Darkest Hour

by Rob Cornell

  She turned her attention to Caruthers. “Did you hear that? He wants to condemn me to hell. I though only the good Lord could do that.”

  Caruthers stammered. The sheen of sweat on his brow and the pasty cast to his skin suggested he had never really expected to speak with Gabriel. Apparently, the father’s faith had a few chinks in it.

  Lockman crossed over and grabbed Caruthers’s arm. “Get a hold of yourself.”

  Jessie snickered.

  Caruthers wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, took a deep breath. “I’m fine.” He dipped his fingers back into the holy water and flicked some drops in Jessie’s face.

  She flinched, but the water had no effect on her skin. Her tongue snaked out and licked at a drop by the corner of her mouth. “Refreshing. Better if it were blood, though.”

  Lockman wanted to physically strike out at Gabriel, but that meant attacking Jessie. The evil man sat protected within his host and hostage.

  “Get him out, Father.”

  He made the sign of the cross and mumbled a prayer under his breath that started with the plea, “Lord, give me strength...”

  Jessie smiled wide enough to show her fangs. “I think I’ve seen this movie,” she said. “It didn’t end well for the preacher.”

  “The Lord works through me. His power is my power. I command you, spirit, leave this body.”

  “Well, since you asked so nicely...no.”

  Gabriel had managed to take over Jessie so thoroughly, she had nearly become him. Lockman’s desire to grasp her throat and squeeze grew despite his knowing he would be hurting her more than he would Gabriel. Which raised the question—where was Jessie now? Was she in there, muscled out of her own rightful spot in her consciousness by Gabriel because of the priest’s summons?

  Why the hell did I agree to this?

  The father seemed to gain confidence. His prayers had given him strength. He puffed up his chest and bellowed, “Out with you, demon. The power of Christ demands you leave this innocent body.”

  Jessie threw back her head and laughed. Her whole body shook with it. “Innocent body? You call me the demon, but this body is a vampire. This dear girl lost all hope of innocence when she drank her own regurgitated blood and left the mortal world behind.” She reached out and grabbed Caruthers by the throat, pulled him down so she could look him straight in the eyes. “This girl’s body is lost to you.”

  And then she tore the father’s head off his shoulders.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Kate had clothes again, but what helped most with staying warm was the absence of the ghost. She sat alone in a room furnished to look like an average living room you’d find in any suburban house right down to the HDTV and shelves with knick-knacks on the walls. The only thing that ruined the impression was the steel door and the two-way mirror built into one wall.

  She assumed she was in the same building as the last room, but because of another dose of Mica’s pixie dust, they could have taken her anywhere while she was zonked out. All sense of time had blown to pieces for her as well. For all she knew, they had her in an underground lair in the South Pole two months after Mica had grabbed her from her apartment in New York.

  The where and when didn’t matter, though. Not anymore. She had agreed to help. She wanted to find Jessie, and if anyone could help her better than a pixie and a ghost, she didn’t know who.

  The strange rooms gave Kate the impression they had resources. And Thom—the name the ghost had used to introduce himself—had suggested there were others like them on their “team,” though he had yet to explain the function of this team.

  Kate had her own ideas. Something like the Agency that Craig used to work for, she guessed. A government operation that dealt with what Craig had once referred to as the Darker Things.

  She had the TV on, tuned in to some reality show featuring make-up artists who competed by turning models into various fanciful creatures. The contestants lived in happy ignorance that some of the creatures they designed actually existed in the real world and were far more horrifying than their mere appearance suggested.

  Much of what Kate had experienced in the last year had made fiction look pretty silly.

  The hinges on the steel door creaked as the door swung open. Mica entered the room alone—at least that’s what it looked like at first.

  Then Kate noticed the three foot-tall man walking beside her.

  He didn’t have the features of a human dwarf or little person. In fact, he looked perfectly human except for his size—a shrunken man wearing a suit as fancy as anything Armani put out for the standard-sized gentleman. Age-wise, he resembled a full-grown man in his thirties. His small patch of hair was neatly coiffed on his baseball-sized head. He had a striped tie around his tiny neck. His eyes shone a marvelous blue, like glowing gems inset in his face, the only other feature besides his size that marked him as non-human.

  The small man must have enjoyed the attention Kate gave him. He smiled, shot his cuffs, and straightened his tie. “You like the merchandise?”

  “Stuff it, Wertz. For mortal girls, size does matter.”

  He shot her a dirty look—having to crane his neck back to do it—but his smile quickly returned, and with those beautiful eyes Kate felt a tinge of attraction despite his stature.

  “You never met a gnome, I take it?” he asked.

  Kate stammered, the question too surreal. Though you’d think I’d be used to this crazy stuff by now.

  “Don’t let the size fool ya,” he said and waggled his eyebrows. “Good things come—”

  “Cool it, Wertz, before I drown you in my vomit.” Mica gave him a nudge with her foot, which almost toppled the little guy.

  He dusted off his suit with his hands. “Watch the duds, Dusty. You know how much Giorgio charges to custom design for a gnome?”

  “Those...” Kate started and felt a sudden urge to giggle that made it hard to go on. “Those are really Armani?”

  “Damn skippy, they are.”

  “But aren’t gnomes...” She tittered. “Aren’t you supposed to live in gardens?”

  The glow in his eyes dimmed. He crossed his arms. “I expected better from someone of your pedigree.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Everyone with an un-rotted brain in the supernatural community knows who the mother of the Chosen One is. And frankly, I thought you wouldn’t be caught up in all the mortal clichés. Next, I supposed you’ll ask where my red pointed hat is.”

  That cinched it. Kate broke into full laughter. Once she started, she couldn’t get herself to stop. The laughter came like steam from a cracked pipe, a release of pressure.

  The gnome dragged his hands down over his face and groaned. “I get no respect.”

  Mica shook her head and strode over to the couch where Kate sat. She held out her hand. “Come with me, love. It’s time for orientation.”

  “Orientation?”

  “The whole naked questioning thing with Thom was your initiation. Now it’s time to get smarted up on what we’re for.”

  “When do we find Jessie?”

  “All things in time, sweets.” She wagged the fingers of her outstretched hand. “Let’s not keep the boss waiting.”

  “Thom’s the boss?”

  The creased brow and incredulous look Mica gave reminded Kate of Jessie so much she almost started crying as quickly as she had started laughing.

  “Kinda hard to be a boss when you can’t touch anything, eh?” Mica said. “Boss has got a little more substance, if you know what I mean.”

  Kate took Mica’s hand and let Mica help her to her feet. The strength Kate sensed in the woman’s arm gave her pause. The pixie had kicked Kate’s apartment door in and halfway across the room. Kate had a feeling if Mica had used her hands, the door would have continued sailing straight through the opposite wall.

  Wertz bowed and swept an arm out toward the door. “Ladies.”

  Mica guided Kate out into a long hallway with other steel doo
rs matching the one to the faux living room.

  “What is this place?” Kate asked.

  “Headquarters’ subfloor,” Wertz answered. “With a room for every occasion.”

  “Subfloor?” Maybe they had taken her to an underground lair.

  “Fancy for the basement,” Mica said. “You’ll find we got a fancy word for just about everything. One of the few things I don’t like about this outfit.”

  “What exactly is this outfit?”

  “We’re taking you to find out.”

  “No pixie dust this time?”

  One corner of Mica’s mouth curled up just barely. “Nope. Sleepy time is over, love. Time now for you to wake up and see it all.”

  The hall eventually led to an elevator. Based on the numbers above the elevator door, the building they were in had seven floors. Once inside, Mica gestured at Wertz. “Push the seven for me, will ya?”

  Wertz spat air, fluttering his lips. “Funny gal.” The button for the seventh floor was well above the gnome’s reach.

  Mica smirked as she tapped the button herself.

  The rise made Kate’s stomach spin a little. She took a deep breath and tried to prepare herself for whatever came next. Impossible, she knew. In this secret world of gnomes and pixies and vampires and ghosts, you couldn’t prepare, because just about anything could come next. In this world, life seemed to have no rules.

  The seventh floor did not disappoint in the surprise department. The doors split and the three of them stepped out into a penthouse apartment that could have fit three of Kate’s old houses inside. A hodgepodge of exotic paintings and statuary made up the bulk of the décor. A half-man, half-dragon carved from marble sat atop a Grand piano, the piano situated in a corner made of glass, a view of endless plains stretching out below, the setting sun turning the tips of the browning grass a glowing amber.

  Kate’s breath caught at the view.

  More sculptures like the man-dragon sat on shelves or stood as tall as Kate on the floor. Winged creatures, giant snakes, men clad in armor and wielding swords. Paintings on the walls depicted scenes both macabre and inspiring—like the one of the man dancing with a glowing angel, unaware of the twisted demon close behind with bared fangs and a long sword.

  Mica and Wertz let Kate gape for a bit before ushering her further inside.

  The floor plan was mostly open, but the furnishings and a few select walls provided enough of a maze for them to go through that Kate did not see the man waiting for them on the red leather couch until they turned a corner guarded by a life-sized sculpture of an ogre that doubled as a pillar bracing the ceiling.

  For the second time, Kate’s breath caught.

  She knew the man on the couch, his arms stretched out along the seatback to either side of him, legs casually spread, dark gaze locked directly onto her. She had seen his face on countless magazine covers, movie trailers, TV interviews and exposes. The even stubbled head. The matching stubble on his face. Both carefully groomed to look perpetually, but handsomely, un-groomed. His most famous feature was his eyes, though. Cool, gray, and always with a hint of the sinister. Those eyes, more than any acting talent, were what made Romeo Kress, according to People Magazine, America’s favorite bad guy.

  The closest Kate had ever come to meeting a celebrity in person was when she had lunch one table over from her local weatherman. In any other situation, she would have been plenty blown away with meeting the legendary Romeo Kress. She’d seen his movies, loved several of them. But to meet him under these circumstances? That he had something to do with the likes of Mica and Wertz, that he wanted to find Jessie himself, that he was a part of the supernatural world?

  Kate almost fainted.

  “Easy, tiger.” Mica put an arm around Kate’s shoulders and held her steady. “A fan, I take?”

  Blinking away her lightheadedness, Kate stared at the man on the couch. “Is that really…”

  “That really is,” Wertz said.

  Romeo Kress smiled. He gestured to a matching chair of candy red that looked like it could fit right in at an old 1950s diner. “Please have a seat.” His voice held that signature rumble that had delivered so many wicked lines.

  Kate drifted over to the chair as if walking through a dream. She sat on the edge, folded her hands in her lap, and leaned forward to give her host a long look. She felt the dumb grin pinching at her cheeks and could do nothing about it. “What in the world do you have to do with any of this?”

  “What a question,” he said and raised his eyebrows. “All depends on what you mean by ‘this.’”

  Kate waved a hand at Mica and Wertz. “Them. The supernatural stuff. My daughter. Craig. Any of it.”

  “Well, the supernatural stuff, as you put it, I don’t have much choice with, seeing as I’m a card carrying member.”

  “You’re a…?”

  “Mortals don’t have a mythical counterpart for me. Much as I’ve searched the globe, I believe I’m the only of my kind to find myself on this mortal plane.”

  “You look human.”

  He hitched a shoulder. “So does Wertz.”

  “Yeah, but he’s—”

  “Careful,” Wertz warned. “I’m sensitive about my size.”

  “Mica looks like an average mortal, too,” Kress said.

  “Barring her poor sense of style.” Wertz waggled his eyebrows.

  Mica gave him another nudge with her foot, sending him stumbling into the ogre pillar.

  “Many beings from beyond the curtain share mortal features,” Kress continued, clearly used to and unfazed by this duo’s antics. “After all, in the grand scheme, we are all related.”

  “What grand scheme?” Kate asked.

  He waved a dismissive hand. “Bah, who wants to get philosophical at a time like this? We have more important things to tend to.”

  Kate felt a twinge in her chest. “Does that mean you’re finally going to tell me what you guys are all about? And how to find Jessie?”

  “Yes and yes. First, some background on us. My wealth from making films has allowed me a great deal of resources. Ever since finding myself on the mortal plane, I’ve wanted to know more about how this dimension fits in with the others. How a being from a parallel world can suddenly find themselves outside of their own realm.” He hung his head and smirked. “Looks like we’re going to get philosophical after all.”

  “I don’t understand any of this. Craig tried to tell me some, but he always seemed skeptical of his own explanations. You…people…supernatural people…beings…don’t come from our world?”

  Mica and Wertz stood like a pair of guards where they had entered this section of the penthouse. Kate supposed that’s exactly what they were, too, for the moment. As if they expected she might try to run for it. In the meantime, their presence, along with Kress’s, made Kate the only mortal in the room and outnumbered three-to-one. It made her self-conscious about how to address their kind.

  No one appeared bothered by her awkward address, though. Kress crossed his legs and rested his arms on the couch-back again—relaxed, unworried. “That’s the trick question everyone wants the answer to. The truth is, our planes have cross-pollinated enough that it doesn’t matter who is from where originally. An easy example is the vampire. Many vampires seen today—”

  “If you see ‘em before they see you,” Mica interjected.

  “—were born here on the mortal plane. Actually, I’d say most.”

  “But why did you come here in the first place? And how?”

  “It’s different for every case. Some were summoned by mortals who thought they could control the inhabitants of other worlds. Some of us slipped through natural tears between worlds. Still others came here on a pilgrimage of their own making, each with its own design.”

  Interesting information, but Kate couldn’t see how it mattered. It brought her no closer to finding Jessie. And it didn’t cover the original question about who these people were and what they wanted with her daughter.
/>   “Tell me why you brought me here.”

  “We are looking for your daughter and Craig Lockman.”

  “Why?”

  “Because they are key in rebalancing this plane.”

  “Rebalancing?”

  “Another fancy word,” Mica said, looking like she wanted to spit. “Means there’s too many of us here.”

  “Too many supernatural people,” Kate said.

  “As I suggested, some cross-over between worlds is natural, unavoidable, and mostly harmless. But in the last decade or so an expanded era of invasion has reigned.”

  “That includes you, doesn’t it? I mean, no offense, but aren’t you part of that invasion?”

  Kress uncrossed and recrossed his legs. He laced his fingers together across his knee. “That’s right.”

  “But if I’m reading you right, you guys want to stop that invasion.”

  “Not just stop it,” Kress said. “Reverse it.”

  “Including yourselves?”

  “Eventually, yes.”

  “But if you’re part of the problem, why do you care?”

  Wertz grunted. “You think we want to be here? You think I like hearing cracks about my size and my gardening skills every damn time I have to deal with a mortal?”

  “It’s simple.” Kress shrugged. “We want to go home.”

  “How does this tie in with Jess?”

  “Your daughter is referred to by several groups of supernaturals as the Chosen One. Not all agree on exactly what she’s been chosen for. But it is my belief,” he looked up at his companions, “our belief that she can bring about what some have called The Return.”

  Contemplating that made Kate a little dizzy. “Why Jessie?”

  “Destiny does not deal in whys.”

  “This…Return? How does that work? You all just disappear and end up back home?”

  “Wish I knew,” Kress said, “though I doubt it will be that easy.”

  Something occurred to Kate. “The ghost. Thom. He said Jess and Craig were about to end the mortal world or something like that.”

  For the first time since she sat down with him, Kress hesitated. His gaze shifted to his companions as if looking for backup. Then he looked back to Kate with some of the color leached from his face. “Why did Lockman take your daughter and send you away?”