Beloved Evangeline (A Dark Paranormal Urban Fantasy Trilogy for Grown-ups - Book 1)

by W. C. Anderson

  The ghoulish shrieks advised it was not a rock.

  I held it in front of me, warning the fiends to stay back. Shouts rang out from somewhere behind them, and as they turned, I crushed the talisman against a tree—with the heel of my boot after my hand bruised and failed at the task. The accompanying wails and shrieks pierced the sultry night air, the wicked forms dissipating into dark vapor. Wesley charged through the lingering mist, swiping and snarling, before realizing a fight was needless.

  “Are still with me kid? Did they hurt you—whammy you?” He pushed my shoulder slightly, a test of sentience.

  Still breathing hard, I shook my head.

  “Look, their kind, like mine, steal their immortality from the vitality of the living—by flesh and bone rather than blood. Sure they didn’t hurt you?”

  “I’m not hurt.” Though I truly wasn’t, my voice came out thin and shaky.

  In between breaths I asked, “My friends?”

  “At the hospital—safe.”

  “Thank you.” Nodding my head, I began walking away from him, trudging my way back to the tree.

  “What are you doing? You need to leave.”

  “I can’t—not until this is through, otherwise... this will never be over for me. This is my shot, my one shot, to set things right.”

  Wesley the vampire grabbed my arm below the shoulder.

  “This doesn’t end here tonight, you know that right?” There was a look in his eyes now that I simply could not understand. It didn’t appear to be pity or sadness. His eyes conveyed no trace of human emotion.

  Because he’s dead, a soulless vampire who couldn’t care less.

  I tried to yank my arm loose. He held fast.

  “Something else will always be waiting, just around the corner, no matter what happens here tonight,” he squeezed my arm, “What are you going to do then?”

  This thought had been at the back of my mind all evening, but I hadn’t seen the point in dwelling on it. Apparently the Vampire did.

  “I’m open for suggestions.”

  His expression reflected his lack of amusement.

  “Look, my future has never exactly been bright.” I admitted in a quiet voice. “Whatever it takes—that’s what I’ll do to see this thing through.”

  “And what if it just doesn’t work? Have you thought of that?”

  “What do you care—why are you even helping me?” His previous explanation had been weak and we both knew it. My mother had known him and seemed to… wish he were dead.

  “I was already here when I saw you with those others. I recognized you.” His eyes did not meet mine. “From when you were a child.”

  The coincidence of seeing him in this place two out of only a handful of times I’d ever been here, suddenly seemed no coincidence at all. “Is this where you live?”

  “Ah, no. It’s more of a sanctuary for those... like me.”

  “For vampires?”

  “No, not vampires, specifically. This place can be found only by those who are touched by the supernatural.” He finally looked at me. “How exactly did you get here tonight?”

  “I sort of fell into the ravine.”

  “That’s not possible. I thought you came here with that Fernwood you blathered about. I thought he permitted you entrance.” He stated these as facts rather than questions.

  “Well, I was actually running away from him when I fell, or I was trying to.” I stared back at him, “You’re changing the subject... why were you here tonight? Why are you helping me?”

  “I’m here because this is a terrific place to lay in wait for unsuspecting humans. I can see them, but they can’t see me.” He grinned. “But that doesn’t explain how you’re here...”

  I thought again about his question. If this is a place for the supernatural, what did that mean for me? Was the reason I could never find it all those years ago was because I’d never died before?

  “I think it’s possibly because I.... died a few weeks ago?” I wondered aloud.

  He inhaled deeply. “You don’t smell dead to me.”

  “Clearly, I’m not now. I came back.”

  “You saw something, didn’t you?” He demanded impatiently.

  That was just more than I cared to discuss with a strange vampire in the middle of an enchanted forest. Plus, I didn’t like his tone so I offered no response.

  “I guess that would explain why you were able to find this place, and why you’re not dead already tonight....” the vampire mumbled distractedly, talking mostly to himself.

  Our time for conversation was cut short, however, as Jonathan could be heard shouting and marching his way toward us. Wesley eyed me nervously.

  31.

  “Augustine!” Jonathan shouted.

  And, just like that, the giant form of a man appeared a few feet from where we stood. Had he been standing there all this time, just concealing himself from sight? The air grew tense around him.

  Augustine approached slowly. I still had no idea what to do. My body was exhausted. My arms and legs ached in strange places I was only just beginning to feel. All I really wanted to do right now was to curl up and go to sleep. And never wake up again. Looking into Augustine’s eyes seemed to worsen those feelings—the chills they inspired were straight out of my nightmares.

  “Wait,” I said in a tone that I hoped conveyed graveness, “The vampire,” I scratched my eyebrow, stifling an impulse to laugh at how ridiculous that sounded, “is not part of this. Please let him go.”

  Jonathan sniggered. “I’m up for anything that will cause you to endure more pain, Evangeline. So, no. I don’t think I’ll be letting him go.”

  Augustine turned to Jonathan contrarily. “This is already over. She sent back all of the others you called, and now this parasite stands with her.” He shook his head. “Vampires never side with humans. Something is not right. One human girl should not have been able to do all of this.” Augustine looked at the ground in defiance. “She belongs here somehow.”

  My heart stopped beating.

  “A powerful evil has touched this girl. It’s growing inside her. I’m not going to be the one who gets in its way.”

  Jonathan didn’t answer.

  Augustine shook his head before turning his terrible eyes toward me. “I’m sorry for what’s been done to you. I want you to know I had no part in it before this night. If I see you again, please remember.”

  I could only stare at him with furrowed brow. I didn’t want to listen to this anymore.

  Augustine made a strange bow toward me before straightening himself up to full height and advancing on Jonathan. “If you still want her dead, do it yourself.... if you can. I am no longer bound to you. I leave you with her, each to his own fate.”

  He nodded once and disappeared into the forest.

  I tried to choke back the anger and a despair brewing inside of me, but my throat only closed around it.

  Wesley put his hand on my shoulder, perhaps sensing my despair, but neither he nor I could find any words to say.

  Nothing seemed real anymore. Despite this new entrancement, when Jonathan flew at me in a rage I deflected him easily with a swift movement of my fist. But the moment he touched my skin, a pain surged through me—an electrocution. Instead of electricity coursing through me, I was shocked by pain as images of his evil deeds flashed rapidly through my mind. Torturing animals as a child. Torturing, molesting... murdering countless women. I closed my eyes tightly to try and make it stop, but the effort was wasted. The agony was unbearable.

  Jonathan was laughing when I opened my eyes. I caught just a brief flash of my new vampire friend advancing on him.

  “Hey, could you make me a vampire? That would be perfect,” Jonathan antagonized.

  “Oh, no. Not the least bit tempting. But I will make this last for as long as I possibly can. The longest I took to drain a person of blood was just over two months. Just kept draining them to the point of near death, over and over and over again. It’s quite nice... g
etting used to the taste of one human’s blood. I begin to crave it. I think, with you, I’ll try and set a new record.”

  I tried to shake off the residue the images had left on me; it was no use. My mind was permanently scarred.

  “We need to take him to the police,” I finally managed to say, my eyes closing as if to conserve my strength.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Wesley replied, “This freak needs to bite some dust and you know it. We can’t let him do this to anyone else.”

  My eyes shot open. There was something about his voice just then. Something familiar. I was unable to find any trace of familiarity in his features, however, and his eyebrows were now raised at me impatiently.

  An invisible line had been drawn—I could feel it. Doing the right thing in life typically involves more hassle, and isn’t that the point of it, a test of character? Though, I must admit, I’ve always hated this moment in the movies, when some goody two-shoes says anything about taking the villain to the authorities. Just cut his head off… or shoot him 12 more times, I’d always thought. Make sure he’s really dead. But real life is different. The damage that can be inflicted on one’s soul is not limitless. I don’t know how much more damage my own can afford.

  “Think of the families of those girls who will never get closure if he just disappears. They’ll never know what happened,” I argued.

  “And how are they going to get closure if we take him to the authorities? Do you think he’s just going to confess?”

  Jonathan shook his head defiantly.

  Wesley gave Jonathan’s neck a rigorous shake, and Jonathan cowed.

  “My point is, where is your evidence?” The vampire spoke very formally. Whatever he’d let slip in his voice earlier was now gone.

  “I saw some things... I could help...”

  “What are you going to tell them? You psychically saw what he’d done? ” His tone was unbelievably cruel.

  I had no answer.

  “Unless he’s left some DNA behind, which I’m guessing he didn’t, there’s not going to be anything to point a finger at him. And, even if he did happen to leave some trace DNA evidence, his DNA would have to already be on record... you’ve never even been arrested, have you Jonathan?”

  Jonathan shook his head somewhat less enthusiastically.

  Wesley looked at Jonathan in disgust. “That’s what I thought. So it would be a long, long time before the police catch up to him, if at all. He would only kill more people in the meantime. You know it would be a big, big mistake to let him go. Besides, I only have a few hours left until sunrise. After that you’re on your own.”

  “I admit—I don’t have the details worked out just yet, but...” I began angrily, while at the same time, furiously trying to concoct some sort of plausible scenario which would lead the police to Jonathan. Before I had reached any, a strange struggle ensued between Jonathan and Wesley.

  Wesley threw up his hands and sort of flew back from Jonathan. Jonathan was off and running. Wesley was crumpled on the ground.

  Confusion clouded my mind. I wouldn’t have believed it possible for Jonathan to overtake the vampire.

  I rushed over to Wesley, who was still crouching. “What happened?” I asked.

  “Cross,” he whispered in a pained voice, holding out his hand. I didn’t understand at first and tried to accept his hand to help him off the ground. But he stayed firmly in place, turning his palm up, instead of down. On his palm, clearly visible in the moonlight, was the shape of a cross that had long ago been emblazoned upon it.

  So he was afraid of a cross and would therefore be no help. He remained on the ground in a cowering position. I shook my head. The undead had proven just as defective as the rest of us.

  I sprinted in the direction Jonathan had just gone. After just a few yards, however, I realized I couldn’t just go stomping around through the woods. I have no gift for tracking, so I stood for a moment to listen. I heard nothing. There was a cluster of trees just ahead and something about it caught my attention.

  Searching in my haste to catch him before he could escape, I was caught off guard by a blow to the back of the head.

  I felt myself falling to the ground, but was strangely disconnected from reality. I struggled to maintain consciousness, before receiving a jolt of shock and pain. The images, cruel and horrifying, resumed. Fortunately or unfortunately, the shock of it kept me from losing consciousness.

  I had failed to let the vampire kill him, so it was up to me to hold on to reality—I would have no one but myself to blame if Jonathan got away. I tried to pull myself off the ground, but I could see nothing but the sickening images that continued to flash before me, each more painful than the last. The earth hastened back to greet me.

  I tuned out Jonathan’s rambling completely, listening only to the sounds of my own ragged breathing. Without understanding why, I ran my hand through the leaves on the ground, rustling them in a calming effort, feeling more at peace with every passing moment. Why such an ordinary, commonplace activity held my concentration so firmly I couldn’t say. The texture of the leaves, the coolness of the mud—it was as though these miraculous creations were all that was left of the world. As my hand rustled through the fallen leaves, something pricked my finger, and I pulled my hand back sharply. Blood pooled on my fingertip.

  I brushed back the leaves, carefully this time, and found a single offshoot of a vine—everything surrounding it was a blur. Tracing the vine back to its origin with my eyes, my heart stopped as the solitary shoot led to a larger cluster with a single flower on it. My body sprang to life, stumbling toward the sight of this miracle: a single wild rose.

  Given the current state of my vision, and that the world around was a blur, the rose could’ve been orange or pink or even black, but I felt—knew—with every fiber of my soul that this rose was a perfect crimson. I have always found strength and comfort in nature. I have a connection with the natural world that I’ve been unable to duplicate with humans. The beauty of that rose was in itself a form of magic. Roses are not necessary for life—they are a miracle of it and the single best hope of goodness—divinity—in this world. Much indeed may be deduced from roses.

  I inhaled the fragrant wild rose deeply.

  How could I have allowed myself to become so lost? Jack and my mother were certainly in a better place now, and I must never forget that. And I had gotten to see her—real or imagined—once last time. I must also accept that whatever has happened in my life, I did the best I knew how. I never meant for any of this; therefore, there was no blight on my soul, and there never was one. I lifted my gaze toward the heavens, offering a silent, heartfelt offering for the ones I’d lost and loved.

  Forgive me, I whispered. Suddenly the wind kicked up and fallen leaves whirled all around.

  A dull thudding on my side pulled me back to the present. My body seemed to be numb. Jonathan must’ve thought I was momentarily delirious; he kicked my side me with an expression of masochistic delight.

  “How do you like feeling what they felt? “

  Another kick. I tasted blood.

  “Poor, Evangeline, if only you’d just let go a little earlier. Trust me it’s better this way—without me there’d be no one left to control what I’ve unleashed. As bad as you think I am, I’m a pussycat compared to what’s waiting. Getting rid of you is really best for the greater good. Plus, I need this; your blood—those eyes—they will be my finest trophies. As soon as you’re willing to give in, this can all end. Forever.”

  What was he going on about? I heard the words but couldn’t seem to process them.

  After the brief moment of respite, however, Jonathan seemed to refocus his manic rage.

  He leaned over me, a knife in one hand and howling with psychotic fervor. I found I could see him, not clearly, but well enough for my purposes. He thought I was stunned or nearly dead or driven insane with despair, and—maybe I was. But that’s never stopped me before. I groped around the surrounding earth, collectin
g a fistful of twigs and leaves and crammed them down his cackling throat.

  Taking advantage of his gagging and coughing, his legs were swept out from under him by my own. I followed the outline of his falling body, straddling over him as he continued to choke. I punched him robotically, with no more feeling than when I set in to complete extraordinary tedious research. The only thought in my mind was that this all felt completely natural—there was a swiftness and grace to my movements.