Dark Requiem (The Darkling Trilogy, Book 3)

by A. D. Koboah

  I forced myself to my feet. The first thing I had to do was book a flight out of New York. My final destination was the mansion in Louisiana, but first I had to get to Hattiesburg, Mississippi. Once I had done what I needed to do in Mississippi, I could go to Louisiana and Avery.

  I glanced around my room, searching for my phone amongst the clothes littering the bed and floor. I caught sight of something just as I saw my handbag at the foot of the bed.

  I gasped and a chill ran through me.

  My hair.

  I stared at my reflection in the mirror opposite the bed. It was a ragged mess. I couldn’t go and find Avery again with my hair looking like this.

  I retrieved my phone and called my hairdresser’s private cell number.

  When she picked up I didn’t let her speak.

  “Toni, I need you to be at my apartment to weave my hair in the next hour.”

  “Dallas? What—?”

  “One hour, Toni.”

  I hung up. After another glance in the mirror, I searched through my contact list for my mother’s make-up artist.

  My thoughts were on the moment I walked away from Avery, leaving him alone in the clearing whilst dusk crouched all around him.

  I had forgotten him.

  Tears filled my eyes once more.

  ***

  It was almost eight p.m. and my cab had just driven away, leaving me some distance from a single storey house deep in Hattiesburg, Mississippi under an ochre sky marbled with yellow threads of light. Knee-high grass devoured the property. Three more oaks cast a fugitive gloom about me and at first obscured the filth caking the windows of the house. Greying wood peeked between strips of curling white paint, weathered and bristling with splinters. A forlorn breeze whistled between the floorboards.

  Anxiety sat cold and clammy in the pit of my stomach.

  What if this didn’t work?

  I pictured Avery as I had seen him last and my resolve strengthened.

  It had to work. Too much depended on it. I didn’t remember much of the dream that led me here, only the brown mare and the chapel, but I knew this was where I needed to be.

  The shack appeared to be empty, but I could feel his presence, a dull ebb of hostile energy, emanating from inside. It was only a matter of time before he awoke and sensed my presence. Next to me was a pink Louis Vuitton luggage set. My freshly done hair hung down my back in dark, glistening waves. My make-up was flawless. The cute burnt orange Versace dress I wore clung to my body as if it had been made especially for me, revealing long, sleek, dark legs that would make even Naomi Campbell jealous.

  I looked damned good.

  When I finally got to Louisiana there was no way Avery would be able to resist me. Dolce & Gabbana sun glasses and orange Jimmy Choo’s completed the look.

  I tapped my foot impatiently, wondering when the hell the being in the shack was going to wake up.

  I smoothed my hand down the front of my dress, admiring my perfectly manicured nails.

  Damn, I actually couldn’t believe how good I looked.

  I glanced up at the shack, thinking I might have to actually wade through the grass—and God only knows what else—to go and knock on the door, when I felt a tightening of the energy from within.

  He was coming.

  I could feel him honing in on me and gathering his power to draw near. He would soon be here and standing behind me any second...

  ...Now!

  I spun around. “Hold it right there!”

  A black male dressed in jeans, a grey T-shirt and brown leather jacket stood before me. His deep set, piercing, dark eyes widened with surprise and then narrowed. There was no mistaking the menace in his eyes or in the slight sneer around his generous mouth when he spoke.

  “You must be Dallas Marshall. Maryse’s little psychic friend.”

  I appraised him for a few moments, admiring his cool, ebony complexion, clean shaven head and high cheekbones that made him look like a statue of an ancient pharaoh. Were all vampires good looking?

  “No.”

  He stepped forward, something which made me extremely nervous because I could feel anger pulsing behind that sneer.

  “But I suppose one must be able to stand out in a crowd, so to speak, to be noticed by a vampire. Normally it’s an exceptionally handsome face, such as my own.” He gave a little self-deprecating chuckle. “But it can be intellect or some other unique quality that will capture a vampire’s interest and make them turn you into what they are.”

  He took another step closer.

  “I don’t suppose you came in search of us to listen to me talk about such things, did you, my dear?”

  “No.” I cleared my throat, jutting my chin out. I can’t let him see how scared I am.

  He smiled almost derisively and arched an eyebrow. “Ah, but I can see and hear—you're scared—and you should be.”

  The last few words were uttered so low I almost didn’t hear them. He took a few steps closer, and when he was at arm’s length, I placed my hand on his chest.

  “Stop right there!”

  I brought an image of Avery standing in the clearing under the trees, suppressed anger darkening his vivid, blue eyes to a slate blue. I held it in my mind for him to see.

  “Don’t get any funny ideas. He knows I’m here and if you do anything to me he’ll kill you.”

  He rolled his eyes. Placing his hands behind his back, he walked slowly in a circle around me.

  “Ah, yes. Him. Of all the people Maryse could have chosen to try and feed on that night, she had to make the mistake of choosing you. Your friend gave her quite a scare. Do you know he stalked her for nearly a week after that little encounter by your car? I suppose he wanted to let us, and every other vampire we came across, know that the Marshalls are, and always will be, off the menu. And it worked. It worked so well we were too scared to continue staying at the home of a wealthy new acquaintance of ours. So here we are in this hovel you see.”

  He came to stand before me again.

  “He is the oldest vampire either of us has come across so far. And he is far stronger than us. But that doesn’t mean I won’t kill you.”

  In a flash he closed the space between us. I could only peer up at him, frightened by that small demonstration of his preternatural speed, but I wasn’t about to back down. Too much depended on this.

  “I have a proposition for you,” I blurted out. “I want you to turn me into a vampire.”

  It was as if he hadn’t heard me. He took my sunglasses off my face and hooked them on the front of my dress. Then he lightly brushed the hair away from my face and grinned.

  “You have such pretty brown eyes,” he said.

  Curiously, his gaze had been nowhere near my eyes when he said that, but was lingering on my cleavage as he trailed his fingers down my arm to my wrist. One of the rings he was wearing scratched my left wrist when he wrapped his hand around it, but I ignored it.

  “My eyes are up here,” I said, and reached out with my free hand to lift his chin up so I could look into his eyes.

  Before I could even touch him, he caught my hand and pinned it behind my back. His smile vanished and throbbing anger was clearly visible in his eyes.

  “I wouldn’t do that, my dear. You don’t seem to understand you’re way out of your depth here. Seeking out a vampire and offering yourself to him in this way is a stupid thing to do. And it may just cost you your life.”

  He smiled again and abruptly released the hand he had pinned behind my back. He continued to hold on to my wrist.

  “Yes, you have such beautiful brown eyes. They say the eyes are the windows of the soul.” He pulled my hand up to his face and I could not take my eyes away from his. “But I find that blood is the window to the soul. Blood never lies.”

  That was when I saw a small cut on my wrist and blood running down my forearm as he brought my wrist to his mouth. His cool lips closed around the cut, his eyes never leaving mine.

  “St-stop that!” I cri
ed and tried to pull my wrist out of his grasp.

  For a moment he held on and then abruptly released me, letting me take a few steps back. He seemed shocked. His brow was puckered, his gaze intense as he stared at me, clearly unsettled for some reason. He soon regained his composure.

  “Interesting.” He peered at me with shrewd interest. “Very interesting.”

  “Th-that was just...rude.”

  “Rude?”

  “Yes, rude. Cutting and sucking on someone’s arm without even bothering to ask them if they mind first is just rude!”

  He chuckled softly.

  “So did you have a good look into my soul, Shadrach?”

  The laughter abruptly cut away at the fact that I knew his name. He stared at me for a few moments before his lips spread into a smile, though his eyes were hard and mean.

  “I did, as a matter of fact, and it seems you’re a lot more than you appear to be.”

  “Maryse would be appalled at your behaviour,” I said with a calculated smile.

  He laughed. The sound was surprisingly rich and melodic.

  “I doubt Maryse would mind at all considering the trouble your little friend caused us—thanks to you. Who would have known you had such a powerful bodyguard? But I suppose the Marshalls do have everything. Why not their very own vampire?”

  “I wasn’t talking about that Maryse.”

  His eyes narrowed, growing dark with uncertainty.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I was talking about your mama.” My lips curled into a smug smile. “Her spirit is here with us right now. She’s the reason you turned Maryse into a vampire, isn’t she? You just couldn’t bring yourself to kill someone with your mama’s name. That really is so sweet.” There was no denying the mocking edge in my tone.

  He was completely silent. I pressed ahead, trying to capitalise on the vulnerability I saw in his eyes.

  “I told you I have a proposition for you, Shadrach. I want you to turn me into a vampire and in return I’ll give you part of my inheritance and tell you what your mama’s lingering spirit has been trying to say to you all these years. Do we have a deal?”

  He stared at me and it felt like there were millions of icy little fingers grazing my mind as he tried to probe my thoughts and discover what I really knew about his mother. I was prepared this time. I threw up an image of myself when I came out of the shower that morning and briefly caught my reflection in the mirror. Then I threw up another one of the red lacy underwear I had chosen to wear and pictured myself slowly putting it on.

  I immediately felt the pressure of those fingers increase as he tried to ignore the image. So I threw up another one of me with an ex-boyfriend. I pictured us in a room in his Malibu apartment with mirrors on the walls and ceiling. And so the image Shadrach saw was of my reflection in all those mirrors doing things with my casual lover at the time that only a porn star would be proud of.

  Shadrach became completely distracted and I felt the icy fingers loosen their hold until they fell away all together.

  “Do we have a deal?” I asked, offering up the wrist crisscrossed with lines of drying blood up to his face, whilst keeping the image of me and my ex in my mind.

  His lips spread into a grin that was similar to a wild animal baring its teeth.

  “I like you, Dallas. I really do. I genuinely feel quite sad about the fact that I’m going to kill you.”

  I felt the blood drain from my face. I dropped my hand.

  “Okay, if you won’t turn me into a vampire, I’ll find someone who will.” I turned towards my suitcase, but he was already standing by it, holding the handle.

  “I’m afraid it’s too late for that.”

  I took a step back and then turned and ran. I was only able to take one leap forward through the high grass before he appeared before me. I ran straight into his arms which he locked around me.

  I screamed.

  “Stop, stop, please,” I cried. “He’ll kill you and he’ll kill Maryse. Please, let me go!”

  I was crying now, but there was no empathy in his eyes, only the careful scrutiny of a cold-blooded killer.

  “Poor Dallas.” He drew me closer, one hand around my waist, the other tangled in my hair, keeping my head still whilst he trailed his cool lips across my cheek and down to nuzzle my neck. “Your sixth sense is very strong, but it doesn’t tell you everything, does it?”

  He brought his head up to look into my face, the throbbing anger boring into me.

  “You see, it was right when it told you my mother’s name and that she’s the reason I turned Maryse instead of killing her. But it didn’t tell you I killed my mother a few days after I was turned into a vampire and that mentioning her was not a clever thing to have done.”

  “You...you won’t kill me,” I said with a whimper.

  I had seen a rock hidden in the grass a few feet away. If I could somehow trip him up and get my hands on it, maybe I could stun him long enough to get away.

  “I loved my mother and yet I still killed her,” he continued with a faraway look in his eyes. “It’s what vampires do, my dear. We kill people. I’m sorry you’re finding that out the hard way.”

  My fear swelled and blind panic made my knees almost give way beneath me. I focused all my attention on the rock, thinking of how to get to it. To my surprise, I felt a pulse within me at the same time it moved, like someone had nudged it with their foot.

  Hope swelled, sharpening my focus, and as I honed in on that pulse I felt something within me shift, like a lock clicking into place.

  “And I have to say,” Shadrach continued, “you don’t look anywhere near as good as you think you do.”

  My gaze flew away from the rock to stare at him in anger and disbelief. The malevolence had vanished and I saw warmth along with amusement in his eyes.

  That amusement made my anger rise and the pulse turned into a violent tremor. The rock sprung up and flew through the air straight toward Shadrach.

  It would have cracked against his head if he hadn’t plucked it from the air with one hand, his gaze never leaving mine.

  “Telekinesis? Impressive.” He tossed the rock away. “You really are not what you appear to be, but luckily for me, you haven’t learned how to use all your gifts. But thank you for giving me those delectable mental images.” He trailed his fingers down the front of my dress until his hand found its way down to cup my breast. His other hand tugged down on my hair, pulling my head back. “It will make this so much more enjoyable.”

  I looked on in complete terror when I saw his incisors begin to lengthen. He tilted his head back, bared his teeth, and brought his mouth down on my neck.

  Burning pain shot through me. He began to draw in deep mouthfuls of my blood. I trembled and sagged against him.

  Oh my God. What have I done? Avery, Avery. Tears fell down my face. I would never see him again. Avery, Avery...I...

  Shadows pressed in around me. The ochre sky along with the oak trees leaning conspiratorially toward us dipped into darkness and everything ceased to be.

  Chapter 3

  The next thing I remembered was opening my eyes to a dark room. It appeared night had long fallen. I could make out a blurry shape looming over me. A hand gently slapped my cheek.

  “Avery?” I whispered.

  I felt cool skin against my lips and then a hot, viscous liquid.

  “Quickly, Dallas, drink it. I can’t give you too much of my blood so we have to do this quickly.”

  I vaguely recognised the voice, but everything was so confusing. I didn’t know where I was or what had happened. All I could remember was that I was trying to do something important and it involved... Memory crept just out of reach, but I knew I had to drink...

  Blood.

  It was blood I could feel against my lips. Yes, I had to drink his blood.

  I let my lips close around the cool, hard wrist and began to drink. I had expected the slightly salty taste of human blood, but this was different. It was richer,
the taste an unearthly fusion of sweet and savoury that words could grasp at but never hope to describe. I didn’t even need to suck at the wrist because the blood seemed to have a will of its own and forced its way into my mouth and down my throat.

  “There’s a good girl,” Shadrach said. He stroked my cheek.

  I closed my eyes, trying not to choke against the blood entering me: pouring down my throat and invading all of me as it reached out unnatural tentacles as far as my fingertips.

  My mind was instantly flooded with images. So many images of women of different races, shapes and ages. There had to be thousands of them, each in varying stages of undress or in the sexual act. The link in this chain of seemingly endless women was Shadrach. He ardently, skilfully and ravenously copulated with them, his sexual appetite insatiable, leaving them crying out from the force of their orgasms. After it was done, when he had ascended that peak, the fall back was always a brutal one. He always felt the same, whether he was on his feet, his back or lying on whichever woman lay quivering against him. All he felt was the emptiness that had consumed his soul, the meaninglessness of his existence a painful shock sending him searching for the next conquest, and that ride toward the peak that always preceded such a brutal fall.

  Beneath all those images was a memory of a short, plump woman whose face was similar to his but held a kindness and warmth his lacked. In one image her face loomed over his. Then he was up in the air in her arms as she swung him around, his laughter spilling from him in childish gurgles. I saw her again with her face drawn, dark circles under her eyes as she tucked a blanket around him in the back seat of a car where they would be spending the night. There was another image of a woman with long braids. She lay in a hospital bed, exhausted, her face greasy with sweat. A baby squealed at her chest. She looked up at Shadrach with love in her eyes when he picked up the baby and cradled it in his arms. Another fleeting one was of them together in the park on a brilliant sunlit afternoon. He sat on a bench lazily drinking a can of Coke as he watched the little boy clamber up and then down a slide.