The Darkness of Sable

by Faith Bicknell

  Relieved, she took her purse and set it next to her. “Thank you.”

  He nodded to Thomas, his gaze skeptical. “I’ll be out of your way in a few minutes. I just need a quick statement about what happened.”

  “Certainly.” Thomas moved over and stood with his back to a supply cabinet, an annoyed expression on his face.

  The cop pulled out a small electronic tablet. “Now, tell me everything that happened.”

  Slowly, Sable told her story, her focus on Officer Delmont’s face. As she let her gaze wander over his strong jaw, full lips, and brilliant tawny eyes, she marveled at the attraction she felt to him.

  He asked a few questions about Cheyenne’s disappearance and inputted a couple of things.

  She contemplated mentioning the man who had frightened her in the garden in hopes that Officer Delmont might be able to help her, but dismissed the notion. The officer would only ask why she hadn’t reported it right away, and without a security camera’s tape showing the man as he’d grabbed her and pinned her against the wall, she was still left with no proof it had ever happened.

  He handed her a ticket for jaywalking. “You’re a lucky woman,” he said.

  Something squeaked under the gurney, startling Sable. She shot a glance at Thomas, who raised one brow in question. “Lucky?” she echoed, looking down at the slip of paper.

  “None of the motorists who were involved in the near pile-up wanted to file any complaints or charges, so you’re only getting a ticket for jaywalking at this time.”

  More squeaks erupted from under her seat, followed by the ticking of…claws on the tile?

  She swallowed hard. Don’t they hear it, too? Thomas stared back at her, irritation on his face. What’s his problem?

  A louder, more abrupt squeak reached her ears. Unease slithered along her skin, her arms pebbling. The noise changed, and what sounded like a hatchling chirping for food flowed out from beneath the gurney. Was it possible a bird had flown through the ER doors while they were open? Perhaps it was frightened and had hidden under the portable bed.

  The sound grew louder. No, not squeaks or chirps, but laughter!

  She glanced down between her dangling feet. There, a bird-like creature crawled across the floor, its body covered in glistening inky feathers, but instead of wings, it possessed thin, ropey arms that ended in small talons.

  Swallowing her gasp of fear, she regarded Thomas, willing him to return her gaze or notice the weird sounds. He glowered at the curtain, his thoughts apparently far away.

  What if the beast clawed her feet, or worse, bit her?

  “Do you have a number where I can reach you should something come up linked to today?” Officer Delmont’s voice penetrated her fear.

  “Uh…my cell phone.” She mumbled the number, her heart tapping out a crazy beat. Didn’t he see it? After the bizarre occurrences last night in her suite and again in the salon, maybe she was losing her mind. Coldness swept over her skin. The sensation left her panting for breath and feeling faint.

  Officer Delmont tapped away with his index and middle finger, then slipped the tablet into the biggest uniform pocket, and stepped to her side. In doing so, he kicked the creature in the ribs. It flew across the floor and crashed into a wheeled stool parked against the back wall. The creature issued a furious squawk. Annoying, squeaky laughter bubbled out of it as it regarded the cop with hatred. In a burst of gray-black sparks, it disappeared.

  Officer Delmont’s attention slid to Thomas. “Sir, I’ll be leaving now. My apologies for the interruption.”

  Thomas glanced over at him and offered a tight smile. “No problem.”

  She snapped her mouth shut and gulped. After a moment of internal struggle, Sable managed to become semi calm. Had the little monster actually vanished in a shower of dark sparkles?

  The officer held out his hand, and she placed hers into it. Electricity zipped up her arm. His gold gaze bored into hers. “Take care of yourself, Sable. You never know what might happen in life, so don’t go looking for trouble.”

  “I won’t.”

  Maybe he hadn’t noticed the creature after all. Thomas certainly hadn’t, even when it had crashed into the stool next to him.

  The doctor entered Sable’s curtained room and nodded a greeting. “Let’s get you cleaned up and put some antiseptic on those nasty scrapes.”

  “She’s all yours, Doc,” the officer said. With that, he stepped around the curtain, his heels echoing sharply on the tile as he left the ER.

  Sable listened abstractly while the doctor chattered. She answered each of his questions, her attention jumping to Thomas every couple of minutes. He focused on the curtain, the ceiling, the floor—anything but her.

  The doctor asked about pain and discomfort, checked Sable’s reflexes, and performed a cursory examination of her body, but the entire time, Sable strained to hear unusual noises beneath the gurney, her gaze flitting to every place where something might hide.

  Chapter Seven

  Golds

  T he chauffeur drove Sable and Thomas back to the hotel. They sat quietly as the ocean whooshed by on one side and buildings on the other. The sun settled into the water for its nightly bath, bleeding variegated hues of gold across the ocean and sky. The bright colors reminded her of Officer Delmont’s eyes.

  Every few minutes she’d glance over at Thomas, who stared stoically out the window, his palms flat against his thighs, fingers biting into the muscles.

  He’s really pissed, but why?

  With a troubled sigh, she returned her attention to the spectacular sunset. Thoughts of the day’s uncanny events and Cheyenne’s unexpected appearance plagued her mind. The limo pulled up on the carport. The chauffeur opened the passenger door, and Sable slid out with Thomas right behind her. At the hotel’s entrance, by a large pot of tropical flowers, the shaggy, black dog from the beach park sat on its haunches regarding her with interest.

  She paused. Was it the same animal?

  “Do you see that dog?” she asked Thomas.

  He shot her a look, his face stoic, eyes hard. “What dog?”

  About to point at it, she dropped her hand. “Right…”

  The animal was gone. Had she seen it, or was it her imagination?

  A tickle of unease scampered up her back. She shook her head. “Never mind.”

  Minutes later, back in her suite, Sable poured a glass of brandy. Tension had crept up her spine and into her neck, a vine of pain and irritation she hoped to uproot before it slipped its tendrils into her brain. “After the day I’ve had, I need a drink,” she said over her shoulder to Thomas. “Would you want a glass of brandy, too?”

  The door to his suite slammed.

  She whirled and gawped at the door. “What the hell?”

  Faintly, strains of hip-hop music, which Thomas played only when he was upset, penetrated the suite. Should she knock and ask what was wrong, if she’d done something to anger him? Sable stood eyeing the door for several minutes. His behavior didn’t make any sense. They had always been straightforward and honest with one another on everything.

  No, let him cool off. Whatever had pissed him off, he’d either tell her, and they would straighten it out, or he’d come to terms with it and let it drop.

  A quick phone call to The Elegant Curl resulted in Lucretia agreeing to bring her beautician tools to her suite to repair Sable’s hair and makeup.

  Half an hour later, she relaxed on the sofa, the last shreds of the threatening head-banger dissolving. Thomas hadn’t returned. She glowered at his suite. Subdued hip-hop music still permeated her room. The man’s temper was slow to flare, but when it did, it flashed like a struck match and winked out. Whatever had upset him this time must be serious.

  With her mind made up, she swung her legs off the sofa and strode to Thomas’s suite.

  “Thomas?” She rapped hard on the door so he’d hear her over the music.

  Silence.

  She tried the knob and found it unlocked. Openi
ng it, she said his name louder. “Thomas?”

  “Yes?”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  She pushed the door wide and stepped into his suite, which was identical to hers save for the color scheme of white, gray, and black. Sable spotted him sitting at the desk.

  “Are you angry with me?”

  He didn’t turn around. His fingers flew over the keys of a laptop. “I have too many emails to catch up on as it is without having the afternoon wasted.”

  Shock pierced her, leaving a bitter taste on her tongue. “I wasted your afternoon? I’m sorry.”

  He paused and half turned toward her. Drawing in a deep breath, he held it for a moment and slowly let it out again. “I didn’t mean it the way it sounded, Sable.”

  She faced the door, her hand on the knob. “I know what you meant. My stupid stunt this afternoon interrupted your routine, and now you’re behind on work. I’ll just go back to my suite and wait for the hairdresser to arrive. I need to call Hal to tell him about Cheyenne anyway.”

  “Sable?”

  She hesitated, hurt burning in her heart, but didn’t look at him.

  “I’ll meet you in your suite at eight.”

  She didn’t acknowledge his statement but shut the door behind her. She wasn’t sure why or how she’d alienated Thomas.

  Well, she couldn’t dwell on that right now. She needed to telephone Hal and tell him Cheyenne was alive, right here in Naples, Florida.

  The phone rang five times. Finally, Jacquelyn answered.

  “Jacquelyn, this is Sable. Is Hal home?”

  “Why?”

  Sable blinked. “I need to talk to him.”

  A sigh wafted over the line. “Dammit…” Hostility lurked in that one word. “I know you may have lingering feelings for Hal, but you have to accept the fact that—”

  “Would you please just put him on the phone!”

  Jacquelyn’s stunned silence urged a smile to tweak Sable’s lips. She hadn’t meant to be so abrupt and forceful, but she didn’t have time for the games new wives played.

  The woman sighed again. This time resignation and irritation laced the sound. “Just a second.”

  Heels tapping on hardwood filled the line, and Sable envisioned Jacquelyn crossing the library.

  “He’s in the living room,” the woman stated.

  A shuffle followed, and a soft, distorted conversation followed. The words “It’s your ex” and “Says it’s important” were the only phrases Sable caught.

  “Sable?” Hal’s voice shot across the phone line.

  “Hal!” Elation whizzed into Sable’s heart. “You’ll never believe what happened today.”

  “Sable, you can’t keep calling like this.”

  “Hal, please. Just listen to me!”

  “I’m tired of you calling. Why can’t you just realize it’s over?”

  Frustrated, Sable tried another tactic. “Something amazing happened—”

  “Enough, Sable! I can’t do this anymore. You upset Jacquelyn whenever you call.”

  “I upset Jacquelyn?” Anger roared through Sable. “What the hell do you mean ‘whenever I call?’ I didn’t even know you remarried until last night when Jacquelyn answered the damn phone!”

  In the background, Jacquelyn said something, but Sable couldn’t make out what it was. A distorted fuzziness, as if Hal had placed the receiver flat against his palm or chest, crackled across the miles. Hal said something that sounded garbled, but then he must have moved because the reception cleared. In the background, either an item was thrown against something or a door banged shut, but the sound nearly blew Sable’s ear off. Secretly, she hoped Jacquelyn had thrown something at her new husband.

  “Look, Sable,” Hal said into the phone. “It’s not just Jacquelyn. I can’t do this anymore either. What do I have to do to close the door on our chapter, huh? What?”

  “You self-righteous bastard,” Sable said so quietly she wondered if he’d even heard her.

  She swallowed. A battle raged within her. How could she have loved this man for so long and not seen what an ass he was? All those years of her life, her love, wasted.

  “What I’m trying to tell you,” she began, “has nothing to do with you, me, or us.”

  The laugh that crossed the miles reeked of sarcasm and disdain. “Okay, fine. This should be good. Lay it on me, Sable.”

  “I saw Cheyenne today.”

  Silence prevailed. She held the phone out and stared at it briefly, wondering if he’d hung up and she’d failed to hear the click. The man was never at a loss for words.

  Putting the receiver back to her ear, she said, “Hal? Did you hear me?”

  “I’m here.”

  Everything spilled out of Sable save for the part about her running into traffic. “She’s alive, Hal. I was so shocked that I thought I was imagining things, but Cheyenne is right here in Naples. I’m attending an art show tonight for The Golden. She only invites the wealthy and prestigious, so I thought I’d put out some feelers about our daughter—”

  “Sable, you’ve reached an all-time low,” said Hal, his tone clipped, cold. “I can’t believe you called me with such a ridiculous story. Our marriage is over, so stop grasping at straws.”

  Click.

  Furious and deeply wounded, Sable shouted, “Hal? Hal!”

  He thought she’d concocted the story in a vain attempt to win him back. How could he be so stupid? So arrogant? She slapped the receiver down and leaned against the table, her mind spinning. At that moment, she hated Hal more than she ever had.

  Fine. She’d search for Cheyenne without his help. Then, when she brought her home, proved to him that their daughter was alive, that she hadn’t been lying, he’d look and feel like the asshole he truly was.

  Sable gulped down tears. She’d somehow alienated Thomas, Hal just turned his back on their daughter for good, and his new wife was undoubtedly sipping a glass of champagne while she gloated over her victory. Both Sable’s parents were dead, so she couldn’t even call her mother and discuss it until she felt better, nor would she hear her father shout his advice in the background, drowning out her mother’s sage words.

  Loneliness unlike any she’d ever experienced assailed Sable. It attacked her with such force she staggered and sank onto the desk chair, head in hands, hair spilling around her face. She cried softly, her heart dissolving into remorse.

  Half an hour later, Sable made her way to the bathroom with her tears cried out, her emotions drained. She pinned her hair up, bathed, and slipped into a fresh robe. Outside Thomas’s door, she listened. Quiet reigned. Either he’d stepped out, was napping, or he’d calmed down enough that he no longer needed the music as an outlet.

  If she had no one to support her, then she’d have to support herself. She’d find Cheyenne without anyone’s help. Now that she had hope of reuniting with her daughter, a bit of her muse returned. Embryonic ideas stirred in her brain.

  Someone knocked on the door. Sable looked at the clock. Lucretia. And right on time.

  Tonight, she’d wear the new gold gown she’d purchased before leaving New York City, and wow everyone who laid eyes on her. With resolve, she answered the door.

  Thomas stood at his suite door with it barely cracked open. He listened as Sable spoke with Hal. Her ex-husband was one of the biggest jerks he’d ever met. The guy should be crowned as King Asshole. Hal’s lack of interest in finding his only child and the fact he believed Sable still loved him proved how much foul wind he blew.

  However, he could deal with Hal’s stupidity and the irritation he caused, but Officer Delmont was a new dilemma he wasn’t sure how to handle. The Judges sent that Paranorm to help him protect Sable? Inwardly, he groaned. The only thing the cop was interested in was getting into Sable’s panties. Every word the Paranorm uttered had a sexual nuance, as did each glance gave her.

  Thomas gently shut the door and stalked over to the dresser. He disrobed, turned off the music,
strode into the bathroom, and started a hot shower. Stepping into it, he closed the glass door and grabbed a cloth and some shower gel.

  What sort of ancient magic could want Sable so desperately? Many humans with unique powers worked with the Old World, so why wasn’t this sinister entity, or whatever it was, going after the others, too? A horrifying thought struck him. Perhaps this force wanted her dead. Was that why the Judges were beefing up Sable’s security?

  Fear slithered over him, and he paused in soaping up his chest. What if he couldn’t protect her like he thought could?

  Perhaps if he knew exactly what Sable’s magical gift was, he would be better equipped to guard her. Until recently, he hadn’t thought much about what her power could be, nor had he seen her do anything out of the ordinary except for creating spectacular sculptures.

  Regardless, Thomas didn’t feel the need for a Paranorm hanging about on the pretense of guarding Sable, especially one who looked at her as if he could jump her bones at any second. Anger rolled through him. If that Paranorm even touched her, he’d rip his arm off and feed it to him for lunch.

  Other than Sable’s nightmares, Thomas wasn’t convinced the danger had escalated. He needed proof the extra guard was necessary, and if so, why.

  With his mind made up to contact the Old World Administration, Thomas rinsed and then shut off the shower. He wrapped a towel around his hips and stepped out onto the bath mat.

  “Valimar.”

  He froze, his gaze snapping up to meet the brilliant-blue eyes taking shape in the bathroom steam. Slowly, a vaporous form turned into a lithe, ethereal female who stood naked by the sink. The Asrai smiled at him, her expression seductive, gaze enticing.

  “What are you doing here?” Thomas asked.

  She sauntered toward him, her slight hips swaying, small breasts pert. Her pale hair flowed around her shoulders and glistened with the steam’s moisture.

  “The Judges sent me,” she replied, her voice nothing more than a whisper. “They have determined that there will be an attempt to take Sable’s life tonight at The Golden’s gala.”