Legends of the Damned: A Collection of Edgy Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance Novels

by Lindsey R. Loucks

  Epilogue

  Some many years later…

  At eighty-four Alyx was having trouble walking as fast as she used to, but Israel was always there at her side, his arm around her, patiently walking beside her.

  Their children and grandkids had just left their little villa in their retirement village in southern Prague. It was getting late. Very late. Both of them could feel the pull of the next life.

  They dressed as they usually did for bed. Israel held up the blankets for her as she slipped in before he made his way over to his side. Alyx got a flash of the first time they had lain next to each other…

  Alyx listened as Israel’s breath deepened until she was sure he was sleep. Only then did she garner enough courage to roll on her back, where she was more comfortable. Israel was also on his back, his face turned towards her. Asleep, his features were softened and he looked at peace. His jaw slackened, causing his bottom lip to pout, his long lashes shaded over his cheeks and his scar. That scar. Her fingers itched to touch it. Did she dare?

  Alyx tore her eyes away from him and forced herself not to look back. Above her the ceiling was painted with wisps of clouds, a full moon and an angel flying across the stars.

  She let out a soft sigh as she glanced to the ceiling of her room where wisps of clouds, a full moon and a flying angel were painted across it. She had insisted that they put that in, a replica of one that had been on the ceiling in the old Regent Theater, the place their love first grew. When asked by her children why she wanted this exact painting, she simply said that it reminded her of where it all began, confusing them all because their children knew that Alyx and Israel had met on the steps of Saint Paul’s Cathedral, where she had taken a blow to the head. Then as fate would have it, they had met again on the train to Prague a few days later. Alyx had shared a secret smile with Israel before he’d told them to just “do what makes your mother happy.”

  In bed Israel pulled Alyx into her nook against his chest. She could hear his heart beating, that beautiful melody.

  “So, angel,” Israel said, his deep baritone shaking slightly.

  “So…”

  “We had a good life, didn’t we?”

  “We did. A wonderfully boring mortal life.”

  Israel laughed. “You know there was nothing boring about it.”

  Alyx grinned up at him. “I know.”

  “And now that we are at the very end, tell me…was it worth it?”

  Alyx knew exactly what he meant. She smiled, remembering the words he had once said to her. Even if it doesn’t last forever, it’s worth it.

  “Oh,” she breathed, “it was so worth it.”

  Israel pressed his lips to her forehead. She sighed, her chest filling with love and contentment. “I could listen to your heart beat forever,” she whispered.

  He smiled, and even through his wrinkled face she could still see the young man she fell in love with all those years ago.

  “I love you, Alyx.”

  “In this life and the last.”

  “And for whatever comes after.”

  She brushed her own frail fingers across his top lip, where once upon a lifetime there had been a scar, and she felt his last breath ease from him. If you die, I die, she thought.

  As she exhaled one last time and closed her eyes, she felt a warm, loving presence with them both.

  Just outside the window of Alyx and Israel’s bedroom there was a small gathering of angels and one blue-skinned demon who stood among the sunflowers, all hidden under the invisible cloak of Mirage magic. They watched in a reverent silence as two old friends they loved so very much said their goodbyes to each other. Then they bowed their heads as the two souls who they all owed their very lives to flickered out and left this Earth for the last time.

  So, Alyx and Israel got to love each other. They got their chance like every other soul on this planet, to live and love and to do it well, however brief mortal lives are.

  Sometimes great loves get to last a lifetime. Sometimes they don’t, torn apart too soon. There are no guarantees in this life. Or for what comes after. But that doesn’t matter. We already know that all great loves, no matter how “normal”, are never boring. And all great loves, even if they don’t last forever, are so so worth it.

  The End

  Go back to where Alyx and Israel’s story all began, starting with Dark Angel book one, Angelfire.

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  About the Author

  Hanna is the International bestselling author of the Dark Angel fantasy series. She writes what she believes: good people can do bad things, ordinary people can do great things, and choose love above everything.

  If not writing, she can be found wandering a dusty market in Marrakesh or trekking a mountain in Peru, often using her travels as settings in her novels.

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  All the Pretty Ghosts

  Jamie Campbell

  Copyright © 2015 Jamie Campbell

  Jamie Campbell asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the author.

  All the Pretty Ghosts

  What if all the adults were wiped out and children ran the world? Be careful what you wish for...

  Everly Hilton can see ghosts. Lucky for her, she needs them now more than ever. After the Event swept through the world, wiping out the entire adult population, it became a child's world.

  * * *

  Now, it's up to Everly to bridge the gap between the living and dead--and with so many departed adults, she can barely handle her ability.

  * * *

  To understand what caused the horrific event, Everly is forced to listen to the ghosts to keep the children alive.

  * * *

  But with time running out, she needs help. Is Everly's connection to spirits closer than she ever imagined?

  Quote

  Ghosts crowd around the square at night

  Waiting, waiting, to give you a fright,

  Be careful when you see the dark,

  It just might be a spirit, having a lark.

  Chapter One

  All these people were seriously starting to tick me off. They never shut up. It was a constant chatter that formed the soundtrack to my pointless, miserable life.

  Just one minute alone, that was all I needed. If I could have that minute I would be able to breathe. I could take a deep breath and be still for a moment. It wasn’t much to ask but it seemed the likelihood of getting my wish was practically non-existent.

  “What do you think she’s doing?”

  “What does it look like she’s doing? She’s reading a damn book. Put your glasses on already.”

  “I don’t need glasses. I can see her perfectly well.”

  “Sure you can. You’ve been telling me that story for years now.”

  I called those two the happy young couple. Even though they weren’t happy, nor were they young. Old, bitter, and annoying were the three words that described them perfectly. But that wouldn’t be polite, would it?

  If they didn’t shut up soon I was going to run for the edge of the cliff and throw myself over. That’s what I had wanted to do for almost a year now. So far, I managed to refrain but I feared that day would arrive soon.

  Very soon.

  Especially if they didn’t shut up. “Be quiet. Everyone, can yo
u please just be quiet?”

  “She’s trying to read, y’all.”

  “What’s so good about a book anyway? Can a book hug you goodnight?”

  “A book opens the mind, it expands the conscious.”

  “For what? A lobotomy?” Chuckles filtered through the crowd.

  “She should be going into the city, that’s what she should be doing.”

  “There’s nothing there for her anymore.”

  “She’s happy here, with us.”

  “Does she look happy?”

  “I don’t think she’s happy.”

  Well that worked well.

  Apparently, instead of shushing them, I had given the group a new topic of conversation. Everyone, all forty-three of them, seemed to have an opinion about what I should and shouldn’t do. I knew from experience they could go on for hours debating the merits of how I chose to live my life.

  I desperately tried to concentrate on my book. It was the only way I could drown them out. If the book was good enough, I could escape for at least twenty minutes before they started creeping in again.

  “We should get her out of the house. A seventeen year old girl should not be cooped up inside with all of us.”

  “She doesn’t want to go out. We can’t force her.”

  “We can encourage her.”

  “She’s old enough to make her own decisions, leave the poor girl alone.”

  “We should play cards. Who’s up for some poker?”

  “Poker, yeah right. No way.”

  “Someone needs to watch Everly and make sure she’s okay.”

  I snapped the book closed, today was not going to be the day for reading. Clearly, my housemates had other plans. “Seriously, you should all go and play cards. I need some peace and quiet.”

  They all looked at me, all forty-three of them. If I ever wanted an audience I wouldn’t have to go far. Pity I wasn’t a precocious, spoiled brat, I probably would have enjoyed it.

  “I just need some time alone. Please?” I begged them. I would have crawled down on my hands and knees if I thought that would help.

  But it wouldn’t.

  It never did.

  “She wants some quiet time.”

  “Apparently we annoy her.”

  “It was you, Bill, with your big mouth.”

  “I don’t have a big mouth.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “Who says?”

  A wind whipped up and knocked on the door, a big banging sound that couldn’t be mistaken for anything else. I opened my book and leaned back in my chair. There was no way I was going to answer the door.

  Not today and not any other day.

  “Someone’s at the door.”

  “You should answer it, Everly.”

  “You can’t ignore it.”

  “Come on, he came all this way.”

  “Hurry or he’ll leave.”

  “He might not come around next time.”

  I sat back up again. “I’m not answering it. Now shush.”

  Agatha, one of the few voices of reason amongst them, stood by the arm of my chair. “Everly, honey, you really need to answer the door.”

  “I can’t. If it’s him, he’ll go away again. He always does… eventually.” It wasn’t a topic open for discussion. Oliver and I always played the same game. He would trudge all the way up the hill to stand at my door and I would ignore him.

  It’s how we rolled.

  “Maybe today you should speak with him.” Her eyes were caring as they looked at me gently.

  “Today is no different than all the other days.”

  “But it is and you know it,” Agatha argued with me. She was right but I didn’t want to admit it. “It’s time to talk to him.”

  I really didn’t want it to be the time that I spoke with Oliver. The general consensus amongst everyone was that I should. But they said that every time he came to the door.

  The only person I listened to was Agatha because I was certain she was the only sane one in the house. And that included me, too. She gave me a slow nod, patting my arm silently to tell me I needed to do it.

  “Fine, if it will shut everyone up,” I grumbled as I placed my book on the table and stood. They made a pathway for me to get through so I could make it to the door. They were all nosy enough to stick around and listen to every word we said.

  My hand hovered on the doorknob as the person on the other side made my heart race. He called out my name and I knew without a doubt it was indeed Oliver. I should have known, nobody else ever came to visit me. Even the mailman had long since stopped his rounds.

  “Go on, open it.”

  “Hurry up.”

  “What are you waiting for?”

  “The girl’s mute all of a sudden.”

  “She’s not going to do it.”

  “She has to do it.”

  Opening the door was probably less painful than listening to them by that stage. I twisted the knob and pulled the door open slowly, like I was scared about what was going to confront me when I did.

  Oliver’s face lit up when he saw me. His intense green eyes opened wide with the surprise that I had actually opened the door. His mouth crooked into a wide grin, flashing all his teeth and making his cheeks dimple. He smoothed his black hair away from his eyes as he recovered. “Everly. I didn’t think you’d answer.”

  “Neither did I,” I made an attempt at a joke. Oliver gave a nervous laugh in response. At least someone could still laugh after everything.

  “How are you doing?” he asked.

  I didn’t know what to say, so I lied. I made the same pleasantries that the world expected of one another. “I’m fine. How are you?”

  “Worried, actually. About you, about the city, about everything, really. Everyone needs your help.”

  I moved to close the door. That was the exact reason why I had never spoken to him during his visits before. “I can’t help. Thanks for coming.”

  Quickly, he shoved his foot in the doorway so I couldn’t close it. There was no way I could hurt him. He was quicker than me, that had been my mistake. I wouldn’t do it again. Next time, I would ignore his presence and all the people inside my house.

  “Come on, Ev. You can’t stay up here forever.”

  “Why not? There’s nothing left for me in the city anymore. It’s all gone, remember? Everything has been destroyed.”

  “Not everything.”

  “Enough.” I shrugged.

  He looked down at the ground, like he didn’t know what else to say. My heart broke watching him. We used to be so close and now we couldn’t even have a full conversation. Just another reason why I didn’t open the door when he visited.

  Finally, Oliver looked back up at me. “I’m still there.”

  “And I’m here.” Once, I would never have spoken to him like that. I would have instantly wanted to take him into my arms and kiss away all those horrible thoughts. I would have tried to make everything right.

  But that was before.

  This was now.

  “Come on, Ev. Just come into the city and listen to what they have to say. It won’t hurt, I’ll be with you the entire time.” His eyes were so sincere as they silently pleaded with me. That look would have got a lot further than any words he spoke if I still had a heart.

  I was empty now.

  Bereft of emotion.

  “Please just go, Oliver. I’m not leaving.”

  “You can’t stay up here by yourself all the time. You’re not going to survive.”

  How did I even begin to explain that I wasn’t alone? It wasn’t like Oliver could see any of the forty-three people currently living in my house, talking to me non-stop, unable to leave me alone.

  He wouldn’t understand.

  Nobody would.

  I was the only one who could see them.

  Because they were all dead.

  Chapter Two

  Once the door was closed, I hurried upstairs. It was partly to get as far awa
y from Oliver as I could, but it was partly so I could watch him leave, too. I needed that extra glimpse of him because I never knew when it would be the last.

  He lingered on the doorstep for a long time, long enough for me to wonder if he really was going to leave. Just as I was about to retreat, I saw him move. His mop of black hair bobbed down the pathway in the front yard. He reached the gate and shimmied through. The gate always stuck, it was as if the house was telling people to stay out.

  Or perhaps it just needed some oil.

  I didn’t move from the window until Oliver’s familiar stride was completely out of sight. It didn’t take long to disappear from view when someone was headed down the hill. It was steep, another warning sign for people to truly think about whether it was worth climbing it or not.

  For just a moment I allowed my mind to wander into the city. It would have changed significantly since I last saw it. It had been almost a year since I stepped foot in the places I used to go every day. My school, my grocery store, my grandparents’ house, they were places I visited all the time.

  They were probably all destroyed now. If not by the Event, then by those left behind. There were no adults left now, only kids and teenagers trying to figure out a world where nothing made sense anymore.

  I didn’t know how Oliver managed to stay sane amongst it all. While I could pretend the world outside my front yard didn’t exist, he didn’t have that luxury. He walked down those broken sidewalks every day, he saw those that were suffering because of what happened. He lived it, breathed it, and he still managed to worry about me.

  I didn’t deserve his kindness.

  I should have been one of those forgotten ones, those left to fight for their own survival any way they could. There had to be millions of us in the world. I’m sure nobody else was fortunate enough to have someone worry about them.