Mistwalker

by Fraser, Naomi

  MISTWALKER

  Copyright © 2013 by Naomi Fraser

  All rights reserved.

  KINDLE EDITION

  ISBN: 978-0-9875484-1-2

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or now known or hereafter invented, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Warning: this book is written in Australian English, or U.K. English, so those familiar with only American English will find some spelling differences.

  Cover Design and Interior Format by

  The Killion Group

  www.thekilliongroupinc.com

  Acknowledgments

  I would like to thank many people for helping me create this book. My partner, Brad Littlewood for standing by me, my children, especially my eldest daughter, Rhiana for telling me when it dragged, my parents who let me read so much as a child, the wonderful people from my critique loop, to all my friends, and Rebecca Allman who read the final pages.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty One

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Chapter Twenty Four

  Chapter Twenty Five

  Chapter Twenty Six

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  Chapter Twenty Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty One

  Chapter Thirty Two

  Chapter Thirty Three

  Chapter Thirty Four

  Chapter Thirty Five

  Chapter Thirty Six

  Chapter Thirty Seven

  Chapter Thirty Eight

  Chapter Thirty Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty One

  Chapter Forty Two

  Chapter Forty Three

  Chapter Forty Four

  Chapter Forty Five

  Chapter Forty Six

  Epilogue

  Author Bio

  Chapter One

  Blood spattered the stone arches beneath St. Augustine Chapel.

  The mess stopped Juliun cold. His gaze flicked to the pool of blood on the floor, footprints of it in the compacted earth. He eyed the bloodied handprints on the grey bricks with the certainty he’d arrived too late to save his friend. He ran so fast down the tunnels that he blurred. Further into the passageway, tangled human and vampire skeletons were carelessly tossed against the walls.

  An encounter with a goblin at the nightclub, The Python, led Juliun here. Now he didn’t know what to expect, looking at so many broken bones as pale as snow. But he’d never seen snow. At least, not in daylight. All he possessed were pictures, photographs, movies and dreams.

  His senses expanded, and he picked up the bitter, rotting scent of a dying vampire. He swept through numerous red puddles, deep into the bowels beneath the chapel. He found a door, locked and barred. The wood evaporated into mist, but so did he.

  Juliun reappeared inside the tunnel in a black cloud and stalked into the cavern.

  A pale, thin body lay curled up in the corner of a cage against the far wall.

  “Lars, I have come for you. Open your eyes,” Juliun said, crouching low so Lars could look at him. “Quickly, we must leave here.”

  Silence.

  Then a command, “Lars, open your eyes. Look at me. Talk to me. Tell me you are living.”

  Lars’ eyelashes flickered, and he whispered through cracked lips, “Prince Juliun?” He moaned, and a wide length of heavy chain jangled to the floor between his bound and whittled ankles. “Blood. Too long.” It was the last sigh of the damned.

  “Yes.” Tiny dots of fire danced down Juliun’s spine, but he banked the anger. They both instantly disappeared, and then took form at the Gothic Festival.

  Juliun looked around. Perfect.

  ***

  It should have been easy to locate a loud blonde in a black corpse bride’s veil.

  Simone’s skin chilled with sweat, and she shivered. People spilled from the closing nightclubs onto the orange-lit streets. The clinking of chains and boots rattled over the din of the crowd. She held her breath against clouds of stale smoke and walked back through the partygoers toward the nightclub’s entrance.

  Whitby’s Gothic Festival had been a fantastic lark so far with Tammy and her crazy ways. Dancing and drinking the night away, the assortment of costumes and faces never-ending. But her friend had disappeared. Gone out for a breath of air, supposedly, and Simone couldn’t find her.

  What if she’d gone for good?

  Simone shook her head, unwilling to let that dark thought take root inside her mind. Sweat beaded her brow, and she stepped up the dew-slicked stoop, then cupped her mouth in a mock loudspeaker.

  “Tammy, where are you?”

  The bouncer twisted, then leered at her cleavage rounding the top of her tight corset. “You called, love?”

  “No.” She sighed and pulled up her velvet sleeve. 12.30 AM.

  Thirty minutes until she had to meet Marcus Dooley at The Black Dog. She tapped her heels, the distant tune of Rocky Horror Picture Show’s ‘Time Warp’ keeping pace with her anxious heart. She didn’t think she’d finally return home, except in the small hours of dawn when she’d jack-knife awake from that nightmare. Her heart pounding; body sweat-slicked beneath the blankets. Wondering…why the darkness was so overwhelming and sleep always eluded her.

  A hand grabbed hers from the mass of bodies. “Hey, stop,” Simone growled and stood firm, then pulled back.

  “Simone, wait—” Tammy laughed and jostled out with her fair hair and black veil. Her heavily kohl-lined eyes emphasized the intensity of her baby-blues. “It’s only me, but I feel lucky I made it out alive.”

  Simone sighed. Clever girl. Not all of us do. She tucked her right hand in the curve of Tammy’s lace-clad elbow, and then Simone lifted the skirt of her Lady Bathory costume and descended the stoop to join her friend. “Are you all right? Where’d you disappear to?”

  “Outside,” Tammy said, nonchalantly. “Checking out some guys, hoping to score, but I got stuck beneath a horde of vampire cloaks. I’m too short, and this town is lousy with weirdos in capes.”

  Simone grimaced. “Whitby isn’t…well, it doesn’t matter now. I have to hurry to meet this guy before the pub shuts.”

  Tammy flicked her platinum blonde hair over her shoulder—a well-practiced move that showed off her gorgeous profile, and tonight the black veil didn’t hamper the effect. Her shoulders slumped a little. “Why’s he making you do it on New Year’s Eve? I wanted to go out and have a little fun.”

  “Bad luck, I guess. It doesn’t matter. You go. I just wanted to let you know where I was going. Make sure you were all right
.”

  Tammy stopped and rifled through her plastic skull clutch. White receipts fluttered to the ground and at once were trampled on by the mob. “Who do I have to do around here to get a smoke? It’s going to be murder getting a cab. I didn’t even get a date,” Tammy muttered, making it sound like a moral failing. “Not a measly stinkin’ phone number. Brilliant night, though. How come you never told me this sort of thing went on around here? I would’ve come sooner.”

  “I wanted...” Simone trailed off and shook her head.

  A tight band of pain pulsed around her heart at the unbidden memory of her mother’s dead green eyes staring up at the night sky. Her wonderful soft skin, so cold and pale. Blue lips. Long red hair soaking wet, and stuck to the ground in spidery tendrils of red and rain so similar to her blood leaking between the cobblestones. That total vulnerability of death.

  She lifted her teary gaze to the crescent moon; a milky white gleam behind the abbey. No hounds bayed upon the sea cliff, but the towers were jagged and ancient. Dark and ungodly.

  The old tales warned of the undead who roamed the streets at night, but she’d never indulged in such fanciful thoughts. There were enough living predators in this town for her to worry about.

  “I never thought I would be back here again,” she finished.

  The street lamps buzzed before the ever-present fog swallowed the glow. She rubbed her arms, but nothing stopped the cold and familiar breeze which intertwined the smell of her childhood and pain.

  “Let’s catch a cab together. We’ll make it to the fireworks afterwards,’ Tammy said. “It’s better if we go together.”

  Simone groaned. “Yeah. Good luck with that, hon. Check out the line-up.”

  A queue of disorderly people snaked down the pavement along the main road leading to the T junction. The line disappeared around a shop corner veiled in darkness. Drunks sat on the curb, gagging the contents of their stomachs into the gutter. Yellow taxis rolled to the head of the line where a traffic warden waved a light stick better than a marching girl.

  Simone ran a hand through her windswept hair. No other taxis trolled the area; they were all lined up at the rank. She had considered the possibility of no transport. Whitby was a small town, and the Gothic Festival attracted thousands each year. Only taxis were permitted to drive, and even then, they still had trouble navigating the narrow streets. She’d hoped by leaving the club earlier, it would be easier to get a ride.

  There was nothing she could do about it now. She was only here for one thing, and it was about time she remembered that. It would take longer to walk back to her rented car at the parking lot on the hill than to go straight to the pub and meet her informant, Marcus. She wouldn’t get there on time anyway. Finding the truth about her mother’s death was more important than waiting in line for a taxi.

  “I’ll have to walk it. I shouldn’t be long,” Simone said. “Where do you want meet up later?”

  Tammy’s blue eyes searched hers. “You’ve got that look in your eye. Last time I saw it you put Rick Peterson in hospital.” Her brow creased. “What happened here, Simone? Why wouldn’t you be fine?”

  “It’s okay, forget about it.” Simone sighed. “Have you got enough cash to get to the unit?” She pushed her hair out of her face. “How about I—”

  “No—” Tammy placed her hand on Simone’s arm.

  Simone reached into her bag for some notes. “Or maybe go to the fireworks and pick up a guy?” She laughed.

  Tammy waved away the money, a sudden stillness on her face. “I didn’t mean that. I meant, no, I’m not forgetting about it, and no, I’m not leaving you by yourself here.”

  “I can’t guarantee you’ll be safe.” Simone looked into her friend’s eyes. “We agreed you’d stay with the crowd.”

  Tammy snorted, chuckled a bit, and her eyebrows quirked. In the moonlight, she looked slightly insane with her grey makeup and black costume. “You mean how you insisted?” She smiled. “Yeah, I didn’t agree with that. And you don’t need to guarantee my safety. If this town is as bad as you’re making out, then you’re going to need my help. I know you’re kick-ass and all that with your martial arts training, but I’m not stupid. That’s why I’m here, as back up.”

  “No,” Simone insisted, emphatically. “Why don’t you—”

  “I’ll be all right. I’m coming with,” Tammy said, lowering her voice to that of a confidant. “Stop talking and start walking or you’re going to be late.”

  But Simone couldn’t do it. “I’d rather be late than have something happen to you,” she muttered. “You have no idea what this place is like.”

  “I would have seen worse, trust me,” Tammy murmured. “I’ll be fine. Nothing’s going to go down tonight.”

  Simone sighed and grew quiet as she thought about it. She taught others how to defend themselves every day. Maybe she was being too paranoid? “All right. At least we’ll be together, I guess. But if I say ‘run,’ then you run your ass off. No stopping.”

  “No stopping,” Tammy promised with a cheeky grin.

  Simone sucked in a breath, blinked away the tears gathering in her eyes and then nodded. She led the way against the flood of people, ignoring wolf whistles and catcalls from men too drunk to follow through on their boasts.

  Five minutes elapsed before the passers-by dwindled to a few stragglers, and a couple of full taxis sped past, disturbing the cold moisture on the street.

  Their stiletto boots click-clacked loudly on the paver stone, and the noise echoed off all the huddled curio shops. Their box window eyes stared across at each other in the narrow street, looking tiny compared to the buildings Simone remembered from her childhood.

  The street wound around higher, and she turned to study the abbey. Watching and waiting, the imposing stone monument had an eagle eye’s view of the tangled streets below. The cemetery spread before the ruins, headstones like shadowed flags of the dead.

  Simone hugged her arms and kept moving.

  Tammy stopped to gawk through the tourist shop windows. “I should’ve brought more credit cards with me. This stuff is incredible.” Her warm breath misted up the display window which showcased bones spread over a black table. Glasses of red wine glistened in the orange candlelight, empty chairs askew as if the proprietors would pop back within seconds.

  If incredible meant strange and eerie, then Simone agreed wholeheartedly.

  Tammy pressed a finger to the glass and sketched a love heart in the mist. “Gotta take a souvenir home for ma and pa.” She turned, sporting a sly grin. “A full length skeleton as a husband. Just think, don’t have to feed him, talk to him, iron his damn clothes…bloody perfection. Sign me up, gorgeous,” she whispered to the dangling skeleton in the corner of the display. “He’d always have a boner.”

  Simone laughed, and a cold wind trickled across her neck. She shivered, smelling the damp that signalled oncoming rain. “Let’s hurry. I want to get a good spot on the beach before the fireworks kick off.”

  “We’ve got no hope. The beach will be packed. Doesn’t bother me though as long as there are guys cruising around.” Tammy’s gaze locked on Simone’s. “I’m bringing someone home tonight.”

  “As long as we get home…and I get the information I need, you can do whatever you like. Or should that be, whoever you like.” Simone laughed again and brushed the strands of red hair from her eyes. “But, let’s run to this pub. We’ll get there faster. We’re a little late.”

  Tammy forehead wrinkled, and her eyes narrowed. “Let’s what?”

  “Run.”

  “You’re outta your mind,” Tammy breathed. She kicked out a six-inch spiked boot from beneath the train of her corpse bridal costume and pointed for emphasis. “See these heels? If I run anywhere in them, I’ll break both my bloody ankles and my neck. No thanks.”

  “Are they hurting your feet? Take them off.”

  “Uh-uh. I don’t know what could be on the ground.”

  “Stone.”

  He
r friend huffed and walked on with smaller steps. “Don’t panic. You’re going to make it.”

  “Well, I think we need to get—”

  A shadowy silhouette slipped from the cloak of darkness between the buildings, then melted into the night. It happened so fast, Simone blinked, unsure if she’d seen correctly. Usually, there wasn’t much she missed.

  “Tammy. Stop.”

  The wind grabbed the sound of a muted shout of triumph, twisting it higher, until a different cry, one so pain-filled that Simone flinched, then tapered off into a tortured moan.

  A sliver of white burst from her mouth, and she grabbed Tammy’s arm. “I want you to turn back now. Don’t worry about me.”

  Muscles rippled and jumped in Tammy’s arm. Simone lifted her fingers, confused. “What’s up with your arm?”

  Tammy frowned and pulled back. “Nothing. Someone’s up ahead. We must be on the right track. Damn, you’re skittish. I got your back. I told you, I’m not leaving you alone.” Tammy didn’t bother leaning closer or lowering her voice. “Maybe it’s people walking back from that pub you’re after. They’ve gotten into a fight. I heard broken glass.”

  “Did you? I didn’t. Be careful. Follow me,” Simone said. “We’re going back.” She turned around for the centre of town, and the darkness opened up in a yawning pit. Why wouldn’t her feet move? If they headed back to town, they would be safe, but she wouldn’t get the information on her mother that she needed to fill in the gaps of her memory. What had happened that dreadful night twenty years ago?

  Who killed her? Yet if they continued, another terrifying scene could come to pass—one Simone had barely lived through and never truly escaped.

  The vacant pavement on both sides of the narrow street hemmed them in with the fading glow from a few cracked streetlights. Cold, wet sea mist surged down the empty street. “We have to go back,” she whispered, more to herself. “Maybe I can meet him another time.”

  Tammy nudged her against their secluded spot. “What in another ten years? Don’t worry; it’s probably some trigger happy idiot playing peek-a-boo in a ratty trench coat. Keep going or we’re not going to make it.”