded.

  She shrugged. “He left.” At Wynn’s outraged expression she added, “I don’t care. He’s outlived his usefulness.”

  “I’m leaving too,” Wynn declared.

  The words shocked Toren. She hadn’t expected them. She thought he would stick by her. They’d survived the bombing of the Eiffel Tower together!

  "I need you," she stated.

  "You don't need me,” he said. He looked at her as if he didn’t know her. “All you need is your quest for blood."

  A part of her became angry at him for wasting her time. She should already be next door, performing her blood magic ritual. What was wrong with him? Did he not realize that his pathetic moralizing was allowing Loki to win? You had to act like Loki to catch Loki. She thought that was obvious. It had served her well in the past. Just think of how many shapeshifters would’ve escaped if she hadn’t done what needed to be done, damn how many civilian casualties there were.

  Civilian casualties...just like my mother...

  "I need you to keep me sane, to keep me from going too far.” The stinking body behind her was proof she’d gone too far already. She ignored it. “Please. I don't want to become her again. I'm not sure I could survive it this time."

  "You seemed to enjoy torturing that man far too much."

  No. I can’t kill innocents.

  She nodded. "Yes. I did enjoy it. That's what scares me. I enjoy being her. She wouldn't have let her kingdom get taken from her. She wouldn't have let Loki live for so long, causing who knows what. She gets things done. But she has no remorse. She has no pity. She's evil."

  "She's you."

  "She's not the real me. We all have a dark side. It's just that my dark side is like a different person who takes me over."

  He was angry as he shouted, "She is you!" He shook his head as she reached out for him. “She is you for fuck sake!”

  Toren took a deep breath. It was time for her to be honest with herself.

  "I know,” she said, her voice almost failing her. She felt sick. “I...I know. I fucking know!”

  “Toren...”

  “Admitting it makes me feel like a monster. I am a monster when I’m her." She held back tears, not wanting emotion to take her over. She still had a job to do. Maybe Wynn leaving was the right thing for her in the end? Maybe. “Fuck. I feel like I’m breaking apart. Loki and his shapeshifters bring out the worse in me. They make me so mad. Even now I know it was my father who killed my mother it all still makes me so fucking mad. Everything is a confusing mess! I hate my father and I hate Loki and I have a long lost brother out there somewhere and Caleb is dead and I feel like everything is my job to sort out. Nobody else is doing anything! Dracula is having his little vampire summit where the only thing they’ll talk about is blood supplies and the new Fey king is an immature idiot and Gable Trent is too concerned with his own little town and...Fuck! This is all on me, Wynn. This feels like it’s all on me and the only way to survive is to push the part of myself that cares aside and let her in.” She screamed and used a magic spell to explode what was left of the shapeshifter, which faded into dust. She raged and cried and swung her fists out, furious and angry and sad with herself and the world. “But I don’t want it. I don’t want to be her, not really. Not really.”

  Wynn came forward and took her trembling hands. She could feel the worms in the earth under the house and the roots of the plants reaching for her. An emotional Fey called out to nature for comfort. At the moment all she wanted was her mother. Wynn would make a wonderful second prize.

  "I was never going to leave you,” he said, squeezing her freezing cold hands. “Besides, he was the last one. We've killed them all. There's only me left."

  She hesitated before saying, "I'd never hurt you."

  He caressed her face. She smiled, feeling shy all of a sudden. She was covered in blood and she could still hear the death throes of the shapeshifter in her head but at that moment she felt calm. He made her feel calm.

  "I don't have time for this,” she said. “I have to find Loki."

  Wynn smiled. "I can find him."

  "If you access him with your link then I might lose you. No."

  "That's why I wanted to do this."

  He kissed her on the lips, gently. His skin was like a feather, light but sensuous.

  "I've waited my entire life for a kiss like that.” She laughed, feeling giddy and sensuous. “You sure you're not gay or still in love with your ex?"

  "I've loved before, but there's never been anyone like you."

  "Even when I'm dark?"

  She pushed him violently against the wall.

  "Pick me up and take me to bed upstairs,” she ordered. “Now."

  "Your bossiness is actually quite a turn on."

  He grabbed her by the neck and swung her against the wall, pinning her in place. She grinned and pretended to bite at him.

  "I like to be dominated in the bedroom," he stated.

  "So do I."

  She bit her teeth gently into his neck and then looked up at him. "Then this is going to be interesting."

  Within seconds, the pair were stripped off their clothes but their underwear. Wynn shoved her onto the bed roughly. He stretched his full weight over her and snaked his hand up her shoulder and caressed her neck. Toren moaned as his nimble fingers massaged her skin. He visibly hardened, his erect penis tenting his tight boxer briefs.

  “You keep me grounded,” she said, surprising herself with her honesty.

  He kissed her, taking the time to taste her lips.

  “But not too grounded,” she admitted.

  Why did we take so long to do this?

  He stroked her breasts through her bra, moving his hands down slowly, teasingly, and he pressed her butt cheeks through her panties. She gasped, sending pleasure through her entire body. She leaned up and kissed his muscled chest and as she licked around, snaking her tongue around the tiny brown hairs around his nipples, he shuddered. Wynn bit her breasts and she screamed with pleasure.

  He moved his lips upwards, kissing her bare shoulders and her chin. She felt a shudder run through her as he nuzzled her neck. He claimed her swollen lips and as he did that, he palmed her breasts. His lips still on hers, he moved his hand down and towards her legs.

  He went lower and held her legs apart. He started thrusting rhythmically, his motions becoming gradually faster and faster. She held
on to his shoulders, digging her nails in like she was holding on for dear life. She kept moaning and he felt her build up. The princess hooked her legs around his hips and moved along with him, matching his intensity.

  The very earth beneath her was singing out, joining in, multiplying her pleasure. She took energy from the plants in the house and from the surrounding garden, fueling her desire. Toren clawed at him, her eyes glowing green, as his penis expanded, filling her up.

  That’s the beauty of making love to a shapeshifter. They can make things grow to sizes that would make a woman weep.

  “Fuck!” she screamed.

  Another hand gripped her buttocks, making three now. Wynn kept pounding away, but she wanted more. She needed more.

  “More!” she growled. “More!”

  Wynn grinned and she felt herself stretched tighter as another penis entered her. She dug her nails into his back tighter, making him bleed. Rivulets of blood poured down onto his back onto the sheets as she continued to double penetrate her. The feeling was exquisite, something she had never experienced before. She was surprised every plant in Little Chipping wasn’t cheering her on.

  She bit her tongue, drawing blood, as Wynn thrust into her over and over again. He started sucking her breasts, and she clung to his hair. They both shuddered together as they felt the orgasm. They came down together and in a matter of a few minutes, Wynn began thrusting into her again and she bit into his shoulder to muffle her cries.

  They had a long and sweaty night ahead.

  “THERE’S SOMETHING I have to confess.”

  She was staring out of the window, looking out over the garden. The grass had grown five inches during their lovemaking, and all the flowers had come out in bloom. Toren had never had such an affect on nature before. How had she been alive for thousands of years and never had sex like that before? She felt truly alive, even as the Black Fey part of her yearned for more blood and carnage.

  Wynn turned to look at her, his lithe body wrapped in the bed sheets. The bruises on and finger nail wounds his skin were already fading, healing quickly. He appeared bright, alert and shining with satisfaction.

  “I have this feeling there’s another shapeshifter out there,” she said, climbing back into bed. His warmth soothed her. “I don’t know for certain, but my heart is telling me I’m not paranoid. I know.”

  He leaned forward and kissed her on the nose. “Then let’s find them.”

  She didn’t dare reveal what she’d been planning to do with the people next door. He was in such a relaxed mood and she didn’t want him to spoil what they had. She hadn’t felt this way about a person in a very long time, if ever. How could she ruin things now? How could she crush what they had when they were so close to ending their mission?

  Do we have time to go hunting for pedophiles?

  She sighed and kissed Wynn. She’d make time, for him.

  THE PEDOPHILE SCREAMED as his skull seemed to collapse in on itself. The blood magic surged and flowed around him, feeding Toren, giving her insight and power. She laughed as it fed her. She consumed it, pushing it out to search for what she wanted. When she found it she was shocked at the answer it gave her.

  The answer was vague for some reason, probably due to the amount of magic in the target area, but it was clear enough. There was a shapeshifter in Chapel Green, hiding in plain sight.

  Chapter 19

  Jared yawned, feeling his jaw crack. He sat up. For a brief second he wondered where he was. His mind was a blank. He tasted blood and sex in his mouth and he felt so desolate and lonely he wanted to tear something apart with his bare hands.

  "Morning," Kyra whispered.

  He sighed. He wished this was a dream, but it was real.

  For the last year Jared had lived on nothing but sex and blood. He'd ignored his son and mother and concentrated solely on his own carnal desires. It was what got him through the day. If he thought about his situation too much he knew he'd want to die, and that was impossible. He was the grandson of Dracula. He could die, but he would always come back. Always.

  "You were having nightmares again," Kyle said dreamily beside him. He tweaked Jared’s left nipple and giggled. “Or you were having sexy dream about me.”

  He ignored Kyle. The man was a distraction, nothing more. Kyra was on his other side, smiling up at him dreamily. They both stared at him like he was the light of their lives. Jared was fairly sure the twins were a little bit infatuated with him. He hated them. They were nothing.

  "I don't think I've had a decent night's sleep since my resurrection," Jared admitted. He rubbed his hair, long and straggly and unkempt. He'd grown a beard, which itched constantly. Shaving was an irritation he didn’t need. "I need a drink."

  Jared thought about his unquenchable thirst as Kyle's lips enveloped his penis. Kyra climbed on him, straddling him, thrusting herself close to his mouth. He wasn't really in the mood but he complied anyway, tasting her, making her moan. When he came he had a sudden revelation.

  I want to die.

  He pushed Kyra away. She fell off the bed and onto the floor with a loud thump.

  "Hey!" she cried, stunned. "What..."

  "Get the hell out of here," he ordered.

  Kyle stared at him, unable to talk with his mouth full.

  "Both of you!" Jared shouted. The naked twins stared at him like two puppies being forced out into the snow. "Get out!"

  They begrudgingly left, oblivious to the fact that they left their clothing behind. Jared locked the door after them.

  He pulled a wooden stake out from under his mattress, thought of Clover’s bright smile and tempestuous spirit, and impaled himself in the heart.

  JARED OPENED HIS EYES to find Sarah glaring disapprovingly at him. She reminded him of a prim teacher he'd once had.

  Death is not the end, the malevolent voices whispered.

  "You killed yourself," she stated.

  He couldn't help but laugh. "And you brought me back."

  "I didn't do anything. You can cut off your own head or throw yourself into a volcano and you'll still come back. Don't you get it? You can't die. Ever."

  She slapped him across the face and left him to his misery. There was another wooden stake by his bed. Sarah must have left it on purpose.

  He staked himself with it.

  THE LIGHT AT THE END of the tunnel beckoned him from the darkness. The voices were a chorus, urging, threatening, calm one minute and angry and insane the next. He didn’t know what to do.

  Should I go to the light?

  Jared knew if he ventured into the light something bad would happen to him. If he hadn’t died before he wouldn’t know this, or maybe it was because of his supernatural side, but he knew he couldn’t go into the light. There was something bad there. Something evil. To go into the light was the end.

  “Clover is waiting for you.”

  “She wants to be with you. You can be with her forever.”

  “Heaven is only a step away.

  This is what he wanted, to die and be with Clover, yet something always held him back. Why would the voices cajole and taunt him? Surely the light was some sort of Heaven or afterlife, a place of peace and love? Why would the light feel evil?

  “Why do you hesitate?”

  “Do you not love Clover?”

  “She loves you. She’s waited for you for a long time. Don’t give up on her.”

  “Maybe you never loved her.”

  “Maybe you’d rather be with those agile twins than with a woman who you truly love.”

  Jared ignored them as he felt a tugging from behind him. He was going back to the land of the living whether he wanted to or not. How long had he been dead this time? Who was waiting for him?

  “You can join her if you try hard enough!”

  “You can be with Clover!”

  “Reach! Reach!”

  HIS MOTHER GREETED him as he opened his eyes. She looked about as pleased to see him as Sarah had. He didn’t care.

  No. She
looks disappointed.

  "Are you enjoying your forays into death?" Jane demanded.

  You are becoming a nuisance, the voices said. Always slipping away from us.

  "How long was I gone?" he asked, as the angry voices faded away. He breathed a sigh of relief as they left. “Mom? Talk to me.”

  She looked away, barely holding back her contempt. "This time you were gone ten years. The time before it was about fifty."

  "Time flies when you're dead," he responded.

  He turned around in his bed to face the wall. He needed solitude. If he couldn’t die, then he’d rather be alone.

  “I’m not leaving until you talk to me,” his mother stated.

  “Then you’ll be sitting there for an awful long time,” he told her.

  HIS MOTHER BROUGHT him blood periodically, just enough to sustain him. He stayed in bed, feeling himself wither. His memories cemented themselves in his mind, forever looping, taunting him. Clover’s Mom staked him over and over again and he felt like he would snap. His beard grew out even further, as did his hair. His nails looked like talons. He started to smell like roasting garbage. He didn't talk. He didn't even acknowledge his mother's existence. Still she never abandoned him, not like he'd abandoned himself.

  On the hundredth day of his self imposed misery he heard something tap-tapping at the window. He ignored it. It was probably a bird or something. The avian creatures were plentiful on this world, a menace even. Some of the wilder species often tried to fly off with idiotic humans in their talons, like they were living the race memories of their dinosaur ancestors.

  The tapping came again, this time with more urgency. He heard the window crack.

  He sat up. His own stench overpowered him, as did the musty smell in his small box room. His hair was over his eyes so he pulled it back and tied it into a douchbag man bun. He hadn't realized it was that long.

  He went up to the dirty window. There was a smell pebble imbedded in it. Cracks spidered from the impact zone like ripples.