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

by Rebecca Hamilton

“I’m sure he can smell the pork.” Adelaide glanced at her. “He’ll come up and get it.” She wasn’t sure that was necessarily the truth, but also wasn’t sure she wanted to go downstairs to the store either. Eventually, she’d have to, though. She had to do her part of this; the part others didn’t know existed. At this point, she wasn’t sure which was the more frightening: the desires of the living or the cravings of the dead.

  They ate in silence. Even though she was hungry, Adelaide went through the motions of eating, but found no satisfaction in the taste. Her mind was focused on the activities outside. On what could be happening to Thomas. Time seemed to drag on; lunch lasted hours in her mind. Every breath was taken in hesitation. Her ears throbbed waiting for the sound of gunshots echoing in alleyways and across buildings.

  When they had finished eating, Sarah left the kitchen to collect the dishes from the boys and Rebekah. Adelaide placed the remaining meat, cheese, and bread on a large platter in the center of the table. Poppa and Robert would be hungry if they returned.

  When they returned.

  She used a rag to wipe the plates clean. When Sarah returned with more dishes, she didn’t look up from the wash basin. “Did she eat?”

  “A little.”

  Adelaide rolled her eyes. How was this woman supposed to be a mother when she could barely take care of herself?

  They finished cleaning up the lunch dishes and then settled back into their posts. Adelaide left the poker on the table along with the knife she had used to slice the meat and cheese. Sarah returned to her seat on the floor and lit her bundle of sage, gently fanning the smoke out with her hand.

  Although she would never say it to her sister, Adelaide wondered why Poppa hadn’t come back yet. He and Mr. Frankel should have been able to find the weapons in the upper areas of town and distribute them. So, why wouldn’t he come back to let them know what was going on?

  “Do you think they left Mr. Boerly’s body in the street?”

  Adelaide didn’t know how to respond to her sister. “It depends on where he fell, I suppose. There’re raiders in the Rifle Works, the Arsenals, the Armory…it might be too dangerous to pull him out.”

  Sarah opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the explosion of gunfire. It was close this time, too close, like someone was shooting from the base of their staircase. Adelaide could feel the percussion in her chest. Her courage disappeared like water on dry, cracked earth. Jesus, they were here. Now it was happening, now death had come for them. She scrambled to the floor and crashed into her sister as they both dove under the table.

  “What do we do?” Sarah was so close, she nearly burned her face with the sage.

  Levi was loudly sobbing at the far end of the hall. “Addy! Sarah!”

  Adelaide shoved her away and crawled out from under the table. They had to get out. The only option was the backstairs and through the store, but that would only work if the raiders weren’t already swarming around down there.

  Sarah grabbed her arm and jerked her backwards.

  “What is the matter with you—”

  Sarah hushed her. “Listen.”

  Someone was thundering up the back staircase. The pace was frantic, with an obvious urgency to reach the top as quickly as possible. Adelaide’s breath caught in her throat. She’d run out of time. This wasn’t like staring down a specter, this was terror that stiffened her into paralysis. You will see death. Maybe the creature was right after all. May this was it.

  The person stopped behind the door.

  Sarah clutched her arm harder and tried to pull her into the hallway. “We can make it down the stairs to the store, come on. Don’t just stand there!”

  The unseen figure began pounding on the door. Adelaide wanted to turn, wanted to run—but then she stopped.

  The pounding on the door continued, but over it, she could hear a voice calling her name. She took several steps closer.

  “Addy, no!” Sarah hissed.

  Adelaide wrenched her arm away from her sister and ran to the closed door. Pressing her ear against the wood, she could hear a muffled voice. “Addy, are you in there?”

  Without giving Sarah enough time to protest, she fumbled with the lock and flung the door open. Thomas Cooper burst into the workroom. He slammed the door shut behind him and relocked it, then turned and threw his arms around her. He pressed his lips to the top of her head. “God, you’re all right. I’ve been so worried about you, sweet love.”

  “What happened to you?” She buried her face against his broad chest, inhaling the familiar scent of tobacco, smoke, and the musky scent of cologne. He was okay. He was back in her arms—thank God.

  “It was a nightmare.” He held her tightly, cradling the back of her head with his hand. “We were met by armed men at the Armory this morning. They used the Armory buildings like a prison; marched us in lines and told us that if we moved we’d be shot.”

  She looked up at him. “How did you get away?”

  He stared at her, his blue eyes wide, and then dipped his head down, crushing his lips against hers. “All morning they talked about reinforcements showing up. They promised that the slaves would come and be armed. Finally, we did see people walking across the bridge—but it wasn’t slave reinforcements. It was half the damned town, plus men from Martinsburg and Charlestown.”

  “And they let you go?”

  He nodded and kissed her again. “What’s left of them are holed up in the fire engine house. It was absolute chaos, Adelaide. One of the raiders was literally ripped apart in Hog Alley. There’s blood everywhere.”

  Adelaide shuddered. Shadow specters were drawn to blood; the terror and tragedy drew them in. “Is it really Ossawattomie Brown?”

  “They say they’re going to free the slaves.”

  “He murdered those men in Kansas. What did we do to him? There’s no slaves here, we only have freemen in town. Like Mr. Shepherd.”

  “Shepherd’s dead. Killed on the town side of the bridge; Christ, there’s bodies everywhere out there. I’m just glad to see you’re all right.” He looked down at her, running his index finger lightly across her cheek. “I heard rumor that the raiders were going into homes and dragging people out.”

  “We’re fine. Scared, but intact.”

  “Good.” He pulled her against his body, tucking her head down against his chest. “Where are your father and brother?”

  “Poppa went into Bolivar with Philip Frankel to retrieve guns stored there during the spring floods. Robert is downstairs in the store.”

  “Is he armed?”

  “He’s been down there for hours. He has Poppa’s old flintlock.” Gunfire crackled from outside; she flinched.

  Sarah was still huddled in the hallway. Adelaide heard her cry out, her voice like the mew of a kitten.

  “He needs to rest. I don’t know how much longer this standoff is going to last and if he’s been down there all day, he’s going to be exhausted.” He cradled her against him, gently rubbing her back. “It’s like hell out there; raiders firing into groups of men, indiscriminately blasting around corners and into windows. They’ve…they’ve shot Mr. Beckham. He’s dead.”

  Sarah and Adelaide both gasped. How would killing the mayor help free the slaves? Mr. Beckham was such a dear man, albeit a little high strung, and a wonderful mayor. He always had a smile on his face. Adelaide’s eyes brimmed with tears. “Why would they kill Mr. Beckham? He doesn’t own slaves.”

  “If they can line up a shot, they’re going to take it. It doesn’t matter who they’re aiming at.”

  She pushed up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his. “I’ll take you downstairs. The last thing I need is for my brother to shoot you because he thinks you’re a raider.”

  He caught her hand in his, lacing his fingers around hers and let her pull him to the back staircase, mumbling a quick hello to Sarah as they passed. In the stairwell, he squeezed her hand. “So, you’ll take me? Vulgar girl.”

  She elbowed him, managing to
smile. His humor, his closeness—just having him near her made everything seem better. “Bent on the counter, remember?”

  “I should be so lucky.”

  The staircase ended in a small storage area; a doorway led into the dry goods store. Adelaide made Thomas slow before crossing the threshold. “Robert. I’m coming in.”

  “No, damn it, Addy.” She could hear her brother stomping across the wooden floorboards. “You’re going to end up getting us both shot.”

  He stopped in the doorway and stared, raising his musket up level with Thomas’s chest. His eyes dropped to their intertwined hands. The gun stayed raised. “Who the fuck are you?”

  “Calm down, you idiot.” She almost snarled at Robert. “This is Thomas Cooper. I’m courting him.”

  Thomas caught her eye with his; he smiled broadly, his obvious delight punctuated by his dimple.

  “He’s giving you a reprieve for a while. You should be thankful: he spent his day captive in the Armory, whereas you just sat here in the dark.”

  Robert glared at her, but then turned his focus to Thomas. He finally lowered the musket. “They took you captive?”

  “I work at the Armory. I’m a gun smith. They grabbed us as we crossed into the complex; said they’re here to free the slaves.”

  Robert seemed to consider it. He handed the musket over and craned his neck from side to side, rolling his shoulders back. “The door’s locked. It’s hard to stay covered and peer out the window, but if you get in the right place behind the counter, you can see the Armory complex.”

  “I think I’ve seen enough today of what they did.”

  Robert clapped his hand on Thomas’s shoulder. “We’ll work in shifts. That way we can be both be fresh…just in case. If you have to fire, though, just be careful. The frizzen slips sometimes and it has a nasty habit of misfiring.”

  “I’ll take a look at it. It probably just needs adjusted.”

  Once Robert retreated back up the staircase, Thomas set the musket on the counter and pulled her into his arms. “So, we’re courting?”

  “If you still want me, that is.”

  He leaned over her and started kissing her throat. “Court you…kiss you…make love to you...”

  She sighed softly. His mouth against her felt incredible, his lips so soft and gentle. It was almost enough to make her forget what was going on outside... what she’d felt earlier. She was more interested in feeling Thomas: against her. Inside her.

  Just as her eyes were about to fall closed, she saw movement at the door. It was brief; nothing more than a wisp.

  And then it charged.

  She twisted in his arms, forcing him back from the counter as the creature slammed against the wood. It was snarling and snapping, the jaws dripping with thick, black rot, and clotting blood. Half of the creature’s skull was gone and the blood caked skin flaps shifted each time it thrashed against the counter. It was fixated on them, but it was young; still fumbling and uncertain of how to maneuver its new form.

  Thomas reached out to push her behind him. She jerked away from his grasp and wrenched her watch from her pocket, facing the creature. “Impetro tergum.” Get back.

  The creature stared at her. Its tongue lolled out from its mouth and it growled at her, the jaws moving up and down as if it was trying to speak. What made it human, though, was gone. Its eyes showed little to no recollection of the living world, the iris’s clouded with dried blood and burst cataracts. It foamed, it writhed—but she knew him.

  It was Thomas Boerly.

  “Tu es mortem.” You are death. “You don’t belong here.”

  It snarled at her, eyes watching her movement. It focused in on her pocket watch. In that moment, in that pause between beats of her heart, it lunged at her. It missed, slamming its body against the counter.

  Her brain seared as it again focused on her eyes. She could smell the decay; hear its dying consciousness. Purge. Purge. Not but with blood. Purge.

  Thomas yanked her back from the creature and tried to push her behind him. “My God, Addy, stay back from it!”

  “No, you stay back.” She kept her eyes trained on the creature but slid her free hand to Thomas’s chest, gently pushing him backwards. “Trust me.”

  “Adelaide, I do, but this—“

  “Just stay back.”

  The creature paced back and forth, switching its glare from Adelaide to Thomas. He can’t save you.

  “I’m not asking him to.” Her thumb hovered over the watch clasp. “Go now, or I send you. Nunc vadam aut ego mitto vos.”

  The lips peeled back in a grin, blood oozing through the broken teeth. It’s coming. Purge. It can’t be stopped. Purge. It won’t be stopped. Purge. It will consume. It will consume all.

  Enough.

  She jammed her thumb into the clasp, bracing her arms out in front of her. “The power of Christ protects me, Thomas Boerly, and you will depart this life to the next. May God protect your broken soul. Discedite.” Depart.

  The watch flared red hot against her palm and a burst of light engulfed the creature. It screamed, throwing itself backwards from the wrenching force pulling it across to the next life. Bucking, twitching; digging its claws into the floorboards, the fight was futile. The heat of the watch and the light in the room intensified. And then, it was over.

  The room was silent.

  Adelaide clutched the watch in her hand for a split second—just to make sure the watch face was secure—and then dropped it into her pocket. Her palm was throbbing. There wasn’t time to examine her flesh for burns: that would have to wait. She glanced at Thomas.

  His eyes were wide, his hair tousled from the force of the spirit desecration. He grabbed her hand and pressed her tender palm to his lips. His hands were trembling. “Shit.”

  “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

  “I don’t even know what that was.”

  She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Fuck. This was a problem. In all the years she’d faced spirits and protected the Ferry, not once had someone other than The Six witnessed a spirit crossing over. People wandered around town; they lived their lives in happy naiveté, oblivious to the war around them. They didn’t want to know. Their minds kept them from seeing them: brains filtering out the movement of spirits or the stare of the dead. What they refused to acknowledge, in their minds, couldn’t hurt them.

  How wrong they were.

  She pulled him into her arms, standing on her tiptoes and crushing her lips to his. The kiss deepened and she held him in place, pressing her hands to his cheeks and cradling his face. The caress of his tongue calmed her, it both soothed and excited her. “It’s complicated.”

  “That was Thomas Boerly, I know it was, Adelaide.” He chewed on his lower lips, his brow knitted in a frown. “But he’s dead. I saw the body.”

  “He died twice. He had to, his soul was lost. Confused. And when that happens…the soul comes back. I assure you, though, what you saw was not Thomas Boerly. It was a specter of what he had been in life.” It felt as if she was being too blunt in her explanation, but there wasn’t time to start at the beginning with him. When I was a little girl, I watched my mother send her own father to hell.

  He was staring at her, twisting his lower lip between his thumb and index finger. “You want me to believe that thing was a ghost.”

  “Call it as you want, Thomas, but the important thing is that it’s gone now. It crossed over.”

  “You sent it to hell.”

  “Heaven. Hell, whatever the next life brings.” She shrugged. The details weren’t important, god, if only she could make him understand that fact in a short amount of time. “Death isn’t the end, Thomas. And when they get lost, when they come back, I force them over.”

  He nodded slowly, his eyes searching hers as if he was forcing himself to comprehend what she was saying. He probably was. “I trust you, Adelaide.”

  “I’ve never had to explain this before. I just,” she sighed, “I learned this from my
mother.”

  He wrapped his arms around her and pressed his lips to her forehead. “I don’t have to understand it to believe you, my sweet. That’s the definition of faith.”

  “It’s not just me, it’s Sarah as well and…ah…a few other ladies in town.”

  “You defended me.” His lips curled up into a coy smile, but she could still feel the tremble in his hands as they cupped her waist. “You are quite an enigma, Miss Adelaide Randolph. I think I’d enjoy getting to know every inch of you better.”

  “We can start now.”

  He chuckled, pulling her into an intense kiss. His tongue lapped across hers, his hands pressed her body against him and slid from her hips to her corseted breasts. “It’s my turn to protect you, beautiful girl. You tend to matters of the dead, but I still have to stave off the living raiders. This danger has to end—no one is coming to save us. We have to save ourselves.”

  “Danger is always out there, Thomas. Even when you can’t see it.”

  “We’ll stop Brown. I promise you.”

  She snuggled against him, resting her head against his chest. The sound of his heartbeat soothed her pricked nerves; it brought her down from the panicked rush that consumed her when she faced a spirit. There was no doubt that Thomas would protect her from the raiders.

  She was more worried about the dead, though. Something was coming.

  And she wasn’t convinced she could stop it.

  Chapter 5

  AS DARKNESS FELL over Harpers Ferry, a malevolent feeling permeated the cold, damp air. Adelaide lit several oil lamps and candles to brighten the kitchen and, although it lit up the space, it did little to brighten her spirits. Her body—her very soul—was beyond fatigued. Something had woken up in the Ferry, something that was waiting just outside of her consciousness. It was different than a restless spirit or a lost soul. It scared her.

  Adelaide took pride in not scaring easily. But this? It was different.

  Sarah was starting to doze on the floor, a frying pan, sage bundle, and knife in easy reach. She seemed to give a good example. Adelaide was ready to crawl into bed and forget what was going out outside, to wake up and the raid be over. The souls gone. At this point, she’d be satisfied to put her head on the table and close her eyes for just a moment…