by John Everson
But this morning, that bliss was gone.
David rubbed a fist in his eyes and tried to focus. “Brenda?” he called.
Since the night that they had left the old hotel behind, she had stayed with him at his aunt’s house. Elsie hadn’t returned from the hotel; neither had a bunch of people. And considering that the entire police force of Castle Point had been wiped out there, nobody was booking suspects or pressing charges.
The two of them had come back here to the tiny house and pretty much held on to each other without askance. They were still, somewhat, in shell shock. She told him what she could remember about being held in the room at Castle House Lodge, and he told her about looking for her.
“You really looked for me?” she said, when he talked about going back to the bar and interviewing people at the grocery to find out where she’d gone after the night of their fateful meeting.
“Yeah,” he confirmed. “I figured you owed me money. Wasn’t I buying the Guinness that night?”
“You wish,” Brenda said. “I think you owe me at least three rounds.”
Something creaked at the far corner of the room and David pulled the sheets around his neck. The air streaming in through the screens from the backyard was crisp and cool in the summer dawn, and he took a deep breath as he craned his head to look for the source of the noise.
It was Brenda, stepping out of the tiny bath adjoining his room.
“Okay?” he asked, hardly even meaning it. But she didn’t give him the easy answer.
“No,” she said.
Brenda wore only a pair of panties; pink ones, which David totally appreciated. Her breasts sloped low and tired in the morning light, but all he wanted to do was kiss them. He thought of the night before, as she’d let him do just that, but then had begged him to stop pressing her for more and simply hug her tight.
“What’s the matter?”
She held out a thin paper strip in her hand, and he looked confused as he saw two pink lines at its end.
“What are you showing me?” he asked.
“I’m pregnant,” she said. Her voice was barely audible in the quiet of the room.
“But, it can’t be mine,” he instantly said, and instantly regretted it.
Her voice was sharp. “I didn’t say it was.”
“Rockford’s?” he asked, a knife of jealousy coming out of nowhere as he pictured the doctor’s body pinning hers to the bloody basement of the old hotel.
“I don’t think so,” Brenda said, sinking to sit on the edge of the bed.
“Well then…”
Brenda thought of the cold thrusting between her legs on Rockford’s impromptu altar, as the air flamed around her like an explosion of lust.
“It’s not over ’til it’s over,” she said.
“What do you mean?” he said, reaching up to press a hand on the cool flesh of her belly. It twined beneath his hand like a snake.
“I mean, that something happened at the hotel that I can’t explain,” she finally said. “Something horrible.”
“What do you mean?” David asked, hands turning to ice as he held her waist and silently prayed.
“I mean something happened,” she said. “Something that made me…”
“Made you what?”
Brenda put her hands on David’s shoulders and closed her eyes as she leaned against his head.
“Made me the Thirteenth,” she whispered. “The demon is here, inside me.” She pressed his hand to her belly, and inside, again, he felt motion…which was impossible at this early stage. Only a few days had passed since they’d escaped the nightmare.
Brenda bent to kiss his lips, one long strand of pink hair falling over his cheek to tickle him, before she leaned away, tears coursing down her cheeks. His hand still tingled with the motion from inside her, a movement that was unnatural…but undeniable.
“Kill me, David,” she begged. “Before it’s born, kill me. Please.”
She pressed the cold steel of a butcher’s knife into his hands, and David felt his throat close as the tears of hopelessness welled up in his eyes. “No,” he whispered, but Brenda grasped him by the wrist and pulled him closer, for a final, fatal embrace.
David closed his eyes against her shoulder, and prayed for a dream to wake him.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Bars are great places to write; you settle in for a night in a cozy booth, people bring you Newcastle when you’re dry, and if the DJ knows best, there are no distractions. This novel started at a Chicago shot-and-a-beer joint called Trinity tended by a perky girl named Christy. It spent a couple nights brewing at Fado’s in Washington, D.C., and Chicago, enjoyed an artist-in-residence stand at Dublin Square in San Diego, unveiled a few key scenes at The Liberties and Johnny Foley’s Irish House in San Francisco, and wrapped at Quigley’s and Rizzo’s in my hometown of Naperville. If only my publishers had picked up the tabs!
Special thanks to Don D’Auria and Dave Barnett for supporting this twisted vision, and to Geri and Shaun for indulging my world tour of Irish bars. Thanks to Bill Breedlove, Bill Gagliani, and Rhonda Wilson for improving my besotted command of the English language; and to my “first fans” Kathy Kubik and Paul Gifford who have never failed to inspire and encourage. Thanks to my Street Team for so much help—you guys are amazing! Thanks to my Polish connection, Robert Cichowlas, Mateusz Bandurski, and Alina Ciejka for helping my words cross the ocean and a language barrier.
Thanks for constant encouragement to my Dark Arts “Sirens” Loren, Maria, Bel, Christa, Jade, Martel and Whitney; and to Dave Benton, Audrey Shaffer, Jen Vickers, TigerLady, Terri Beirness, Sheila Halterman, Jess Kaan, Peg Phillips, Sheila and Joan, Lauren and Brenda, John Palisano, Louise Bohmer, and Giovanna Lagana.
This Dark Dream is for you!
CRITICS PRAISE JOHN EVERSON AND THE 13TH!
“John Everson’s The 13th is one of the creepiest and most compelling novels I’ve read in years. It’s a brand new genre: 21st Century Gothic that has street smarts and scares in equal measures.”
—Jonathan Maberry, Bram Stoker Award-winning Author of Patient Zero
SACRIFICE
“Sacrifice is not for the timid or weak of heart, it is a full frontal assault on your senses. It is a dark, brutal, bloody, and terribly frightening book. Everson went deep into some dark abyss to bring this book to the light of day…I highly recommend Sacrifice.”
—Famous Monsters of Filmland
“Everson is in full form. The action is quick, brutal, and visceral. In many ways, Sacrifice is like that “slasher flick” we know we shouldn’t enjoy but do anyway.”
—Shroud Magazine
“If you like your horror with healthy doses of blood and sex, this is the book for you.”
—Fear Zone
“This is a novel that begs to be finished in one night, and likely will be.”
—Horror World
“Everson demonstrates genuine skill…”
—Bookgasm
“John Everson manages in Sacrifice to dispense buckets of blood, provide edgy perversity, and walk the tenuous tightrope of horror and sex without falling: it’s rather an amazing feat.”
—Hell Notes
“John Everson is bringing a whole new nightmare to the world of horror.”
—The Horror Review
COVENANT
“Covenant—now available as a mass-market paperback—won Everson a Bram Stoker Award back in 2004, and after reading it, you’ll agree that this tight, gripping story was definitely worthy of the distinction.”
—Rue Morgue
“I’ve waited four long years to read Covenant and it was well worth it. Everson has taken a classic genre plot and given it his own spin. This is how horror is done RIGHT.”
—The Horror Fiction Review
“You might even begin to wonder with writing this good, if Everson agreed to his own covenant in order to create this devilishly dark and terrifying tale.”
—Pagan Pulse Magazine
“Truly entertaining no-frills horror, which is a damned good thing.”
—Horror World
“Equal parts dark mystery and supernatural horror, Covenant is a white-knuckle reading experience that will keep you guessing and gasping.”
—Creature Feature
“Everson allows the storylines to unfurl, carefully layering each of the individual character’s arcs as he crosses genres ending up with a nice blend of mystery and horror.”
—Dark Scribe Magazine
“John Everson has written a powerful tale as readers wonder whether it is a coincidence, the supernatural, or a serial killer behind the suicides.”
—Midwest Book Review
Other Leisure Books by John Everson:
SACRIFICE
COVENANT
Copyright
A LEISURE BOOK®
November 2009
Published by
Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc.
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New York, NY 10016
Copyright © 2009 by John Everson
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e-ISBN: 978-1-4285-0746-3
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