The Darkness of Sable

by Faith Bicknell

  “Don’t,” she said, her throat tight.

  He put some distance between them and sighed. “I am so sorry, baby girl.” Sincerity brimmed in his words. “Try to see it from my side. It’s my job to protect you, and I have orders to follow. One of those orders was to remain silent about Cheyenne. If you got too close to her, the Judges felt the danger you’re in would increase.”

  “Funny, I just got to see my daughter, so the danger can’t be too bad.”

  “The Judges changed their minds. They decided that if you saw her, witnessing what Cheyenne had become, then you’d pull back and drop the issue. If the power chasing you had infiltrated the vampire den, the vamps would have dealt with it long enough that you could have slipped away.”

  Locked in a cell with nowhere to go and no way to blow off steam, Sable balled her fists and conveyed her hurt and hostility through her eyes. “Although I’m now aware there’s…what do you call them? Paranorms? Do you have any idea how difficult it is to process all this information?”

  “Yes, I can—”

  “And to know you, the one person I trust most in this world, has lied to me from day one!” She looked away and stared at the dirt floor and wrestled with the urge to either slap Thomas or walk over and kick Hal. “What is this so-called magical entity that wants me—and why?”

  “We’re not sure about anything,” Thomas answered softly. “The Judges haven’t even been able to determine who or what is after you, and they have no idea yet what your power or powers might be either.”

  “How lovely,” she snarled. “I’m chased by monsters, yet no one but the monsters knows why. This just gets better and better.”

  A groan drew Sable’s attention.

  Hal rolled over, grasped his head, and sat up. “What the hell happened?” he asked.

  Thankful for a distraction from her emotions and thoughts, Sable replied, “You opened your big mouth, Hal, that’s what.”

  “I…?” His eyes widened. “Oh, shit.”

  “Yeah, I’d say that pretty much sums up the situation,” Thomas snapped.

  Tickling assailed Sable’s nostrils. She sneezed. Her gaze wandered the ceiling, the floor, and the walls. The only part of the cell that wasn’t dirt, clay, or rock was the door. “I don’t see any way out of here unless we dig, and we have no idea how far down we are.” She sneezed three more times. “And the dust down here is wreaking havoc on my nose.”

  “Looks like we just sit tight for a while.” Thomas stepped over to the cell door. He pressed his face between two of the bars, turning his head slightly to the right then the left. “I can see only a few feet in either direction.”

  “There has to be a way out of here,” Hal said. He stood and swayed back and forth for a moment. He seemed to get a handle on his equilibrium and dusted off his slacks and suit jacket. “Maybe we can dig around the door.” Hal pulled on the bars and ran his hands down the packed dirt, his movements frantic.

  What had Sable seen in him all those years ago, and what had happened to Hal during their marriage to change him? Now, it all seemed like a dream that faded more and more as time passed. Cheyenne’s childhood appeared to be bleeding out from her mind, and now that she was a Glaistig, the daughter she’d raised and loved was gone, too.

  Even her trust in Thomas and who she’d believed him to be had vanished like smoke on a blustery day. Her life and past had withered and crumbled, and she hadn’t even known it until now.

  “What are you doing?” Thomas asked.

  “I’m going to dig into the wall. The bars can’t reach too far in either direction,” Hal grumped, his tone implying that Thomas was stupid and that Hal was nearing the point of hysteria. “They have to stop somewhere.”

  “And what are you going to do if you do manage to dig through to the passageway?” Thomas pressed. “Do you know how to get back to the first chamber? And if you do, how do we avoid the vampires?”

  Hal clawed at the wall. “Fuck you, man. At least I’m trying to figure a way out.” Dirt and gravel fell to the floor. He paused and shot Thomas an icy look. “We’re just sitting ducks in here—three blood Snack Packs for any one of those things that decides they’re hungry.”

  Leave it to Hal to voice what should be left unsaid. Sable sighed, her nerves shot to Hell. The situation was just too much for her weary brain to handle. She sat cross-legged and swept dirt into a pile in front of her, the men’s conversation only partially penetrating her ears.

  “Do you have a plan should you run into one of those guards?” Thomas snarked.

  “No…but I’ll deal with it when….”

  Sable formed the dirt into a mound twelve inches long as she pondered the events that had occurred since she’d arrived in Naples. Her life as she knew it was gone. Her family had fallen apart, her parents were dead, and her muse produced twisted creatures that she sculpted into millions of dollars.

  “Sable.”

  Thomas was a stranger to her now, his life and agency just a façade. And Hal acted as if he wanted her back, but in the next moment, he’d insist she was the one who missed and desired him. She wanted no part of Hal.

  And what about Thomas? Could he truly love her after lying to her for six years?

  “Sable.”

  Thinking back over her marriage with Hal left her feeling empty. The only part that remained from their life together was Cheyenne, and even she was twisted into something impossible for her to wrap her mind around.

  Could she get her daughter back? Was there a way to return her to her human form?

  “Sable!”

  She jerked, dropping the dirt clenched in her hand, and looked up at Thomas.

  “Where were you?” he asked.

  “I…I was just…thinking.”

  He pointed at the floor. She turned her head in the same direction. The pile of dirt she’d been toying with resembled a man sleeping on his side. Nearby, Hal lay on his side against the wall, one arm propping his head, eyes closed, soft snores escaping him.

  Shocked, Thomas asked, “How did you do that?” He knelt next to her, his gaze moving back and forth from the dirt sculpture to Hal. “What’s going on, Sable?”

  “I don’t know,” she whispered. Gooseflesh stomped across her skin. She gulped and gazed over at her ex-husband.

  Images of the little black monsters rose in her mind. She saw the creatures that had frightened her the first night in their hotel, the ones in her dream, their eyes, their claws, teeth, and feral grins. She remembered the one on her lap at the beauty salon only to find her wet hair piled there instead. Another had been in the emergency room, one at the gallery, one in the limousine, yet another in the storage basement, and one had tried to kill her in the restaurant’s powder room and again by leading her out on the ledge.

  Each one was…no, it couldn’t be. Her mind battled with the images, rejected the truth a leviathan of revelation that grew to incredible proportions.

  Her sculptures. Each monster resembled one of her sculptures in her last line. Her art had transformed into…what? The things that are trying to kill me, that’s what. But why?

  “I just realized something,” she said, her voice still a whisper. “But it’s crazy.” She stared at the earthen artwork.

  Thomas sat next to her and took one of her hands into his. “What is it? Tell me.”

  She let him hold her hand, drew comfort from it. She met his gaze.

  He smiled at her, his expression apologetic. “Please, tell me.”

  “The monsters are my sculptures,” Sable blurted, her heart hammering painfully. “Or at least they’re using my sculptures.”

  Thomas blinked, his expression almost comical.

  “Well, not the actual sculptures,” she said, “but the artwork represents my muse. Each one I’ve created has become real.” She pointed at the dirt sculpture. “That’s why an ancient force is after me.”

  “But how could these creatures use your kind of magic to benefit them?” he said.

 
She shook her head.

  “At least we know what your power is now.” His eyes widened. “But the next step is figuring out why the entities want it.”

  Sable studied him glumly. “If they don’t kill me first.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Knowledge

  T ime passed, but Sable had no idea how much. Although she’d fallen asleep a couple of feet away from Thomas, she awoke several hours later, her head on his chest, his right arm around her shoulders. Her left arm lay beneath her, but she couldn’t feel it. Sitting up, Sable tried to lift her arm. It flopped back to her side. Tingles immediately stabbed her fingertips and raced up into her shoulder.

  She studied Thomas’s face for a moment. He was such a handsome man. His spider-web-patterned beard, the sparkling gems in his earlobes, and his cornrows all heightened the beautiful planes of his face. Whenever he smiled at her, his ebony eyes glittered brightly and pierced her heart with desire and happiness.

  How is it possible to be so furious with someone and yet love them so much?

  She grimaced and massaged her numb arm with her other hand, looking around.

  On the floor, just inside the door, lay a stack of dog-eared books, and next to them, a pizza box and three bottles of soda.

  Her stomach rumbled.

  She rose and knee-walked to the box. Warmth filtered through the cardboard. It couldn’t have been left there that long ago. Perhaps it was the screech of the door that had roused her.

  Flipping the top back, Sable found a pizza with extra cheese and pepperoni. She opened a bottle of pop. The pressure released with a loud pursshhtt! Biting into a slice of pizza, she groaned, chewing rapidly. She reached for a book but faltered, a disturbing thought hitting her. What if the food is tainted? What if…? No, if that were the case, why bother to feed them? It would be simpler to just drain them of blood and leave their bodies to rot in the catacombs. She ripped off another piece of pizza, the cheese sticking to her chin, and licked sauce from her fingers.

  Sable eyed the stack of reading material. Slips of paper marked various pages. Had Emerald paged through and marked the books then left food here for them, too?

  She ran her hand over the volume on her lap as she balanced half a slice of pizza with the other. She frowned, recognizing the hardback. Faeries by Brian Froud. She fingered the book open at the marker. A picture of a Glaistig in a flowing green dress covered the page. Sable read the info, her stomach clenching. The pizza bobbed around in her belly. Closing the volume, she tossed it aside.

  Thomas issued a sigh. Sable looked over at him. He patted the place where she’d been. He raised his head, blinking sleepily, and a frown furrowed his smooth brow. His gaze landed on the empty spot next to him. He turned his head and saw her.

  “Baby girl?” His deep voice warmed Sable, prompting a reluctant smile from her. “What are you doing?”

  She pointed at the pizza box and the soda. “Come eat.”

  “Where did the books come from?”

  “They were here with the food.”

  “And?”

  “I’ve opened just the one, but it seems someone wants me to learn about the Glais.”

  He stood and stretched, his bones popping in protest. “Oh, hell no,” he said. “I’ll turn into an old man if I have to sleep on a dirt floor much longer.”

  She hid her smile.

  “What about Hal?” he asked.

  “Why ruin a good thing?” she replied. “As long as he sleeps, he’s fine. We’ll leave him some pizza in case he wakes up.”

  Thomas snorted in amusement. “You’re the one who made him fall asleep. How long do you think he’ll stay that way?”

  She shrugged and picked up another book. “I have no clue.”

  “What’s that one?” he asked.

  She flipped the cover shut and read, “The Illustrated Encyclopedia of Fairies by Anna Franklin.”

  He scooped a slice from the box and sat opposite of her. “I wonder why Emerald—and I’m assuming it’s her—wants you to read up on the Fae?”

  She sneezed and then sniffed. “Who the hell knows? Nothing makes sense anymore.”

  Sable read an entry and set the book aside to grab another one. Two more books and another slice of pizza later, Thomas’s voice finally captured her attention.

  She glanced up from an old, tattered volume. “What did you say?”

  “I asked you what the marked pages are about.”

  “The markers are pages about the Glais. They’re a perverse type of vampire that’s also a faerie.”

  He coughed and wiped his mouth. “Dangerous is more like it.”

  Sable handed him the book. As he read the page, she took another wedge of pizza. Minutes later, he closed the volume and placed it on the discarded pile. “Sable, you can’t take what these books say as all fact. Some parts are pure shit, some are on spot, and yet all these books omit very important things about the Fae that humans have no knowledge of.”

  His comment rankled her. “I may be naïve when it comes to the Paranorm worlds, but I’ve seen enough of it so far that I’ll certainly not take anything for granted.”

  He peeled a pepperoni off the pizza. “I’m sorry, Sable. I didn’t mean what I said to sound that way.” His worried gaze met hers. He searched her eyes, conveying his honesty and concern. “It’s just that you have no idea how the Old World and the New Order work. When you least expect it, something or someone can take you down a notch or two. Any other number of cruel, sinister things can happen, too, including death.”

  As Sable mulled his words around in her head, Thomas sat quietly and concentrated on his meal. Slowly, she reached for the one hardback that seemed to have the most information out of all the books and began to read aloud.

  “The Glaistig is a blood-sucking faerie.” She sat cross-legged and balanced the volume between her thighs. “They are known to haunt bodies of water, usually creeks and streams, and will lead travelers astray to feast on their blood. However, they have a benign side, often tending children, the elderly, livestock, and will clean the homes of those the Glaistig finds an affinity with. They can be appeased with milk, which seems to keep their bloodlust at bay.” She set the book down and snagged another one. “That explains why the little girl gave Cheyenne milk.” She sighed. “The farther down the stack I go, the less info there is, but it all revolves around the same things. It doesn’t explain how Cheyenne might’ve become a Glaistig or if there’s a cure for it. All she told me was that she’d succumbed to someone who belonged to a different group of Goths.”

  “Probably a unit of vampires and other blood-sucking Fae,” Thomas stated gravely. “Such creatures are everywhere amongst us. You see them on the streets, in stores, at the movies, and never realize they’re anything except regular people, but that’s because they have the ability to camouflage themselves.”

  She leaned against the bars and sipped her Dr. Pepper. “If a person can be made a Glaistig, there should be a way to unmake him. Isn’t there something like that with vampires?”

  “Yes. If the one who made him a vampire is killed, it breaks the connection between them.”

  “But Cheyenne said she succumbed to one of the bad Goths, so does that mean she was bitten?”

  Thomas nodded. “One of the Glais bites just like regular vampires do.” He stared directly into Sable’s eyes. “And if you could manage to change Cheyenne back, how would you even reach her to do it?”

  An exasperated sigh erupted from Sable. “I don’t know. I’m just thinking aloud.” She closed her eyes. With her belly full and several hours of sleep to refresh her, her mind raced with enough fuel to keep her what-if and other questions going for a long time.

  “And here’s another question. Why would Emerald give you this information?” he pressed.

  “I’m not sure,” she said, her eyes still shut. “Did you happen to see the painting of her in the first chamber?”

  “Yes.”

  “Maybe she was a mother. M
aybe her maternal instinct prodded her to do this.”

  “Wrong,” Thomas snapped with force.

  Sable opened her eyes and gaped at him. “Do you know something you’re not telling me?”

  He took her hand in his and squeezed it. “I’ve known Emerald and her den of vampires for many years. Emerald isn’t like other vamps, but she’s still dangerous. If she’s giving you information or trying to point you in the right direction, it has nothing to do with her long-dead maternal instinct. It’s because she has a different agenda.”

  Unease whispered up Sable’s spine. “Like what?”

  “Either defeating or aiding the Old World.” He shut the lid to the pizza box. “And I decided several months ago that the Old World and the New Order are more or less one and the same. They both want supreme power.”

  “So tell me about the Judges, the Old World, and the New Order,” Sable pleaded. “I need to arm myself with as much information as I can. How else can I protect myself when…?” She glanced at her hands.

  He scooted closer to her and placed a warm hand on her shoulder. “When what, baby girl?”

  “When you leave me.” Sable’s voice cracked, and a sob popped out of her mouth.

  He chuckled sympathetically and drew her into his arms. “You have every right to be hurt and pissed off at me. After I tell you everything, though, you’ll understand, but it’s a long, long story.”

  Raising her head, she sniffed and gestured around their cell. “I’ve got nothing but time on my hands.”

  He grinned at her, his perfect teeth stark against his skin. “Then let’s get comfortable, and I’ll tell you all about it.”

  Hours later, Sable awoke again. A hardback lay open over her breasts with Thomas’s hand reclined across it. Hal, now flat on his back, snored against the same wall where he’d been asleep for what seemed like ages.

  “You awake, baby girl?” Thomas whispered.

  “Yeah.” She sat up and closed the book on lore and mythology. “I can’t sleep anymore, plus I was wondering how long we’ve been in this cell. Without a watch or a window, I have no idea if we’ve been here hours or a couple of days.”