A Tale of Two Goblins: A Paranormal Romance/ Urban Fantasy

by H. P. Mallory

  Dia didn’t look impressed. The elevator doors closed and she hit the button that would take us to floor three. “And?” she prodded.

  “And I found out a crapload,” I answered, rubbing my knuckles against my left breast as if to say I was the shit. “But, before we get into that subject, how are our patients holding up?”

  Dia shrugged. “So far so good.”

  “Sam?” I started, glancing at Knight.

  “Nothing new to report,” Knight finished. “Trey is watching her now.”

  Dia faced him. “Have Shirley and Travis been moved yet?”

  I didn’t wait for Knight’s response but turned toward him, the demand for information in my eyes. “Update please.”

  He stepped out of the elevator, keeping the door from closing as Dia and I followed suit. “We’ve ordered Travis and Shirley to be moved from Moon General to Splendor. Otherwise, it’s too difficult for Dia to travel back and forth. We thought the Dreamstalker might throw us a curve ball.”

  I nodded—that made sense. Since Dia was playing tracker for the victims, it would make her job a hell of a lot easier if the victims were all in the same place—especially since Moon was at least two hours from Splendor. I could only imagine the reason we hadn’t reached this conclusion earlier was due to the fact that Dreamstalkers usually worked in linear patterns, killing their victims one at a time, from first attacked to last attacked. And going by that pattern, it would mean that Jenny would be next, followed by Travis and Shirley and, finally, Sam. Since I was now convinced that this creature wasn’t a full-blooded Dreamstalker but a creature drinking from a full-blooded Dreamstalker, the idea to move Shirley and Travis was that much better since this creature was unpredictable. Who knew who he’d target next?

  “Good idea,” I said.

  Knight faced Dia again. “And to answer your question, they should be arriving any minute. We’ve freed up the third floor so it’s just Sam, Jenny, Travis and Shirley. And we’ve got security all over this hospital, especially on the third floor.”

  Just as he finished his statement, a cop walked past and nodded his head in salutation. Knight paused just beside a hospital room; the door closed. He faced me. “This is Jenny’s room, do you want to check on her?”

  I took a deep breath, afraid for what I might find. At this point, according to our deductions, Jenny was living on borrowed time. I turned the doorknob and entered the room, immediately noticing the cop stationed beside the still form of Jenny. He glanced up at me and smiled warmly. I returned the smile and approached him.

  “I’m here to relieve you for a bit,” I offered.

  The cop didn’t make any motion to leave. “And you are?”

  “Dulcie O’Neil,” Knight answered from behind me. “She’s with us.”

  The cop stood up, offering me a small smile of apology as he walked past. I turned to face Knight, about to ask for a little personal time with my childhood nanny but he nodded as if he knew what was on my mind.

  “I’ll be back in a few,” he said, closing the door behind me.

  I felt almost uncomfortable as I approached Jenny—as if I didn’t know what to say after not seeing her in over fifteen years. I stood above her and glanced down at her sweet face—there didn’t appear to be anything wrong—no Dreamstalker attacking her dreams. She appeared to be sleeping peacefully. And that was bizarre—at this point, I would have thought she’d be battling for her life, not appearing as serene as Sleeping Beauty.

  “Hi, Jenny,” I started and my voice seemed alien somehow. “It’s me, Dulcie O’Neil.”

  Of course she didn’t say anything but I had to wonder if she could hear me, if my words might offer encouragement. I grasped her hand and squeezed it.

  “I’m going to make sure you get out of this, Jenny. I work in law enforcement with the Splendor ANC,” I continued. “I bet you never thought I’d end up a cop, did you?”

  I laughed and eyed the dawn as it broke through Jenny’s window, the yellow rays of the sun absorbing the mysterious darkness of night. Somehow that visual gave me strength and renewed my fervor. With the Mandrake pumping through my system, I was suddenly confident—I knew we could take this guy down.

  “I know you’re afraid, Jenny, but we’re going to catch this creature.”

  I heard the door open and I glanced behind me at Knight. He smiled before gently closing the door and starting toward me. His footsteps belied his great height and build and I felt myself gulp as he draped his arm around me and glanced down at Jenny.

  “How is she doing?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know. I mean, she seems okay—I don’t notice any indication of a struggle which doesn’t make sense.”

  Knight nodded as if he knew where I was going with my comment. “This thing isn’t operating under the same rules other Dreamstalkers have.”

  “Dia seems convinced it isn’t a Dreamstalker,” I said and eyed him, wondering how he’d take the news that I didn’t think it was a Dreamstalker either.

  “Maybe it isn’t,” he said noncommittally and shrugged. “Dia is outside, trying to get a read on whether the Dreamstalker has been around lately or not.”

  “How is she able to track them?”

  “I’m not sure exactly but apparently she can sense them as long as she’s close enough to one. I think she said it has to be within one hundred feet or something.”

  “So if the Dreamstalker isn’t nearby, she’s just wasting her time out there.”

  He shook his head. “She can sense them both before and after they visit their victims. Apparently they leave a psychic imprint in the air.”

  “Ah, so that’s what she’s searching for now?”

  He nodded and pulled up the doctor’s swivel stool, taking a seat. He then motioned to the visitor’s seat just behind me. “Have a seat, Dulce, we’re going to be here for a long time.”

  I didn’t argue but released Jenny’s hand, gingerly placing it beneath her blanket before retiring into the visitor’s chair with a sigh. I stretched my legs out before me and crossed them at the ankles.

  “We’re waiting on Anna’s autopsy reports to see if it really was her heart that gave out,” Knight continued.

  “Even if it was her heart, who’s to say that it wasn’t the Dreamstalker who scared her to death?”

  Knight shook his head. “It wouldn’t follow true Dreamstalker death patterns. Death by slumber usually points to solidly functioning organs. It could just be that Anna had a weak heart.”

  I shrugged but wasn’t buying it. “Knight, I don’t think it’s a true Dreamstalker either.”

  I waited for the words to sink in, for him to argue with me but he just faced me with no emotion. “And I imagine this new opinion came about from this lead you mentioned earlier,” Knight started, raising a brow, as if he expected more from my story. “Who was it from and what was it?”

  I glanced up at him. “You should know better than to ask me who my leads are.”

  He chuckled. “Yep, I should. What can you tell me, then?”

  I took a deep breath, not even really sure where to start. “I found out there is a new form of street potion in the underground. It’s blood.”

  “Blood?” Knight repeated doubtfully.

  “Blood of the most imposing creatures of the Netherworld is finding its way onto the streets. Apparently creatures are drinking the blood and adopting the strength and power of the creature to whom the blood belongs. And the more they drink, the stronger they become.”

  Knight was silent for a few seconds. “Then this Dreamstalker could be…”

  “Anything,” I interrupted. “That would explain why Dia couldn’t sense it during Transcendence. Because it never went through Transcendence.”

  I could see his brain spinning, building up possible situations and outcomes. “But, where you’re concerned…” he started again.

  “Whatever it is, it has a personal vendetta against me, that much is obvious.”

  He chuckled.
“How many Netherworld creatures have you pissed off, Dulce?”

  “Too many to count.” I glanced up at him and shook my head. “Way too many to count. I need all my ANC files—I need to find out who did time because of me and who got out.”

  “I’ve been working with Elsie to transfer all the hard files to e-files. I told her to start with yours and if I’m not mistaken, she’s already finished them. You have that iPad on you?”

  Damn, it was sitting on my desk. “Left it at home but I can run back…”

  “Take the BMW,” Knight interrupted in a tone that warned me not to argue with him. “It’s safer than your bike.”

  What was it with bossy men who did nothing but worry? It was enough I had to deal with Bram and Quillan. Now I had to add Knight to that list? “You do realize I used to be a Regulator?”

  He shrugged. “Yeah, of course.”

  “I’ve been through lots worse stuff than taking my bike a few miles down the street to my house.”

  “Just placate me, will you?”

  I clenched my teeth but didn’t want to get into an argument, especially one as stupid as this promised to be. “Where are your keys?”

  He smiled but tried to keep it to himself, probably afraid his gloating would cause me to rethink my position. He fished inside his pocket and handed them to me without a word.

  “I need to check on Sam and then I’ll head home,” I said and stood up, starting for the door. I didn’t wait for a response.

  “Roger that,” Knight called behind me.

  As I entered the hallway, Trey suddenly accosted me and forced a manila folder into my hands. “What’s this?” I asked, glancing down at it.

  “It’s all the info I could find on Shirley Mickelson, like you requested,” he said and beamed, his chest held high.

  I’d forgotten that I’d even asked for the information in the first place. “Thanks, Trey.” I opened the folder and quickly scanned through the contents before facing him with a smile. “Looks like you did an awesome job. I’ll take a look at it right away.”

  #

  As soon as I stepped inside my door, I didn’t waste any time and hurried to my kitchen table, opening the file Trey had given me. Knight and his iPad could wait a few minutes. As I searched through Trey’s chicken scratch notes, I read accounts of Shirley Mickelson’s personality, as told to Trey by her neighbors, family and friends. There was a full page of information on where she’d grown up and gone to school, when she’d wed, how many kids she’d had, awards she’d won…Holy Hades, Trey had been detailed in his research. I definitely owed him a lunch for this one.

  After reading through more information on Shirley Mickelson than I’d ever wanted to know, I glanced at the last sheet in the file which was a list of all her home addresses.

  And that’s when I realized her connection to me—Shirley Mickelson and her husband had owned the house my mother and I had rented when I’d been in my early teens, before my mother had died and I’d moved to Splendor.

  Ten

  Anna Murphy had died from a heart attack. At least that’s what the autopsy revealed. I, myself, still wasn’t convinced that her death had nothing to do with the Dreamstalker or whatever it was that we were dealing with. My beliefs ran more along the lines that her heart had simply expired because she’d been too freaked out by everything that had happened to her. But, apparently, I was in the minority, because everyone else bought the whole “heart failure from natural means” diagnosis. I had to wonder if it wasn’t just wishful thinking on everyone else’s part.

  It had been another two nights of recon missions at the hospital and we still had nothing to show for it. Time was slipping through our hands like sand and although Jenny’s disposition had remained stable, the same couldn’t be said for Sam’s. If Sam hadn’t looked good before, she looked horrible now—she’d lost weight, her skin was sallow and her eyes sunken. It was pretty obvious what was happening—the Dreamstalker (I’d decided to continue to refer to him as such simply because I didn’t know what else to call him…course, son-of-bitch-asshole-who-needed-to-die also worked) was getting restless, no pun intended. He’d been planning on the fact that I’d succumb to sleep sooner rather than later and the Mandrake had thrown a huge wrench in his plans. So, now he was going for my jugular—he was going for Sam.

  I’d stood by Sam’s bedside twenty four/seven while Knight, Trey and Dia as well as the rest of both Splendor ANC and Moon ANC units scouted the hospital, searching for any sign of foul play. Of course, Dia couldn’t detect the slightest sign of the Dreamstalker which cemented the fact that our Dreamstalker was anything but full blooded.

  Dia had given up relying on her Somnogobelinus sixth sense as well—pretty much after I agreed with her wholeheartedly that we weren’t dealing with a true Dreamstalker and she had, instead, resorted to tracking it the old fashioned way by interviewing hospital staff, watching hospital security footage and gathering clues, all of which yielded nothing.

  I’d now been awake for over five days and my sanity was becoming compromised. Even though a never-ending stream of energy coursed through me, courtesy of the Mandrake, I could feel my body wilting behind a mask of vitality. I’d lost my appetite and couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten something worth a damn. I just snacked here and there, whenever my mind reminded my stomach that it had been hours, sometimes a day since my last meal. My clothes hung limply from my already lithe figure and dark circles had taken up permanent lodging underneath my eyes.

  Dia had offered her sleep services numerous times but I’d flatly declined her offers, knowing the Mandrake wouldn’t allow me to sleep, no matter how hard I tried. I almost regretted taking it…almost. I was down to my last two Mandrake doses and we still didn’t have any breaks in the case. Panic dwelt in my gut and alongside the ever-flowing river of Mandrake-induced energy, I was surprised I hadn’t had a heart attack, myself.

  But, the state of my physical health wasn’t the worst of it. The worst, scariest part of the whole damned situation was the fact that I was starting to hallucinate. I was seeing things that weren’t there and things I shouldn’t have been seeing.

  The visions started a night or so ago, I thought—I’d lost track of time, and I’d been at the hospital, sitting at Sam’s bedside when I’d heard a faint cooing sound. I glanced behind me and felt my heart drop to my toes as a baby crawled past Sam’s open door and down the corridor. I lurched from my seat and ran into the hallway, only to find an empty corridor greeting me. There had been no baby—there’d been nothing at all.

  Later that same evening, I went home to take a quick shower and feed the dog when Knight suddenly materialized in my living room—materialized as if he’d just stepped out of thin air a la Bram-style. He stood in front of me but said nothing, staring at me with unadulterated lust, the same expression I’d seen him wear on more than one occasion.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” I asked as Blue whined and clawed at the kitchen door, wanting to be let in. But, I wasn’t concerned with the dog at the moment, what I was concerned with was how the hell Knight had pulled a Scotty and beamed himself right into my living room.

  Knight said nothing but continued to stare at me, only now a smile tilted the ends of his lips.

  “Hello? Earth to the Loki,” I continued, annoyed with his games.

  He didn’t respond but simply disappeared—back into the atmosphere from whence he’d come. I didn’t even have the chance to ponder how completely bizarre the situation had been because moments later my phone rang.

  I gripped the receiver, bringing it to my mouth before checking the caller ID as I opened the kitchen door and Blue came galloping in.

  “Hello?” I demanded, petting Blue’s head as he danced around me.

  “It’s me,” Knight answered.

  “Where the hell did you go?”

  There was silence on the other line. “What?”

  I sighed and it was full of frustration. “Two seconds ago, you s
howed up in my house uninvited and when I tried to talk to you, you just ignored me and left. Really nice, Knight, I don’t have the time for this crap.”

  More silence. I pulled out the Alpo bag from my broom closet and walked to the back door, reaching down for Blue’s bowl as I wondered if Knight had dropped off the line.

  “Hello?” I insisted, placing Blue’s food dish on the kitchen floor.

  “Dulcie, is everything okay?” Knight asked in a concerned voice.

  “Yes,” I bit out, wondering why the hell he was playing games. We didn’t have time for games. “Why do you ask?”

  “Because I’ve been at the hospital ever since you left—I never came to see you.”

  Now it was my turn for silence—the only sound in the room was the tinkling of the dog kibbles as they dropped into the silver bowl. Blue devoured them hungrily as I wondered what the hell was wrong with me? First I’d seen a baby who wasn’t there and now I’d imagined Knight? I was losing my mind—it was a sign that I had to get off the Mandrake. But, the very thought of abandoning the Mandrake suddenly made my gut clench and anger bubbled up within me. I couldn’t go cold turkey, er, cold fairy. I couldn’t stop taking the Mandrake, not now when Sam’s life still depended on it. No, my resolution was firm—I had to crack the case and I had two days left to do it in; if no one else would help me, then damn them. I’d do it myself.

  “Are you still there?” Knight asked.

  “Yeah,” I started, my voice echoing my muddled thoughts. “Sorry. I must have just…been confused, that’s all.”

  He cleared his throat. “Dulcie, you need to sleep.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Dia said she offered to give you a couple of hours and you turned her down…repeatedly.”

  Damn Dia and her big mouth. “I don’t have time to sleep. Not when Sam’s life depends on us finding this guy,” I blurted out.

  “Your health is suffering, Dulcie, you don’t look good.”

  “To hell with looking good!” I yelled into the phone. “I don’t give a shit about my hair or…”