The Mistwalker (Dark Tales Book 2)

by Regine Abel

  I got into the car, and Kazan closed the door for me before walking up to the driver’s window. He pulled out a fifty dollar bill, almost double the cost of the fare, and handed it to the driver.

  “Please take her home and wait until she’s inside the house before leaving.”

  The cabbie nodded, and Kazan gave him my address before turning to look at me through the backseat window. He gestured for me to lower it. I complied.

  “Call me as soon as you arrive to let me know you’re fine, all right?”

  “I will.”

  “Good girl.”

  He smiled and watched us drive off before turning back to retrace our steps. As the cab u-turned to head back out of City Center, I stared at Kazan, pulling his mobile phone from his pocket to call the cops.

  It wasn’t until halfway through the trip home that it finally hit me that we could have died tonight. My entire body began to shake, and tears gathered in my eyes. Blinking them back, I hugged myself, wishing for Kazan’s arms around me instead.

  He should have stayed with me.

  Despite feeling abandoned, he’d made the right call by staying. I couldn’t have. He no doubt sensed it and sent me away before I fell apart, and yet, I didn’t want to be alone. Even the presence of the Mistwalker would have been welcomed. As much as he scared me, I no longer doubted that he wanted me safe.

  The trip home took forever. At last, we pulled up to the house. Finding my neighbors, Mr. and Mrs. Palmer, sitting in their matching rocking chairs on their front porch had a soothing effect on me, bringing back a sense of normalcy. As soon as the weather turned warm enough, the older couple never missed a chance to enjoy a nightcap and casual conversations under a night sky. I’d joined them on the odd occasion.

  After thanking the driver, I exited the cab, nodded at the Palmers, and walked up to my front door. Once inside the house, I waved at the cabbie who bowed his head before driving off.

  Heading straight for the living room, I all but collapsed on the couch and immediately whipped out my phone to call Kazan. He answered at the first ring.

  “You’re home,” he said in greeting.

  “Yes, thank you,” I said, oddly comforted by the sound of his voice. “Where are you?” I asked, dreading his response.

  “On my way home.”

  I recoiled slightly in surprise. Kicking off my shoes, I raised my feet onto the couch, hugging my knees to my chest.

  “That was fast. Did the cops give you a hard time?”

  His slight pause before answering made me nervous.

  “I didn’t wait for them,” he confessed.

  My jaw dropped. “What?”

  “I didn’t want to get the third degree from them or be stuck with all the paperwork. For sure, they would have asked me to file a complaint of some sort,” he said somewhat defensively. “I stayed long enough to make sure our attackers were taken care of, then I left.”

  I nodded to myself. In his shoes, I probably wouldn’t have stuck around either, especially considering the serious damage he’d inflicted.

  “Okay. I… I’m glad you handled it. I was in a bit of a state of shock.”

  “I know, my darling. I’m so sorry this happened.”

  “It’s not your fault. Thank you for protecting me.”

  “Always, Jade. Always.”

  The solemn way in which he spoke the words sounded like an oath. It moved me deeply.

  “I hate that our evening ended this way. Tomorrow, I promise to make it up to you,” Kazan said.

  My stomach dropped. It finally sank in that, the whole ride home, I’d actually been leaning toward not going to his place to model for him. A part of me wanted to, the other part was screaming pretty loudly that this had been a sign, to end it now before it got even more complicated.

  “You are still coming, right?” Kazan asked when the silence stretched.

  “I… hmmm…”

  “Don’t do this, Jade,” he whispered, his voice hurt and pleading. “I’m sorry things went belly up tonight, but don’t let those thugs ruin our plans even more.”

  His pained tone melted my heart.

  “Kazan…”

  “Please, say yes. Please!”

  I inhaled deeply, knowing myself to be defeated. “Okay.”

  “Promise!” he insisted, his voice more forceful.

  “I promise.”

  “I will hold you to it, Jade. If you’re not here by 9:00 AM, I’ll camp on your front yard and make a ruckus until you come out.”

  “Nine in the morning? On a Saturday?” I exclaimed, wondering if he had lost his ever-loving mind.

  “Models are usually expected to show up at 7:00 AM,” he deadpanned. “Be grateful for my leniency.”

  “But…”

  “Nine, Jade. Or prepare to explain to your neighbors who the crazy man is outside your house.”

  “Fine, you bully,” I mumbled.

  He chuckled. “Sleep well, Jade. I really enjoyed spending time with you tonight and can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

  My stomach fluttered, and I couldn’t help the smile stretching across my face. Damn the man and his ability to soothe me so easily.

  “Good night, Kazan.”

  CHAPTER 4

  Kazan

  Seething with rage, I struggled to remain contained in my human vessel. A single, primal desire dominated my thoughts: track and kill those who had threatened my mate. They had not only ruined Jade’s peaceful happiness and frightened her, they’d also forced me to show myself and my power to her on the Mortal Plane, before she was ready.

  My woman feared me and what I represented. Every minute before the next Mist counted to make her understand that no other being, in this plane or any other world, could make her happier than I could. I was made for her, and she was the only female that could ever touch my heart. This human vessel would serve to make Jade realize she belonged by my side. I needed her to willingly cross the Veil into the Mist Plane.

  But those two bastards had almost ruined it all.

  The scent of her fear still stung my nose and fueled my anger. Traveling the Mortal Plane without the Mist to sustain me heavily taxed my energy reserves, as did this vessel. Nine years I had waited to finally make contact with my mate, and it had finally happened, thanks to her sister’s carelessness. I’d gorged on the life force of Mistbeasts for the remainder of the Mist to build enough energy reserves to remake this form in order to remain by her side and lure her to me. This one battle with the thugs had all but drained me. Failing to replenish myself soon would force me to cross the Veil, and I wouldn’t be able to return to my Jade until the next Mist.

  That wouldn’t do.

  As my human vessel closed the distance to the unconscious thugs, I shifted the fragments of my essence, planted inside of their bodies when I struck them, that prevented them from waking. In spite of their severe wounds, I didn’t want to chase them through the streets of the Mortal Plane or risk other humans finding them before I could deal with them. I seized control of their vocal chords instead, as they came to, keeping them from screaming for help.

  The revolting scent of their fear and pain filled my nostrils. I hated to feed on negative emotions, or on the life force of the sickly or the evil, but this vermin, I would enjoy devouring. Their terror rose like a tidal wave as I showed myself in my full, ethereal glory and gorged on their emotions. Unable to scream, their pleading eyes looked beyond me at my human vessel. But no help would come for them this night. Hovering over each of them in turn, I drained their life force, leaving just enough for them to remain in a semi-vegetative state. In time, months, if not years, they had a slim chance of recovering. Although killing them would have pleased me more, sucking their life force any further would leave a shriveled husk behind that couldn’t be explained in any rational fashion.

  But more importantly, it would upset Jade.

  My beautiful Jade… Her happiness, the feel of her body against my human vessel, the heady scent of her ar
ousal, and the delectable taste of her essence constituted the most divine nectar. I wanted to drown in it. Soon, she would be completely mine.

  The distant sound of sirens prompted me to return to my human vessel, hurry back to the cab stand, and get away from this place. My Jade would call me any minute, now.

  * * *

  Despite sensing her presence before she’d even entered the building, the chime of the doorbell startled me. I forced myself to walk at a measured pace to the door before opening it. Jade looked breathtaking in a simple, knee-length, beige summer dress with butterfly print around the hem. Until this moment, I’d feared she wouldn’t come.

  “Five minutes early,” I said in greeting, smiling and gesturing for her to come in. “I guess the threat of making a ruckus in your neighborhood worked! I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

  The slight tension stiffening her shoulders lessened as she chuckled.

  “You have no idea how stuck up some of them can be. That was a most cruel threat,” she said with false displeasure as she shrugged her black shawl off her shoulders.

  The weather forecasted another warm and sunny day but the morning remained a little chilly.

  “You look beautiful,” I said, taking the shawl from her then leaning in to kiss her.

  She tensed again, this time not in fear, but with excitement and anticipation. While our relationship was clearly moving into a romantic one, the previous night’s last minute fiasco had prevented us from concluding it in any kind of formal way. I needed to erase any doubt from her as to where our status stood.

  Wrapping my free arm around her waist, I drew her closer to me and brushed my lips against hers. I stopped to look into her eyes. Although this was her chance to pull away, I already knew she wouldn’t. Reading her emotions in the Mortal Plane constantly challenged me, but never when it came to her attraction for me or her state of arousal. However, she needed to know that I would move at her pace and not push further than she could handle. Her shy smile in response sufficed for me to go for seconds. This time, I kissed her with conviction, my hand sliding up her back to cup her nape.

  When her lips parted, I tilted my head to the side to deepen the kiss. As our tongues made their first acquaintance, I reveled in her naturally sweet taste, further enhanced by the mint she had eaten, probably on her way here. Jade leaned into me, her soft moan—barely a sigh—the most beautiful of sounds. I felt myself harden, a terrible hunger rising from deep within.

  Not now. Not yet.

  With much reluctance, I ended the kiss, pleased that her disappointment echoed my own.

  “Come on, let me give you a tour,” I said, taking a step back. Linking our fingers together, I pulled her along with me.

  My loft was the one thing that didn’t directly involve Jade, which gave me great joy. It had taken me years to build enough wealth on the Mortal Plane to acquire it. Located on the twelfth floor of a renovated, former industrial building, it boasted sand-colored hardwood floors, white walls, and exposed beam coffered ceilings. In the absence of neighbors in front, no curtains covered the large French windows. Not a single painting or image decorated my walls but various sculptures rested against them or sat on a few wooden shelves. Dark wood couches with plush, khaki cushions surrounded a coffee table in the same style and all faced a massive, stone fireplace. The windows of the gourmet kitchen gave a breathtaking view of the bay.

  The awed look on Jade’s face made me feel warm inside. She absent-mindedly caressed the exposed, light-brown bricks of the left wall with her fingertips, her gaze lingering on the door past the breakfast nook. She glanced around the loft at the other three doors at the back of the living room.

  Eager to show her my studio, I led her by the hand to the room past the kitchen. Jade’s eyes widened, and her lips parted in awe as we stepped inside. She took a few steps towards the left corner of the room where a work table and multiple shelves displayed a vast array of painting paraphernalia, from pencils to brushes, acrylics to oils, watercolors to inks, and everything else in between. Her eyes lingered on a stack of sketchbooks.

  “They’re empty,” I said, guessing the reason behind the sudden spark of curiosity in her eyes.

  She pursed her lips in the most adorable pout and looked to the right corner of the room where I kept stacks of canvases of various sizes, some bought pre-made; the canvas boards I had created myself, placed on a separate pile. Her gaze roamed past them to a series of sketches stuck on the wall before trailing to the series of free-standing display panels aligned in four rows of three in front of them. A painting hung on both faces of the panels, but as they stood sideways to us, she stepped forward to have a look at them.

  “My Demonica series,” I said, suddenly nervous about her reaction. “This is intended as my next exhibition. No one else has seen it, not even my agent.”

  Jade’s sharp intake of breath when she gazed upon the first one told me I had succeeded. She chewed her bottom lip, her eyes drinking in the image of the massive, dark-grey demon with his head thrown back in ecstasy and his groin pressing into the rear of a beautiful, mostly naked human female, her lips parted in the throes of passion. The next painting had the same couple, this time with the woman sitting on a throne of skulls, her legs spread wide, one of them resting over the arm of the throne. With one hand, she fondled her left breast beneath her torn bustier and with the other, she gripped the right horn of the demon who knelt before her, his face buried between her thighs. The third picture, far tamer than the previous two, displayed the fully naked woman asleep, sitting on the demon’s lap, cradled in his arm, one of his bat wings partially sheltering her as he gazed lovingly upon her peaceful face.

  “Wow,” Jade whispered. “This is incredible.”

  She walked to the other side of the first row of panels to look at the paintings on the back. This second set presented a new couple in three different scenes, always two passionate encounters and one tender moment. With each painting, the scent of Jade’s arousal grew steadily, driving me insane with desire. Her reaction when she reached the fifth set with the succubus and human male couple almost undid me. Of all her nightly fantasies—which had inspired every one of these paintings—Jade incarnating a succubus had been among her most intense and frequently recurring dreams. Although in the previous paintings I’d chosen models that didn’t resemble her, in this one, I’d deliberately picked a fiery redhead.

  My paintings affected her so deeply because they were a physical replica of her deepest and darkest fantasies, the passionate wet dreams that burrowed deep into her subconscious as dreams faded with the morning light.

  By the time she finished examining the twenty-fourth and last painting in the series, the scent of her arousal permeated the room. Cheeks flushed, eyes smoldering, her body thrummed with unfulfilled sexual energy. It took all my willpower not to drag her to my bedroom and ravish her. The crushing waves of her need made it all the more difficult. I couldn’t read her mind, but her emotions and desires flashed through mine like a collage. Right this instant, she wanted me to lift her up, slam her back against the wall, and fuck her senseless.

  How I wanted to…

  But while she would give in to it, maybe even welcome it in the moment, it would break things between us, or majorly set us back, once she regained her senses. She wanted to be properly courted and desired for more than the use of her wondrous body.

  “I simply have no words. I think this is your best collection yet. You’re going to blow them away.”

  I smiled, my chest bursting with pride. In truth, I didn’t give a shit what the public thought beyond the fact that it gave me the means to court her on the Mortal Plane and would allow me to give her the comfortable life she deserved should Jade choose to remain in this realm rather than cross the Veil with me.

  “I’m thrilled you like them,” I said, cupping her face between my hands, “because I want to add six more pieces featuring you.”

  “Six?” she asked, her eyes widening in surprise
. “But all the other couples are only three.”

  “You will be the centerpiece,” I said before capturing her mouth in a hungry kiss.

  Lips parting to welcome my invading tongue, she immediately responded, her delicate hands gripping my waist. Unaware she was even doing it, Jade broadcast flashing images of me ripping the clothes off her back, tossing her down onto the varnished wooden floor and taking her with savage abandon.

  Breaking the kiss that had fanned the inferno raging in my loins, instead of appeasing it, my thumbs gently caressed her cheeks.

  “My beautiful Jade,” I whispered.

  She shuddered, her eyes—that had been staring at my lips—widened and flicked up to mine, a sliver of worry burning within. I knew exactly what thoughts crossed her mind; was it Kazan, the human painter she’d been falling for or the Mistwalker controlling him? I held her gaze, leaving her to wonder at her unspoken question. Over the next three weeks, before the rise of the next Mist, I would be planting more and more such hints until she could no longer deny the truth she instinctively knew but deliberately hid from.

  “Come,” I said, leading her towards the working area. “I can’t wait to start painting you.”

  The slight trembling of her hand revealed the extent of her nerves and excitation, both of which echoed mine. I’d already set up the props for our first scene. Her gaze lingered on the three cameras set on tripods aimed at the dark-red Roman bed with beige, intricately patterned legs and cushions of matching color, golden tassels at each corner. It had no backrest but slightly recurved on one end. Before it stood a small stepping stool with the same beige cushion on top, which could also serve as a low bench. Off to the side, next to a black and white folding screen, I’d laid out on a table four different diaphanous, babydoll and thong sets; black, blue, white, and red.

  “I would like you to try each of these on and then we’ll pose you and take some pictures to choose the best outfit and angle.”

  She nodded, but I didn’t miss her apprehensive look towards the cameras. I didn’t sense any mistrust from her towards me, but her worry totally made sense. In this digital day and age, one never knew where pictures—especially suggestive or compromising ones—could end up, even more so when taken by strangers or someone you barely knew.