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

by Rebecca Hamilton

  “Three spirits? Did you destroy the one in the store?” Susan’s eyes were wider and more bug-eyed than usual.

  Adelaide shook her head. “I was…in the middle of a conversation and it disappeared before I could react. But you’re wrong, Susan, there was a fourth. I saw it in the alley on my way to the Market House.”

  “It’s an omen.” Annie said simply, as if it were matter of fact. “Something opened a portal between this dimension and the next.”

  “Enough. The lot of you are spoiling my birthday. Esther!” Lucy called shrilly. “Esther, we’re ready to begin.”

  Adelaide leaned over to Annie. “Couldn’t Mary Roeder make it?”

  Annie shook her head so hard that her looped and braided chignon moved around on the back of her skull. “She wasn’t invited.”

  Adelaide gasped. Susan shot her a look from across the table.

  “Lucy doesn’t think she’s in the same class as the rest of us.” Annie leaned closer, dropping her voice to a near whisper. “The girl dispatched the spirit of her own mother. I think she’s in a class far above us, if you want my opinion.”

  Adelaide blinked. How could Mary Roeder not be in the same class? Her father owned not only the confectionary on High Street, but also the White Hall Tavern and another local shop. Annie’s father owned a clothing shop, her father owned the dry goods shop in Ferry Lot, and Susan’s father owned a tobacco shop. Lucy, on the other hand, was the daughter of the paymaster clerk of the Armory. The only difference between their fathers was—

  “But, you see, her father is German.” Annie confirmed Adelaide’s thoughts. “Lucy thinks he’s some kind of savage.”

  Adelaide rolled her eyes.

  Esther returned to the dining room, carrying a silver tray loaded with sparkling clear glass dishes. She carefully set a dish and a spoon in front of each attendee. Adelaide marveled at the rich, creamy confection, dotted with rosy strawberries. Her mouth watered. It was almost enough to forgive their host for being so beastly.

  But not quite.

  She waited for Lucy to lift her spoon and take a bite of the frozen cream. Once she had taken the first bite, Adelaide daintily dipped her spoon into the ice cream. It met her lips with a delightfully cold shock. The rich cream and sweet berries melted in her mouth. Delightful!

  “I have heard,” Lucy said in between bites of ice cream, “that the very first president of our country, George Washington, loved ice cream so much that he bought his very own ice cream machine.”

  “I can understand why.” Annie dipped her spoon back into her bowl. “This is exquisite, Lucy. And, no doubt, costly.”

  “Thank you.” Lucy looked pleased. “I enjoy giving the best to my very best friends.”

  Adelaide found that she couldn’t quite bring herself to meet Lucy’s steely blue eyes. The fact Lucy had specifically not invited Mary Roeder nagged at her mind; Mary was good enough to attend Society meetings and provide treats to them—even destroy the specter of her own mother—but she wasn’t good enough to come to the birthday party.

  “Did you notice how dashing Mr. Cooper looked at Sunday services this week?” Lucy spoke in an offhanded manner. “I’ve asked my father what he knows of this gentleman. After all, I’m entering my courting age.”

  Adelaide shot a look across the table, nearly dropping her spoon into her dish. Lucy was staring directly at her.

  Sarah’s face had drastically paled; her spoon clattered to the tablecloth and left a strawberry pink stain. She fumbled for it, quickly dapping at the mark with her napkin. “I’m sorry, I’m so clumsy sometimes…”

  Lucy ignored her. “My father tells me that he is nearly twenty-four, but I don’t really feel that’s too much older than me at eighteen. I didn’t want my father to know why I was asking, of course, but I did learn that Mr. Cooper comes from a very fine family in New York.”

  “Massachusetts.” Adelaide muttered.

  “What did you say, Addy?” Lucy smirked; again, Adelaide wanted to smack her across the mouth. The wretch knew what she was doing.

  “I said, I think he hails from Massachusetts.”

  Lucy’s smirk broadened; her face resembled the twisted grin of a shadow specter about to pounce. “And how do you know that?”

  “As a matter of fact, I’ve had many conversations with Mr. Cooper.” Adelaide ground her teeth together, trying to keep her expression blank. “He paid me a visit at the store just the other day.”

  Lucy snorted. “You’re so apt for exaggeration, Adelaide, honestly. Well, regardless of where he’s from, I am planning to have my father introduce us at a Sunday Service. Perhaps this coming Sunday. My father surprised me with a new gown today and I plan to look my best when I meet him.”

  Adelaide pursed her lips together and stared at her ice cream dish in silence. All of a sudden, the cream tasted bitter in her mouth. “I think you’ll find, friend, that his affections are solely directed at me.”

  No one at the table spoke.

  Lucy’s cheeks turned pink, but her expression was blank. “Then he’ll just have to choose between us, won’t he? The paymaster clerk’s daughter…or the shop keeper’s daughter.”

  The spite practically dripped down Lucy’s face. Adelaide felt the eyes of the other girls on her and, for a moment, she had to clasp her hands together in her lap to keep from throwing her ice cream dish across the room. Lucy got everything she wanted. Any gown, any bauble, any ridiculous pet or pony. She was spoiled rotten.

  And Adelaide was not about to let her have Thomas.

  She stood so abruptly that her hoopskirt flung against her chair, tilting it backwards with a crash. “And I guarantee, he’d choose me over you every single time.”

  Lucy’s jaw trembled slightly. She remained silent.

  “I need a breath of fresh air. Sarah,” she looked down into the saucer wide eyes of her sister, “I’ll see you at home.”

  Without waiting for anyone to respond—she didn’t expect them to, anyway—she lifted the front of her hoop upwards to keep from tripping over it and stormed out of the room. Esther passed her in the entryway, pressing her cloak into her hands and then rushing into the dining room. Obviously, the woman had been listening at the door.

  She probably hated Lucy, too.

  Throwing the cloak over her shoulders, she clasped the doorknob in her hand and yanked it back. She’d rather face Poppa’s anger for walking home alone than spend another moment with that vile woman.

  And then she stopped.

  The spirit was still wandering at the top of the stairs. Deep in the recesses of her mind, Adelaide could hear sobbing. This wasn’t a spirit that stalked them or was bent on causing a ruckus in town. It was here against its will—because Lucy always got what she wanted.

  Reaching into the carefully concealed pocket in her gown, she pulled out her pocket watch. Climbing the first few steps, she pressed the clasp to open it and turned the face to the creature. “The power of Christ protects me; I command you to depart this life for the next.”

  Pure light flowed from the watch face. It enveloped the spirit and grew brighter and brighter; a light so brilliant that Adelaide had to shield her eyes. Soundlessly, the spirit dissipated and the light dissolved upward. It was gone.

  Chapter 4

  HE WAS WAITING for her at the conclusion of Sunday service.

  “You looking fetching today, as always.” He caught her hand in his and brought it to his mouth, brushing his lips against her knuckles. “Are you attending the festivities in Arsenal Square today, lovely girl?”

  “I could be convinced to go,” she fluttered her eyelashes at him, smiling sweetly, “if you’re going.”

  “I didn’t up work up courage to ask your father permission to walk there alone.” He flashed his dimple dotted smile and offered her his arm. “Walk with me?”

  She slid her hand to the crook of his arm, leaning close to him. “You actually asked him?”

  “Damn right I did.” He slid his free hand over
hers, gently caressing her knuckle with his thumb. “I spent the whole service trying to figure out what to say to him.”

  “You must have been convincing.”

  “I always am.”

  He was patient as she picked her way down the stone staircase, holding tightly to her arm to keep her steady on the slanted cut of rock. Once they were on street level, he leaned over and pressed his lips to her cheek. “Where were you off to all dressed up the other night? I wanted to cross the street and carry you off to keep for myself.”

  “An ice cream social at Lucy Daingerfield’s house.” Adelaide wrinkled up her nose. “It was miserable, as I should have anticipated.”

  “She’s tenacious.”

  “She’s revolting.”

  He laughed, touching his head to hers. “You were the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen in my life.”

  “Oh, stop. You’re being far too complementary.”

  “Not at all. The men I was with? The bawdy comments they made about your lithe frame and gorgeous face were appalling. I made it known that you were spoken for—by me. And then, once they meandered down the street, I sat across from the Daingerfield house and waited for you to leave.”

  “You waited?”

  “I wanted to make sure you were safe. And then you left early, running down the street like you were chased by the devil himself.” He glanced at her. “What happened?”

  “Nothing…out of the ordinary.” Adelaide hesitated and nuzzled her face against his shoulder. “She insinuated she was going to have her father introduce you since now she’s of courting age.”

  “Well, my love, she did have him introduce us. But, unfortunate for Miss Daingerfield, my heart belongs to someone else.” He laced his fingers around hers, gently squeezing her hand. “You.”

  Her heart skipped out of cadence. In that brief hesitation, he again touched his head to hers, pressing his lips to her temple. His voice was raspy and low, almost a purr in her ear. “Do you think we can find a way to be alone today? Even for just a few minutes?”

  “Absolutely.”

  The entire town—even those who didn’t attend Sunday services—gathered in Arsenal Square, the grassy lawn between Large and Small Arsenals, where the weapons from the Armory were housed. It was the last day of fall celebration; the final town event before the cold and ice of winter slowed everything but musket production to a stop. There was a quilt auction, a pie auction, firemen’s brigade races, and several lengthy and dull speeches by Mr. Beckham, the magistrate of Jefferson County. Adelaide saw Lucy standing with Susan and Annie, her pale face flushed red at the site of Thomas Cooper so close to her.

  She only let him go to take part in the firemen’s brigade race. Sarah joined her in the shade of Large Arsenal, sinking down in the grass next with her skirt billowing out like a pillow. “He’s infatuated with you.”

  “So?” Adelaide kept her eyes on Thomas as he lined up behind David Hamilton, laughing and running his hands through his hair. He was strikingly handsome, his dark blue eyes and longish, brown hair his own style, not necessarily the same as all the other men around him. He’d taken off his frock coat and left it with her, instead rolling up his shirt sleeves as the other men had, in anticipation of the water filled bucket relay.

  “Lucy’s so mad that she spit on Susan.” Sarah snorted, shaking her head in obvious disgust. “You took the one thing she wanted and couldn’t have: a man.”

  “He walked me from the top of the stone steps to the bottom.” Adelaide smiled broadly as Thomas looked at her, shrugging his shoulders and cocking his head towards the bucket. He was adorable; she wanted to stick her finger into his deep dimples and kiss his soft, full lips. Talk about infatuation: there was nothing she wanted other than him. “She’s mad about that?”

  “Addy, please. He asked Poppa for permission.”

  Mr. Beckham stood in between the two lines of Armory workers, laughing as he dropped his hands to signify the start of the race. The men in the front of the lines dashed forward, dunking their buckets into the barrels of water and rushing to the next man. The goal was to get as much water into the back barrel as possible. Thomas’s brow was furrowed in concentration, he looked like he was ready to pounce on his competition.

  Adelaide smirked, elbowing her sister in the ribs. “He’s handsome, isn’t he?”

  “We’re not having this conversation.”

  “Is Lucy really mad?” Adelaide tore her eyes from Thomas’s muscular back, glancing at her sister. “Or is she just irritated that I have something she doesn’t?”

  “I have no idea—just that she’s screaming to Annie that you should be removed from the Society on the grounds of being a traitor.”

  Adelaide burst out laughing. What a fool.

  Her eyes stayed locked on Thomas as he ran the race, his strong arms supporting the weight of the full bucket of water. She cheered and clapped for his team—men she’d grown up with, the brothers of the ladies in her social circle—and when they won, she nearly bowled Sarah over. Thomas was embraced in the arms of his friends, but his eyes were locked on her.

  Heat flushed across her cheeks. Even after all they’d said to each other, his secret looks and obvious appreciation of her figure, his steady glances made her blush. She knew he wanted her; she knew his body was responding to her touch, but she wasn’t necessarily ready for the entire town to know that they desperately craved each other.

  He was still laughing when he returned to her side. Nodding at Sarah, he reached down and pulled Adelaide to her feet. “And you thought I could only smith guns.”

  She laughed, wiping dots of water from his cheek with her thumb. “I never said that. But, I’m proud of your prowess.”

  He shrugged his frock coat over his shoulders, running his hands through his hair to control the wild curls encouraged by the heat of the sun and the spilled water during the relay. “They could at least award us an additional five minutes of break time, yeah? The things I could do to you in those five minutes.”

  Adelaide let him pull her into his arms, again pressing his lips to her forehead. Sarah squirmed to her feet, awkwardly taking several steps backwards. “I think Annie is calling me over to them. Congratulations, Mr. Cooper. It was…um…a fine show of skill.”

  He didn’t respond, his eyes locked on Adelaide’s. She waved her sister away. “I’ll see you at home, Sarah.”

  Several local musicians gathered on a hastily built bandstand, entertaining the crowd with familiar folk tunes and hymns. Thomas reached forward and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, gently trailing his fingertips down her cheek. “Do you want to go for a walk, my sweet?”

  “Of course.”

  He led her from the shade of Large Arsenal and through the Ferry Lot, the streets empty except for a few drunks stumbling in and out of the hotel a few doors down from her father’s dry good’s store. In their seclusion, he slid his arm around her waist, pulling her to him. “I’m glad we’re finally alone.”

  Her breath caught in her throat. “I’d ask you to come inside with me, but my damned stepmother is in confinement. I’ll be honest with you, Thomas, I think my father only married her because she’s pregnant. She’s my age.”

  “You’re all I care about.” His lips trailed across her jawline, he slowed for a moment and stroked her hair back with a soft touch. “Let me court you.”

  “We’ve just been introduced.”

  “I want you.” He blurted the words out as if they’d been bubbling in his mouth for days. “I want to touch you and kiss you and know that you’re mine.”

  They walked into the Armory complex, his arm sliding from her hand to again cradling her around her waist. The silence was comfortable, but she felt like she had to respond to him. “You don’t have to court me just to have me, Thomas.”

  “I’m greedy though, my sweet girl. I want you all to myself.” He hesitated in front of one of the similarly constructed narrow white buildings. “This is where I work, day after day
. Just knowing you’re that close to me.”

  She squirmed from his embrace, standing on her tiptoes to peer through the plate glass window. “Do you work all those machines?”

  He chuckled, resting his hand against the small of her back. “Most of them. I file and fit, forge and carve. I work with my hands.”

  “So, you could say you’re good with your hands? Able?” She cocked her eyebrows upwards, pressing her back against the whitewashed building. “I’m just curious. I prefer a man who is skilled with his hands.”

  He slid his arms around her waist, pulling her body against his. “Maybe I should just show you.”

  “I wouldn’t say no.”

  His mouth was close to hers, his lips in such proximity that she felt like he could just dip his head forward and kiss her. He lifted a hand to her cheek, tilting her face towards his. “Can I kiss you?”

  She nodded, not entirely confident of her ability to speak coherently.

  He cradled her cheek in his hand and pulled her to him, lightly pressing his lips against hers. The kiss deepened instantly, his mouth prompted hers open and his tongue caressed hers with light, gentle laps. As they kissed, he slid his hand down to her waist, pulling her against him. It was soft and sensual, enough to show how much he wanted her, but not enough for either of them to lose control.

  Pulling away, his grin was lopsided, his dimple perfect against his smooth cheeks. “Everything you do makes me want you more.”

  She pressed her lips to his again. “Good.”

  * * *

  LATER THAT EVENING, she sat on the edge of her bed and idly ran a brush through her long hair. He’d kissed her once, but that wasn’t going to satisfy her for long. She was infatuated with him: from his lash lined blue eyes, to his broad, muscular shoulders, to his trim waistline. Thomas was a gentleman, though. A rouge, but an inherent gentleman. One kiss in the Armory complex and then he’d guided her back to the festival in Arsenal Square. They’d laughed and joked with their friends, but his hand never, ever, left hers.