Paranormal After Dark: 20 Paranormal Tales of Demons, Shifters, Werewolves, Vampires, Fae, Witches, Magics, Ghosts and More

by Rebecca Hamilton

  “I came from Sansford, two towns back.”

  “Sansford…. Did you see anything when you passed through there? Or the last town, Hurrow? Lots of police cars or anyone unusual?”

  “Everyone's unusual nowadays.” Her voice was no more than a whisper. “What are you, a cop or something?”

  “Yeah. I mean, no.” He focused back on the road and his voice grew quiet. “I used to be.”

  He urged the car faster. Her weariness settled in. The road blurred, dragging down her thoughts. Her throat was parched and she reached for her bag. The sweet oat biscuits were on top, the bottled water underneath and she reached for them both. She held out one of the biscuits. The edge was broken, but it would still taste the same. “They’re yesterday’s, but they’re still good.”

  He turned toward her. His dark, sunken eyes sparkled under the green dashboard lights and shadowed his unshaven cheeks. Eve felt naked under his intense gaze until he shook his head, turning his attention back to the road. “No, thank you. You need it more than I do.”

  “I’ve got enough for the two of us. Besides, when was the last time you ate?”

  He stilled, his brow furrowed. “Shit, I... I don’t remember.”

  There was something about this man. Something soft underneath his hard exterior that made her want to care for him. She held the food out toward him even though her arm grew tired. “I have more. So, it’s okay.”

  He reached out and took the biscuit. “Thanks.”

  She ate, taking nibbles, listening to him demolish the food in two bites.

  “I haven’t had Anzac’s in ages, especially not homemade ones. They’re good.” Eve handed him another and this time he took it without a fuss. The mere act of sharing food eased the tension between them. “So, where’re you headed?”

  It was a simple question, one asked in polite conversation. Eve would’ve answered, but she didn't know. She hadn't thought that far ahead. Her only focus tonight had been staying alive and getting as far away from Hurrow as possible. “I'm heading for Sandy Point. My... husband’s waiting for me there.”

  “You’d think he’d have driven up here to get you, given your condition and all.”

  Her face grew hot. “Yeah, well... our car broke down and we haven't the money to fix it. He didn't want me to walk, but I need to get there before the baby comes.”

  “Looks like you’re due any day now. Do you know what you’re having?”

  “A boy.” She prayed he was wrong and she wouldn’t deliver this baby until she was somewhere safe. Running from a monster, where would she be safe?

  “You’re safe here, you know. I mean, you look kinda wrung out. So, if you want, you can sleep.”

  He fumbled his words with an awkwardness that made her smile. “Thank you.”

  She rolled up her jacket and placed it under her head and against the door. He never took his eyes off the road, and never looked at her once. But she could tell he was watching her, just like she was watching him. You’re safe here. The echo of his words whispered inside her mind. Somehow, here in this car, with this stranger, safe was exactly how she felt. Eve wound the seat back slightly and adjusted the seatbelt under the swell of her belly before she closed her eyes.

  No monsters came for her this time. No echoes of her own darkness or despair. Only the hum of the motor to soothe her, and the rhythmic sounds of his breathing as Adley sped her away.

  Chapter 14

  Edric

  SOMETHING WAS HAPPENING to Edric, something that’d been slowly changing in the weeks since he lost Mercy and found God. It wasn't the surge of power or the connection he felt when he attached to his new Master. It was something entirely different.

  The cold, empty feeling started when he slid the knife home on his fourth victim. At first he brushed the letdown off, forcing the rush of excitement until he felt the high once more. But his body failed to respond, leaving his flaccid cock cold and lifeless in his hand. His mind argued his impotence was due to the pressure he was under. The constant weight of his new Master’s demands overshadowed the euphoria he once had, dragging him under.

  The void inside didn't ease.

  Instead, the darkness spread like a plague, until he was sure he was dead. The pleasure he once took from watching the moment of death was now nothing but a farce, intent on leaving him as hollow as his victims. To prove his existence, he sliced himself. In the wake of his blade, red drops welled, only to be abandoned when the edges of his flesh knitted themselves back together. He wasn't dead. He was very much alive. Only he didn’t feel alive.

  Edric’s new body no longer needed human functions such as breathing, or eating. His only food was human blood—pure blood, which he was running out of. To continue killing, he needed to remain cloaked in the world in which he once existed, the human world. Even though his new body was faster, stronger—immortal—he still felt cheated of the excitement he craved.

  Until he thought of her.

  The blonde bitch invaded his mind, both while he was awake and when he slept. Her terror and her desire to live was like a living fucking wallpaper inside his head. Over and over, he saw her ram the wooden shard into Mercy's chest. The hurt, the anger, was fuel to his fire. He wanted to see that look again, that moment of pure barbarity, when the blonde bitch snarled and screamed with rage. He wanted to hold her face in his hands and feel her lips around his cock. He wanted to plunge into her with his body as well as his knife. And this desire became all he could think of.

  Every one of his victims was a row of Jane Does on the end of his blade. Their deaths to him were dull, meaningless, while inside his fantasy, the blonde bitch raged.

  “You seem to have lost your touch, Edric.”

  God’s tone was disapproving as he waited for another meaningless update on Edric’s progress. God knew exactly what he’d done. Their connection was like a blow-by-blow account. Why he insisted on these unenlightening phone conversations confused and bugged the shit out of him.

  Edric continued to do God’s work. He traveled from town to town, skipping some, and then doubling back to hunt and kill. But he took no pleasure in killing now. His actions became mechanical and sloppy. He knew he’d lost his touch.

  “Yeah well, don't worry, I haven't failed yet.” Edric growled.

  “No you haven't. But I must wonder, Edric, who is she? This human who’s branded inside your mind? She seems to occupy your thoughts more than she should and you’re making mistakes.”

  Edric snarled back, unable to stop himself. The blonde bitch rose like bile in his throat. “She is no one! Have I been caught? No. So leave me the fuck alone!”

  Silence. Not even a breath. Not even a whisper. Edric knew he was losing his mind. He was unraveling from the desolation of his essence. Until all that filled him and kept him going was the thought of finding her.

  “Control yourself, Edric,” God growled. Edric could feel death upon him. God’s power squeezed his inanimate life until he doubled over with the pain and sank to the floor. “Let me remind you of our arrangement. You exist because I allow it. I have not made you into ash because I’ve yet to tire of you. Do you understand your position here?”

  “Yes,” Edric cried.

  “Good. Kill her and move on.”

  Edric lay curled and whimpering like the fucking dog he’d become, the phone still pressed against his ear from fear he might miss some word of God’s. He felt thick gunk squeeze from his eyes and stopped whimpering. He wiped at his face and stared at his hands. Clumps of congealed blood lay in his palm, blood that wasn’t even his. Tears… they were tears that slid from his eyes. Jesus… what have I become? Sobs wracked his body and he gripped his stomach. He had no purpose, he had no life… he had no—

  He stopped, mid-thought, frozen. An image filled his mind and he clung to it like a fucking life raft. The blonde bitch fueled his fire and filled his useless fucking existence. This was his only purpose. His grip unclenched from his empty gut.

  God wanted him
to kill.

  He would kill them all.

  He would kill because of her.

  Edric Hasting smiled.

  Chapter 15

  Eve

  THE REVVING OF engines bought Eve back to reality. Wiping grit from her eyes, she tried to orient herself. She longed to remain in her dream rather than enter this greyed-out existence. Her fantasy ended anyway when the real world shouldered her dream aside.

  The towering semi-trailers sandwiched the vehicle and idled with an out-of-control beat, shooting plumes of white exhaust into the air to settle around them. She was in a stranger’s car, in the middle of nowhere. This would’ve normally freaked her out, let alone the memory of what happened last night. But for now she was alive, she was safe and warm—a little too warm.

  Eve pulled at the layers draped across her. A sudden snore caused her to jolt and she looked at the man who’d stopped for her last night. He was wedged between the seat and the steering wheel. He looked uncomfortable, painful even. His left hand was outstretched toward her, like he was pleading for her to save him. Her thoughts darkened and she pulled away. She couldn’t save him. She could barely save herself.

  The car was definitely lived-in. Files littered the back seat. A towel and what she guessed was a shaving kit lay near the back door and rubbish littered the floor under her feet. It looked as though he’d done this many times, sleeping where he parked, living on the road. She turned from the backseat to look at him in the light. Her eyes roamed his body and his face. She remembered how he made her feel—protected and safe—and how did she repay his kindness? By leering at him. Her cheeks burned in the cold morning air.

  She lowered her gaze down to the stack of thick files by his side. The folders were bent, the edges dog-eared and ripped, worn down with use. The word confidential caught Eve’s attention. The bold, red stamped word decorated every file she could see, enticing her to pick one up and read it.

  The impulse to read the folder was so overwhelming, her hand shook when she reached out. Horrified, she jerked back and instead she turned her attention outside the car, to the now desolate, abandoned truck bays surrounding them. But intrigue and instinct had her turning back. Eve winced and forced her body to bend as she grabbed the file and pulled it onto her lap.

  She listened to the pace of his breathing over her heart’s pounding, her mouth arid like a desert wind. She couldn’t stop herself. She opened the file. The words ‘Department of Police Prosecutions: Record of Interview: Detective Adley Scott’ made her stop. A memory drifted to the surface. What are you, a cop or something?

  Yeah. I mean, no… I used to be.

  That voice inside urged her on, telling her there was more to Adley Scott than she could see. Her heart felt heavy, knowing she was betraying his trust, but still, she found herself rifling through the pages, one at a time.

  There were so many entries, names of women, dates, and locations. The words time of death halted her rapid scanning and her breath. She glanced at Adley again. His breathing was steady and even. His snores peaked and then fell. She swallowed hard and turned back to the file. The last entry was dated two weeks ago. Now only more questions plagued her. Why was he living in his car and haunting the roads? Why wasn’t he a detective anymore? And more importantly, why did he really stop for her last night?

  Something was happening here. Something she didn’t quite understand. It was as though the universe suddenly saw her, as though it said, Aha! There you are, Eve. I’ve been looking all over for you. The attention filled her with panic, the spotlight unwanted, forcing her to fight just to stay alive from the nightmares of this world.

  Fighting to stay alive for her and her son was all she thought about. So, like a voyeur, she opened the door and stepped into hell. Victim: Sebastian Hayden. DOB: 12-05-2005 Sex: Male. Address: 9 Granville Street. Preliminary Report showing sixteen incision and lacerations wounds ranging from point three centimeters to twenty centimeters….

  Her heart raced. Her hand fluttered to her stomach. Dear God, he was just a child. Eve was frozen, caught up in words that ran together in a jumble of medical terminology and detailed measurements. The only things that changed were the names... Jesus, the names, all children... Stephanie Krass DOB: 20-12-2003, Lilly Norman DOB: 11-06-2004, Matthew Scott DOB: 01-05-2006…. They kept coming. She stared at them, pages and pages of names, birth dates and details until all she saw were blurred streaks of black and white.

  And then there were the photos….

  The last photo made her cry out and almost drop the file. Every muscle in her body reacted. Her stomach jerked, as though holding tight to the life within her. Eve tried to close the pages. She shouldn’t be doing this. Her invasion of Adley’s life was far too graphic and far too real. She moved to close the file, until she saw the last name. That stopped her. Beside the name was a single phrase carrying with it so much torment, she felt an overwhelming need to understand. Next of kin, Adley Scott.

  Eve looked at him, now realizing why she felt such an instant connection. She wanted to reach out, to touch his scars and give him comfort. So much pain and loneliness must haunt this man. She knew what that felt like.

  She no longer cared about privacy. She had to know him. Her heart raced and her vision tunneled, forcing out the useless motion of the outside world, until all she saw was him.

  Adley was handsome, even with the scars on his face. His black hair was flecked with grey around his ears, adding character to his masculine features. She wanted to reach out and touch him. There was nowhere else to look and nowhere else she wanted to look. His parted lips quivered as he inhaled. They looked soft, tender… inviting. She could see herself sliding her fingers across them, feel them shudder under her touch. She could no longer stop herself from staring. Her gaze dropped to his chest, watching it expand with each breath.

  The white T-shirt he wore had seen better days. It was stained with black smudges, the edges unraveled. His skin was raised in goose bumps, and it wasn't until she looked down that she saw why. He’d covered her with his jacket to keep her warm. The black hooded material resurrected memories she’d rather keep buried, but as she lifted it to her face, she knew this was where the similarities ended. Eve inhaled his scent and felt something deep inside her come alive. Her skin tingled and warmed. Her heart blossomed with each beat as she inhaled. She couldn’t stop herself from holding the fabric against her, knowing his scent was inside her body, deep in her lungs.

  He had more muscle than she’d ever seen on a man close-up. His body was smooth, yet hard, flowing in curves and ridges. His shirt molded around the ripples of his stomach, until it disappeared under the buckle of his jeans.

  She wondered where Adley was going and who would be there when he arrived? He probably had a wife, a family. She searched for a wedding band on his finger—there was none, but didn’t mean much, her own father hadn’t worn one. A man who looked like Adley did was never single for long. She clenched her jaw, grinding her teeth together, and her mood darkened. Eve was suddenly angry. Envious of a wife she didn't know and would never know. She hated her. Hated that she was able to have everything Eve couldn't. She wanted him, even if it was just the idea of him.

  She looked away, not wanting to stay on this out-of-control emotional rollercoaster. But the photographs pulled her back in, smothering the heat simmering inside her until her blood ran cold. The children called to her. Their horror screamed at her, tearing at her heart, demanding to be known. Their tiny bodies had been slashed, stabbed, and torn. Their death was laid out on the glossy prints before her.

  “You shouldn't have touched that.”

  Eve jumped, causing the photos to slide from the metal fastener onto her lap and beside her on the seat. She quickly grabbed them, forced them back into the file, and slapped it shut, wishing the world would swallow her.

  She glanced up at him for a second and then dropped her gaze. He kept his eyes closed, giving her the decency to be ashamed in private. She quickly placed the file
back between his seat and the console and sat frozen, unable to tell a lie and yet humiliated by the truth.

  It wasn't only her act of betraying him which shamed her. It was the way she’d watched him sleep. Thinking about him. Wanting him. Her desire slammed into her, lighting a fire from inside and chasing the breath from her body. He opened his eyes and stared as though she was nothing more than glass.

  “I… I’m sorry….” Her mind surged with emotions like waves, battering the seawall inside her. What could she say? What excuse could she give?

  He yawned and stretched. His fingers brushed her arm. And although the touch was fleeting, the sensation stayed. He ran his hand through his hair. One lock rebelled, falling forward. She had to stop herself from reaching out and brushing it back. Instead all she could do was stare at his lips, soft and tender. Her thoughts stilled. Her emotions seethed from the maelstrom inside her, reducing her to one overwhelming need. Eve had never wanted to kiss a man like she did now. The moment lingered until he dropped his gaze and it was over, as though it had never happened at all. With shaking hands she held out his jacket.

  “I guess you’re hungry?” He took the jacket.

  Her stomach answered with howl. “Yeah.”

  “Good. So am I.”

  He started the car and she stared out the side view mirror; anything to stop from staring at Adley. White exhaust shot out behind them, billowing into the crisp morning air . They drove out of the truck stop, heading south.