[Anthology] The Paranormal 13- now With a Bonus 14th Novel!

by Dima Zales

  “Was I asleep?” My voice came out in a dull croak.

  Salem shook his head. “No. You nearly drowned. Do you remember what happened?”

  “I had a bizarre dream...” I began to say, but from the look on his face, I knew something was off. “It wasn't a dream, was it?”

  “No...”

  “This can't be real.” I went to sit up but my head felt woozy. “Vampires were one thing, being the daughter of a vampire hunter was a whole other—but turning into a raven?! This is impossible!” I shrieked. My throat burned fiercely. I curled up in a ball and covered my head with the blankets as I began coughing.

  “Alex, calm down, please.” Salem pulled the cover from over my head. “I mentioned to you before that it was possible...not likely, but possible...for Waldron's to become ravens. I at no time before imagined I would see it, and I especially never thought you would be capable...”

  “You said you thought it was a myth,” I said, rubbing my throat.

  “Legend says that only the strongest, most dangerous hunters have the ability. I admit I didn’t believe any of it when Raziel first told me.” He didn't look at me as he spoke. “According to him only three Waldron’s had ever had the gift. You make the fourth, I suppose.”

  “Gift...” I mused insincerely. “Salem, are you afraid of me—of what I am?”

  “No, just a little worried about what you could be capable of if Paul ever corrupted you into following his ways.” He glowered.

  “I have no interest in hunting, Salem!” I was hurt that he could even think I would ever harm him.

  “I know, Alex,” he replied, finally looking at me again. “But imagining the possibilities makes me somewhat curious.”

  “Curious about what?” I asked sharply, knowing where this was going.

  “What you could be capable of.” He turned to look away again, but I placed my hand against his cheek and held his head still. “What if you could make the world a better place...by accepting what you are, and defeating the evil of my kind? The ones like Mark.”

  “You said before that it would be too dangerous.” I could not believe the words coming from his mouth!

  “Perhaps you could train yourself to be careful about it. Imagine if we never had to worry about creatures like him attacking innocent people, because you were there to protect them.”

  “You’re a creature like Mark!” I reminded him bitterly.

  “I am nothing like him!” he growled.

  “I didn't mean it like that, Salem.” I brushed my hand comfortingly across his cold cheek. “But how would I know who was the enemy and who was like you?”

  He thought for a second, taking my hand from his face and lacing his fingers between mine. “You would never be alerted of their whereabouts because they would never attack anyone.”

  “How does Paul even know about you then? Have you hurt someone here, Salem?”

  “No. Let's just say we met before, in a rather uncomfortable situation.” He grimaced at the memory.

  “What situation?” I started to grow more and more worried that Paul had been right. What if Salem had once fed on humans? What if he ever started again?

  “It was somewhat similar to the incident on the way to the creek,” he muttered. I sadly recalled the white rabbit. “I was hunting late one night in a deserted park. Little did I know, this happened to be the park beside a trailer community where a vampire hunter lived. Paul was driving to the trailer when he noticed me. He knew the park was closed to civilians that late at night and stopped his car to watch me. He knew immediately what I was when he saw my eyes.” He frowned. “There had been a squirrel – I cannot imagine how that makes me sound…a vampire feasting on the blood of squirrels!”

  “I would rather you drank the blood of kittens than humans.”

  “As would I.” He smiled now. “It would seem he always had a weapon on him, just in case. He came creeping into the park, crossbow wielded and pointing directly at me. I discarded the rodent and speedily dashed behind a tree before he had a chance to shoot. I hastily told him I meant no harm, and that I wasn't like the others. He wouldn't believe me, despite the evidence lying before him. Stupidly, I even told him my name, hoping that perhaps he had heard of me in a good sense.”

  “At least you got away. I think he is angrier about that fact more than he is of us even being together.”

  “I sincerely doubt that.” He laughed. “I think that is enough for tonight, Alexis. You’re still weak from what happened. Shower, change into something warm, and then let me put you to bed.”

  I woke up nestled beneath the black silk blankets of Salem's bed. To my dismay, he wasn't beside me. I stretched across the wide bed and caressed the smooth fabric with the palm of my hand. The shimmering black material felt amazing, but it sickened me all the same. It reminded me of a raven's feathers. The bedroom door creaked open slowly.

  “Good morning, little raven,” Salem said. His pet name made me squeamish when it used to make me happy. I hadn't noticed right away, but he carried a tray in his hands. I rolled my eyes, although I did appreciate the sentiment.

  “And what am I having today?” I asked inquisitively as I tried, and failed, to see what lay on the tray.

  I sat up, and Salem laid the tray across my lap. My mouth watered at the plate of chocolate-chip pancakes drowning in syrup, with a light dollop of whipped cream in the center. “Enjoy,” he said with a pleasant smile and gently laid across the bed beside me.

  I savored each sweet bite. “That was amazing,” I said as I laid my fork down and placed the tray across the top of the nightstand. My stomach didn't appreciate the meal as much as my mouth did. That feeling was lost immediately by the feeling of Salem's delicate lips against my own. I felt his tongue trace the shape of my lips, and I jumped, pulling away.

  “What was that about?” I asked quietly.

  “You had some syrup on your lips.” He grinned playfully at first but then frowned. “I…I am sorry. I know I should not have done that, it was far too forward and early for such actions…”

  I laughed and wrapped my arms around him in a tight hug. Three simple, yet powerful words fought to escape my mouth. My eyes widened at my own thoughts, and I jerked back again.

  The frown on his face had returned, but before he could speak I answered his yet unspoken question. “No, it's not that. I just feel kind of sick to my stomach.” It wasn't completely untrue, and it wasn’t entirely from the large breakfast either.

  “Oh,” he said and pulled me slowly against his chest. “I'm sorry if my food made you ill.”

  “It's okay.”

  “I was thinking,” he said as he ran his hand down my back in a relaxing caress. “You should see Paul again.”

  I gritted my teeth. “I'm not talking to him.”

  “He can train you how to hunt, Alex...if you wanted to.”

  My mind wasn't made up yet. It was tempting; I would admit that. But, me? A vampire hunter? It was difficult—no, impossible—to imagine. “I don't know if I want to or not.”

  “Paul would be pleased,” he replied, speaking carefully. “You could even get on his good side again. Convince him that I upset you and you aren't seeing me anymore, he would like that. You need him, if you want to do this.”

  “Aren't you worried I'll get hurt?” I frowned, thinking of the possibilities. If I reacted the way I had when we encountered Mark again, I was definitely in trouble. I had never been in a real fight in my life, and just holding that weapon made me nervous.

  “Of course I am,” his voice was soft and low, “more than you can ever know.”

  “Then why do you want me to do this so badly?”

  “I told you already, Alex. Think of all the innocent people you could save. People like-”

  “I'll think about it,” I mumbled, cutting him off before he could mention Janet’s name. I didn’t want to lose it again.

  “Your body seems prepared for you to make the decision.”

  I shivered.
“I don't like thinking about it. How do I even control it?”

  “That is something you will have to talk to Paul about, too.”

  “Fine.” I sighed heavily. “I will talk to Paul…but I am still not happy with him.”

  Salem gave me a satisfied smile and kissed me gently. “Everything will be fine. Trust me.”

  And I did.

  17

  After much convincing, I agreed to attend Janet's funeral. Salem offered to escort me to the event and hide out in my car until it was finished. I was anxious, distraught, and a whole mix of other emotions that I couldn't even think straight. I was hesitant to leave Salem when we drove up to the church, but he insisted I would feel better after some closure.

  I wore a simple black dress and the only heels I had-which were white and clashed with the dress, but I didn't care. Who was going to notice my shoes anyway? I spotted Paul sitting in the back row of pews and pretended not to recognize him. Jason and Karen were there, too, sitting in the middle row with a few other friends of mine that had been acquainted with my mom. Karen looked like she was about to spring up from her seat when she saw me, but Jason held her down. I waved at them with a frown before scouring the funeral home for other familiar faces. I saw a few relatives that I had not seen in years, that I suppose technically were not my relatives at all. What shocked me the most was finding Desmond and Melissa sitting in the front row.

  I stopped in my tracks, gazing at the tan-skinned man I had not seen in twelve years, but there was no mistaking who he was. His hair was curled and nestled against the back of his neck in a short ponytail. I scowled at his girlfriend; she didn't deserve to be here. It seemed disrespectful to bring her to the funeral of the man's ex-wife. She was perhaps in her late-twenties and had long, wavy, blonde hair that curled in fantastic loops at the ends. It took me a moment to realize Desmond was calling me over to him, and despite not wanting to, I went to him.

  He draped his arms around me, which felt awkward. The last time I saw him he was much less affectionate. I felt a pang of guilt as I thought through the hateful, painful memories I had of him leaving Janet. Being a kid at the time, I could only think that he didn't love me, didn't love her, and ever since that day I couldn't find it in myself to love him anymore. Yet, had I been mistaken? He appeared so happy, so healthy, with her. Was I wrong to have hated her, too? Though if he had not left mom…Janet…then there wouldn’t even be a funeral, because there never would have been Mark. I shook the thoughts from my mind as I barely returned the gesture.

  “How are you faring, Alex?” Desmond asked sincerely.

  I shrugged my shoulders as he released me from his arms. “I’ve been better.”

  “Understandable,” he said with a frown. “You look well.”

  “Thanks...so do you.” It was hard to talk to him. I didn't feel like I even knew him anymore.

  “Melissa and I would like to take you out to eat after this, if you would be interested,” he offered casually, returning to the pew beside his girlfriend.

  I sat a few inches away from them, eying them skeptically. “I'm not sure...maybe,” I said quietly, thinking that food and conversation were among the last things I’d want after this. “I'll let you know when it’s over.”

  The room had fallen silent as a man approached the podium before us. I had intended to listen to his words, but my mind had completely numbed as it occurred to me how real this was. The woman who had raised me, that I had known as my mother for my whole life until recently, was gone–completely–and nothing I could do or say could change that fact. The man’s gentle voice faded from my ears, and I began to feel like I was watching a muted TV show, barely able to comprehend what I was seeing. Desmond tapped me on the shoulder after what had felt like mere seconds.

  “Alex, dear?” He sounded concerned.

  “What?” I blinked. The man was no longer up there. Everyone was lining up beside the open casket at the front of the room. I swallowed the bile that was rising in my throat. I wasn't ready for this.

  “You don't look well,” he commented. “You don't have to go up there, you know.”

  “I-I know...” I muttered. “I don't think I can. I'm going to go get some air.”

  “Okay.” He frowned, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. “This isn't easy for me, either. I hope you know that.”

  “I know,” I said, turning to leave. “I'll take you up on that offer, by the way.”

  His expression softened into a smile. “Great. Mel and I will meet you outside in a few.”

  “Okay. My car is the silver Alero; you should be able to find it,” I paused, then said, “Tell mom...tell her I love her.” I started to sob uncontrollably and ran outside. I struggled to find my car through the blurring of the water in my eyes. Fumbling with the handle proved useless as I attempted to get the key in the hole, but it didn't matter anymore. Salem was at my side immediately, holding me tight against his cold chest. I didn't hold back; I let the tears fall relentlessly.

  His hand soothingly caressed my back, and I realized how right he was. This wasn't something I should have passed up. I may not have been able to bear seeing her, lying still and lifeless in her coffin, but I would have forever regretted not being present at the funeral at all. She may not have given birth to me, but as far as I was concerned Janet Hobbs was my mother. Salem tried to pull away from me, and I attempted to stop him, but it was useless. My strength was nothing compared to his.

  “Someone is coming,” he whispered and disappeared from sight.

  I looked up through the haze and saw Desmond approaching; Melissa linked onto his arm. I groaned. Maybe agreeing to go out with them wasn't the brightest idea.

  “I am sorry for your loss, Alex,” Melissa said quietly, pulling me into her arms. “Truly.” This was far more awkward than the hug I shared with Desmond.

  “Thanks...” I said, grateful that the hug didn't last long.

  “Your friends–Jason and Karen–said they were sorry, too, and that they would stop by to see you later,” Desmond said. Did I notice a hint of tears behind his glossy brown eyes? “I told them I would pass that along to you.”

  I nodded slowly. “Thanks,” I repeated.

  “Speaking of friends,” Melissa said with a sly grin. “Who was that handsome young man comforting you just a minute ago?”

  My eyes widened. She'd seen Salem. How lovely. “He's a friend,” I lied. He was more than that now. In fact, despite my reservations and the little time I had known him, I was beginning to believe his soul-mate notion.

  “It's too bad he ran off; we would have taken him along with us,” Desmond said with a gentle smile.

  “That's okay...he'll-” My voice was broken off when I saw Salem appear from nowhere. I eyed him frantically.

  “I would be happy to join you,” he said, walking to my side. “I'm sorry I disappeared so suddenly, I was saying my farewells to Mrs. Hobbs.”

  Desmond stared at him curiously, and then smiled. “Great.”

  We agreed to take separate vehicles and meet up at the restaurant. It was an Italian place, which made me sicker than I anticipated. I remembered vaguely the man on the plane to Denver reminiscing about some Italian restaurant he had been to–it reminded me too much of what I had seen and endured in Denver, which had led to all of this.

  We reached the restaurant shortly after Desmond and Melissa pulled into the parking lot. Salem grasped my hand tightly in his as we entered the building. The smell of fresh cooked bread was almost overwhelming. My stomach reacted immediately, growling ferociously as we followed my ‘father’ and his girlfriend. Our waiter led us to a table in the center of a full room. Fortunately, I didn't feel over-dressed as I scanned the surrounding tables. Women were clad in dresses, men in button-up shirts and some even tuxes. I had forgotten that Desmond could now afford to dine at these fancier places, unlike when I was growing up.

  I scooted into my chair, Salem sitting in the one adjacent to mine. Desmond and Melissa sat on the op
posite side of the table. My throat felt like it was going to swell when I noticed the shining rock on her finger. She appeared to notice my gaze and grinned.

  “Don't you worry, Alex,” she replied in a gentle tone. “Des and I aren't to that stage just yet.”

  I exhaled and smiled. “That's good to know. Well, it isn't...that's not what I meant,” I rambled and Salem gripped my hand underneath the table. The cold of his touch was somehow soothing.

  “So, are you going to introduce us?” Desmond's eyes swept across the two of us.

  “This is Salem,” I said quietly. “I met him in music class.”

  “That's lovely,” Melissa smiled. “Are you two, y'know...together?”

  “Something like that,” Salem replied with a smile as he peered at me from the corner of his eye.

  Our waiter took our drink orders—Salem requested a glass of ice water, which I knew he would either seldom drink or not touch at all. I got a soda; Melissa followed Salem's order, and Desmond requested the finest wine they had.

  “You aren't originally from around here, are you, Salem?” my adoptive father asked, obviously hearing the accent in his voice.

  “I was born in Wales, actually,” he replied with a polite smile.

  “Speaking of places outside the country, where have you been off to?” I asked, eying Desmond.

  He frowned somewhat, possibly hoping I hadn't noticed. “We flew in from Egypt when we heard the news,” he said casually, flipping through the extravagant menu.

  “Egypt is a very interesting place,” Salem said, and I glanced at him fiercely. He gripped my hand tightly—reassuringly. “My parents and I took a vacation there a few years back,” he added, and I relaxed. “It’s much closer to Europe than it is to America though,” he added, laughing slightly.

  “Are they travelers, too?” Desmond asked.

  “Were,” Salem corrected forlornly.

  “What shall we be having this evening, ladies and gentlemen?” the waiter asked, interrupting our conversation and setting our beverages down. I took a chance to look up at him; he had tanned skin and a curved mustache above his thin lips.