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

by Rebecca Hamilton

“Does my peculiar accent give me away?” He chuckled, sliding his hand to hers and taking the basket from her. His touch radiated heat across her shoulders; her pulse launched into a frenzy. “No, my family is from Massachusetts and I was previously employed at the Springfield Armory. I can earn a much better living here. The work is all very specialized.”

  “I’m sure.” She could easily lose herself in his eyes, wide and blue the shade of the sky as the sun rose. “Say what you will about Springfield, but Harpers Ferry is the dominant armory and arsenal.”

  “I find it all very fascinating.” He smelled like smoke and gun oil, but there was something about the scent that she found appealing. “The intricacies of the weapon, the sound of the machines... but I’m sure the subject bores you.”

  “Not at all.” She gazed up at him as they walked, spreading her lips into a coy smile. “I don’t know a lot about industry of gun smithing, but I think it’s very interesting. And you make it more so.”

  “I could talk to you for hours about the process,” he slid his hand to the crook of her elbow, pulling her to him and guiding her around a pile of muck on the path, “and I assure you, at that length, you will find yourself bored.”

  “I think I’d enjoy it, actually. We could make our own entertainment if the conversation grew dull.”

  He nibbled on his lower lip, the corners of his mouth twitching upward in a grin. “There’s something about you, Miss Randolph…something I can’t quite figure out.”

  “Oh?”

  “You’re different than other ladies I’ve met.”

  “I’ll admit, sometimes I’m too bold.”

  He reached out, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His fingertips brushed against her cheek; his touch sent heat coursing through her body. “No. It’s something else.”

  She glanced at him. True, she was different—she was one of the six. But there was no way he knew that.

  Right?

  “I’m just me, Mr. Cooper. I don’t pretend to be anything other myself.”

  “I find I quite like you.” His mouth clamped shut with an audible plop, his cheeks flushing crimson. Evidently he’d said too much.

  She swayed to the side a step, casually brushing against him. “I find the feeling to be mutual.”

  They walked in comfortable silence to the market, a trip that had never seemed so short. Thomas Cooper paused momentarily and said, “It has been an honor, as always, Miss Randolph.”

  “I look forward to that discussion you promised me, sir. I won’t forget.”

  He reached out, gently brushing his fingertip down her hand. “And I would never let you down, Adelaide.”

  Desire thrilled down her spine and crossed her lower abdomen. His eyes were intoxicating, just one touch made her feel like her knees would give way under her. His lips curled up in a lopsided grin and, after a beat, he walked away.

  She watched him continue down Shenandoah Street and reflected on Sarah’s comments the day before. Her sister was right: she most certainly was distracted by Thomas Cooper.

  And she had the feeling, though perhaps presumptuous, he was rather distracted by her.

  As she watched Thomas’s trim, but muscular, figure continue down the street, she saw a dark figure hovering at the mouth of the alley. It was watching her. You will see death.

  But when she looked again, it was gone.

  Chapter 3

  ADELAIDE WAS NOT immediately aware of anything worse than tending her father’s dry goods store. It was very rare that this happened, thankfully, because she found herself bored senseless minding the shop in Poppa and Robert’s absence. As usually happened, they had cause to wait at the railroad depot for the delivery of goods, which needed to be counted and checked before being brought to the Ferry Lot. Poppa preferred the store not close and, as the eldest child after Robert, it was her responsibility to take.

  There were more important things to worry about: like the spirit she and Annie stopped in the cemetery or the specter watching her from the alley next to Market Street. No spirit activity for almost a year, and now, two within a matter of days. What did that mean? You will see death. It didn’t make sense; she’d seen death. Everyone had.

  All go unto one place; all are of the dust, and all turn to dust again.

  Her thoughts drifted to Lucy’s social, now only a week away. She and Sarah had begged, pleaded, and bartered to convince Poppa they needed new dresses to wear to the social and prevailed. He allowed them to each choose material from his shop, but at this point Adelaide wasn’t sure she would be finished with the bodice before the social. Running the household since her daft stepmother wouldn’t, keeping watch for wandering spirits, and staring out the window to catch a glimpse of Thomas Cooper leaving the Armory grounds took up time. She needed more daylight hours. Either that, or a stronger constitution.

  It was a rare peaceful moment in the shop. She busied herself by pawing through a variety of trimmings among the textiles. There were so many different kinds of laces and cording. She could spend hours poring over the different fabrics and buttons and baubles; as much as she hated being in charge of the store, she loved dreaming about the gowns she could make with some of the more expensive fabrics. She ran her fingertips over a bolt of pale blue silk. It would make a gorgeous ball gown. She could just picture Lucy Daingerfield’s ears turning red in anger and jealousy if she had a gown made from this fabric. It would serve her right. She was a snotty, spoiled brat, who headed the spirit hunters group, but refused to do her share of the combat—

  The shop door opened.

  Adelaide shifted her weight from one foot to the other and turned towards the ware cluttered main room. “If you need help finding anything, just let me know.”

  She didn’t realize who stood in front of her at first; his figure silhouetted by the bright light pouring in from the front doors. He remained silent for a moment and then said quietly, “I didn’t expect to see you here, Miss Randolph.”

  Thomas Cooper. Adelaide smoothed down her glossy brown hair and smiled sweetly at him. “Sometimes my father leaves the store in my charge. I’m capable of more than just being pretty.”

  He chuckled. “Pretty doesn’t even come close to describing how fetching you are, my sweet. Please, call me Thomas. You don’t need to be so formal when we’re alone.”

  “And do you enjoy being alone with me, Thomas?”

  He sucked in a sharp breath. “I’d plan my whole day around such discreet meetings, if it were possible.”

  She nervously leaned against the counter, bumping her arm into a stereopticon. The picture viewer nearly crashed to the floor; she grabbed it at the last moment and steadied it. “See how you distract me from clear thinking? I’m like a bird flapping around in the dirt.”

  “Hardly.” He leaned towards her, resting his elbows on the counter, and caressed the inside of her wrist with his fingertip. “It’s me who is distracted. I barely remember why I came in here.”

  She pouted. “Not just to see me?”

  “If I’d known you were here alone, I’d have been here sooner.”

  Adelaide let herself get caught up in his eyes, his gaze locked steadily on her. His lips were full and pink, his bottom caught in his teeth as he nibbled the tender flesh. She wondered what his lips would feel like against hers; what his mouth tasted like.

  Movement at the door caught her attention.

  She tore her gaze from his and looked over his shoulder. Standing on the threshold was a dark spirit, its shroud pooling on the floor and tendrils seeming to curl outward. Her breath caught in her throat. There was something about this spirit, though, something familiar. She was overcome by the smell of lavender and, for a moment, her vision clouded; darkness threatened to swallow her up.

  “Adelaide?”

  Thomas was staring at her, his brow knitted in a frown. “What’s wrong?”

  She fluttered her eyes, again looking towards the door. The spirit was gone. “Nothing.”

&n
bsp; He glanced behind him and then looked back at her. “Did you see something?”

  “Don’t worry about it, it’s nothing. Really.” She leaned across the counter and touched his strong jaw line, turning his face back towards her. “I’m more interesting, anyway.”

  “You are.” He again nibbled on his bottom lip. “And I’m completely captivated by you.”

  She felt her cheeks heat up. He was too enticing.

  The shop door opened again; this time, a man walked in. He didn’t act as if he’d seen anything lingering in the doorway.

  Which he probably hadn’t.

  Thomas spoke louder, craning his neck to look at the wall of wares. “Just a few items, Miss Randolph. I’d like a pound of cheese, a pound of bacon, and two loaves of bread.” He paused. “How much per pound of coffee?”

  She squinted at the tins of coffee along the far wall. “12 ½ cents per pound.”

  “I’ll take a pound of coffee.”

  Walking behind the counters, she crossed to the shelves of coffee and tea, pulling a canister down. “Good afternoon, Mr. Boerly. I’ll be with you in just a minute.”

  Boerly was tall and good natured, stocky and strong. He ran a small grocery at the opposite end of town and had an infectious smile—and impeccable sense of humor. “You know my impatience, child. Ha—good natured ribbing, of course. Nothing to worry about, my dear, I just wanted to check and see if the saws I ordered from your father had come in. The saws in my possession now are worth about as much as a comb.”

  “I think my father is still waiting for delivery.” She measured out Thomas’s coffee and glanced at a stack of paperwork on the counter. “It’s been delayed because of some problem with the railroad, but he should have by week’s end. I hope that won’t cause you too much trouble.”

  “Send those brothers of yours over. They can fix my front steps.”

  “I’ll do that, sir. It’s likely they were the ones who broke them in the first place.”

  Mr. Boerly chuckled.

  Adelaide carefully wrapped the pound of bacon in brown paper and tied a cord around it, then retrieved two loaves of bread from a basket by the counter. She looked up; Mr. Borely had already left the store. “Would you care for anything else, Mr. Thomas Cooper?”

  “You.”

  “Hmm…it’d amount to no more than bending me over the counter and I prefer much more than that from you.”

  “I think that’s all for now.”

  She carefully added up all his items. “It will be fifty-eight cents.”

  He counted out a few coins and handed them to her. As he did, his rough hands brushed against hers. “Your hands are very soft.” His voice was quiet.

  Her lips spread into a coy smile. She handed him back the two coins she owed him. Their fingers touched again; this time he caught her hand in his.

  “There’s something about you.” His eyes were locked on her. “I am so captivated by you…and I want to know you better. Be alone with you.”

  Before she could respond, the door swung open and several gentlemen walked inside. Thomas squeezed her hand and let her go. “Thank you for your help, Miss Randolph. Perhaps we’ll see each other again.”

  She smiled at him, slowly wetting her bottom lip. “Soon, I should hope.”

  He gathered his purchased goods from the counter and swiftly departed the store. Adelaide watched him pause outside the window and touch his fingertips to his hat.

  He left her breathless.

  * * *

  “ADDY! I CAN’T find my blue ribbons. Where are my blue ribbons?”

  Adelaide rolled her eyes. She wanted to grab her sister by the shoulders and shake her until she calmed down. Instead, she picked the blue ribbons off the bed and handed them to her. “Will you tighten my corset?”

  Sarah dropped the ribbons back onto the bed and spun her around. She grabbed a hold of the corset laces and yanked on them. Adelaide jerked backwards.

  “I don’t want to pass out, Sarah.” She hissed. “Make it a little looser.”

  She loosened the strings. “Better?”

  Adelaide nodded and grabbed her pale green bodice from the bed. She finished the final stitches only hours before. “Thank you.”

  “We’re going to be late.” Sarah ripped a brush through her thick brown hair. “Lucy will throw us out, I just know it.”

  Adelaide pulled her hoopskirt up and tied the cords tightly around her waist. “It can’t be helped now, Sarah. We’re doing the best we can.”

  Sarah helped her pull her petticoats and skirt over her head. Together, they fastened the tiny hooks and eyes. Adelaide spun her sister around and carefully began braiding her long hair. With several quick flicks of her wrists, she wound it into a tight chignon and pinned it in place.

  “Hurry, do mine.” She turned her back to Sarah and patiently waited as her hair was styled.

  There was a knock at their door. “Girls? Are you ready to go to the social?”

  “Nearly.” Adelaide called out. This was ridiculous: chores and cooking and caring for the household was finished. And, of course, the one social event they’d been looking forward to attending, they were now running late. “We will be out in a moment.”

  “Addy, twist the sides.” Sarah had divided Adelaide’s hair into three sections and braided the middle section. Adelaide quickly twisted one section of hair and waited while her sister intertwined it with the main section. As soon as Sarah secured both twisted sections of hair and the plaited chignon to the back of Adelaide’s head, they grabbed their cloaks from the bed and thundered downstairs.

  “We’re ready, Poppa.” Sarah called out.

  Their father smiled broadly, but there was an undercurrent of pain in his voice. “Look at my two daughters! The very image of your mother.”

  Sarah and Adelaide exchanged pleased smiles.

  He offered his arms and escorted them out the front door. The October air was warm as the summer heat fought to live on to mid-month. The mountains surrounding town loomed black against the fading sunlight, seeming to close in around them like an army of giants.

  Adelaide’s eyes drifted to the Armory complex. She saw a group of men loitering at the gates—immediately she realized one was Thomas Cooper. Even from the distance she was at, and in the dying sunlight, she could see his eyes locked on her. She slowed down her pace, staring across the street at him. It was as if time itself stopped; he was that close to her, yet, she couldn’t just stroll across the street to be with him. Her pulse quickened. God, she wanted him. The way he looked at her, the way his blue eyes lit up when he saw her and how his dimple dotted smile etched across his handsome face. She should have just let him lean her over the counter and take her. Right here in the store.

  The thought alone made her pulse pound between her legs.

  “Adelaide.” Her father’s voice was sharp, he glanced over his shoulder at her. “Don’t dally.”

  She cast one more look at Thomas and then hastened her pace, rushing to catch up with her father and sister.

  Poppa dropped them off at the iron-gate in front of Lucy’s house. “I will be back in a few hours to bring you home. Do not leave without me.”

  Neither Sarah nor Adelaide looked back at him as they rushed up the steps. “We won’t!”

  Esther, the Daingerfield’s house woman opened the front door. “Good evening ladies.”

  “Are we late?” Adelaide asked breathlessly. Her eyes drifted beyond the woman’s shoulder, to the staircase leading up to the second floor of the mansion. A spirit stood at the top, writhing and moving from side to side; its features twisted and clouded by continual movement. It seemed confused, almost lost.

  Sarah had stopped beside her, her hands trembling as she unfastened her cloak.

  “No, Miss, you’re just in time.” Esther didn’t seem to act like she saw the creature on the staircase. She held her arms out. “Here, give me your cloaks. I’ll take you over to the other ladies.”

  She led them into t
he formal dining room, with its nearly ceiling high windows draped in luxurious cream colored fabric. The matching tablecloth was covered in orange, yellow, and red leaves. In the center of the table were several different sized gourds and in each corner of the room sat a fat orange pumpkin. Lucy was seated at the head of the table, dressed in a dark red silk gown. Her blonde hair shone in the candlelight, almost like it was being bathed in sunlight.

  She caught sight of them. “The Randolph sisters! I am so glad you both have arrived.”

  Adelaide smiled and looked around at the other members of the Ladies Society. She pulled out the chair next to Annie Frankel and eased down into a sitting position. The moment Esther left the room, she glanced at Lucy; trying to keep her voice calm. “I don’t mean to alarm you, but there is a specter at the top of your staircase.”

  “I know.” Lucy spread her napkin across her lap. “It’s my mother.”

  Adelaide almost choked. “Your mother?”

  “I asked the same question when I got here.” Annie rolled her eyes, glaring across the table at Lucy. “She’s charmed it or something; has it trapped in some kind of limbo.”

  “It’s a containment spell.” Lucy pursed her lips together; Adelaide wanted to reach out and smack the attitude right off her face. “Spirits cannot pass barriers that are set around them. I read it in a book of spells and, when she returned home the week before last, I charmed a barrier around her. Now she’s here. With me.”

  “Lucy, you can’t do that.” Adelaide exchanged a look with Sarah. “Your mother is dead. That thing at the top of the stairs? That’s not her. It’s a reflection of what she was—nothing more.”

  “You’re just jealous my mother came back and yours didn’t.”

  “I’d rather my mother be dead and in Providence.” Sarah shrugged. “It’s ghoulish having her traipse about upstairs, don’t you think?”

  Lucy stared at her.

  “The week before last?” Adelaide drummed her fingers against the table top. “That’s when we saw the spirit in the cemetery. And then, just this morning, I saw one in my father’s store.”