The Mistwalker (Dark Tales Book 2)

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The Mistwalker (Dark Tales Book 2) Page 1

by Regine Abel




  THE MISTWALKER

  Dark Tales #2

  Regine Abel

  Copyright © 2018

  Other books by Regine Abel

  THE VEREDIAN CHRONICLES

  Escaping Fate

  Losing Amalia

  Blind Fate

  Raising Amalia

  Twist of Fate

  BRAXIANS

  Anton’s Grace

  DARK TALES

  Bluebeard’s Curse

  The Mistwalker

  VALOS OF SONHADRA

  Unfrozen

  Iced

  XIAN WARRIORS

  Legion

  THE SHADOW REALMS

  Dark Swan

  COVER DESIGN BY

  Regine Abel

  Copyright

  All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal and punishable by law. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This book uses mature language and explicit sexual content. It is not intended for anyone under the age of 18.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Dedication

  To those who dare to dream, dare to take chances, and are not afraid to flip the bird at naysayers and conformists. Everything is possible if you wish it hard enough…

  …and then work your tail off to make it happen.

  CHAPTER 1

  Jade

  The civil defense sirens resonated in the distance and the familiar queasiness settled in the pit of my stomach. Jumping out of the comfortable leather lazy boy I’d been reading in, I tossed my book onto the glass surface of the coffee table. Despite having verified twice already that the house was under proper lock down, when the Mist rose, you could never be too cautious.

  After checking the reinforced front door and the window shutters of the entrance hall, I tugged at the metal shutters in the living room, testing the locks, then moved to the kitchen. Perched on a tall stool at the breakfast counter, my baby sister Laura was still babbling away on her phone. She absentmindedly stirred her coffee, which had, no doubt, cooled forever ago.

  “Laura, I need you to go double check the windows in the bedrooms and bathrooms upstairs,” I said over my shoulder while heading towards the kitchen windows.

  “I’m on the phone,” she grumbled, irritated.

  I paused, turned, and gave her a disbelieving look.

  “For fuck’s sake,” she said, “you’ve already checked twice!”

  “NOW, Laura!”

  She huffed and jumped off the stool, stomping her feet as she headed upstairs.

  Biting my tongue in anger, I cycled through the kitchen windows and patio door. Of all the times to pay me a visit, Laura had chosen the start of the Mist. Despite her twenty-two years of age, she remained steadfast in her immaturity. And yet, she was rocking medical school like nobody’s business. An honor roll student, she’s earned herself one scholarship after another, allowing her to pursue the studies we couldn’t have afforded otherwise. Orphaned at an early age, we’d been shuffled around from one relative to another until I turned eighteen ten years ago and took on the responsibility of my little sister.

  In spite of her carelessness regarding her personal safety, the university's security insured that all of the students were accounted for and the dormitories properly secured for the three days of the Mist. It did wonders for my peace of mind, knowing someone reliable made sure she didn’t fall asleep with an open window.

  Most homes and businesses had automated lockdown systems. I couldn’t afford one yet, but in a few months, these shutters would get a significant upgrade. Entering my office at the back of the house—which also served as my painting studio—I made a quick round, already knowing everything would be in order. I closed the thick, off-white curtains over the metal shutters to give the space the illusion of normalcy and turned around to leave.

  “JAAAAADE!”

  I squealed in fear, my heart lurching in my chest before a sense of dread descended upon me.

  “JAAAADE!” Laura screamed again from upstairs.

  The terror in her voice turned my blood to ice. I raced out of my office, down the hallway to the stairs, which I climbed two at a time. As I reached the landing, white plumes of the Mist slithered on the floor from Laura’s bedroom into the corridor.

  No! No! No! Oh God, no!

  Running the short distance to the room, I burst inside to find the shutters up, the guillotine window ajar, and Laura frantically trying to open the rotating lock at the top of the window. The Mist poured in through the three-inch opening below, spilling onto the floor like dry ice smoke. I’d never seen the Mist with my own eyes before, let alone felt its wet coldness against my skin. And yet, it wasn’t the thick, whitish curtain of fog outside that caught my eyes and liquefied my innards, stopping me dead in my tracks, but the shadowy figure floating in the air, a few meters away from the house.

  Its glowing, yellow eyes, previously trained upon my sister, shifted towards me the minute I entered the room. The wraith-like silhouette, barely opaque at first, suddenly seemed to solidify, the yellow glow intensifying as it stared all the way into the depths of my soul.

  We moved at the same time, rushing towards the window.

  “Run!” I shouted, shoving my sister out of the way.

  The antiquated window lock needed to be handled in a specific way when it got stuck. Despite the terror choking me, I successfully unlocked the window in the first attempt but it hadn’t been fast enough. The shadow wraith closed the distance at lightning speed, its dark, vaporous hand shooting through the opening to wrap around my left forearm. I screeched and shoved the unlocked window down with such force it surprised me that the glass didn’t shatter. It severed the arm of the Mistwalker, but the dark smoke of his hand didn’t evaporate; it spread along my forearm before seeping into my flesh. A thousand icy shards pricked me where the smoke had touched me then ran through my veins and up my arm before stabbing me in the heart.

  My knees nearly buckled, and my breath caught in my throat. Leaning on the windowsill for support, my eyes locked with the glowing yellow ones of the creature. Despite its indistinct features, I recognized a mouth stretching into a victorious smile. It rested both its hands on the window—the severed one having regrown—and pushed up. When the window began to reopen, I slammed it back down and locked it, realizing I had forgotten to do so, too shocked by the pain of the dark smoke entering my body.

  The Mistwalker’s smile broadened.

  “You are mine, now, beautiful Jade.”

  The disembodied voice echoed in my head, sultry like that of a lover, and full of promises. My skin erupted in goosebumps in response to the undeniable connection I felt with the creature.

  It knows my name!

  But worse still, part of it now resided inside of me.

  “Soon, we’ll be together.”

  “Never,” I whispered. “NEVER!”

  Its taunting laughter echoed in my head, soon drowned out by the banshee scream of a nearby Mistbeast. He looked over his shoulder then back at me.

  “Soon, my Jade. For now, I hunt.”

  He turned and flew away, quickly swallowed by the thick Mist.

  Hands shaking, I closed and locked the metal shutters, refusing to draw the attention of the other dark silhouettes of whatever demonic creatures lurked in the nightmarish fog.

  I wan
ted to curl up on my bed and cry, but other access points could have been left ajar. As soon as I opened my bedroom door, Laura shot to her feet and screamed from the corner where she’d been sitting, a letter opener clutched in her hands.

  A million horrible words crossed my mind, burning my tongue, but I swallowed them and gave her an angry, disgusted stare that spoke volumes. Without a word, I checked my windows which I had known to be locked, then the bathroom, and moved on to the guest room also properly secured.

  Laura shadowed me, sniffling and stuttering apologies I didn’t want to hear. Stomping past her, I headed for her bedroom. She followed in my wake like a scared puppy.

  “Please, talk to me,” Laura pleaded, wiping her tears with her sleeve. “Please, Jade. I’m so sorry.”

  I threw her pillows to the middle of the comforter on her bed then marched to the linen closet in the hallway and pulled out a couple of towels, which I carried back to the bedroom and tossed on top of the pillows.

  “What are you doing, Jade?” Laura asked, fear and confusion creeping into her voice.

  “Grab your stuff,” I said, my voice clipped. “You’re spending the rest of the Mist in the panic room.”

  “What?” she asked, disbelieving. She stared at me, mouth agape, as I bundled up her blankets and pillows. “Fine, I messed up pretty badly, but you can’t just lock me up in the basement like some naughty child!”

  “Sorry?! You think you’re fucking sorry?” I shouted. “I want to strangle you right now. You had ONE fucking thing to do and that was making sure your damn window was closed! But no, you were too damn obsessed with that goddamn phone of yours,” I snapped while pointing an angry finger at the device still clutched in her hand. “You’re so fucking irresponsible, and you had the nerve to give me attitude when I asked you to double check. You almost got us both killed.”

  Laura cringed and shrank into herself with each of my scathing words. I felt horrible tearing into my sister like that. Despite her many shortcomings, I’d never lost my shit like this, but terror still coursed through my blood, along with part of that Mistwalker.

  “And you intend to be a doctor?” I spat out, immediately regretting it. Fear made me ugly.

  She flinched, but that stung her into fighting back.

  “That’s a low blow,” she hissed. “I already apologized. What the fuck more do you want me to do? I messed up, but now it’s done! You’re not throwing me in that stupid panic room.”

  “I wish it were done, baby sister,” I said with sarcasm. “Except your little ‘mess up’ might still kill me.”

  She stiffened, her blossoming anger shifting to worry.

  “The Mistwalker that was staring you down touched me before I could close the window. A part of him got inside me through my skin. Do you understand?” I said angrily, before hugging myself. “I can feel it in my veins. God only knows what the hell it might be doing to me. So yes, Laura, your ass is going down to the panic room because it locks from the inside. If I go down there and turn into some monstrosity because of this shit inside of me, I’ll be able to walk right out and hunt you. But if you’re downstairs, I won’t be able to get to you.”

  Laura stared at me with a mixture of guilt, horror, and fear. I blinked to stem the tears that threatened to surface.

  “Oh Jade… I’m… I’m…”

  “Save it,” I said, interrupting her. If I didn’t keep moving, I’d fall apart. There’d be plenty of time to wallow in self-pity once Laura was safely locked downstairs. “Grab your stuff, make it quick.”

  Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I grabbed the bundle and walked out of the room. I ran down the stairs and opened the door to the closet beneath. The clever pattern on the wooden floor boards hid the trapdoor. Pressing the right section of the pattern with the tip of my foot opened the trapdoor, which folded up against the wall. I slid the metal panel to the side, revealing the wide staircase to the panic room. Hugging the bundle to my chest, I went down.

  This room had convinced me to buy the house. While it had been poorly decorated, furnished for function over comfort, it possessed a titanium metal plate door to block access from above and a state-of-the-art ventilation system. One could hunker down for weeks down here and be safe. I’d revamped it since acquiring the place, adding divisions for two private bedrooms, painted it in bright colors, with comfortable carpets, couches, a large screen TV, a huge library of movies, and a tablet with hundreds of digital books. Thankfully, as with every Mist, I had taken the time to fully restock the small kitchen, just in case.

  Halfway through making up Laura’s bed, her light footsteps on the stairs resonated outside the room.

  “Over here,” I shouted while fluffing the pillows.

  Complying, she made her way to the bedroom and advanced timidly inside. These few minutes alone had allowed my anger and distress to abate a little. The sorrow and guilt in the doll-like eyes of my baby sister tugged at my heart. I wanted to go to Laura, kiss her pixie face, and fluff her short strawberry blond hair. She’d hug me, and I would tell her that everything would be alright.

  But I didn’t dare.

  What if I infected her with what had gotten inside me? Even now, I could feel the alien energy thrumming within, claiming me.

  “You get to sample the new mattress first,” I said, trying to lighten the mood.

  Her eyes misted. “I’m so sorry, Jade. How do we fix it? I can’t lose you.”

  My throat tightened, and tears pricked my eyes. “I know you are, hun. I’m sorry for yelling. This whole thing has me so freaked out, but it’s going to be fine,” I said with a forced smile. “It’s only three days. We can text and call each other. Heck, I’ll even use one of those video chat programs you like so much.” Tears trickled down her cheeks, and her lips trembled, making it even harder for me to remain stoic. “I’m sure that everything will be fine, but we can’t take chances. I love you too much.”

  “I love you, too,” she said in a choked voice.

  Laura took a step forward before stopping, understanding even better than I the risks of transmission. My arms ached with the need to hug my sister. Despite our differences, we were extremely close. We’d only had each other since our parents’ untimely passing.

  “Check if you have everything you need,” I said. “You’ll be pleased to know there’s rum raisin ice cream in the freezer, and ketchup chips in the pantry.”

  She snorted and smiled through her tears.

  I exited the room, and she followed at a safe distance.

  “You remember how everything works?” I asked. She nodded and then hugged herself as I had done earlier. As a social butterfly, Laura would struggle with spending three entire days on her own. “It will be over quickly,” I said, trying to sound optimistic. “Now is the perfect time for you to binge watch those silly TV series you enjoy so much.”

  I climbed the stairs and stopped at the top to look down at Laura.

  “As soon as I’m out, you seal this place shut. Do not open to anyone, not even me, no matter what I say, until the city sirens go off, signaling the end of the Mist.”

  She nodded, tears building up again. “Okay.”

  “I love you, kiddo. See you soon.”

  “I love you, too, Jade. See ya.”

  I winked at her then exited the panic room. Seconds later, the thick titanium plate settled into place, covering the hole. With a painful sigh, I slid the metal panel above it then lowered the wooden door over it.

  Feeling twice my twenty-eight years, I climbed the stairs to my bedroom with heavy steps. Since the Mist first appeared, I’d been diligent—borderline paranoid—about securing my place of residence to avoid becoming a statistic. But now, he was inside me, a dull, throbbing pain, just above my heart, that had been intensifying over the past few minutes. I didn’t want to believe that something bad would happen to me, but the uncertainty, the not knowing, would drive me insane.

  * * *

  Soft hands roamed over my naked skin, car
essing the curve of my shoulders before closing in on my breasts. I arched my back, pressing into the gentle touch as it teased my hardening nipples. Pursuing their journey south, my lover’s palms skimmed over my stomach, diverged to my hips and down the length of my thighs before hooking behind my knees to spread my legs open. Cold air fanned over my slit before a cool tongue began to lap at me.

  I gasped, as much with pleasure as with fear. My eyes snapped open. Instead of the familiar décor of my bedroom, I saw an endless void swirling with Mist. My lips parted to scream but a moan escaped me instead as my lover’s tongue stabbed into my core. Impossibly long and thick, it darted in and out of me, flooding me with waves of sinful pleasure. Dark, vaporous tendrils wrapped around me, caressing, exploring, setting my skin on fire despite their cool feel. My mind shouted for me to pull away, resist, fight, but my body fully surrendered to the sensuous and oddly familiar assault.

  “Come for me, my Jade.”

  I wanted to say no, yell at him to release me, but my body complied, detonating with earth shattering violence. Boneless, shaking with voluptuous tremors, I let myself float on the endless brume.

  The Mistwalker passed through me, as one would walk through showering water. For an instant, we were one, his emotions seeping through me: victory, possession, and insatiable desire. I shuddered, torn between fear and an irrational excitement. The Mistwalker’s dark, ethereal form rose out of my body and settled over me, his featureless face inches from mine and glowing, yellow eyes hypnotizing me.

  “Cast away your fears, my Jade.” His disembodied voice spoke into my head. “I will never harm you. Only give you joy and pleasure.”

  Those words didn’t reassure me. As the sensual haze of my climax dissipated, the sense of doom returned with a vengeance, and yet I felt in no immediate danger.

 

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