The Shadow Box: Paranormal Suspense and Dark Fantasy Thriller Novels

by Travis Luedke

  Sadie wiped away the last of her tears and dropped the tissue to the floor. “I know,” she whispered, nodding, “I know.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “You’re the one they call Danny-boy?”

  She might have angered him, if he hadn’t been so drunk. And close to death.

  His long, black hair was matted with blood. It dragged tracks in the dirt as he turned his head. She filled his eyes with the sun at her back, crowning her like rose pedals. For a moment, he thought she might be blonde. When she stepped out of the light, he realized it was an illusion. Her hair was light brown, like pecans. Her skin was even darker.

  “Your name is Daniel Boone?”

  “Who says it ain’t?” His Kentucky accent was thick, and slurred by the loss of blood and mouthfuls of whiskey.

  “My name is Emily, soldier.”

  She went to her knees, folding a dirty brown dress under her as she did. Her eyes traced the lines of blood running from the bayonet-wound in his belly, down to the bullet hole in his thigh. His eyes went to her breasts under a loose cotton bodice.

  “The others called you Danny-boy?”

  “I don’t let none but kin and my friends call me Danny-boy.” He panted and looked at the sky. It would be night soon, if he lived that long. “Till you one or the other, I’d be obliged if you’d call me Boone.”

  “I prefer Danny-boy.” She tilted her head, dropping curls over her shoulder. “And you don’t look much obliged to stop me, do you.” Her blue eyes made his head swim…worse than just the whiskey and wounds. He was fine with her calling him Danny-boy. Very fine with it, and he didn’t care why.

  “Yes, ma’am…”

  “That’s a famous name you’ve got there, soldier.”

  “Well, that’s why I got it. I ain’t the one who made it famous, though.”

  She laughed. “No, I would say not. But the way you fought, I’d say you might have made it famous if it hadn’t been so.”

  He liked hearing her talk.

  “You a nurse?” he asked, mindful of the manner in which she eyed his hurts.

  She gave him a pretty smile. “Why do you think I’m a nurse?”

  “Because I saw you—” It was hard to talk through the pain, even after half a bottle of whiskey. “A’tendin’ to the others. I wouldn’t have thought you was a nurse just seeing ye…” He blushed and looked away. “I’m sorry, ma’am, I didn’t mean—”

  She giggled. “Sam wanted me to make sure I saw to you.” Emily’s fingers were cool on his. “He said you fought valiantly.”

  “S-Sam?” He wasn’t sure if it was the booze making his stutter, or the soothing quality of her voice. Whichever it was, it blunted his fear. “You mean, General Hou—?” He winced at ribbons of pain in his belly. Her fingers had drifted to the wound when he wasn’t looking.

  “Quiet there.” She slid closer, giving him a fuller view of her chest. She looked like an angel. “You’re going to be fine.”

  “I reckon so.” He tried to lift the bottle to his lips, but it was heavy in his hand. He gave up and let it fall, spilling into the bloodied dust. “Ought as not, I’ll lose me that leg.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Somehow, he believed her.

  Over her shoulder, crossing the dusk were lines of men carrying dead, brown-skinned soldiers to mass graves. Boone found the cavalrymen’s uniforms comical—or he did, until one of them ran him through. The rest of the battle was a blur, but somewhere between ten dead Mexicans and a blood-stained dagger, Boone took a shot to the leg. Eighteen dead Mexicans later, he fell.

  He looked at Emily and realized something.

  “Why ain’t you tended to them?”

  “Tending to whom?”

  “Your kin!”

  Her smiled faded. Boone shook his head until the pain made him cry out. She squeezed his hand and drew closer. She even smelled like a rose.

  “I didn’t mean to cross you, ma’am.”

  Emily’s smile returned. “It’s fine, Danny-boy.” Their eyes met. He couldn’t bear to look away from them again. “They aren’t my kin, soldier.”

  “You from Texas?”

  “No.”

  She leaned close until her lips hovered above his chest. Her breath made him shiver, until she took his shoulders in her hands. He found he couldn’t move at all.

  “Where you from?”

  “Far, far away, Danny-boy,” her words tickled his skin and made his heart speed.

  She looked into his eyes again. Brown lips fell back over sparkling white teeth. His eyes were blurry, so he wasn’t sure he trusted what they showed him. They seemed different, somehow. Longer… feral.

  He wasn’t afraid anymore.

  She peeled his bloodied shirt back, exposing the dripping bayonet-wound. Her mouth went to it so fast he felt the air split around her head. At once he felt warmth and ecstasy at the tip of her tongue, pushing through the cut. Her breasts pressed against his erection, cradling the shaft between them as she administered to him.

  Boone gasped as her lips clenched over his wound. Her pulse was strong, but steady, throbbing under her breast against him. Moments from climax, she pulled back but not away. Her head slipped between his legs, brushing her lips over his skin. He moaned and tried to touch her face, but was too weak. All he could muster was watching her work.

  His belly was clean now, and no trace of his wound remained. He felt weak, but she held him firm by his hips as her mouth explored the bullet wound in his thigh. The round had penetrated, leaving a clean hole. When her tongue reached it, a shock sent him trembling. He cried out and released, filling his breeches with his seed. It mixed with dried blood and the soothing cool of her touch.

  “You’re special,” she said, crawling over him like a cat. Her lips were stained with his blood and her eyes had narrowed to tiny points of black. His body shifted beneath her. He’d been mounted by a woman before, but this was different. She moved in a way that seemed hungry. “You’re the only one, you know.”

  “The only—?”

  She hushed him with her finger to his lips.

  “You’ll see,” she whispered, bringing her lips to his throat.

  He couldn’t move even if he wanted to. Before he knew it, he’d become hard again. Her hips moved against him with practiced ease, locking him against her. She adjusted her petticoat with one hand, unbuckling his breeches with the other. He was still moist from before, and she took him into her sex with a gasp.

  “Special?” he moaned, filling her. She was cool inside, but full of power and passion. He tried to take her into his arms, but she threw back his hands and pinned him under her like a child.

  “I must make you mine, Danny-boy, before you can see….”

  “How?”

  “You’ll see….” Her lips met his throat, piercing his neck like a pair of razors. No pain, just pressure and the ecstasy of her sex crawling over his body.

  Under the Texan dusk, surrounded by the dead and dying, she made him hers.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Max didn’t wake up in his apartment. When he opened his eyes and looked around at the burnt cinders of a house in the middle of a field, he realized he hadn’t woken up at all. Some said if you were aware of a dream, you could control it. The definition of a nightmare would be to know you’re in a dream, but unable to control anything.

  Max couldn’t see clearly, but he saw a lone figure in the fire-blackened timbers. She moved to him, and Max realized when he tried to move he was paralyzed. He wailed through clenched teeth and turned his eyes to the clouded night sky.

  “Shhh…” Moonshadow put a finger to her lips. “Don’t fight. You want this.”

  Max did not want this at all. He especially didn’t want her undoing his jeans or handling his cock. She did it anyway. Paralyzed or not, it didn’t prevent him from getting an erection. Tears streamed down his cheeks as the vampire lowered her mouth to his lap.

  “You want this,” she whispered, followed
by a giggle. Her cold pink lips ran over his shaft. He tried to look away, but his eyes were drawn to it. Her lips fell back and a pair of sharp, ivory fangs slipped from her jaws.

  “No…” he was able to say, in a hoarse whisper. Moonshadow chuckled and pressed the tips of her fangs to the shaft. Her breath was cold, and the analgesic that dripped from glands under her fangs tickled his flesh. Waves of sickening pleasure washed over his body. Max shuddered in the ashes and burnt timbers.

  Her fangs penetrated. There was no pain—the analgesic saliva numbed the wounds and mixed with his blood. She buried his erection in her mouth and sucked him into her throat. Vampires didn’t have a gag reflex, apparently. At least the ones in his nightmares didn’t.

  He came and died at the same time—causing him to awake with a start. It wasn’t true about dying in dreams. If it was, Max would have been dead a thousand times over.

  The sofa was soaked with sweat. Max felt sticky moisture in his jeans. This had happened too many times before for him to be embarrassed. Usually he started having nightmares and Sadie shook him awake before it got to this point. She wasn’t around this time. The television was on, and he heard sizzling from the kitchen. Sadie was making dinner.

  She must have heard him stirring because she ran into the room. Max shielded his eyes when she turned on the light.

  “Are you okay, baby?”

  He nodded. She walked to the sofa and put her hand on his forehead.

  “You’re burning up. Oh, did you have another nightmare?”

  He nodded. There was no sense lying to her, even if she weren’t an empath she’d have known the truth just by looking at him.

  “Baby, I’m so sorry!” She sat down and put her arms around him. “I didn’t think you’d be asleep long enough or I wouldn’t have left you.”

  “It’s okay.” He patted her hand. She rested her head against his chest. “It isn’t your fault. I shouldn’t have fallen asleep.” She kissed his cheek. His head throbbed from lying without a pillow for so long.

  “I’m making you a burger. Are you hungry?”

  “Yeah.” He stopped before following her to the kitchen. “I want to change clothes first.” She gave him a pitiful look, one he’d seen before but couldn’t stand to see again. He turned and went to the stairs. “Be right back.”

  Max ate faster than he should have. This was his first meal of the day. Being at Michelle’s house had ruined his appetite. He was halfway through a beer when the doorbell rang. Sadie gave him a worried look. Max held up his hand, but she followed him to the door anyway.

  She stopped in the middle of the den as he peered through the peephole. Max turned back to her and nodded for her to leave the room—she didn’t. He hadn’t expected her to anyway. She did step out of sight though.

  Max kept a loaded .38 in a box on his wall disguised as a clock next to the door. He took out the snub-nose revolver and opened the door. A pale faced man with long brown hair stood on his porch. Max recognized him right away as the vampire he didn’t shoot last night.

  Kearny didn’t say anything, he just stepped away from the door and nodded to the street. Max looked beyond the glow of his porch light and saw a long, black SUV parked on the street. Next to one of the doors stood a large black man in a suit with his hands folded over his lap. Max knew him.

  Behind the SUV was Kearny’s car. Three other vampires—one of whom Max recognized as the vampire he had shot—stared at him from it. The moonlight made their eyes glow like wolves’ in the forest. Another car full of vamps was parked in front of the SUV.

  Moonshadow wasn’t taking any chances.

  Max held up a finger to Kearney. He nodded as Max shut the door. Sadie was on him with her arms around his neck before he could turn. She pressed her lips to his then smeared her tears against his face until her mouth was next to his ear.

  “Don’t do this, please!” she whispered.

  “It’s too late.”

  “I won’t be mad at you anymore, just don’t go out there.” She squeezed him to her like she could keep him from pulling away. Max would have hugged her with both arms if he wasn’t holding a gun in one hand.

  “Mercedes, I have to go.” He leaned back and looked into her eyes. “I’ll be fine.” He felt her mind swimming over his. He knew she couldn’t control it all the time, but he didn’t mind. He wanted her to know he was scared. She’d be less worried if she thought he wasn’t going to do anything stupid.

  He handed her the gun, grip first. She took it and nodded. Max gave her a quick kiss and rubbed the side of her head. When he stepped outside, Sadie moved to the doorway. She had the revolver in one hand and her cell phone in the other. She made sure Kearny saw her.

  “Dwayne.” Max nodded to the big black vampire. He nodded and gestured for Max to raise his arms. He obliged. Kearny frisked him. He stopped at Max’s jean pocket and drew a folding knife. He held it up to Dwayne. The vampire tilted his head to the side.

  “Oh, come on!” Max rolled his eyes. “What am I going to do with a pocket knife? Stab her in the leg?” He covered his mouth. “Oh… too soon?”

  Dwayne gave him a dirty look and nodded to Kearny. The vampire put the knife back in Max’s pocket.

  “You’ve got twenty minutes, tops.” He opened the door. “If we smell a talking dinosaur, we kill you and your little girlfriend. And your neighbors. And three or four other people we see on the way out of here, just for good measure.”

  “I got it.” Max nodded and climbed in. “And you know they aren’t actually dinosaurs… stereotypes are hurtful. You of all people should appreciate that, Dwayne—”

  “Shut. Up.”

  Max snickered and took a seat. The leather bench was turned so that it faced the back of the vehicle. The middle row was removed, leaving a small space between Max and the back row. There sat two figures. One was a shaved-headed man holding a shotgun with a folded stock across his lap. Next to him sat a woman.

  “Hello, Max.”

  He forced himself to look at her. She rested her hands on an afghan around her hips. She hadn’t bothered with plastic legs, so she looked like the top of a mannequin. Her long wig was pulled back in a tight bun. It made the blue lines under her skin seem to pop out through her pale flesh.

  Max shuddered, but thought he could disguise it as being startled by the door shutting. Moonshadow’s smile implied he hadn’t hidden it well enough.

  Dwayne climbed into the seat next to him. It was cold there with three vampires. Max felt like his heart had sped up to compensate for the lack of pulses in the enclosed area. It wasn’t that vampire hearts didn’t beat, they just did so slowly. Max was doubly annoyed by his body’s reaction because he knew the vamps were all aware of it. It might work in his favor though. If they knew he was afraid of them, they wouldn’t expect him to try anything and therefore wouldn’t be jumpy.

  In theory…

  “I only half expected you to come.” Max grinned. Yes, humor… mock the vampires, moron.

  She took a deep breath and tilted her head. The shotgun-toting vampire rolled back his lips and showed his fangs. Max pretended he didn’t want to scream.

  “What do you want, Hollingsworth?” asked Dwayne.

  Max glanced over at him and forced a smile.

  “I’m looking for someone,” he replied. He turned back to Moonshadow. “I think some of your minions might have had something to do with her disappearing.”

  “It’s possible.” She nodded once. “But if you’re going the way I think you’re going, then I can assure you we had nothing to do with it.”

  “I guess your goons have been following me around while I work?”

  She answered with a blank stare.

  “Fine, whatever. I know vampires are involved in this and they’re local so that means they’re your responsibility. I’m not going to cause any problems. I just need to know what happened to the girl and your assurance certain people will be left alone from now on.”

  “They are not mine.
” She waved a thin hand. “The Aryan vampires don’t answer to me. You think I’d willingly associate with them?”

  “Uh, yes. You’re a vampire.”

  Moonshadow rolled her eyes. “The Aryan vampires don’t answer to anyone but the Aryan Volk Alliance. They’re a faction all their own.”

  Dwayne took over the exposition. “Vampires in their group won’t answer to any authority in the region unless it has sworn allegiance to the white supremacist cause… which you should know us well enough to know we would never do.”

  “Zol just lets this happen?”

  She shrugged. “It isn’t usually an issue. The AVA are too occupied with selling meth and stockpiling weapons for the Racial Holy War they all think is coming.”

  “Vampire members are like their special forces,” Dwayne explained. He was understandably not happy talking about vampire skinheads. “If vampires move against the AVA, they have to deal with the whole gang. That means white supremacist bikers, Klansmen, Militia wackos.”

  “You’re afraid of these guys?” Max crooked an eyebrow.

  “It’s more trouble than it’s worth,” said Moonshadow. “Especially here. You have no idea how firmly entrenched the Aryans are in this area.”

  “I think I have some idea.” Max sighed and looked at his reflection in the tinted window. He thought about how spooky it would be if the legends about vampires not having reflections were true. It would have looked like he was sitting in the back of a truck with three empty sets of clothing and a floating shotgun.

  “So we have nothing to do with this girl.”

  “But the others?” He looked at her. “You know about the others? The last sixteen years in that trailer park, kids have been going missing and parents forgetting about them… and the Aryans have only been there for a few months.”

  Moonshadow didn’t answer.

  “Oh, I get it. You were snatching up the kids until the Aryans put their meth lab in the woods. Now they snatch the kids. Why’d you ever let the Aryans into the park in the first place?”

  “We didn’t,” Moonshadow answered at length. “The park is owned by the Eternal Life Christian Church. They invited the Aryans in for ideological reasons.”