Embrace of Darkness

by Bilinda Sheehan

  I couldn’t fault him. It was an honourable desire to have, under the circumstances it was probably foolish but that didn’t stop his little speech from pushing him up in my estimation.

  “Stay,” I said, “but stand over there out of the zone with Victoria.”

  The Sheriff nodded and moved toward the path we’d climbed down, Victoria was already there, her dark gaze watching my every move.

  Closing my eyes, I sucked in a deep breath and shook my hands out. “All right, Amber, time to get this over and done with,” I whispered. I pushed my senses outward, searching for the energy tied to the place. I still couldn’t feel my own magic but that didn’t mean it wasn’t there.

  The atmosphere was heavy and my shirt clung to my skin. Insects buzzed in the air and inside my head the sound of the rushing river was so much louder. I waited for the magic to hit, for my power to light the place up so I could walk the scene.

  “Amber?” Victoria’s voice cut through my thoughts.

  “Yeah, just give me a minute,” I said, fighting to keep my concentration in check.

  Someone touched my arm and I flinched, my eyes snapping open.

  “It’s not working, Amber, you’re going to have to do it the old-fashioned way…”

  “I just need a minute, I—”

  “We’ve been out here for half an hour,” Victoria said softly, “and nothing is happening… There isn’t so much a pip out of your power.”

  “I…” I stared around at my surroundings and nothing had changed except for the position of the sun in the sky. “But I just closed my eyes?”

  “No,” she said, “you’ve been standing there muttering to yourself for thirty minutes. The Sheriff has gone back to the car because I thought he was going to keel over out here in the sun.”

  “What’s wrong with me?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know, has this ever happened to you before?”

  “No, I’ve had visions since I was young and walking the scene is just an extension of that. I tap into the traumatic energy left behind and…” I turned around on the spot. “I don’t understand…”

  “I’ll get the kit from the car,” she said, “and you can walk it the old-fashioned way.”

  Before I could say another way, Victoria jogged toward the path, leaving me alone with my thoughts on the bank of the river.

  What was wrong with me? I’d really thought my power wouldn’t let me down if I tried to walk a scene. The ability to sense traumatic and even death energy was so innate for me, I’d never honestly thought it would let me down so badly. Was I broken? Maybe I was no longer a Shadow Sorceress, was that even possible?

  I didn’t think so but then again, I hadn’t thought losing my abilities was possible either.

  And if they didn’t come back, what would I do then? Who was I, if I didn’t have my magic?

  “You sure this will work?” I asked, spilling the last of the powder onto the ground.

  Victoria scrubbed her hand back over her face, managing to smear blood onto her cheek in the process.

  “It better,” she said darkly, “I don’t appreciate messing around with the bodily fluids donated by Elite officers.”

  I stared down at the symbols she’d made on the ground using the blood bags. Words written in Latin and runic symbols meant to open the path to the past.

  “There’s just this left,” she said, holding out a small vial of black viscous liquid.

  I took it from her and popped the rubber cork out of the top, the smell of rotted vegetation overlain with the potent scent of sulphur hit me full in the face.

  “Ugh,” I said, wrinkling my nose in disgust, “why does it always smell so vile?”

  Victoria shrugged. “Whatever it’s made from, I suppose,” she said unhelpfully.

  Eyeing the vial once more, I shrugged. “Bottom’s up,” I said, tipping the contents into my mouth.

  The last time I’d walked a scene using the Elite’s ritual had been my training exam, despite my ability to recreate the scene without their spell, I couldn’t very well let anyone else know I could. Of course, the last time I’d done the ritual my own powers had been securely locked away from me behind my mother’s binding spell.

  The thick goop, clung to my tongue and the roof of my mouth and I struggled to swallow it.

  “Eyes wide, heart open,

  No vengeance do I seek.

  Should I speak false let my flesh be the penalty.”

  I made my first turn of the circle, chanting the words aloud, all the while trying not to gag on the foul residue coating my tongue.

  “Blood for blood, I willingly pay the price.”

  I took the knife tucked into the back of my jeans and using the wickedly sharp tip I pricked my finger and allowed a drop to fall onto the blood circle already laid down by Victoria.

  “Let the seekers of justice who’ve walked before me

  Grant me safe passage to the past.”

  Moving into the centre of the circle, the power building around me pressed uncomfortably against my skin.

  “Give me eyes to see, hands to touch, tongue to speak.

  Show me now and show me true, lead me not astray.

  Circle bound, I summon thee

  Come forth the wronged so I might bear witness to your end.”

  A cymbal crash of pain ripped through my head, dropping me to my knees. I hit the grass, my vision blurring as I groped around in front of me, searching for something anything to cling to as the world tilted violently.

  Opening my mouth, I tried to scream but the sound wouldn’t leave my lips, couldn’t leave my mouth. The thick black fluid I’d drank blocked my throat keeping the sound in my chest just as the cork in the top of the vial had kept it trapped inside.

  The power pressing against my skin became needles that pierced my body, opening me up to the power of the circle. I scrabbled at my neck, my lungs burning because I couldn’t draw breath and still the thick liquid in my mouth sealed my throat closed.

  The sound of laughter pulled me up sharp and I jerked my head up, sucking a deep breath of air in through my mouth as I did so. My vision was still a little blurred but the pain was gone, only a faint memory of it still prickled against my back but I could breathe and move.

  Scrubbing my hand over my eyes, I peered up at the sky. Night had fallen, the crescent moon hung low over the river and it was the only light by which to see my surroundings.

  Lowering my gaze once more, I froze two feet in front of me, a young man lay on a picnic blanket next to young woman. Moving into a push up, he hovered over her as she reached her fingers up to caress his cheek. He wrapped his fingers through hers, pushing her beneath him as he rolled over her.

  I recognised him from the picture in the file we’d received from the Sheriff’s office. I’d read it on the drive over with Victoria.

  How was this possible?

  Steve Taylor was very much alive as he dipped his head down over Jessie’s.

  The Elite ritual had never been this real before. It should have only been capable of creating ghostly impressions. Fleeting glimpses into the past. But I actually felt as though I was there with them, as though I could reach out and touch them if I wanted to.

  “I fucking love you, Jess,” he whispered against her mouth. His lips found hers in a kiss that saw her cling to him. She moaned, arching up into his body as pinned her arms above her head with one hand. His mouth moved from hers as he trailed fiery kisses over her face, down her cheek, moving to her neck.

  Heat climbed into my face as I watched him force a knee between her legs. Lifting my gaze, I searched the tree line.

  Whatever had attacked them had to be here somewhere.

  Jessie moaned again and I glanced back at the pair of them as Steve rose up above her, pulling his T-shirt off over his head as he unbuckled his belt.

  “Shit,” I swore under my breath, looking away once more.

  Steve froze. “Did you hear something?” He crouched protective
ly over Jessie, shielding her with his own as he scanned their surroundings.

  My breath caught in the back of my throat. This felt real, much more real than anything I’d ever experienced before and yet, it wasn’t possible. Was it?

  “There’s nothing there, baby,” Jessie said, reaching up to smooth her hands over Steve’s chest. Her hand slid lower, disappearing beneath the waist band of his jeans and he groaned, losing whatever concentration he’d hand moments before.

  “Fuck, Jess, I need you.”

  I scanned the trees, my senses attuned to the sudden silence that had befallen the river bank. Where, just moments before there had been the sounds of crickets and other nocturnal creatures going about their business, now there was nothing and the void of sound that had swept in was utterly deafening.

  My gaze swept the river bank and I spotted something scuttle over the edge. The dark shape kept low to the ground as it closed the distance between the river and the couple’s picnic blanket.

  Pushing up onto my feet, I gripped the dagger in my hand as the creature straightened up and loomed over Steve.

  Skeletal arms grabbed the hapless young man by the shoulders, jerking him backwards and away from his girlfriend.

  Jessie screamed, the sound echoing over the surface of the river and the creature dropped Steve, turning back to the young woman who was at that moment scrabbling back over the grass. It swiped at her body, sharp talons ripping into her shoulder and arm as she tried to roll out of reach.

  “Get the fuck away from her!” Steve landed on the creature’s back, wrapping his strong arms around its neck. He jerked its head back, revealing the creature in all its glory.

  “A troll? You’ve got to be kidding me?” I muttered to myself as I watched the troll try and shake Steve free.

  “Run, Jess—” Steve’s scream cut off as the troll reached back and grabbed him with its large shovel sized hand.

  As a rule the creatures were pretty dumb but their size and strength more than made up for the lack of brain cells. However, the troll that was grappling with Steve was like no troll I’d ever seen in my life.

  It was emaciated, its grey skin hung from its frame making it look like a partially deflated balloon.

  The troll roared and I slapped my hands over my ears to try and block out the worst of the hellish noise.

  It ripped Steve from its back, holding him aloft like he was nothing more than a child’s doll and not a fully grown man. The troll grabbed Steve’s head and started to squeeze.

  “No!” A high-pitched voice cut the night air like a knife and I started. Turning, I glanced over my shoulder at the emaciated figure standing in the trees where Victoria had found the blood.

  “You can’t spill a drop out here, not here in the open…” It beckoned to the first troll who had halted its execution of Steve and now stood on the edge of the riverbank.

  “But I’m so hungry, mother,” troll number one said, “just let me suck the juice out?”

  I cringed as Steve squirmed and fought in his attackers grip. His struggles were lessening and I could see blood smeared down over his mouth. For one split second, I locked gazes with Steve, his eyes widening as he saw me. And there was no doubt in my mind that he saw me.

  “Help me!” he mouthed, the words barely squeezing out through his lips.

  There was nothing I could do, this was just a memory, the trauma of his death forever burned into the ground. As real as it felt, I couldn’t help him.

  The troll’s head turned, its gaze sweeping over me as it searched the area. Was he looking for me?

  “Please!” Steve said, his eyes glassy with unshed tears.

  “I don’t want to die…” he whispered the words in my ear and I whirled to find Steve standing next to me.

  “This isn’t real, you’re not really here. You’re dead…” I said, taking a small step backwards.

  “You let me die,” he said, the rage in his voice unmistakable.

  “I wasn’t there,” I said, as he advanced toward me.

  “Just look at me,” he said, suddenly lunging forward and grabbing my face. His grip was punishing and where his skin pressed against mine I could feel his touch searing into my flesh. Steve’s grip was impossible to shake free as he jerked my head around, forcing me to watch the troll carry his limp body toward the tree line.

  “You let this happened, you could have helped me… You could have saved Jessie.”

  Bringing the blade up, I sliced it down over his arm and he dematerialised. I spun around but he was nowhere to be seen.

  “I’m going to make you pay,” he said, the words brushing past my ear. I whirled to face him, following the sound of his voice but there was nothing there. Searching within for my power, I prayed for a miracle. The circle wouldn’t fall until the memory was complete and I couldn’t break it without running the risk of releasing the magic into the world.

  The cold void where my power should have been sat inside me like a gaping wound.

  Something solid slammed into my back, knocking me to the ground. I scrambled to my knees but Steve’s foot landed square in my ribs, setting fire to the air in my lungs.

  “I wasn’t here,” I wheezed, “you’re already dead. If I could have helped you, I would…”

  He kicked me again and I yelped, rolling away as he prepared to land another devastating blow.

  “She’s gone and I can’t find her,” he said, “I keep looking but I can’t find her…” His anguished words reached me and I held my hand out toward him.

  “Jessie’s not dead,” I said, “that’s why you can’t find her…”

  “You’re lying…”

  I grabbed the knife and held it in front of me as he moved toward me.

  “I’m not, Steve. If she were dead, she’d be here with you but she survived…”

  “I’m not stupid,” he said, tears glistening in his eyes. “The other one went after her and the last thing I remember was listening to her screams as that monster murdered her...” A tear spilled over onto his cheek. “I loved her.”

  “I know,” I said, “but I swear to you, I’m telling the truth. Jessie is alive.”

  He hesitated and I could see the struggle in his eyes. He wanted to believe me, I could tell but the trauma of his murder and the shock to his spirit was feeding the rage growing inside him.

  “Prove it,” he said through gritted teeth.

  “She’s in the hospital,” I said, “she raised the alarm, tried to get help for you but it was too late…”

  “That’s not proof.”

  “I can’t bring her here, Steve, you know that deep down. She’s safe in the hospital…”

  “How can I trust you?”

  “I’m here because Jessie managed to get away. If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t be here now, talking to you.”

  “I don’t want to be die,” he said sadly, “I don’t want to be here. I just want to go home.”

  “I know,” I said, “but we can’t change what has already happened, Steve.”

  “But you’re here, you can see me and if you can then…” he trailed off a strange light growing in his eyes. “Maybe I don’t really have to die.”

  He took an involuntary step forward.

  “You’re already dead, there’s nothing I can do…”

  Fear crawled down my spine as he took another step toward me. I could practically see the cogs in his head turning as he eyed me up.

  “I don’t have to stay dead…”

  He leaped toward me and I brought the blade up, my hand passing straight through him as he dematerialised just before I could hit him. And then he was whole again. His hand grabbed my wrist, twisting my arm down and away from my body, rendering the blade useless.

  “I think if I take you for a ride, I’ll know if you’re telling me the truth about Jessie.”

  With his free hand he grabbed my throat, his grip like a vice. The harder I fought against him the more he clung to me. The cold of his skin sank in against
my own, chilling me to the bone and still I fought him.

  “It’ll hurt less if you give in,” he said, tightening his grip.

  What was it with guys and their desire to climb inside me? My body was my own. I didn’t want to share it with anyone. Not Fionn, not Alastor, and definitely not the ghost of Steve Taylor.

  A scream pierced the air and the magic holding the circle in place collapsed around me. Steve’s grip disappeared and I hit the ground. Sucking a deep breath in through my mouth, I closed my eyes and fought back the sudden wave of nausea that washed over me.

  “What the hell was that?” The Sheriff’s voice carried over the distance between us and I turned to see him standing with Victoria.

  Just what I needed. How was I supposed to explain to him what had happened, when I wasn’t entirely certain myself?

  12

  “So wait, is Steve dead or not?”

  I sighed my frustration. It wasn’t his fault. He wasn’t used to seeing things like this but it didn’t change the fact that explaining something as complicated as this twice already all while he continued to ask the same questions was beginning to wear thin on me.

  “Steve is definitely dead,” I said.

  “We think,” Victoria added helpfully. “We don’t have a body yet so it’s still technically an assumption on our part.”

  “So not helping right now,” I said to her under my breath.

  “I’m not trying to be helpful,” she said, “I’m being accurate.”

  I stuffed the jar of grave dirt back into my bag and scooped it up before I climbed to my feet.

  “Steve is dead,” I said, shooting a warning glare in Victoria’s direction. “I felt him, he’s on the other side.”

  “And those creatures,” the Sheriff said.

  “Trolls,” I corrected.

  “Fine, those trolls, they took him why?”

  “To eat most likely,” Victoria answered. “He’s no use as a mate. The females can’t carry a half-breed. It only works with a female human and male troll. The human dies giving birth to the troll, which then eats its way out of the mother.”