Brush of Darkness

by Allison Pang

  Katy tilted her head up to look at him and started to struggle, her mouth working frantically at her gag. He clamped down hard on her shoulders.

  “That’s enough,” I snapped, pushing him away. “Let her go.”

  Surprisingly, he did. I caught Katy before she fell, the two of us sinking to the ground. I brushed back the hair from her forehead and slid the gag away. “You okay?”

  She nodded, her eyes suddenly dull. She was going into shock. I gave the daemon a hard look. “You guys are assholes.”

  He shrugged. “Yeah, but what are you gonna do?”

  A shadow slipped past the corner of my eye. I stiffened and then forced myself to relax. Friend or foe, I wasn’t sure.

  Azule had seen it too and he nudged the others. “Wolves,” he hissed. I perked up at this, craning my head for a better look, but the creature was gone.

  “This is the Borderlands. Why wouldn’t there be wolves?” Cigarette mashed the stub out with his foot. “Are we about ready to do this?”

  I shared a glance with Katy and she shook her head at me. “Let her go—unharmed—and I’ll willingly come with you.” Even as the words left my mouth, I wondered how true they were. After all, my body was still lying in bed in my apartment. However real things seemed, I couldn’t actually be hurt here, could I?

  Suddenly, golden eyes gleamed out from the shadows behind the daemons. They glittered like hard drops of amber—wolf eyes. One of them dropped into a slow, lazy wink, and then I saw a mouth parting into a familiar canine grin.

  Relief flooded my limbs. Surely if Brandon were here, that would mean Brystion and Robert couldn’t be too far behind. I resisted the urge to look around, instead leaned in close to Katy.

  “Brandon,” I breathed in her ear. She jerked back and I gestured at her to be quiet.

  The daemons were still arguing among themselves. “Get ready to run,” I whispered. Katy nodded as I slid into a crouch. I glanced back at where I’d seen the wolf, but he was gone again. And then a howl sounded through the valley, echoed by the mournful shiver of a bow being drawn over the strings of a violin.

  Startled, I listened as the eerie duet swept over us, while the daemons froze in place. “Melanie,” I murmured.

  She emerged from the shadow of the trees, the notes spilling from her instrument in a flurry of silver sparkles. The violin glowed, a heady halo of mist and light enveloping it as she played.

  “Gentlemen,” she said, nodding at me with a toss of her flame-gold hair. “I believe you are late.”

  “I told you she wouldn’t come alone,” Hzule snapped, glaring at me. “Late for what?”

  “Your ass-kicking,” Robert rumbled from above, gliding down to separate us from the daemons. I glanced past him, Brystion’s name on my tongue, but one look at the angel’s suddenly unsheathed sword had me swallowing my questions. This is what he did, after all.

  Cigarette pursed his mouth as though he were going to say something else. In the end, he shrugged. “Oh, fuck it.” He snapped his fingers, a puff of fetid smoke exploding from his palm. The angel moved forward, and I shoved Katy out of the way, grunting as a smaller, blue daemon grabbed the back of my head.

  The sound of a sword slicing into something meaty rushed by me, followed by a gurgling moan. A large, and furry, and growling mass bounded into the fray—Brandon to the rescue.

  “Lok’tar ogar!” The daemon holding me pulled my head back, exposing my throat.

  “Victory or death,” I retorted at my captor hoarsely. “For the Horde. And for the record, shouting World of Warcraft battle cries kind of kills the whole ‘imminent death’ expectation.”

  The daemon paused. “What server are you on?” he demanded.

  “Blackhand.”

  “Righteous. Guild?”

  I couldn’t imagine what the hell that mattered at this point, but it was keeping me alive so that was a bonus. I’d gladly spit out the rest of my Warcraft stats if it bought me a few more minutes. “Yeah,” I coughed. “ElfhunterBitches.”

  He blinked and then grinned, tapping himself on the chest. “No shit. I’m TartBarbie. Undead DeathKnight.”

  I stared at him. “TB? Seriously? I’m Baconator. Blelf Warlock. You did a hell of a job tanking on that raid the other night.”

  “Yeah, I am pretty awesome.” He glanced over his shoulder, releasing me. “Look, if I’d known it was you, I’d never have agreed to this. Go on.” He nudged me with a leather boot. “I’ll tell them you got away.”

  I didn’t have to be told twice. “Thanks,” I said softly. “I’ll make it up to you, somehow.”

  “No worries.” He winked. “See you next Thursday.”

  I took off toward another copse of trees. I wasn’t prepared to fight anything, and until the dust settled a bit I couldn’t see the wisdom of running back into it just to get my head snicker-snakked off. I circled as quietly as I could, spying Katy crawling out of the action, arms draped across Brandon’s back. I sighed. One thing taken care of anyway. Melanie was still wrapped up in the dust, but her music hadn’t stopped.

  “But dude, she’s a guildie! I couldn’t just kill her for reals.” My daemon friend’s voice cut off with a grunt.

  Shit. Time to go. I ducked behind an outcropping of boulders, hands scraping over the moss. And then I was faceplanting into the leaves as Hzule bulldozed into me. Tiny pinpricks needled into my arms, holding me immobile.

  “Let me go,” I snarled, kicking him in the shins.

  “It’s too late for that. I’ve had enough of your bullshit. Fuck the money.” His scaled lips pulled back in a mocking rictus of a grin. “Shall I be sporting, little rabbit? Give you a ten-second head start?”

  “Fucking bastard,” I slurred, my mouth suddenly feeling stuffed with cotton.

  “Oh, you say the nicest things,” he burbled. He lowered his face to mine in the mocking pretense of a kiss, one clawed hand fumbling at the waistband of my jeans. “You won’t feel a thing.”

  “No, but you will,” Brystion’s voice declared from behind us. Hzule shoved me away, and I stumbled, crying out as my head slammed into a rock. Dizzy, I tried to get up to avoid being trampled. My vision began to blur.

  “She’s mine,” Ion snarled, his form shifting slightly into something dark and then back again. I blinked rapidly, cursing at my inability to focus. They circled me, somehow ending up on the ground with the incubus pounding the other daemon’s face.

  “Not for long,” Hzule cackled. “He’ll see to—” His words ended with a burbling chuckle as Ion crushed his windpipe. A wet, guttural sound and then all was still.

  My eyes rolled back as my limbs started twitching violently. I wondered if my real body was seizing or if this was a side effect of being on the CrossRoads with my Shadow Self.

  “I’ve got you.” Brystion wrapped his arms around my shoulders and pulled me tight, holding me as the tremors built up and then dissipated. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.

  I turned toward him, the haze starting to lift. My eyes widened at his appearance. “Jesus Christ, Brystion. Did it do that to you?” Dark purple blotches webbed across his cheekbone, blood vessels shattered against the delicate paleness of his skin.

  He squinted one eye at me, an amused gleam residing there despite the heavy, swollen lids. “No—well, not all of it. I took him by surprise, so the most he got was this slash on my forearm.” He raised it closer to my face and I winced at the deep gouge bleeding openly over his flesh. It dripped, red and vibrant, onto my shirt. “As for the rest of it?” He smiled ironically. “Let’s just say that pindancer of Moira’s packs a wicked punch when he wants to.”

  “He beat you?” Cold rage swirled through my veins, my own plight suddenly forgotten.

  “If you want to call it that,” Brystion snorted, rubbing his wrists. They were red and chafed—rope burns. “That’s why it took me so long to find you. I felt you as soon as you reached the CrossRoads, but . . .” He shrugged, his gaze rueful. “Robert took a little convincing. By w
ay of a certain werewolf and violinist, I might add.”

  I eyed him dubiously, my fingers tracing the still-swelling lump at the base of his chin. “We need to get you to a doctor or something—whatever they have here.”

  He shook his head, getting to his feet. “There’s no time for that. The others are waiting for us.”

  “I didn’t realize Melanie and Brandon were coming too. I thought it would just be you and Robert,” I said, wincing as I stepped on a jagged rock. The soles of my feet started to sting.

  “Once I figured out where you were, Melanie told Brandon we’d found Katy, and he Contracted her to make the Door.” He snorted. “He doesn’t have the angel’s gift for violence, but there’s still something rather convincing about a mouth full of teeth that gets a man to think things through.”

  “Brandon bit Robert?”

  “Just a little. It seemed to help.” Brystion coughed something rude into his sleeve.

  “And Katy?”

  “See for yourself,” he said, smiling gently as he pushed back an overhanging branch, revealing the clearing. Two daemons lay dead in a pool of blood and scales; there was no sign of TartBarbie. I hoped he’d gotten away. The brimstone scent still hung heavy in the air, but that too was fading. Katy crouched beside Brandon, leaning into his furry shoulder.

  “Abby?” Melanie swept past Robert and Brandon and threw her arms around me. She punched me hard in the shoulder, carefully maneuvering her bow away from the blood on my sleeve. “Next time just call me, you idiot.” Behind her, the angel loomed, displeasure filling his eyes.

  “I’m sorry. They said they’d kill her if I brought anyone else.” I brushed my fingers over my shirt as though I might wipe away the blood. “It’s not mine,” I said quickly when his eyes narrowed.

  “Stupid thing to do,” Robert said, wiping his sword clean on the grass. “Especially after everything we discussed this afternoon.”

  “I find I remember things better when I’m not getting my head slammed into walls, you know.” I knelt down beside Katy. Brandon’s tongue lolled at me, a wolf’s laugh. “You okay?”

  “Yeah.” She gave me a small smile. “But if you don’t mind, I think I’d like to go home. My mom is going to shit a bird if I don’t get in before curfew.”

  I resisted the urge to say I told you so. After all, what good would it do? She was here, albeit in a way she’d probably rather not repeat, and there was no closing the jar now. Melanie’s gaze darted between Brystion and Robert. Her eyes met mine and she nodded, raising her bow to the violin. “That’s an excellent idea, Katy. I think the Hallows would be a good place to land, don’t you?”

  “Ah, what about me?” I said suddenly. “I mean, technically I think I’m still asleep in bed.”

  Brystion froze, staring at me. “You’re where?”

  “Asleep. I can’t really travel through the Doors directly and I couldn’t think of any other way to get here—”

  “Stupid girl,” he snarled. “No, you can’t go back through the Door.”

  “Why are you getting mad at me? You’re the one who showed me how to do it.”

  “Maybe you two would like to clue the rest of us in on the situation?” Robert said, sheathing his sword. “We’re wasting time.”

  “I told you before,” Brystion snapped at the angel. “She’s a Dreamer. An untrained Dreamer. She managed to break through her dreams directly into the CrossRoads.”

  “That’s not possible,” Robert scoffed, but there was doubt tingeing the words.

  “Actually,” Brystion said. “It is. Dreamers can weave their dreams into reality.” His gaze met mine, suddenly dark and unreadable. “Or at least their version of it.”

  “Huh?” Melanie blinked at me. At least I wasn’t the only one who was out of the loop.

  “It’s a Shadow Self,” the incubus sighed. “But real enough, for all that. If she dies here, she dies there. But in either case, her Shadow Self won’t survive the transition to the mortal world.”

  I shivered. “Well, that settles that, then. How do I get back?”

  “I’ll have to take you back to the Dreaming.” he said. “Though we’ll need to get closer to the CrossRoads. I don’t think I can do it from the Borderlands.”

  “You’re assuming I’ll let you do it at all,” Robert drawled.

  Melanie rolled her eyes. “Don’t be such an ass, Robert. Who else is going to do it?” She gave me a sour look. “Though if you’d just said something . . .”

  Robert suddenly looked very tired. Moira’s disappearance was clearly taking a heavier toll on him than he’d let on. “Fine. I need to report this anyway, and Katy should get home. But you two had better show up tomorrow at the Judgment Hall for the Hearing.” He fixed his gaze directly on Brystion. “I entrust her to your protection,” he muttered softly. “Don’t make me regret it.”

  The incubus raised a hand to his heart. “On my honor,” he said, his mien suddenly formal.

  “For all it’s worth,” Robert snorted dryly. “Okay, let’s get out of here.” He gestured to Melanie, who began to play, the air shimmering with fresh power. Within moments, a silver outline shone between the edges of two trees. Helping Katy to her feet, Robert supported her as he led her through the Doorway, followed closely by the wary werewolf. Melanie mouthed a good-bye to me, tipping her head at both of us before she slid through the portal. Her music faded away along with the Door.

  “Are you ready?” Brystion looped the fingers of his good hand through mine and we set off through the underbrush. He peered upward through the trees, eyes darting into the dimly lit sky as though seeing something I couldn’t. “I’m not going to question your methods,” he said finally, “but why did you leave the road?”

  My face flushed. “I didn’t mean to. The road just ended, and I didn’t know which way to go. I tried to do what you said before and feel my way through.”

  His face softened. “You couldn’t have known.” We ducked under a rocky overhang, a tiny rivulet of crystalline water flowing down its face. “The OtherFolk use the Roads to get to different places, different worlds or planes of existence, even. When the road ends suddenly like that, it means you’ve come to a Doorway.”

  “I didn’t see a Doorway. The road just ended.”

  Brystion held up a fallen tree branch to allow me to walk under it. “It happens that way. That’s why you need to be so careful. You fall off the road or take a wrong turn and there’s no telling where you’ll end up. As places go, I suppose this one wasn’t too bad.”

  “Except for the daemons,” I added wryly. “Although I wish I’d had shoes with me. I didn’t realize I was going to be hiking through the woods.” I winced as I narrowly sidestepped something blue and thorny.

  “You want me to carry you?” He waggled his eyebrows at me, his expression bordering on a leer.

  I snorted. “Only if you’re dying to. I’m a little wobbly, but I think I can manage.”

  “Mmmm . . . well, honestly, I was just looking for an excuse to grope your ass anyway.” He winked, scooping me up. “God knows I could use the pick-me-up.”

  “I’ll bet.” I wanted to protest, but instead my arms slid around his neck. Might as well enjoy the ride. “That’s a hell of a shiner,” I said, pointing to his eye.

  “It’ll heal faster when I can feed.” His hands tightened on my hips, but it wasn’t suggestive, just gently questioning. “And I will have to.” He nuzzled my ear. “Soon. I used up the last of my power to find you. I won’t be able to get back to your world without it. Of course, that’s assuming I even want to go back,” he said dryly. “Things seem to be heating up in a rather uncomfortable way.”

  “I almost forgot about the feeding thing,” I said, realizing it was true. “Between Katy and everything else. Not that I’m backing out.” I turned his head toward me so I could catch his gaze, my tone serious. “I keep my promises.”

  The incubus’s nostrils flared. “I know,” he said softly. “Let’s go.”


  “Are we close enough?”

  “Yes,” he whispered, his mouth lowering. My eyes closed at the brush of his lips and the taste of his tongue as it slipped past mine. He shifted and the CrossRoads fell away into the darkness.

  My vision rippled as the CrossRoads looped into the darkness like a silver ribbon. Something fluttered in the distance, my nightmares battering against the edges of my mind with their ravenous mouths. I closed my eyes and pressed my face into Brystion’s shoulder. His throat rumbled, a questioning hum vibrating against my cheek.

  Immediately, the shadows receded; relief swept through me with an almost violent twitch. I watched as a cocoon of light enveloped us, warding off the gloom. “What’s that?” I pointed to the shimmering glow that webbed its way in pulsing beams around us. The magical illumination bled across his face, causing his swollen bruises to shine in stark relief against his skin.

  “A shield of sorts. It will keep the nightmares at bay for a little while.”

  “Can you afford to do that? I thought you were running out of energy.”

  “Nearly,” he conceded. “There’s a bit left in reserve—enough to get us to your Heart, anyway.”

  “Small favors.”

  He shifted his hands, relaxing his fingers so that my weight was comfortably supported. “I’m going to be fairly weak when we get there, so just bear with me. Once I get my strength back, we’ll figure out the rest of it.” He nuzzled my ear gently. “And keep in mind that I’m going to be horrendously jealous of your time, Abby.”

  I flushed like a schoolgirl. Christ, all I needed was a short skirt and pigtails and my transformation into bumbling idiot would be complete. I peered out past the ambient cocoon. The darkness was fading, leaving us in a cold, gray fog.

  “First things first,” I said. The mist was shedding around us, sloughing away like the fine tufts of a dandelion’s late bloom. “‘Anyone lived in a pretty how town, with up so floating many bells down,’” I quoted, glancing down to see the house. We hovered above it for a moment, and then the roof grew larger, expanding as we descended. “There’s more here now.” I gestured at the edges of the yard. And there was. Where before the clearing had been empty, now the beginnings of what looked to be wild rosebushes sprouted up between towering willow trees.