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

by Rebecca Hamilton

  “Killed most of ones I’ve met. If you won’t join me and help my cause, then there’s no reason for me not to kill you too.” A knife appears in his hand.

  How? He’s not a witch, I know he isn’t, and even if he had a vial, he isn’t a shaman either. Can he only use magic like this because this isn’t the real world? Anything can happen in dreams… and in nightmares.

  The knife’s gone from his hand. Where did it go?

  I gasp at the shock of pain that floods my system as the knife buries itself into my stomach. Ignoring the agony, I concentrate on the rock. It shakily floats, and I magically lob it at Mr. Venator’s head.

  With a groan, he collapses. Blood trickles from the corner of his mouth. “This isn’t the end,” he promises before vanishing.

  My arms feel too heavy as I struggle to lift them. My fingers slide on the hilt before I can grasp it enough to remove the knife. My pain doesn’t lessen. Blood gushes from the wound. Somehow, I’m walking toward the tree. My foot slips on the puddle of blood forming beneath me.

  Looks like I will find out whether or not dying here will cause me to die in real life.

  A hand brushes my hair back. When had I closed her eyes? I open them. Vince, dirtier than I’ve ever seen him, handsomer too, kneels before me.

  “You came,” he whispers.

  “I told you I would never leave you.”

  He chokes back a sob. “I thought… Tommy did.”

  “Not by choice.” My hand shakes as I grasp him, my blood coating our joined hands.

  “Never by choice.” He brings my hand to his lips. “You need to sleep now, Crystal.”

  “I am tired.” My voice sounds far away. “But—”

  “Sh.”

  My mind is beginning to turn cloudy. My heartbeat is slowing. I can feel myself slip away. But there’s something I want to say… something I have to say…

  Vince strokes my cheek. “I know you love me.” His voice is so soft I hardly hear him.

  “I know you love me.” My lips won’t cooperate. I can’t smile. The pain vanishes, replaced by a numbness that scares me even more. “Am I dying?”

  He shakes his head. “No. The only one here who can die is me.”

  I struggle to sit up.

  “Don’t move.” Vince eases me back down.

  “How… how can I save you? Get you out of here?”

  “That’s simple. We just have to go to sleep.”

  “And then we’ll be free?”

  “Yes.”

  How can he be so certain? I gulp. Sleep is so tempting, but what if I never wake up? “Will we remember everything that went on here?” I ask, stalling.

  “I won’t. You might.”

  So he won’t know I love him. I pray I’ll have the chance to tell him again.

  “Go to sleep now,” he urges.

  “Not without you,” I mumble.

  Vince lies down beside me, and we cuddle. Too exhausted to fight it any longer, I fall asleep within seconds.

  Chapter 37

  WHEN I OPEN my eyes, I’m back in the clearing, my body whole and pain-free. Vince’s head rests on my lap, and I caress his cheek. He feels warm, his chest rising and falling, his heartbeat strong.

  “She’s trying to save him,” Gavin says, and I glance up to see him standing with the witches.

  “It’s not possible,” Sapphire Belladonna says. “That curse is—”

  Has no time passed?

  I clear my throat, and they look over. “He’s sleeping now.”

  Sapphire Belladonna grimaces. Her disbelief wounds me.

  Silver Tiger smiles like the giant cat she’s named after. She walks over and stares at Vince then touches his forehead. “She’s right.” There’s no trace of surprise in her voice. Her smile grows even larger, haughtier. “Didn’t I not tell you that you can do anything?”

  I’m too happy to be annoyed she’s claiming some of the credit. “Thank you all for coming. I’m glad Mom was able to send you word.”

  Silver Tiger frown. “I haven’t seen Patricia in many years.”

  My grin dies. “Then how did you know I needed your help?”

  “Scrying.” Sapphire Belladonna glides over.

  “You’re still spying on me?”

  Sapphire Belladonna opens her mouth.

  I hold up my hand. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter.” Careful not to jar Vince, I grab my cell and dial Mom. It goes straight to voicemail.

  I lean down and kiss Vince’s forehead. As much as I hate being separated from him, I have to find out what happened to Mom. A sinking feeling fills my stomach. I long to rouse him, but he would have too many questions, and his waking up here would cause him so much confusion. If letting him sleep longer saves him from fear, I’m more than willing to wait to be reunited with him.

  “Gavin.”

  He approaches. “What do you need?”

  “Take Vince home. Try to keep him asleep.”

  “What should I tell his parents?”

  I shrug. “You guys had to leave the fire hall to get something. Then you decided to get some coffee and dessert after setting up for the memorial. Lost track of time, your cell phones died. I don’t know. Make up something.”

  “Will do.” He smiles.

  His willingness to help me makes me feel badly. His father hadn’t lied. Gavin does care for me deeply. I can see it in his face. “Thank you. You’re a wonderful friend.”

  His smile spreads from cheek to cheek. “Friends are overrated. I don’t need them, remember?”

  I laugh and squeeze Vince’s hand as Gavin struggles to lift him.

  After I jump to my feet, I magically lift Vince for him. How can I feel so strong after the abuse my imagined body went through?

  Gavin returns to the car, and I slip Vince into the backseat. “Put his seat belt on,” I call.

  He does and drives away.

  Loneliness fills me, an emptiness that only my loved ones can fill. A wave of exhaustion sweeps over me, and I sway.

  “Relax. You’re doing too much.” Silver Tiger grabs my arm.

  I brush her away. “I’ll be fine. I can do anything, right?”

  Is that… concern in the witch’s eyes?

  “Before Gavin and I came here, I asked my mom to go to the mountain to find you.” I swallow hard. Vince is safe, but Mom might not be.

  “Then we’ll go to the cottage.” Sapphire Belladonna touches my shoulder. “I’m sure she’s fine.”

  I take a long look around the clearing and into the surrounding darkness of the forest. I’m about to leave the place where I had been fated to die. A sense of invincibility empowers me. Nothing can stop me. I will find Mom, and all will be well again.

  The four of us leap upward and tear through the air, the wind frigid but not nearly as cold as it had been in Vince’s mind. Although we have a great distance to travel, it feels like the journey only takes a minute before we land in front of the cottage, the door half off the hinges.

  “We’ll go first,” Amethyst Wolf says.

  I ignore her. “Mom!” I hurry inside, the witches on my heels.

  The cottage is ransacked, the furniture overturned, mirror broken, the keepsakes from the mantel shattered against the floor.

  “She’s not here,” I whisper to myself.

  “Do not fret, child. We can do a spell to learn what happened here.”

  I’m not paying them any attention, not even sure which one spoke. I approach the mantel and stare at my reflection through the large spidery cracks of the mirror. There’s some dirt on the glass, and I wipe it away with my hand.

  Not dirt. Dried blood.

  Imbedded into the crack is a strand of reddish blonde hair. Mom made it to the cottage. Where did she go? And did she go willingly?

  “Spell?” I repeat. “What is it? Let me help.”

  The witch sisters right the couch, and Silver Tiger bodily forces me to sit on it.

  “Conserve your strength,” Silver Tiger says. “We ca
n handle this.”

  I want to argue, but she’s right, plus I’m exhausted. My eyes close despite my trying to stay awake, and I enter a trance-like state. I’m not sleeping, but I’m not completely awake either. I can see and hear the witches, even though it’s dark and they’re muffled, like through sunglasses and ear muffs.

  They hold hands and chant, “Time rewind and give us new eyes. Give us insight into the past. Time rewind and give us new eyes. Give us insight into the past. Time rewind and give us new eyes. Give us insight into the past.”

  The air in the cottage shifts and becomes older, staler. The furniture rights itself, and the door closes.

  Knock, knock. The door opens. I almost abandon my trance when I see Mom.

  She looks around, anxiety written in the lines on her forehead and around her mouth. “Elizabeth?” She closes the door and walks around the cottage before sitting down on the couch beside me.

  Every five minutes or so, Mom gets up, paces for a little, and then sits down again. During her third pacing, the door slams open, and several unfamiliar men and women flood the cottage.

  Silver Tiger mutters something.

  Mom jumps to her feet. “Who are you?”

  A man glares at her and shoves his trench coat behind him. “Who are you?” His voice is raspy. He furrows his unibrow at her.

  Mom silently sits down.

  More people enter. A woman walks over to the mantel and, with one sweep of her hand, knocks off all of the keepsakes from it. Most break, shattering into several pieces.

  “Stop!” Mom stands again. “What are you doing here? What do you want?”

  “For one thing, for you to shut up.” The unibrow man removes an open zipper from his pocket and zips it shut.

  Mom’s lips form an impossibly small, thin line. She visibly makes an effort to talk but isn’t able to.

  Several of the people trash the cottage, and it’s evident they’re looking for something or someone.

  The witches. They thought they were hiding somewhere.

  Which meant the people have to be shamans.

  Of all nights, they picked this night to battle the witches, the night when Mom’s alone in the witches’ cottage, the night when a rogue shaman kidnaps Vince, the night before the memorial service.

  A few minutes later, the cottage looks almost identical to when we entered. All of the shaman leave the cottage save for the unibrow man and the mantel woman.

  The man stomps over to Mom. He holds up the zipper and opens it. “Where are they?”

  She crosses her arms and taps her foot. “Do you think I would tell you?”

  The woman slaps her. “Where are they?”

  “If I knew where they were, don’t you think I would be with them?”

  I have to snicker. Mom giving the shamans lip is hilarious.

  “She’s useless. We might as well get rid of her,” the woman says.

  “I’d like to see you try.” Mom doesn’t sound, or look, the least bit frightened. Love floods me, giving me more strength and energy.

  The woman tilts her head back and roars with laughter. “What can you do to stop us? You’re nothing.”

  “Nothing?” Mom says calmly.

  I’m anything but calm. Now completely removed from my trance, I stand beside my ghost-like mother’s form, wishing I could give her some of my power.

  If something happened to Mom while I saved Vince…

  But I hadn’t realized that sending Mom to the cottage would be dangerous.

  Even so, Mom needed me and I hadn’t been there. What kind of a poor excuse of a daughter am I?

  Mom stares at the floor in front of the mantel.

  The man shrugs. “Do what you want. We don’t have time for this. Something must have tipped them off.”

  A broken figurine on the floor slowly spins in a circle.

  Mom focuses on the woman. “If you kill me, you’ll never know where they are.”

  The woman wrinkles her nose. “You know nothing.”

  The figurine floats an inch off the floor then falls back down.

  “Are you willing to take that risk?” Mom asks.

  The woman’s lips twist into a cruel smile. “I’ve been known as a risk taker. Might as well live dangerously.”

  “You like danger? Here’s some danger.” Mom holds out her hand, and the figurine jumps into it.

  I gasp. Mom finally found a way past her mental block!

  She smashes the figurine on top of the woman’s head.

  The woman’s eyes turn red. She grabs Mom by the neck and shoves her backward, their feet practically hovering above the air they move so quickly. The woman only stops after Mom’s head connects with a mirror hanging on the wall, the impact shattering it.

  I try to yank the woman away from Mom, but my hands go through her ghost-like form.

  “Stop fooling around. They aren’t here,” unibrow orders.

  “That was obvious a while ago,” the woman snaps.

  “We should leave. If you want to kill her, kill her.”

  “Go ahead.” Mom’s voice sounds hoarse as the woman still holds her pinned against the mirror.

  “She obviously knows the witches. She may prove useful,” the woman says disgustedly, as if she would rather kill Mom and be rid of her.

  “Then bring her, but she’s your responsibility.”

  The woman physically drags Mom behind her. Mom grabs ahold of the door.

  The woman yanks her hair. “Don’t press your luck. If I decide you don’t deserve oxygen, you’ll die of suffocation. I’ve killed many a witch by various means. I can figure out a new way to kill one especially for you.”

  They leave the cottage and disappear. The spell ends.

  “Shamans,” I say, hoping one of the witches will disagree.

  “We’ve been keeping an eye on the perimeter of the city,” Sapphire Belladonna says. “In the last two weeks, shamans were spotted in nearby cities, but none made a move near Mount Claymore. Although it’s rare for so many shamans to be in such close proximity, we thought it harmless as long as they didn’t set foot within the town.”

  I can’t contain my rising temper. “You didn’t think I should have known about this before now?”

  “We didn’t want to worry you,” Silver Tiger says.

  I throw my hands up. “I thought you wanted me to be protected and safe. How can that happen when I don’t know an enemy is closing in?”

  Silver Tiger’s eyes flashes. “An enemy? What other enemies do you mean? We took care of Stormtide tonight.”

  “Yeah, but there’s also Mr. Venator.” And I’m still not convinced all witches want what’s best for me. I turn to Sapphire Belladonna. “You said shamans don’t normally gather in groups, but they must have before in order for there to be a longstanding war between them and…” I gasp and cover my mouth with my hands. “They want to fight another battle,” I whisper, my words muffled.

  “No, my dear,” Sapphire Belladonna says softly. “They want to fight the final battle.”

  Chapter 38

  I GULP. FINAL sounded so… well, final.

  My lips turn downward, and I shake my head. “I don’t understand. The shamans know about me, but they didn’t know that Patricia is my mom.”

  “They know of you. They’re drawn to your magic,” Silver Tiger says.

  “As we all are,” Amethyst Wolf adds.

  Enough talking. I rub my hands together. “Let’s go find—”

  The door slams opened.

  “I can’t believe it. She was actually telling the truth.”

  That voice. It belongs to the woman from the vision of the past.

  I start toward the door. Silver Tiger grabs my arm and shakes her head. The witch brings her finger to her lip and points to the couch. The idea of hiding makes me want to rip out my hair—or maybe Silver Tiger’s—but I kneel behind the couch and wait.

  The man and woman from earlier waltz inside the cottage. The man steps before Sapphire Bel
ladonna. “Where is it?”

  I bristle. It? Does he mean me?

  “Where is Patricia Miller?” Silver Tiger cuts in.

  My opinion of the witch increases by several notches. Maybe she isn’t as mean-spirited as I think she is.

  “That woman who fancies herself a witch but can barely control her magic? I killed her,” the woman says, her tone nonchalant and matter-of-fact, unmoving, uncaring.

  Without thinking, I leap to my feet. “You better not have,” I warn, my voice low, my tone dangerous.

  The woman sizes me up. “Who are you?” she asks in a bored tone.

  Silver Tiger glowers at me. Even Sapphire Belladonna doesn’t appear pleased. I don’t bother to look at Amethyst Wolf.

  “No one,” I finally say after a short pause.

  “Aren’t you a creative liar? No one.” The woman smirks and walks over to me, a good six inches taller than my five-feet frame.

  “Moonshine, leave her be. She’s of no consequence to us.”

  I stare the woman down as best I can from my shorter height. As long as I keep my emotions in check and don’t accidentally leak magic, the shamans won’t realize I’m the one they’re searching for.

  Moonshine steps back to stand beside the man as a unified front. The three witches face them. The soft hum of magic fills the air between them. If I walk there, I know I’ll have no control of myself, and my true form will be revealed.

  “Patricia Miller is not dead,” Silver Tiger says. “She and I are bound together as blood sisters. I would know if she had been killed.”

  “If you two truly are blood sisters, you would not need to ask where she is,” Moonshine counters.

  I sit on the couch and pretend to ignore the power struggle.

  “We’re not here because of this Patricia,” the man interjects.

  “Actually, we are. Before I sliced her throat, she said it would only be a matter of time before you wenches returned to your quaint little dwelling place.” Moonshine sneers.

  I glance up at Silver Tiger through blurry, tear-filled eyes. Silver Tiger does not look alarmed in the slightest. Does that mean the woman is bluffing?

  “Why are you here?” Sapphire Belladonna asks.