The Mistwalker (Dark Tales Book 2)

by Regine Abel

  My cheeks burned. People would have considered me twisted for all the fantasies I’d entertained at that time. Although I’d been regularly dating guys, I remained a virgin until twenty-one, giving it up to Patrick. Sure, I’d had some heavy petting before that with previous boyfriends, and I’d even given a few blow jobs, but at the time, I’d been seeking my true release in my dreams. While I never remembered the details in the morning, they’d been vivid enough for me to know I’d been naughty in my dreams with something less than human.

  Stealing a look up at Kazan, the tenderness in his eyes turned me inside out.

  “No, Jade. Patrick didn’t claim your virginity; I did. For years, I was your only lover. We learned together. Those nights I brought you here during the last Mist, your head tried to deny us, but your body knew me, recognized us and the rightness of our mating.”

  Oh God! He is reading my mind.

  Kazan smiled.

  I shook my head in disbelief. Technically, Patrick had popped my cherry, but this explained why we’d both found me unusually skilled on our first night together. If not for my virginal blood on the sheets, he wouldn’t have believed he’d been my first, not that it had been as meaningful for him as it had been for me. Despite the sadness breaking me up inside, it pleased me to know that Kazan claimed first night, even if it had taken place in an illusionary world.

  “When you turned eighteen, you began having nightmares about all the things that could go wrong if you went ahead and left your uncle’s house and demanded custody of your baby sister. I chased them away and took you to happier places, helping you build your courage so that you could follow your dreams.”

  I stared at him, speechless. It had been a scary time and yet, I’d felt invincible taking on that challenge. Could a figment of my imagination have built up my confidence in my dreams?

  “A year later, nine years ago, your people tore the fabric of the Veil, opening a portal between our worlds. Your aura shone like the brightest beacon, calling me. I raced through the closest portal and straight to you. But you were already locked away,” Kazan said, his face taking on a faraway expression. “For three days, I hounded your dreams, begging you to come out into the Mist, to come to me. You refused, saying you couldn’t leave your sister. I knew then that if we were ever to be together, I would have to come into your world.”

  I shuddered, feeling the sudden need to pull away from him. Rising to my feet, I took a few steps forward, but my tiny bedroom didn’t offer much room to move about. The room faded, and we found ourselves back in the ring surrounded by a wall of Mist.

  “So what did you do?” I asked, in an accusatory tone. I waved at him, also standing. “Did you steal that poor man’s body so that you could get to me?”

  “What?” Kazan asked, a disbelieving expression on his face. “I didn’t steal anything. This is your wish,” he said, indicating his body with a wave of his hands. “You’ve given me many appearances over the years, but after you began having your alien warrior fantasies, this is the one you always returned to.”

  The dark shirt and pants he’d been wearing vanished as he stood stark naked before me. I hugged myself, swallowing painfully despite my dry throat.

  “This is what you wanted. A giant, with bulging muscles, an angel’s face, and a huge cock.” Kazan spread his arms wide. “I am as you wished me.”

  The perfect warrior as dreamed up by a horny teenager who wouldn’t think of the inconveniences such a body could represent for a man in the real world. It hadn’t mattered because he hadn’t been real.

  I shook my head, frowning. “It’s not possible. My Kazan, the man I’ve been sleeping with, who has been painting me, driving me to work, and taking me out is real. You’re… you’re…”

  “I AM real,” Kazan shouted, slapping his chest with both palms. “In both planes, I. AM. REAL.”

  Tears pricked my eyes again. Of course my perfect man would only be an illusion.

  “I’ve seen what happens to Mistwalkers when the Mist goes away. You turn to ash!” I said, angrily wiping tears from my face. “So how are you my Kazan?”

  He ran his fingers through his hair, fisting them at the back of his head.

  “The human vessel is excruciating to bring into existence. It requires tremendous energy and, without a direct link to our creator, it is difficult to remain anchored. At the end of the first Mist nine years ago, I spent every minute of every day hunting Mistbeasts, Nightmares, and your Wish sparks, absorbing their energy to build my reserves, hoping that the Veil would tear again to allow me through to your realm. And then it did.”

  My eyes widened. “You hunted my other Wishes?”

  Kazan stared back at me, unflinching. “Yes, Wishes and Nightmares alike. I assimilated the good ones to remain your greatest Wish, and fed off of the others.”

  I swallowed hard, not knowing how to feel about this and unnerved by the predatory glint in Kazan’s eyes.

  The scene changed around us and turned into an alley, surrounded by buildings in advanced states of disrepair and clearly unfit for habitation.

  “This is where I came to take my human form, away from humans and Mist creatures alike. It took me the first day of the Mist to find this place and almost all of the second day to take my human form.” Kazan looked down at himself, frowning, then back up at me. “The human vessel is so fragile and confining. I spent the next day learning to deal with gravity, finding clothes to protect my vessel from the cold, and shoes to shield my feet from pain and injuries.”

  “But where did you sleep? What did you eat?” I asked, coming to realize how alien it must have been to him.

  “I moved to populated areas once the Mist lifted. It was difficult since the Mist is to us like oxygen is to humans. But I adjusted to the vessel and begged for food and money.”

  The scene shifted again, showing an old shed.

  “Knowing I wouldn’t last very long, I searched for a safe place to put my money and what clothes or other items I’d managed to acquire. I feared that when my human vessel died, that I would also turn to ash, but the human mind is a natural doorway through the Veil. My vessel went to sleep, and I entered the Mist where I remained while rebuilding twice as much energy.”

  I pressed a hand to my chest, my mind reeling as I realized the lengths he had gone to reach me.

  “But… What happened to your body?” I asked.

  “It died,” Kazan said with a shrug. “Homeless people die all the time on the street, living under such terrible conditions. No one would question finding the corpse of another nameless one. For that reason, I took on a different appearance each time. Finding the same dead man every other month would have raised too much suspicion. But with my growing wealth of items and money, it got easier each month. It took me three years, but I eventually raised enough to get some IDs made for myself. From that point on, I officially became Kazan Dale, the sketch artist making people’s portraits in the park, at the fair, or any other public places I’d be allowed to.”

  “Until you got noticed and grew famous,” I completed. “But why did you keep disappearing for lengthy periods if you could come back every month?”

  “One month of hunting in my realm only gave me enough energy to remain for about one week in the Mortal Plane since building the body drained half of my reserves. Each additional month I hunted gave me an extra week in your world. So I would hunt for four to six months, sometimes even longer, so that I could stay for significantly more time. It also simplified things for me, as I couldn’t allow Kazan Dale to die. Discarding his vessel without alerting people required far more effort and ingenuity.”

  Feeling dizzy, I looked around for a place to sit. Sensing my need, Kazan shifted our surroundings into Keating Park where he and I often strolled or sat by the pond, talking or sketching. I let myself drop onto the bench, raised my bare feet up, and hugged my knees to my chest. Instead of taking a seat next to me, Kazan willed a shirt and shorts back onto his naked body then kneeled on the
grass in front of me before sitting back on his haunches. An early afternoon sun shone down on him, reflecting on the dark waves of his hair, and giving his stunning face an angelic quality.

  A terrible thought crossed my mind.

  “What have you done with your current body?” I asked.

  Kazan smiled. “Don’t worry, my Jade. My vessel is safe. I can keep him in stasis for a few days, like I have done with your body.”

  My shoulders sagged with relief. Despite the conflicting emotions coursing through me, I didn’t want anything bad to happen to him, whatever the outcome.

  “So you’ve been building up to this for the past nine years?” I asked.

  He hesitated for a moment. Stupidly, that stung.

  “For most of it, yes. By the time I’d been established enough to want to approach you in your world, you’d met Patrick. I kept hoping in vain that it would end. The closer you grew to him, the less you dreamt of me.” Upon saying those words, Kazan rubbed his chest as if his heart ached. “For months, I called to you in your dreams without answer. And then, one day you let me in only to say farewell, because you and Patrick were talking of marriage. It nearly broke me, but I wished you well and let you go.”

  That hurt even more.

  “You just let me go? You didn’t fight for me?”

  It was stupid to let that upset me, but it did. Patrick hadn’t fought for us, too eager to return to his ex. My aunts and uncle who looked after us hadn’t fought to keep me either when I first talked about leaving. None of my previous boyfriends or simply friends made any extra effort to keep our relationships going when life caused us to see less and less of each other. Was I not worth fighting for?

  “I wanted to,” Kazan said, clasping his hands on his lap, his knuckles quickly whitening. “In truth, I wanted to kill him for touching what was mine, for taking you from me. For usurping my place by your side…”

  His eyes flicked up to mine, hurt and anger burning within. Instead of frightening me, it soothed my sense of rejection.

  “Why didn’t you?” I whispered.

  “Because he made you happy. The sole purpose of my existence has been ensuring your happiness, and you’d found it with him. Interfering for my own selfish needs would have jeopardized that.”

  “That’s when your agent said you were taking an indefinite break,” I said, as understanding dawned on me.

  Kazan nodded slowly. “I returned to the Mist, and went into some kind of hibernation, waiting for the day when you would need me again, or the day your mortal lifespan ended, to offer you to join me for a second life in the Mist.”

  My eyes pricked again, and my chest tightened. “You would have waited a lifetime for me?”

  “Of course,” Kazan said, as if it was obvious. “As long as your light shines, I will be there to help ensure your happiness by any means necessary.” His face took on an embarrassed expression. “I’m sorry it took so long for me to realize you were miserable. After Patrick left, your sorrow took a while to reach me through my stasis. It also took time for me to rebuild my strength, a new vessel, and start the collection. I could only make four paintings per month before I had to return to the Mist for five months to rebuild my strength.”

  My jaw dropped. “Three years…” I whispered. “You’ve been preparing this collection for the past three years since Patrick left me.”

  Kazan smiled. “Each painting represents one of your fantasies we experienced together. I finished the last painting two months ago. I had planned on spending five months gorging myself with energy so that I could approach you, at long last, in your world like I did at the supermarket last month. Your sister leaving the window open changed everything.”

  “How?” I asked, blown away by those revelations. “The part of you that went inside me?”

  “Yes. It anchored me to you, allowing me to feed from your emotions. A day by your side is the equivalent of a month of hunting.” His eyes smoldered as they roamed over me. I instinctively tightened my arms around my legs still pressed to my chest. “I can feed from your emotions both here and in the Mortal Plane. Those three nights of the last Mist, your pleasure gave me more than enough energy to create a new vessel. My impatience almost ruined everything, though. I was too weak and had to leech from your emotions not to be forced back to the Mist. I should have gorged a bit more before coming to you, but I couldn’t wait anymore.”

  More conflicted than ever, I got up and walked up to the railing surrounding the small pond in the garden. From the corner of my eyes, I watched Kazan rise to his feet and approach me. He stopped behind me, the heat of his body seeping through the cotton nightgown I still wore—or rather the dream version of it. With great care, Kazan wrapped his arms around me, as if fearing I would balk, then pressed his chest against my back.

  Tears pricked my eyes again as I relaxed against him. How many times had we stood exactly like that in this very location on the Mortal Plane in the past month? My life had been so perfect then.

  “Why the sadness?” he asked again, confusion in his voice. He turned me around to face him. “There are no more obstacles between us. We can be together forever.” His eyes flicked between mine, searching. “You wished me. You wished us. Am I no longer what you want?”

  “Oh Kazan,” I said, tears falling down my cheeks again as my heart broke for him and for us. “You are so perfect, beyond perfect. I always thought you were too good to be true, but now…”

  “I AM true,” he said forcefully. “Your wish may have been my spark of life, but I have thrived, I have grown. I am real in both our worlds!”

  I nodded and gazed at his beautiful face through blurred vision. Cupping his face in my hands, I let my palm caress a path down his cheeks, his thick neck and broad shoulders before resting on his muscular chest. Kazan closed his eyes under my touch, the expression on his face a mixture of pleasure and despair. He could feel my emotions just like I could feel his, and mine were telling him goodbye.

  “Yes, Kazan. You are real in all the ways that matter. And yes, you are perfect, exactly everything I’ve ever wished for in a man, except for one very important thing; you didn’t choose me. You may have become real, but this relationship is not.”

  “How can you say that?” Kazan asked, his face tensing with anger. His arm tightened its hold behind my back while his right hand held my nape firmly, but not painfully. “I love you! I’ve loved you from the moment I achieved self-awareness. I have walked two worlds just to be with you, and I will travel a thousand more if I must. Have I not made you happy in the past month? Have I not shown the depth of my feelings for you?”

  “Yes, you have, but you had no other choice. You’re my Wish. I programmed you to love no one else but me, no matter what.”

  “I’m not a machine,” Kazan snapped, letting go of me as if I’d burnt him.

  But you might as well be.

  I heaved a sigh, trying to figure out how to make him understand. “Love should be freely given, Kazan, not imposed. How can you truly love me when you never chose me?”

  He tilted his head to the side and narrowed his eyes. “The same way mortals love their parents and their siblings. You didn’t choose Laura, did you? Given a chance, would you exchange her for another?”

  Of course not.

  “It’s not the same though. Family…”

  “Love is love,” Kazan interrupted. “A puppy doesn’t choose its master, but that will not stop it from developing a true and lasting love for him, and vice versa.”

  “You’re not an animal,” I said, starting to feel irritated myself.

  “No, but I’m a sentient being, like animals or humans, capable of feelings and emotions. Love can blossom in various ways. There is no rule for how it should come to be. That mine for you came in a non-traditional way doesn’t make it any less true.”

  I pursed my lips, slightly annoyed.

  “Do you like your body?” I asked.

  He blinked, confused by the sudden change of topic.
“It is a very nice body,” he said, looking at himself. “Any man would be proud to have one such as this.”

  “It is nice, but that’s not what I asked you,” I said. “Do you like it?”

  “Yes,” he said, increasingly confused.

  “Really?” I challenged. “You enjoy struggling to find clothes of your liking that will fit you, or having to bend your head in the subway because you’re too tall, and feeling cramped in most cars because they’re not adapted to your height?”

  He flinched, his face taking on a troubled expression. “It’s a mild inconvenience in the Mortal Plane.”

  “One that my wish imposed on you.”

  He shrugged. “So what? Humans don’t get to choose their bodies either. The genetics of their parents decide, and they learn to deal with it.”

  Fair point.

  “Okay, I’ll give you that one. Let’s talk about food then. I bet you and I often had ribs, wings, Sangria and pancakes in our times together while I dreamt, and you loved them. But in my world, you hate them.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest, looking slightly annoyed. “I don’t hate them, but so what if I did? I can eat something else while you continue to enjoy them. The human body’s taste buds ruin many things but elevate others. In time, I’ll just adapt to the way this vessel changes my perceptions and likes, the same way I adjusted to gravity.”

  “And that is exactly my point,” I said, running a nervous hand through my hair. “My world is riddled with physical and biological rules that constrain and define us.” I waved at the illusionary park we stood in. “Here, your size doesn’t matter. You only need to wish for something you like to fit and it will. For all I know, in this world, Sangria tasted like a smoked salmon and cream cheese bagel to you. And that’s just fine. But in my world, you cannot wish unpleasant things to fit in with something more agreeable or palatable. You have to accept them the way they are or move on.”