My instinct was to get closer.
I moved with the crossbow at my shoulder height. Whatever was out there moved as well. I could see a shadow amongst the trees ahead. I began to stalk it.
Erasmus clamped his mouth shut and sniffed the wind.
When it cleared the trees, I could plainly see it, walking in a shaft of sunlight. It had a deer skull for a head with tall antlers branching out wide. Its body was emaciated and though it didn’t walk on all fours, it was slumped so far over it might as well have. It seemed to be wearing ragged clothes made of something like transparent buckskin, and a necklace of what looked like children’s skulls, bone white against its rather ruddy appearance. Every one of its bones, every rib, every joint, was evident through its translucent membrane, yet instead of lumbering, it walked gracefully on two unnaturally long, thin legs. Until it stopped. The skull seemed to sniff the air and slowly turned…toward me.
Why wasn’t I used to this by now? Why didn’t I just fire?
It looked me over and slowly approached.
“Fire, Kylie!” Erasmus hissed behind me.
But I didn’t. A dark wave of sorrow, of regret, of shame, suddenly flooded me, all blending together in a bone-deep sense of pain. And the hunger. I couldn’t escape it. I almost doubled over in agony. It was so hungry. And it was shamed by it, too.
There was no expression on a skull with its empty eye sockets, and yet it seemed to be pleading with me. It didn’t want these feelings any more than I did. It seemed to be asking me, Why?
I was overcome with the need to comfort it, to say that it would be okay. At the same time, the confusing mesh of hunger and longing emanating from it repulsed me. My skin crawled even as I was drawn toward it.
And then fear took over, because I knew what it wanted. It seemed that its hunger would only be satisfied by one thing. For human flesh. For me.
It wanted to eat me. And I was torn… I wanted what it wanted. I wanted to give in, not only to eat human flesh myself, but to let it eat me, to give myself to the creature. The utter horror of it froze me to the spot. I couldn’t lift the crossbow. I couldn’t fire, even with the faint call of Erasmus behind me.
Its skeletal hands landed on my shoulders, every joint of each finger digging in. I couldn’t stop picturing tearing the flesh off of a human arm with my teeth…and liking it. And then picturing the creature doing the same to me…and liking it just as much.
With a strength that came from god-knows-where, I cried out and flung my arms up, dislodging its hands from me. It stared at me with a grim sense of sadness, before dropping its mandible to its chest and screaming. It was the sound of a thousand regrets, of unimaginable desire.
The scream was so high-pitched and so jarring that I nearly dropped to my knees. If it weren’t for Erasmus’ strong hands holding me up, I would have folded to become that thing’s dinner. Pulling myself together, I raised the crossbow, but with another unholy scream it bounded away, disappearing into the long shadows.
I stared into the woods where it had gone, shamed by the hunger that churned in me, that couldn’t be quenched with normal food. A hunger for the forbidden.
Chapter Two
I cradled my head in my hands, sitting in my shop. Erasmus was talking but I barely heard him over the goddammed hunger.
“A wendigo. An Algonquin creature made from the ravages of famine, and from those who indulged in the eating of human flesh.”
“I know. I know. Stop talking about it.”
He stopped pacing and stood over me. “Kylie. Tell me. Do you feel a desire for—”
“Shut up!” I jumped to my feet. I absolutely could not be craving that.
“It’s not you. It’s the monster that is doing this to you. It’s not you.”
“It sure feels like me.” I grabbed him and was filled with relief that he had no fear in his eyes. “I need a spell. A magical cure. Something to dull this. I might be dangerous if I don’t get something.”
“You’re right of course. I shall get Doctor Boone.” He vanished.
I sank back into the chair. I actually felt marginally better. Maybe it was because help was on the way. Or maybe…because there was no one there to tempt me.
Because—God help me—I wanted to…to…
This was what it must be for Erasmus every day, every hour. To not want to hurt the person you cared about and at the same time crave their very flesh, not to love, but to feast upon.
How fucked up was that?
It might have been ten minutes. Maybe more. But the air displacement made me raise my head and there was Doc. He seemed a little befuddled at the transport but nonetheless delighted. He had his doctor bag, books, and other things bundled in his arms, looking as if he were about to drop it all.
“Don’t you worry, Kylie,” he said in calming tones. But all I could think about was chomping down on that thick, beard-stubbled neck of his. I closed my eyes, hoping it might help. But I could smell him—a blend of spicy aftershave, sweat, and skin. In my agitated state, the skin smell was the strongest.
“Just hurry, Doc,” I gasped out.
He took his things to the kitchen. I heard the clank of an iron cauldron, the distinct sound of herbs being chopped, liquid being poured, and then the sharp scent of some kind of oil. He came bustling in again. The fireplace whooshed and I opened my eyes to watch the flames. Doc put the cauldron over the fire, and I focused my eyes on that. Until my gaze slid toward him.
I didn’t remember standing up. I only sort of awakened when Erasmus grabbed my arms and said my name, in that smoky way of his.
“Kylie.”
“What? Oh my God.” I sat again, covering my face with my hands.
After what seemed like an interminable time of Doc muttering over the cauldron in true warlock fashion, he grabbed the cauldron from the fire with an oven mitt and set it on the hearth. With a ladle, he poured the liquid into a cup made of steer horn. His hand shook when he stretched it toward me.
“What is it?” I said softly, not looking at the skin of his hand, the sprouts of white hair, the spots and freckles.
“Well, it’s a mixture of chickweed, licorice root, green tea, and fennel…with a spell or two over it. That should keep you until you get rid of that creature.”
I noticed he stepped way back by the hearth again.
I didn’t bother smelling it. I tipped it back and drank down the whole thing. Keeping my eyes closed, I waited.
Something warred inside me. The stuff tasted awful, and at first, I thought I would be sick. But I soon realized that wasn’t it. Something was trying to overtake the potion, a back and forth of forces fighting for dominance. But Doc’s magic wouldn’t seem to let the other win.
All at once, there was sweet, blessed relief. A bit of hunger still lingered in the back of my mind, but it was nothing like it had been before. Nothing like when I wanted to jump Doc and sink my teeth into his flesh and tear and rip. The appetite for people was gone and only a vague sense of hunger remained.
“Oh, thank God!” I let the tears flow. “Thank you, Doc. It’s way better. You’re safe.”
He visibly relaxed. “Well now. That…is an interesting symptom.”
I wiped my face. The relief was amazing. I inhaled and couldn’t smell him! “It’s only because we’re getting closer to Halloween. The Booke is getting stronger. It’s pulling power from the ley lines, from Halloween itself. It’s dragging me in.” I slumped back in my chair. “We have to stop the Booke for good. And you have to help me do it. The whole coven does.”
“What can we do, Kylie? Mr. Dark here says that—”
“We can. We just have to convince Satan to destroy it.”
Doc just stared at me. Then he looked at Erasmus, who was bubbling over with anger. “Did I, uh, hear you right?”
I rubbed my forehead. Reality was sort of getting away from me. “Yeah. There really is a Satan, and he’s apparently the Netherworld’s boss.”
Doc turned to Erasmus. “Mr
. Dark…”
“I told her this would be utter folly. That it would be outrageously dangerous.”
We locked gazes. “But it’s the only way.”
“Is that true, Mr. Dark? Can he destroy the book for good?”
He clenched his teeth. “Yes. But as with all denizens of the Netherworld, there will be a price.”
“What price?” I asked.
Erasmus flung himself to his knees before me. “Kylie, this is no mere thing you ask. He will know the cost of this to you, to his own plans. He will exact the highest price.”
“My soul?”
“Yes.”
How did Erasmus do it? How did he curb his cravings for my soul? Perhaps love was stronger than fate. And I’d had a bitter taste of the same, needing a potion to stop me.
I knew at that moment, that in the future, if the Booke were allowed to go on, there would be a point where I couldn’t overcome whatever was coming for me. It was really only a matter of time. I might have lasted longer than all the other Chosen Hosts before me, but I was dancing on a razor’s edge. I couldn’t do it forever. I was so weary of fighting the Booke’s pull, of the oblivion that was to come. What was a soul compared to that?
“Okay, then.”
“What?” He grabbed me, his face only inches from mine. “Do you know what you’re saying?”
“Erasmus, I’m tired. I already figured out a long time ago that I’m not…I mean, my coven and you, and Jeff and Ed…you’ve all kept me alive so far. But it’s only a matter of time.”
“Kylie.” His strange choking voice stabbed me right in the heart. He pulled me in, embraced me tight, almost too tight, as if protecting me from an inevitability.
“Don’t you see? It was never going to end well. Even though you decided not to take my soul, it was still forfeit all along.”
“No,” he whispered. His breathing was harsh in my ear and his coat began to smolder.
“It has to stop, Erasmus. No one else should go through this. It has to stop.”
He held me for a long time, and I welcomed it. I closed my eyes and felt his arms, his warmth, smelled his smoky scent. Listened as the leather of his coat squeaked and strained.
Finally, he pulled back and looked at me, hands on my face, thumbs caressing my cheeks. “I can’t let you.”
“You have to.” But it then washed over me. I didn’t care what happened to me, but the end of the Booke meant the end of him too.
I drew back, eyes roving over those familiar features. “I forgot.”
“It’s not for me that I worry.”
“Erasmus…what are we going to do?”
“Now,” said Doc thoughtfully, “we might be able to find a way around all that, young lady.”
I raised my head wearily, perhaps out of habit. “Why do you say that?”
“Because we have our coven, darn it. And so far, there hasn’t been anything we can’t do. I’m counting on that. Let’s get them together and find a solution, like we always do.”
I agreed, of course. But in the back of my mind, I didn’t hold much hope.
Chapter Three
When Doc left that evening, he seemed cheered. He had a few ideas to bring to the coven tomorrow. Protection spells against Satan. Enchantments to keep me strong. I had a feeling that nothing we tried would work, but I figured let’s go through the motions anyway.
Erasmus returned after dropping off Doc. Now that things were decided, I was strangely calm. I suppose it was the suspense that was killing me.
“May I…stay tonight?” Erasmus seemed hesitant. Maybe he thought I wanted to be alone. But I turned a smile on him instead.
“I’d like that.”
“Oh. Then…I’ve been wondering something.” He walked slowly around the perimeter of the room. He was used to doing that. He liked staying in the shadows. But I could tell he was thinking deeply about something. “If…if I were a mortal, we would simply be a man and a woman.”
“Yes?”
“And as I understand it, a man and woman…court. Or as you would quaintly put it…date.”
It was my turn to look a little dumbfounded. “Uh…You want to go on a date? With the world crumbling around us in a cannibalistic mess?”
“It might be our last chance.”
That sobered me. Yes, he was right. It might very well be the last time I could.
“When I interrupted you and your constable,” he went on, “you were dining.”
Demon logic. What did they care if the world was ending? “Okay. Yeah. But you don’t eat.”
“And yet I can drink.”
Eat, drink, and be merry for tomorrow we— “You know what? Sure. Why not? I mean, I can’t sit around, right?” I looked at my watch. “I think we have just enough time to catch the last seating at the café. Let me just slip upstairs and change.”
He had the look of a man who got what he wanted but suddenly didn’t know what to do with it. I got up the stairs and threw open my wardrobe. A dress? It was a date, so why not? Something not too elegant. And a little jewelry to set off my…amulet.
I stared at it in the mirror. It wasn’t exactly romantic, that demon face with its tongue sticking out, and those red jeweled eyes. My hand went to it. Warm, as always. Maybe it had essence of Erasmus in it. After all, a demon’s amulet was a part of them. When I snatched it off his neck three weeks ago—God, it seemed like longer—he was sort of put in my power. I could summon him, and it would protect me from him. But now it was more than that. It was part of him in a fundamental way.
Shabiri’s amulet must be the same, the one Doug wore with the green jewels to match her eyes and that streak of green she wore in her long, dark hair. She was a different sort of demon than Erasmus. She wasn’t attached to anything, far as I could tell. Except her amulet.
The amulet wasn’t what I would call pretty. It was ugly, in fact. But now that Erasmus and I were…involved…I kind of…liked it.
Should I put my hair up? I experimented, lifting my brown, shoulder-length hair up behind my head. No. I didn’t have it in me to go to that much trouble.
I added some dangly silver earrings, then remembered at the last minute that demons shied away from silver and exchanged them for gold earrings, and trotted downstairs.
He looked me over. “You’re displaying your legs.”
“It’s a dress. Don’t you like it?” I gave a little twirl.
“I have not seen you wear this sort of thing…except when you were with your constable.”
“It’s for special occasions.”
He merely raised a brow, but I could tell he was pleased.
I drove him to the Moody Bog café, still checking the skies for flying Baphomets. We both hurried inside. I was still hungry, but at least it wasn’t for human flesh. I’d have a little bite while Erasmus…wouldn’t.
We were seated by the window, and once Erasmus sat, he looked around. “Are all these mortals similarly occupied?”
“You mean on dates? Maybe.” I scanned the room. Older couples who were probably married, groups of friends my age, one or two who might be on a date.
“What is the purpose of dating?”
I looked up from my menu and moved my water glass closer. “Well, it’s a ritualized way for contemporary couples to get to know each other.”
“And then have sex?”
I nearly spit out my water. I coughed, clearing my throat and finally setting my water glass down. “Uh, sure, in some instances. But I think the majority are in it for developing a longer relationship, leading to marriage maybe, which is a legal bonding of two people.”
“Why?”
“Because human beings are social animals and we like to pair up, live life together, have children.”
“Ah. Procreation. But a marriage bond does not seem biologically necessary to this.”
I scooted in closer and leaned toward him so that others couldn’t hear. “It’s a cultural thing, an agreement to support each other, both emotionally
and financially. It’s expensive having children.”
“So when you were dating your constable, was that your intention?”
I took another sip of water, then toyed with the glass. “I don’t know. I was only just getting to know him.”
“When I interfered.” His eyes were blazing coals. He was proud of that. It pissed me off for a second, before I saw his side of it.
“If I had been set on him, you couldn’t have interfered.”
That took the glow from his gaze. He sat back, somewhat diminished.
“Besides, I wasn’t looking to settle down yet. I had just gotten over a bad relationship—Jeff, remember? And I’d just started this new business, new everything.” Which might well be over before it’d begun, if I couldn’t get out of this somehow. But instead of wallowing, I looked up at him and smiled. “So what does it tell you that I’m here with you instead of him?”
He thought about it, brows dug deep into his eyes. I saw the moment the light bulb went off and he offered a tentative smile. “You chose me?”
“Yeah, you big idiot.”
His smile faded. “But…why? Why would you choose a demon over another human?”
“Who knows? Just crazy I guess. Let’s order. I’m hungry.”
I got us a bottle of wine, and I asked for the lobster roll. And then we were left to stare at each other. I eyed that duster jacket that he absolutely refused to take off (unless we were in bed). Leaning an elbow on the table, I rested my chin in my hand, and smiled. “Tell me about this get-up.”
“Get-up?”
“This outfit. That jacket you’re rocking. Surely you weren’t dressed like this in Babylonian times.”
He looked down at himself and fingered his lapels. “These clothes are only a reflection of the era. In Babylon, I wore a tunic like everyone else.”
“So wait. Are you saying your clothes are like…mood clothes? They pop up with the times? Are they an extension of you? Literally?”
“Yes. I merely think them and they take form around me. I take it the same is not true of mortals.”
The Darkest Gateway Page 2