No, too much evidence pointed toward Sebastian telling her the truth.
A deep shiver wracked Serenity’s whole body and her eyes flooded with tears once again. To think such a possibility might be true made her want to reach inside her chest and rip out her own heart.
Leaving her daughter sleeping, Serenity went back into the kitchen and peered out on the empty street. There was no sign of Sebastian.
Where had he gone?
Was he still out there somewhere, watching the house, but staying out of sight? She desperately hoped he was. At least knowing Sebastian might be close brought her some kind of comfort. If what Sebastian said was the truth—and what reason would he have to lie to her—then her worst nightmare lurked in the dark somewhere, tracking her down. She’d never felt so vulnerable, so exposed. Her locked windows and doors were such feeble protection against the horror hunting her.
Serenity reached out to the window and pulled down the blind. The wooden slats came down with a rattle, shutting out the world.
Only one other person existed in this world that she trusted. Picking up the phone, she dialed James’s number. As the phone started to ring she glanced up at the kitchen clock hanging above the sink and realized it was past midnight. She went to press the button to hang up the phone when a sleepy male voice answered.
“Hello?”
“James?” She choked back a sob as she said his name.
“Serenity?” He immediately sounded awake. “What’s the matter? What’s happened?”
“He’s back, James. Elizabeth’s father is back.”
“Who?” he said, startled. “Jackson?”
“No,” she said, and hesitated as she reconsidered. “Well, yes, Jackson is back but I don’t mean him. Jackson isn’t Elizabeth’s father.” She took a deep breath. She’d never spoken those words out loud and doing so made her dizzy. She and James never discussed what happened to them more than four years ago. After the final conversation on the pier, they never again talked about what Madeline had been.
“You remember that night on the pier?”
He paused, and said, “Yes, of course.”
“You remember what I told you about the woman, the one you shot at, the one who attacked you?”
“Yes,” he said again, this time more caution in his tone.
“Elizabeth’s father was the same as her, James.”
Silence echoed down the end of the phone. She was asking him to believe a lot, asking him to recall painful memories, memories he’d probably blocked out by now.
“The man they said you stayed with at the hotel,” he said, finally, remembering.
“Yes. He was trying to protect me from her.”
“He didn’t do a very good job,” James snapped.
Now Serenity fell silent. Despite everything, she still couldn’t help but want to defend Sebastian. James shouldn’t judge him. Yet here she was, in trouble once more, and the first person she thought to call was James. He had a right to be angry; she’d made this his problem.
“I’m sorry, James. I shouldn’t have called you.”
Serenity had overstepped the line. James wasn’t her husband. He had his own family and her presence in their lives might be putting them in danger. She never wanted to put them in harm’s way. The thought of the cherubic Noah and Amy being hurt because of her was unthinkable.
“Serenity, wait. I didn’t mean anything.”
“I understand. It’s a lot to take in.”
“I don’t know what you want me to do?”
She sighed. “That’s just it, you can’t do anything. I don’t expect you to do anything.”
Loneliness pressed down around her. Had she been lying to herself this whole time, reveling in her independence yet relying on the support of James and his family? She’d taken him for granted and his solid, stable presence in her life gave her what she needed without demanding anything in return. Now it was her turn to help him. She needed to set him free from their friendship, from whatever misguided responsibility he thought he owed her.
She couldn’t tell James about Jackson, about what Sebastian said he’d become. This wasn’t James’s fight. She’d gotten him involved the last time and it had almost cost him his life. She refused to make the same mistake again.
Serenity had two options; get away from the city without telling Sebastian where she’d gone and keep Elizabeth a secret, or tell him everything and accept his help.
In spite of the anger and fear, she couldn’t help the hope in her heart at the thought of Sebastian being near. Would he hurt her again? Probably. With the exception of Elizabeth, nothing had changed. They were still the same people they had been four years ago, but she couldn’t help how she felt. Maybe her emotions made her weak, but she wanted him to protect her, wanted to be safe and secure again.
Her love for Sebastian still existed. She’d spent so many nights dreaming of him and now he was back, wanting to help her. She only needed to let him.
Serenity didn’t want to live her life in fear again.
The night stretched ahead of her, the morning a distant point that seemed would never come. Yet, what had Sebastian said? Jackson could walk in the light. He wasn’t like Sebastian or Madeline, but something different. She shouldn’t be scared of the dark, she realized. At night, at least, Sebastian was out there somewhere; she wasn’t alone. If Sebastian was right, she should be frightened of the day.
In the daylight, she was on her own.
Chapter Eleven
Finally, it had found her.
After months of growing, changing, re-building its shattered mind, the creature located the person it searched for: Serenity. It had gotten so close, close enough to sneak out its rancid tongue and lick her face. Oh, how it enjoyed the scent of fear seeping from her skin. The smell brought back so many memories. It had not lost the skills of the man it once was—those of manipulation, confusion, torture.
The creature would not feed on this one. Even a slow and agonizing death would be too good for Serenity. No, it would break her. It would take everything she held dear and rip everything away. It would take her sanity and finally, when she had nothing left, it would consume her.
After spending almost two nights in the city, the creature returned back to its hole in the forest, muscles screaming in pain. The need to go back to ground was nearly as strong as the hunger plaguing it’s every moment. The scent of earthy darkness, the dirt encasing every side, gave it comfort. Even the memory of the grainy earth on its tongue made it yearn with longing, like a child craving the comfort of a much loved blanket or well-worn toy. Only in the total darkness beneath ground did it truly feel at peace. Without taking the time to rest, the pain grew and grew, threatening to crowd out its recently acquired thoughts and memories. It didn’t want to go back to the agonizing nothingness of when it had first emerged.
The creature needed to stay focused on the man it had once been and the revenge it sought, the sole purpose to its existence.
Yet something gave it cause to pause upon its return, a strange scent around its resting place. The odor was not that of a human nor an animal, but something different, something unrecognizable. However, the pain surrounding the creature did not allow it the time to ponder the reason for the change.
Relieved to be back, the creature settled back in the hole and pulled the dirt in over itself. Nestled within the earthen womb, it slept, repairing its tortured body and broken mind.
The thing still needed to feed; always, an all-consuming hunger. An incredible amount of strength had been needed not to reach out and clamp its teeth into Serenity’s sweet, pale throat. It had always prided itself on restraint, on dragging out her torture so she never knew where the next blow was coming from. Her abuse had always been about the pleasure of her pain, seeing the fear in her eyes, making her cower. It never forgot the satisfaction of having the power to make her react in such a way.
It swiped its fat, bloated tongue across razor sharp teeth.
How it relished in its new found strength. Its muscles burned with pent-up energy. It wanted to use its power—run and jump, rip and tear. It wanted to tear stone apart with its bare hands and run across continents. Though animalistic in its strength and instincts, its mind grew sharper. It still contained all of the cunning and brutality of the man it had once been; only now the bitterness of revenge encompassed every cell.
The thought occurred that perhaps it should thank Serenity. Its body was so much better before, but then it remembered Serenity had not done this, but the other one, the one with fiery hair. It only experienced brief flashes of memory of the redhead, explosions of agonizing pain. She’d brought him back from nothingness. She fed him, nurtured him, and then one day she had not returned and he started to decline, slipping back into the void.
Serenity took its life. The redhead gave it back again.
The creature knew where she worked now; the couple he’d murdered had given him the information. Frustrated they’d been unable to supply him with a home address, he’d torn through the house, searching for contracts that might contain Serenity’s address. The hunt had been unsuccessful. Perhaps if given more time, he’d have found what he wanted, but the police sirens had cut through the night, forcing him to abandon his search.
Such a minor setback was of no concern. It enjoyed the chase and intended to continue to enjoy every minute of the torture it planned for her. Tasting Serenity’s fear was the point of its existence, just as it had been as a man. There was no point in rushing the sweet pleasure of revenge.
Still, it needed to find out where she lived.
The creature wanted to think of itself as a person again—it deserved that. Though no longer a man, it at least deserved to be a real being. If anything, it was so much more than the man it had once been. It—he—was stronger, faster and crueler. He could take all of the pleasures of life without needing to think about any of the repercussions.
‘He’, yes, ‘he’. The creature was no longer an ‘it’ but an actual being with feelings, however repugnant.
Jackson.
Dawn threatened to break through the night sky. Though he still lay below ground, he sensed the change.
He needed to go back to the city. To find out where Serenity lived he would go back to the place he’d found her yesterday. He had no intention of harming her yet, but finding out where she lived would give him another avenue with which to torture her.
He broke out of the ground and shook the earth from his body like a dog shaking water from its coat. He stretched out his muscles, rippling strength.
A powerful hunger coursed through him, threatening to block out his thoughts. Torn between finding where Serenity lived and finding someone to feed on, he hesitated. If he was in luck, perhaps he could combine the two.
The thought tugged a smile on his face, but to an observer the expression looked more like a snarl.
Jackson took off in a sprint. The speed exhilarated him, almost as though he flew, his feet barely touching the ground. The forest wildlife silenced as he passed, some primitive part sensing something unnatural was near. The only sound was that of branches whipping past his head. Even his feet were silent, touching too lightly and quickly to so much as snap a twig.
All too quickly, he reached the city.
He moved so fast now the humans did not even see him, though they registered his presence. They wrinkled their noses in disgust, or clamped a hand across their mouths. They glanced around, the fear and confusion clear on their faces, but their gaze never settled upon him.
Though early, people still traveled through the city. As Jackson approached Serenity’s place of work he noticed lights on in the building. Cleaners, early shift workers, overly keen executives were all in the office first thing. As the sky grew brighter, the lights extinguished.
Jackson headed back underground, back to the parking lot where he’d encountered Serenity the day before. He felt better beneath ground, in the dark.
He would wait.
It turned out he wouldn’t wait for long.
The black Audi swung into the lot and pulled up in the same space as the day before. Jackson recognized the vehicle as the same one Serenity had gotten into. His jaw clenched in anticipation.
Except Serenity wasn’t in the car.
An older man, at least late fifties, wearing glasses framed by two thick, heavy eyebrows drove now.
The man switched off the car engine, but didn’t get out. Instead, he lifted some paperwork off the passenger seat and began to flip through.
Jackson took his chance. Moving quickly, he opened the passenger door and slid into the seat beside him.
The man’s head jerked up in shock, dropping the papers. They fell to his lap and floated into the foot well.
“Hello,” Jackson rasped. “I think you have information important to me.”
The man’s eyes widened and Jackson watched him trying to figure out where Jackson had come from.
“Who the hell are you?”
Jackson laughed; the sound like gravel against glass.
“An old friend of Serenity’s.”
The man leaned back, breathing only through his mouth to try to escape the stench. “I highly doubt that.”
Jackson tasted the fear seeping from the man’s pores, but the man didn’t try to run. Instead he sat, defiant. The man kept his professionalism despite the circumstances. Jackson admired him for his bravery, but it wouldn’t stop him killing the older man.
“You have information for me. You will tell me about Serenity.”
“I’m not going to tell you anything. Who the hell do you think you are?”
He reached over and took the man’s hand like a lover, drawing it toward him. The man immediately tried to pull away, but Jackson’s strength left no room for maneuvering. The man’s mouth opened and closed in surprise and his eyes brightened with fear. All of a sudden, the knowledge dawned on him that the person, now holding his hand in an ice-cold vice, was not human.
Slowly Jackson lifted the man’s hand, the fingers spread out as though about to make a handprint on the windscreen. Jackson held the palm in front of his face.
“This little piggy went to market…” Jackson growled. As he did so he reached out with his other hand and snapped the man’s little finger at the middle knuckle.
The man screamed—the high-pitched shriek of a rabbit caught in the jaws of a fox. His finger stuck out at an awkward angle, forty-five degrees from the rest of his hand.
“This little piggy…”
“No! No!” the man screamed.
His pleas would never be enough. Jackson was enjoying himself too much.
“This little piggy stayed at home,” he continued and moved to the next finger.
Snap!
The man screamed again, longer and louder. The blood drained from his face and his eyes rolled back in his head.
Jackson frowned. That wouldn’t do. At the least, he needed the man conscious. The second finger now also jutted at an angle, pointing backward, away from the man’s palm. Jackson longed to bite, to sink his teeth into the man’s flesh, but he controlled himself.
“Tell me where Serenity lives.”
His voice brought the man back to consciousness. He caught sight of his mangled hand and began to cry.
“Why are you doing this to me?” he sobbed.
“Tell me where Serenity lives?” Jackson demanded again.
The man’s eyes darted from side to side, never quite resting on Jackson’s face. Was his unwillingness to look at Jackson because the horror of his face was too much, or because he could tell Jackson should not be alive—an abomination of nature? Maybe he feared if he focused too long, his mental health would never survive? Of course the man would not live long enough to need to worry about his state of mind.
He was gibbering now. All professionalism had been forgotten in his fear. “I don’t know! The computer… The office…”
Jackson growled again, a low, th
roaty sound. He hadn’t wanted to go in the building. It was still early, but there were bound to be other people around. Jackson moved fast enough to prevent being seen, but he wouldn’t be able to do so with this screaming, gibbering wreck tucked under his arm.
“Think,” he commanded.
“Oh God…” the man whined. “Please don’t hurt me anymore.”
“Then tell me what I need to know.”
Jackson saw the man’s mind frantically leafing through the information, desperately searching for the one thing he thought might save his life. It was a shame; whatever the man told him would not be enough to let him live. Jackson was hungry and the scent of the man’s fear just made the hunger worse.
A light went on in the man’s eyes.
“Burbank! She lives in Burbank!”
That was enough. He would stalk the district until he happened upon her scent. He would find her.
“Good,” he said, slowly. “Very good.”
He raised the injured hand as though about to kiss it, lifted the man’s wrist to his nose and inhaled deeply, like scenting a perfume sprayed for a lover.
The man watched him in horror. His entire body shook. The motion made his huge eyebrows vibrate, Jackson noted with amusement.
Then he bit.
His sharp teeth sliced through flesh and tendons, crunched through the delicate bones of the wrist. He left a great, gaping hole; most of the man’s inner-forearm now missing. Blood pumped out of the gash like an oil source recently tapped.
The man screamed, and screamed, and screamed.
Jackson put his mouth back down to the wound and slurped and licked, sating his hunger. The man finally fell silent.
The Serenity Series: Box Set: Books 1-3 Page 31