The Darkness of Sable

by Faith Bicknell

  “Ch-Cheyenne?”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Rain

  C heyenne said nothing. She stared at Sable, accusation bright in her eyes.

  “It’s so wonderful to see you, honey,” Sable continued as surprise and elation ripped through her. Her daughter was here in front of her! “I see you’re wearing the gothic clothes. Are you still into that stuff? I thought I saw you on the street wearing jeans and a shirt.”

  A shadow of discontent moved over Cheyenne’s face.

  Inwardly, Sable cringed.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded,” she rushed on. “I’m just so shocked to find you here. I wasn’t expecting…”

  Cheyenne turned, ambled to the balcony doors, and looked out at the storm moving across the city. Lightning winked everywhere. Thunder rumbled over and over.

  Sable trailed her daughter. She stopped several feet behind her. “Did Thomas let you in?”

  Cheyenne turned the handles and shoved the doors open. Cool, damp air greeted Sable and swept a combination of ocean and freshwater aromas through the suite. Cheyenne stepped out onto the balcony. Rain fell gently. Within seconds, it transformed into a steady downpour. Booms shook the air, and the wind grew boisterous.

  “Honey, come in out of the rain. Let’s talk.” Sable stepped across the threshold and held one hand out. “You’re going to get wet, maybe come down with something.”

  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

  “What?” Sable frowned. “I don’t want you to get sick.”

  “You’re the one who drove me away,” Cheyenne said, her tone belligerent. “Why should I believe you now?”

  “I…I was just trying to do the right thing by you,” Sable said. Her daughter’s words stabbed deeply. She was right. Cheyenne had run away right after their last argument. “I’m sorry about what happened, honey.”

  “It’s too late for apologies.” With agility that Sable didn’t expect, Cheyenne moved around the potted palm on the terrace and climbed over the railing.

  “Wh-what are you doing? Don’t go out there!” Sable hurried out onto the terrace. “Cheyenne!”

  Her daughter moved along the ledge to the corner of the building. She kept her face turned away, taking one small step at a time.

  “Cheyenne, come back!” Terror for her rushed through Sable, rendering her immobile.

  “Why?” Cheyenne’s voice drifted to her on the slashing rain. “You never wanted me to stay before. You always had to have your way, wanted me to do this, not do that. I’ll just end it all. That way you’ll pay for all the horrible things you’ve done.”

  “Cheyenne, I love you.” Sable gulped down a knot in her throat and blinked away the tears pricking her eyes. “Let me make things right between us.” The rain stung Sable’s face. Water soaked her towel, and she yanked it from her hair, throwing it on the patio table. She slipped one arm free of her robe, tossed her hair down her back out of her way, and shouldered into her robe again, cinching the sash.

  The wind whipped Cheyenne’s long blonde hair against the building. Her black skirt and peasant blouse rippled in the breeze along the outline of her body. The heels of her dark, scuffed combat boots touched the wall, the toes almost even with the sill’s edge. A crack of lightning revealed her in startling clarity. Slowly, she crept farther along the ledge.

  Fear choked Sable. Fear for her daughter’s safety as well as her own. She glanced down at the hotel grounds far, far below them. Dizziness assailed her, and she gripped the railing so hard her fingers protested.

  Hell-bent on saving Cheyenne, Sable swung one leg over the railing, followed by the other. Don’t look down, don’t look down…

  She moved out on the ledge. “Cheyenne,” she called, hoping the wind didn’t rip her words away. “I’m coming to get you, baby.”

  “Just leave me alone, let me die. You never cared before!”

  “That’s not true!” Sable inched along the ledge, her bare feet gripping the slippery marble.

  Ten feet out, Sable paused to get her bearings. Wind buffeted her. Rain slashed at her body, stung her face and ripped her breath away. Cheyenne was only another ten or so feet away from her. If she could just reach her, get her to take her hand, Sable could lead her back to the balcony and over to safety.

  Out in front of her, the last traces of twilight faded. The city lights twinkled in the gloom, the rain distorting the scene. The colored lights wavered like dying embers.

  “Sable! What the hell are you doing?”

  She turned her head to the right. Thomas gripped the railing, his eyes wide, shocked. “Come back here, baby girl.” He held out one hand.

  “I have to reach her first,” she shouted back.

  An odd expression spread over his features.

  She took a few more steps toward Cheyenne.

  “Sable, no!”

  Thunder cannoned around the hotel.

  Cheyenne kept her face turned away. As Sable inched closer to her, she heard her daughter’s terrified, anguished sobs.

  “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m here.” Sable reached out, fingers questing, and hope sprang to life within her. She almost had Cheyenne. Only a few inches separated them. In seconds, Sable would touch her again and know that warm feeling of holding her child in her arms once more. “Take my hand, honey. I’ll lead you back to the terrace, and we’ll talk about everything, make things right again.”

  Lightning strobed around them, the illumination so bright that Sable squeezed her eyes shut. Thunder grumbled, but another flash of lightning penetrated her eyelids, and the resulting crack nearly jarred her from the ledge. Cheyenne gasped next to her, and Sable pressed herself tighter against the wall.

  “God help us,” she whispered. She opened her eyes and looked over at her daughter, stretching her hand farther, moving a couple more hesitant steps closer. “Give me your hand.”

  Blindly, her daughter reached out, still refusing to look at her.

  Sable clutched Cheyenne’s fingers. A shred of relief washed over her along with the rain, but they still had a good twenty slippery feet to traverse before they were safe again.

  “Sable, come back to me,” Thomas shouted.

  “I’m coming,” she called. To Cheyenne, she said, “Move with me, honey. One step at a time.”

  Slowly, inch by agonizing inch, they shuffled back along the marble sill toward the balcony.

  “That’s it, baby girl,” Thomas’s worried voice reached Sable. “Nice and easy. Move slowly.”

  A gust of wind screamed around the corner, pummeling them. Sable shrieked, her heart flailing so hard she thought it might burst through her breastbone.

  “Stand still,” Thomas hollered. “Let the wind calm first.”

  The gale ended, and Sable clutched Cheyenne’s hand tighter. Together, they moved toward the terrace.

  “Two more steps and I’ve got you,” Thomas said.

  “I don’t want to go back,” Cheyenne said.

  “You have to,” Sable replied. “You can’t stay out here. You might die.”

  Thomas called out, “Who are you talking to?”

  Something poked Sable’s mind. She paused, looked over at Thomas, and quivered at his totally perplexed expression. Lightning flickered behind him, creating a halo effect.

  She tore her gaze away from him and focused on her daughter. Slowly, Cheyenne turned her head. Rain plastered her fair locks to her skull and coursed over her face to drip off her nose. Two neon-green flames danced in place of her pupils. Deranged delight slipped over her features.

  “No,” Sable squeaked.

  “Oh, yes,” the semblance replied and stepped off the ledge.

  Sable tried to jerk her hand away, but the she-devil wouldn’t let go. A hard yank on her arm unbalanced her. She screamed and pitched forward.

  “NO!” Thomas cried.

  Until that moment, Thomas had been unable to see who or what Sable was talking to, but once the invisible creatu
re leaped off the ledge, it let itself be seen. Darkness whirled around a form. Bright violet eyes glowed, and as the thing solidified, Thomas’s fear matured until it was bigger than the building. What were those things? Who were they and where did they come from? He recalled the Asrai it had impersonated, and suddenly the rat in the restaurant made sense. Had Sable encountered one in the restroom there?

  By all that’s magic, give me the strength to hold Sable.

  Sable’s feet kicked out over empty space. Below her, palm tree fronds tossed about like cheerleaders’ pompoms. Two tiny figures ran from the guest garden to the dry warmth of the hotel. A car looked like a tiny Hot Wheels as it pulled in off a side street and drove under them to the carport. The wind tore at her robe, and the weight of the garment, an anchor of saturated fabric, dragged at her body, pulling Thomas farther over the railing.

  “I got you,” Thomas said, heart thrashing. “Don’t let go.”

  “Pull me up, please!” Terror consumed her voice, and a knot of horror clenched Thomas’s guts. She swung her free arm around and caught his other hand. “Don’t drop me!”

  He grunted. “I won’t let anything happen to you.” He braced his feet against the bottom of the banister. “Kick like crazy and get rid of that thing.”

  Her gaze met his, and relief washed through her eyes. She knew he finally saw the thing trying to pull her to her death. Determination replaced the emotion, and she kicked her feet as if stomping out a fire.

  A furious screech followed. Thomas peered past Sable’s body at the Paranorm, but instead of falling, it burst into black ash and disappeared in the downpour.

  Thomas tugged on Sable’s arms, backing up slightly. Once he had her halfway up the railing, she let go of one of his hands and gripped a bar in the banister. He used his free hand to grasp her upper arm and yank her over the rail and onto the terrace.

  Panting, Sable collapsed with him on the balcony. She sobbed against his neck. “You saw it, didn’t you?”

  “Yes.” He hugged her so tightly, afraid she’d vanish from his arms.

  “So I’m not crazy?”

  “No, baby girl, you’re not crazy.”

  “Th-that thing posed as Cheyenne!”

  “I know. I’ve seen it a couple times, too.” Thomas pushed her back, gripping her shoulders, and studied her eyes. The rain dashed down on them. Beads of water slithered through his cornrows, into his eyes, and down into his beard to drip off his chin. “I have no idea what it is, though, but I figure there’s more than one.”

  She blinked. “What? There are more of those things?” she cried, her voice rising with panic. “I know it sounds insane, but those things are trying to kill me.”

  “Let’s go inside,” he said, his pulse slowing. He battled with the need to tell Sable the whole truth. First, he’d have to hear what she had to say, see things from her perspective. Until then, he would be careful what he told her. “You can tell me what’s been going on since we arrived in Naples—and I want the whole truth.”

  In her suite, a food cart waited. Lids still covered the dishes. A carafe and two cups sat on the coffee table. Thomas must have been about to pour coffee when he’d realized the balcony doors were open and she was gone. On shaky legs, Sable hurried to the bathroom, shed her sodden robe, and wrapped a dry towel around herself. She turbaned her head again and returned to the living area.

  “Feel better?” Thomas asked as he poured coffee.

  “Yes.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I think so.”

  “So…” He turned, clutching a coffee cup and saucer. Hands trembling and china tinkling together, he handed her the steaming drink. “Tell me what’s going on, and don’t skimp on the details.”

  At the sight of his quivering form and shaking hands, guilt struck Sable so hard it nearly knocked her to her knees.

  “Where do you want me to start?” She accepted the cup from him and stepped into the arm he held out to her.

  “From the beginning,” he replied. He touched her mouth with a light kiss. “You scared me shitless. Although it’s been years since I lost Ra-Aysha, it’s still fresh in my mind. For a few minutes, I thought I was going to lose you, too.”

  She’d forgotten he’d suffered through the senseless death of his wife. Her guilt increased tenfold. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you, but I found Cheyenne standing right here in my suite, and then she stepped outside and climbed over the railing. She accused me of never loving her.” She leaned her head against his shoulder. “My only thought was to save her and make things right again.”

  “Like the day you saw her on the street.”

  “Yes.”

  Cold seeped into Sable’s bones. Had she seen Cheyenne the other day, or had it been another one of those creatures posing as her daughter? She shivered. Now she wasn’t so sure, and if one of those things had posed as Cheyenne, it had nearly succeeded in killing her that day, too.

  “You need to change into dry clothes,” she said.

  “Oh no. I’m not letting you out of my sight.” He hugged her.

  “I’ll stand in the doorway while you change. How’s that?”

  He put his cup of coffee down, took her hand, and drew her to the door joining their suites. He flung it wide and strode to the lavatory door where a thick robe hung. Shrugging out of his shirt, Thomas tossed it on the bathroom floor, followed by kicking off his shoes and socks and wiggling out of his soaked jeans.

  Sable gaped at his physique. Honed muscles lined his tall form. His broad back beckoned her to touch it. Even through his damp briefs, his ass looked firm and inviting. Desire roared through Sable to pool in her lower belly.

  He slipped on the hotel robe, cinched it, and turned to her. Guiltily, she averted her gaze.

  “Okay, let’s relax, talk everything over, and then we’ll go from there,” he said.

  Back in her suite, they settled on the sofa with their coffee and sandwiches. Hesitantly, Sable began her tale. She told Thomas about the sounds in the limo the night they’d arrived in Naples, about the giant of a man who’d grabbed her in the garden and the red flash of his eyes. She relayed the story of her bath and dozing off to find a creature snapping at her face. The more she spoke, the faster the words tumbled from her lips. She mentioned the voices on the balcony and spoke of the bird-creature in the ER, the dreams, the monster in the limo, the sculpture awakening at the art gala, and every encounter up to the rat-turned-she-devil in the restaurant’s powder room. She ended her tale with The Threshold’s odd vanishing trick and the strange sights she’d seen at the nightclub and finished with the imposter Cheyenne luring her out on the ledge.

  However, she wasn’t ready to talk about Rick. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

  “Hal made a comment tonight about the nightclub, too. He swore the place wasn’t there this afternoon.”

  “It wasn’t.”

  He held up one hand, silencing her. “What do you think is going on, Sable?”

  She offered him a pleading expression. “You’ll think I’m nuts.”

  “Sable, I’ve seen this smoke monster, too, remember?”

  “Until this trip, I’ve never believed in ghosts or anything paranormal. But I can’t deny crazy stuff happening and that something wants me dead. The man in the garden warned me to stop looking for Cheyenne…”

  “And?”

  “And I think this all centers around her. Someone doesn’t want me to find my daughter, but I don’t understand why, nor do I understand why it all seems to be tied to things that…well…things that go bump in the night.” She sighed and set her cup on the coffee table. “Thomas, what’s been happening is stuff that kids believe in, not adults.”

  He moved the sandwich platter to the table. “The only thing you can do right now, Sable, is keep your eyes and ears open and take it one day at a time.” Pulling her into his arms, he kissed the top of her damp head and trailed his fingers back and forth along her bare arm.

  “I know,”
she replied, relishing the feel of his body, his touch on her skin. “But how do I protect myself?”

  “I’ll do my best to protect you, baby girl.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Powerless

  “H ow can you protect me?” Sable asked. If Thomas didn’t stop touching her, she would melt into a puddle of goo. How could a simple caress create such intense desire?

  “Hey, just because I’m an agent doesn’t mean I don’t have a few connections and a couple of tricks up my sleeve.” He kissed the top of her head. “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”

  Sable twisted slightly in his arms to look into his eyes. Something danced in their onyx depths, something protective, intense, determined and…and what? Suddenly, and without a definite reason, she got the impression there was more to Thomas than she’d ever imagined.

  I can’t put my finger on what it is, but something has changed.

  He smiled and cupped her cheek.

  “You mean it, don’t you?” she asked. “That you’ll do whatever it takes?”

  He nodded, his gaze trained on hers.

  “Thank you.”

  “Sable, I…” He swallowed, and all the tiny hints in his eyes vanished. Smoldering desire replaced them, the smokiness transforming to need. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he said huskily.

  She tried to respond, but the yearning she saw in his eyes and his longing tone rendered her speechless. All she could do was stare back at him and hope he kissed her.

  As if sensing her thoughts, Thomas lowered his head and claimed her lips.

  White-hot heat pooled in her belly. She whimpered and returned his kiss with abandonment. He tasted her lips, his mouth slanting across hers, hands roving over her body. Sable pressed closer. Oh, how she wanted to have him thrusting inside her, their bodies straining.

  He released her mouth and, panting, leaned his forehead against hers. He released a shaky breath, tightening his arms around her body. “I don’t want you to feel as though I’m taking advantage of you.”