Available Darkness Box Set | Books 1-3

by Platt, Sean

  “It’s okay,” Larry said. “She’ll be alright. Some nights are better than others. But this is why I can’t leave her alone. I know I should’ve told you something before you took the job, but the Radleys said you were so good, and I saw how you were with their kid, and I didn’t want to scare you off.”

  Katya nodded, wiping the falling tears from her eyes.

  Larry felt like an asshole for lying, but it wasn’t like he was more than a mile from the truth. Abigail had been raped by a monster and kept in a closet for years. She had no family. In reality, her situation was worse than the picture he painted, but Larry figured there was enough truth in the brush of his lie, that good intent would outweigh his crooked karma.

  Larry met Katya’s eyes and said, “Thanks for being there for Abi tonight. I’m sure it means the world to her. Right now, she’s probably just embarrassed.”

  “It’s okay,” Katya said. “Wow, I just feel so bad.”

  Larry hemmed and hawed, trying to find the best way to ask his next question. “Did we scare you away?”

  Katya shook her head, sniffling, “Oh, God no, now I want to help her more than before. I feel so awful.”

  “Thanks again,” Larry said, putting an awkward hand to her lower shoulder. “I better get back inside.”

  “Okay,” Katya said, opening her car door. “Tell Abigail I said goodnight.”

  “Will do. ‘Night, Katya.”

  “Goodnight,” she said as she climbed into her car and started the engine.

  As Katya drove off, Larry returned to the house, eager to find out what really happened at the restaurant.

  Larry knocked on her door. “Abi?”

  After a long moment, she said, “Come in.”

  He opened the door to her pink and purple bedroom. She was laying in bed, in a T-shirt and sweats, a pillow over her face, probably crying.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I don’t know,” Abi said, her voice muffled beneath the pillow.

  “Katya is worried about you.”

  “Yeah, I kinda freaked out on her.”

  “She told me.”

  “And? Is she going to quit watching me?”

  “No. She’ll be back tomorrow. She said you can’t get rid of her that easily.”

  “Really?” Abigail pulled the pillow away from her face. Larry was relieved to see her eyes hinting at a smile.

  “Yeah, she likes you a lot, Abi. She did ask if anything had happened to you,” Larry said, unsure how to broach the girl’s abuse. It wasn’t something they’d discussed much, even though they’d gone together to her uncle’s house to repay the man that sold her into slavery.

  “I told her someone had abused you, and that your dad, my brother, killed him and went to jail.”

  “Wow,” Abigail said. “You’re a good liar.”

  “Well, I had to tell her something close to the truth, without telling her, well, you know, the truth.”

  “Yeah,” Abigail said, staring at her bedspread. “What do you think she would do, you know, if you did tell her the truth?”

  “What part? What happened to you, or about you being a vampire?”

  “Vampire,” Abi said.

  “I don’t know,” Larry said, hoping Abi wasn’t getting any ideas of confiding to her new friend. “But we can’t take the chance, you know that, right? Katya’s a great girl, but we don’t know her that well, and we have to fly under the radar here.”

  “Yeah,” she nodded. “I know.”

  Abi squeezed her largest, softest pillow, tightly to her chest.

  “What?” Larry sensed that Abigail wanted to say more.

  “I think there’s something wrong with me.”

  Larry sat at the end of the bed. “What do you mean?”

  “The people I killed,” Abigail said, pausing with a swallow before she continued. “When I was getting sick at the restaurant tonight, I kept seeing their memories in my head. I was remembering things like they happened to me, but all of the memories were theirs. None of them were mine. It’s like what happens when I feed, but this was the first time it’s happened while I wasn’t feeding.”

  “Whose memories were you seeing? Karen’s?”

  “Hers and others. A bunch.”

  “How bad was it?” Larry said, suddenly and almost painfully nervous. “And how long did it last?”

  “Terrible. I felt like I wasn’t even in my body. Not sure how long it lasted, but I don’t think it was long.”

  “And that’s the first time it’s ever happened when you weren’t feeding?”

  “Yeah,” Abi nodded. “Do you think you can get John to come visit? I want to ask him if this is normal.”

  “I think so.” Larry nodded.

  “How do you feel now?”

  “Fine, I guess. Just tired. And sad.”

  “Why are you sad?” Larry said, knowing the girl could reel off any number of reasons, and each one legitimate. She’d had a shitty life, and was now living mostly alone, except for his lousy self, and now a few hours of company with Katya per day. Far from a normal life for a girl her age, or any age.

  “I don’t know. I’m just so tired of killing.”

  Larry sighed. “But you have to feed, or you’ll die. I thought you were fine with it, so long as we were killing bad people.”

  “But they’re not all bad.”

  Larry swallowed. “Listen, I know Karen was a mistake. And I’m sorry. I should’ve done a better job with my research. It won’t happen again. I promise.”

  “It’s not just her,” Abigail said, meeting Larry’s eyes.

  “What do you mean? There are other innocents?”

  “No, not that. But they aren’t all bad. A lot of them were good as kids, then their parents, or other people, hurt them. Abused them like Randy did to me. For some of them, stuff was even worse. They were turned into monsters.”

  Larry paused, not wanting to say the wrong thing. “Are you saying we should feel bad for them?”

  “Well, yeah, we should, but that’s not what I’m saying. What I’m trying to say is that every time we kill another one, I feel their pain. All their pain. Their sadness gets added to mine, as if all the bad things that ever happened to them have happened to me too. I don’t know how many more times I can feed on that, especially if the memories are going to keep coming back.

  Larry swallowed. He’d never considered the consequences of feeding from evil, or how it might affect someone so young. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “How does John do it?” Abigail asked. “He only kills bad guys, too, right?”

  “Yeah, but he’s been doing it a lot longer. Plus, he’s not human, so I’m thinking it’s probably different for him. He might be able to compartmentalize things better.” Larry smiled. “Maybe he can teach you to do it, too.”

  “You think?”

  “Yes,” Larry nodded, still smiling while hoping he wasn’t telling yet another lie.

  Abi smiled, then reached out and circled her sleeved arms around Larry’s gut, leaning into him with a giant hug.

  “Thank you, Larry.”

  He hugged her back, swearing she felt more fragile than ever.

  Thirteen

  John

  It had been more than an hour since John heard from Tiny, and, adding another layer of dread to his worry, the big man wasn’t answering any telepathic attempts to reach him.

  Has our connection dropped?

  Has something happened to him?

  John didn’t know the man well, but Tiny had sacrificed his mortality to become a vampire and help John battle Jacob’s Harbingers. In turning Tiny, John had seen inside the man enough to know he was nothing if not loyal. If Tiny said he’d try to find him, he would.

  But will he in time?

  John sank to the ground, leaning against the iron door where he felt certain someone was either standing or sitting on the other side. He would have thought it was Shadow, waiting for him to die, except that didn’t make sense.
If they wanted him dead, why not just kill him while unconscious? Surely, someone like Shadow had a magickal onyx blade at his disposal that could easily kill John.

  But they hadn’t killed him, which meant something else. John wondered if they were trying to scare him, or maybe waiting to question him. He supposed that made more sense. They saw him as the enemy, and rightly so, which gave them plenty of reason to interrogate him.

  Or maybe they’re holding you hostage, trying to trade money for your life.

  That was a possibility John had yet to consider, but it didn’t seem like something Harbinger, or even Shadow, if he was working alone, would do. While he supposed they could extract money from Omega, John didn’t think it was likely that Shadow would hand him, a powerful enemy, back. They had to be looking for information.

  “Why are you holding me here?”

  Still, no answer. After another minute of horrible silence, someone finally spoke.

  “Why did you find me?”

  “Shadow?”

  “Yes. Why did you find me, John?”

  He knows who I am. Of course, it’s his job to know shit.

  “I’m trying to find Jacob. He’s back.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “That’s all I wanted. Can you help?”

  Shadow laughed, long and hard until the laugh collapsed into a rattling cough. “You want help from me? After what you’ve done to my people?”

  “I’ve done nothing to your people.”

  “Don’t insult me with lies, John. I have no patience for the profanity of truth. What’s it like working with the Gestapo? How do you sleep through your daylight without torment from what you’ve done?”

  John said nothing. What could he say to defend the past year? Shadow was right, and right to condemn him.

  “What do they pay you, John, to betray your people? How much are our lives worth?”

  “They don’t pay me,” John said.

  “So, you volunteer?”

  “They’re forcing me. They have someone close to me, and they said if I didn’t help them find Harbingers, and eradicate their threat, they would kill this person.”

  Shadow coughed again. “That’s a touching story, John. It’s good to know there’s at least a reason for your betrayal.”

  “I didn’t betray anyone!” John growled. “It’s not my fault if some innocents were swept in the raids.”

  “No, they’re just collateral damage, right, John?”

  “If you consort with the enemy, you are the enemy, at least in Omega’s eyes.”

  “In mine, too, John. If you consort with the enemy, then you are the enemy. So, tell me, how many lives have you taken for the enemy?”

  John shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  “How many?” Shadow screamed from the other side of the door, pounding on the metal before falling into another fit of coughs.

  He was angry, but why, John wondered — had he, or Omega, killed someone close to Shadow?

  Shadow, quieter this time, repeated his question. “How many?”

  “Seventy-one.”

  Silence from the other side. Then, “Do you see their faces when you sleep?”

  John nodded, then said, “Yes.”

  “And among these faces, do you see this one?”

  John was confused. “Which one?”

  His brain was suddenly invaded by Shadow, forcing his way inside John’s mind swiftly enough to break through every defense. Before John could fight him off, or push him back, Shadow was in full control, forcing John to flash through memories from all the people he’d either helped kidnap or murder through the year. Faces, eyes, and terrified screams rang through John’s mind and memory as Omega raided houses, squatter’s pads, apartments, and even hidden camps in the mountains.

  Memories flashed like lighting, striking at his psyche, but not enough to make him feel the pain he’d inflicted. He’d killed no innocents, at least none he knew of. John’s targets were all Harbinger. Yet, Omega’s agents had, and the flooding memories paused as Shadow found the one which interested him most.

  He tapped into the memory and forced John to watch.

  It was a house in the Cherry Grove suburbs. They were acting on a tip that a known Harbinger magick user was hiding in one of the homes. They stormed the three-story lookalike house at three in the morning, with John leading the charge through the living room, then up the stairs to a family waking in chaos.

  A father, mother, and a 6-year old girl.

  John didn’t need the memory played further, he knew what was coming. Shadow forced him to watch anyway.

  John was led to the basement where they found the man they were looking for, despite the homeowner’s pleas that they knew nothing. John helped the agents subdue the magick user, shoving a hood over his head while ignoring the gunshots erupting upstairs.

  Mike Mathews had control of the hostage, so John, along with three other agents, ran up to the second floor where all three family members lay sprawled on the carpet, shot dead.

  “The man pulled a gun on me,” Agent Broslin said, though no weapon lay on the ground.

  John stared at the trio of bodies, horrified as the little girl looked up, not yet dead — a glimmer of life barely lighting her dying eyes. He kneeled beside her, remembering staring into Abigail’s dead eyes.

  The girl looked confused more than anything. John wanted to save her — to turn her — but was afraid of what the agents would do. Even if they let him save her, there was no way they’d let her go. If turned, they’d either imprison her, or use her, same as him.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

  The light in her eyes faded then died.

  As the memory collapsed, Shadow fled from John’s mind as suddenly as he’d invaded.

  “Who was she?” John whispered.

  “My daughter. Her mother died giving birth. I couldn’t take care of her, so I found someone who could. An old friend. An ally to our people.”

  “I’m so sorry,” John said, knowing there was nothing he could say to soothe the man’s pain, or earn his forgiveness.

  “Yes, I see that. But as you say, those who consort with the enemy are the enemy. Goodbye, John.”

  John heard Shadow moving away from the door.

  “Please,” John cried out, pounding iron. “If Jacob returns, many more innocents will die! You know it, Shadow!”

  Shadow said nothing.

  John kept screaming until he finally surrendered, knowing that Shadow was either gone, or sitting with his back to the door, enjoying John’s torment.

  All John could do was focus on the space above, feeling the earliest hints of the morning sun, no more than forty minutes from bleeding over the horizon. John had another hour, two at most, before the light was strong enough to reach the well’s bottom.

  “Hello?” John called out on the off chance someone was above ground, or that maybe Tiny was close by. He heard nothing.

  Several minutes later a car pulled up and stopped at the top of the well.

  Tiny?

  “Hey, John, can you hear me?”

  Yes!

  “Yes! I’m down here! In the well!”

  “I’ll be right there!”

  Wait, Tiny. Watch out for Shadow! He’s close by, though I don’t know where!

  “Who?”

  John felt an explosion of excruciating pain in his head — shared by Tiny.

  John shouted through his torment. “Tiny!”

  Moments later, a dark shape appeared, blotting the purple sky. John squinted, trying to see who it was. Two seconds into his squint, the shape plummeted toward him. John jumped out of the way as the shape hit the ground.

  Tiny lay on the ground, gushing blood.

  Fourteen

  Greg

  Greg woke to murmuring.

  He slowly opened his eyes and turned to see Hannah’s beautiful face, barely lit by the blue light softly glowing from their bathroom.

  Greg couldn’t wait to get t
o the cabin. His cock throbbed at the thought of another night like the one they’d just shared. He wasn’t sure what had got into Hannah, but damn if he couldn’t do that on repeat.

  She murmured again, as she sometimes did in her sleep, just one of the many cute things he loved so much about her. Hannah’s brow furrowed, her eyes moving rapidly move under their lids.

  “No,” she cried, kicking her leg hard into his shin.

  Greg pulled back, surprised, expecting her to wake after kicking him. But she didn’t, still in the depths of her nightmare.

  “Stop it,” she cried out, loud enough that Greg would have thought her in danger had he heard her from across the house.

  He thought about waking her, but something inside him said to wait it out.

  Her face relaxed, then she giggled.

  He smiled, relieved to see her self-soothing.

  Her giggles turned to moans, and Greg’s cock grew hard again.

  Is she having a sex dream? I wonder if I’m the star?

  He was pleasantly shocked as her hands drifted down to her crotch, moaning louder as she churned herself into a sticky mess beneath the sheets.

  No way she’s sleeping. She’s messing with me. I know it. I should crawl on top of her so we can start round two.

  He glanced at the clock. Only four in the morning. They could go another round and he’d still be able to get a few more hours of sleep before hitting the road in the morning.

  He slid off his boxers, but before he could mount her, Hannah moaned again.

  “Oh, John,” she said, her voice sounding somehow different.

  Greg’s eyes widened.

  John?

  “Stop, John,” she said playfully, giggling, her hands still stewing beneath the sheets.

  Greg stood, heart racing and erection dead.

  He slipped quietly from their room, then went down the hall and into his office, clicking on the small lamp beside his desk.

  He opened his laptop. Its glow lit his face as he clicked on email and started typing a message to Bob Cromwell.