Paranormal After Dark: 20 Paranormal Tales of Demons, Shifters, Werewolves, Vampires, Fae, Witches, Magics, Ghosts and More

by Rebecca Hamilton

  “What other choices do we have?”

  “I’m not sure,” Gabriel chimed in. “We can continue the investigation regardless of Belial’s assistance, but we still do not have a description of the angel and it will be that much harder to find him.”

  “How do the odds look that we’ll find him without the demon’s help?”

  “Slim.”

  I sighed. “I figured as much. What if I negotiate the terms?”

  “That may help. See if you can get him to reach a ceasefire. If he gives his word, he’s bound by demonic law to uphold it.”

  I arched an eyebrow. “Isn’t demonic law an oxymoron?”

  “Somewhat. The conditions that allow the demons to walk the Earth are contingent upon their cooperation with a certain set of rules. I’ll explain it to you later. The natives are getting restless downstairs so you’d better get moving.”

  “Alright. I’m sorry, Michael. I don’t like this any more than you do.”

  “I doubt that,” he said with a bitter tone. “But do the best you can.”

  “I will. See you outside in a minute.” I hung up, turning around only to yelp in surprise when I noticed Belial standing less than a foot away. He was buttoning a hunter-green shirt, a black tie looped around his neck. Weird. I’d figured he would want to take a shower after a vicious cage match, but maybe he liked the grunge.

  “What is the verdict, my pet?”

  I brushed past the nickname. “Give me your word that you won’t try to harm anyone other than the rogue angel and that you won’t interfere with the investigation in any way, and we have a deal.”

  He clucked his tongue. “Take all the fun out of life, why don’t you.”

  “Take it or leave it, demon.”

  Belial bowed his head. “I give my word as one of the Fallen Princes of Hell that I agree to these terms.”

  “Whoopee. Now when can we meet the Puppeteer?”

  “I will contact you when we’ve arranged a time and place.”

  “Contact how?”

  His smile widened and yet another shudder crawled up my spine. “That has yet to be determined.”

  “Could you be more suspicious?”

  “For you, perhaps. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to make an appearance downstairs…”

  He reached out. I flinched, but he only touched the doorknob, amused by my behavior. “…and you have to get back to your little angel brigade, sweet Jordan.”

  “Stop calling me that.”

  He chuckled, pulling the door open. “As you wish, my pet.”

  I suppressed an annoyed groan and followed him out of the office. Gabriel had been right. I could feel the heavy gazes of the other demons as we walked through the stadium and back through the club area. Some of them licked their lips and made catcalls, inviting me to let them have a taste.

  A leggy blonde intercepted the two of us before we got to the front door, placing one hand on her hip and making her bright green dress inch even higher up her white thighs.

  “Who’s your friend?” she purred at the archdemon, though her brown eyes were fixed on me.

  “She is my guest,” Belial replied, watching her with a cool but wary look.

  “Guest, huh? Are you telling me you’re not going to share? I’m sure there’s plenty to go around. We’re generous people, Beli,” the woman simpered, but the hunger in her eyes didn’t match her innocent tone. I knew she’d kill me and eat me if given even the slightest chance. After all, demons drew power from sin and death.

  She reached out to touch my hair, but Belial caught her wrist with inhuman speed. He kept his voice level, though I could tell he was running out of patience. “But I am not. Stand down or I will make you.”

  Annoyance crossed the heavy makeup on her face, but she snatched her arm back and stepped aside, harrumphing like a six-year-old who had been told she couldn’t have another cookie.

  I wondered if I should thank him, as silly as it sounded, but then he lifted my arm by the sleeve and kissed the cuff right above my hand, smiling that poisonous smile once more.

  “Until the next time.”

  I tugged my hand loose and walked down the stairs, breathing a sigh of relief once I had reached outside. I’d been right in comparing myself to a lamb in the lion’s den. Either way, I was sure as hell not about to dirty my fluffy little tail by going in there ever again.

  No pun intended.

  Okay, maybe a little.

  * * *

  “AUNTIE JORDAN?”

  “Yeah, squirt?”

  “How come you haven’t had a wedding yet?”

  I stopped in mid-lick of my ice cream cone and looked at the seven-year-old perched on a stool next to me. Lily’s black hair had been pulled up into two pigtails on the top of her head with bright green barrettes—the way she liked it. Her mother liked it better without them. She thought it made her look like a bunny rabbit. I gave the kid a break when I could. After all, it was her hair.

  “Why d’you ask?” I countered, arching an eyebrow.

  Lily licked her mint-pistachio ice cream, her brown eyes staring up at me with an earnest light in them. “‘Cause I wanna be a flower girl. My friends say it’s fun.”

  “Hmm, you have a point there.”

  “Well, I guess I’m just not ready yet.”

  “How come?”

  I squirmed in my seat. “I forgot how many questions you ask.”

  “‘M sorry. Mama says that too.”

  I pinched one of her cheeks. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way. You should always ask questions. It’s what makes you smart.”

  “Do smart people answer questions?”

  That made me roll my eyes. “Anything to wear a little pink dress, huh, kid?”

  Lily beamed at me then. “So…when?”

  “Soon. You have my word.”

  “Yes! It’s gonna be so much fun!”

  “Mm-hmm. Now finish your ice cream. Your Mom gets off work soon.”

  Fortunately, Lily’s elementary school was only a few blocks from the restaurant. Almost every Tuesday and Thursday, I’d pick her up and get her a snack while her mom worked. Things were still rough with her father—Drake Gibson, CPA and douchebag extraordinaire—who took her on weekends, but the girl was too young to really let it upset her just yet. I prayed it stayed that way for as long as it could.

  The wind kicked up as I opened the door, automatically reaching down for the child’s hand. She took it willingly. The afternoon rush of Albany had already begun so the air was cluttered with the sound of honking horns, tennis shoes and high heels on concrete, and music seeping out from cracked car windows. Chaotic. Noisy. Home.

  Still, even with the comfortable feel of the city around me, I didn’t let my guard down. Without turning, I knew how many people were walking behind me and how tall they were. I knew how many cameras were pointed into the streets at the corners. I knew the height and weight of the cop standing beside the hot dog vendor across the street. I knew how many of the shuffling masses were demons. The information simply faded into my consciousness—there when necessary, but not prominent. It wasn’t just for Lily’s sake. The last two years had taught me caution. Constance vigilance. It wasn’t paranoia. Or so I hoped.

  We crossed two streets, closing in on the restaurant, when I noticed that someone was following us. Instantly, my heart rate spiked and I tugged Lily a little closer to my side. I let my eyes slide to the windows alongside us so I could see him. Five-foot-eight, blonde hair, five o’clock shadow. No demonic energy. Maybe a pick-pocket?

  He started to catch up to us. The restaurant was still a block away. How could I fend him off while keeping Lily safe?

  “Hey, squirt, you mind if we stop to use the bathroom in here?” We stopped in front of a comic book shop, one where I knew the owner and he’d let me go in without asking questions. She nodded and I opened the door, ushering her towards the back of the store. There were a few teenagers perusing the shelves. None of them looked parti
cularly scary. I’d have to fight the guy on my own instead of playing the helpless victim card.

  I reached for the doorknob only to find it locked. Shit. He was almost on me. I pushed Lily behind me and whirled, grabbing him by the thumb and twisting it just as he laid a hand on my shoulder.

  “Ow! What the hell are you doing?”

  “Why are you following us?” I demanded, my glare ice cold.

  He stuck his other hand out, waving something under my nose.

  “You left your wallet in the ice cream shop.”

  I immediately let go of him and felt a cold wash of relief spill over me. “Oh. Jesus, I’m so sorry.”

  He stumbled backwards, rubbing his finger after handing it to me. “Forget it.”

  The man turned his back on me, muttering, “Freak” before he exited. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I deserved that. I’d gotten paranoid.

  “Auntie Jordan? What’s wrong?” Lily asked, tugging at my duster.

  I shook my head, tucking my wallet in my pocket. “Nothing, squirt. C’mon.”

  “I thought you had to go to the bathroom.”

  “I can hold it. Let’s go.”

  We reached the restaurant in no time at all, though I had to stop to take the barrettes out of her hair before we went inside—our little secret, I told her—and she raced towards her mother as soon as she spotted her. Lauren dropped her waitress apron and scooped the girl up, grinning like a Cheshire cat. I smiled at the scene. They were a perfect pair. Mother and daughter. No one could take that away from them. Not while I still drew breath.

  Lauren pulled her purse over her left shoulder, settling Lily against her hip as she walked towards me. “Where’d you two go this time?”

  I shrugged one shoulder. “Nowhere special. We just—”

  “Auntie Jordan kicked some guy’s butt!” Lily exclaimed.

  I froze. Lauren glanced at her daughter, her smile fading somewhat.

  “She did what?”

  “This blond guy at the comic shop. It was so cool!”

  Lauren turned towards me with a question in her eyes. I kept wearing the smile to hide the panic starting to grip me.

  “It wasn’t like that. She misunderstood what happened.”

  “Oh. I see.” No, she didn’t. She gave me a ‘We’ll talk about this later’ look and led the way out of the restaurant, asking Lily about school as we went. I tried not to drag my feet. Lauren was going to give me the third degree and I knew it.

  A couple of hours later, Lily was taking her afternoon nap and I sat across from her mother on her balcony overlooking the street. Lemonade sweated in a glass on the table. Lauren sipped hers, then put it on a coaster. Folded her arms. Stared.

  “So what happened?”

  I sighed. “It’s not what you think.”

  “You don’t know what I think.”

  “We came out of the ice cream shop and there was a guy following us. I thought he was a pickpocket. Turns out I left my wallet at the shop and he was giving it back to me.”

  “So you kicked his ass?”

  “I didn’t kick his ass!” I protested, knowing how childish it sounded and not caring.

  “I just…disabled him.”

  She lifted an eyebrow. “That’s politically correct.”

  “Twisted his thumb. Paralyzes the arm for a few seconds. No biggie.”

  Lauren shook her head. “You know, you once joked that you were Spider-Man. These days, I’m starting to believe it.”

  “Oh, come on. Clearly I’m Batman.”

  She glared at me. “Not funny. You’re not telling me something.”

  “What do I have to hide, Lauren? Seriously?”

  “I don’t know. I can just feel it. Ever since Michael, things have been different and I feel like there’s this wall between us that you won’t let me climb.”

  Her heavy gaze made me want to wince. Lauren was laid-back, but there was a fierce intelligence under the charm. Of everyone I knew, she was the hardest to lie to—not only because she was my best friend, but because she was just too damn smart.

  “There’s no wall. You know me. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

  She took another sip of her drink, continuing as if I hadn’t said anything. “I was serving a couple of regulars the other day and overheard them talking about you. They said something about a rumor. They see you around town asking questions about missing people. Some of them think you’re nuts.”

  I licked my lips, trying to buy time. She had me there. “I’ve been working at a few homeless shelters with Gabriel. A lot of people from there go missing all the time. I check up on them when I can.”

  “That makes sense, but you’re still lying.”

  I opened my mouth to protest, but she cut me off. “You don’t have to tell me now, but if we’re gonna continue being friends, I’d like you to be honest with me. I’m not a child. You don’t have to protect me like you protect Lily. Remember that.”

  Before I could answer, Lauren stood up and pointed to the den.

  “Now come on. The new Castle’s on the DVR.”

  Chapter 6

  Jordan

  “THE MASTER WILL see you now.”

  A Japanese girl in a blood-red kimono smiled as she pulled open a huge ivory door. I walked inside and she closed it, leaving me in a white room with a few steps that led up to a black bed. At first, I thought the only things in the room were me and the bed, but then something stirred.

  Belial lay on his back, propped up by his elbows, nearly blending in with the color scheme on account of his attire: an open black button-up shirt and matching slacks. He wore the most maddening smirk as I walked up the short steps to where he lounged.

  I crossed my arms beneath my chest. “An Asian chick in a kimono? Really? That’s stereotypical even for you.”

  Belial made a scornful noise in the back of his throat. “You have no sense of style, Seer.”

  “Sue me. Would it have killed you to pick up a phone?”

  “I never did like those things. They’re too impersonal. I like to add my own touch to messages when I have the opportunity.”

  I suppressed a deep sigh, knowing that he would keep up this routine for the entirety of the dream sequence despite my lack of interest. “Fine. What’s the message?”

  “The Puppeteer has agreed to see you. I will meet you at the Door in three days.”

  “You realize that I’m not going by myself, right?”

  “Naturally. It will be just like old times.”

  “Peachy. Now, if you don’t mind, answer something for me.”

  “Anything.”

  “Why can you contact me through my dreams? I thought that Michael’s energy protected me from nightmares.”

  Belial slid off of the bed in one smooth motion, stepping towards me until his shadow fell across my upper body. I tensed, praying he didn’t notice. “It is true that I have a few tricks up my sleeve, but the most accurate reason is that you do not find my presence all that…”

  He paused, searching for the right word. “…unpleasant. Thus, I am allowed access to your mind.”

  He took hold of my wrist and lifted it to his mouth. A fluttering sensation skittered through my stomach when Belial pressed his lips against the palm of my left hand, those alien eyes locked on my distressed expression.

  “Stop that,” I said, though it came out as an unsteady mumble rather than a command.

  He let out a small chuckle, dragging my fingertips across his lips. “Why? Your lover knows nothing of this dream. Will you resist me even here, where there are no consequences for your actions?”

  I shook my head, taking a deep breath to ground myself. “I’ve been in this life long enough to know that there are consequences for everything, especially things done in the dark.”

  He licked a quick line over my wrist. “How noble of you.”

  Before I could say anything else, he yanked on my arm and spun me around towards the bed. I toppled over onto the imp
ossibly soft mattress and silken sheets, my chest heaving with panic as he leaned across my helpless form with a combination of lust and hunger in his eyes. I shoved my hands against his shoulders, trying to keep him away, but he drifted closer, his hot breath curling along my mouth as I chanted hoarsely, “Wake up, wake up, wake up!”

  His lips closed over mine—searing hot and enticingly soft, his tongue brushing my own, his teeth tugging at my lower lip enough to make me gasp. His large hand drifted below my shirt and began to stroke my stomach as if trying to coax me to let him in. His hair swept on either side of my face, making me feel even more trapped than I already was. My strength meant nothing here. He had me drawn and quartered, ready to be eaten, and the demon would have his fill.

  “Jordan?”

  The dream vanished. I found myself staring up at my husband, safe and sound in my own bedroom. Thank God.

  He sat beside me, his brow wrinkling with concern at the way I frowned. “Hey, are you okay?”

  I didn’t answer him. Not with words, anyway. I gripped the collar of his shirt and pulled him to me. I kissed him, lips parted, tongue slipping inside his mouth, pressing as much of my upper body against him as I could. His scent—AXE cologne and his own natural smell—filled my nostrils and erased the cold feeling that Belial’s touch had instilled. He seemed shocked at first, but eventually he wrapped his arms around my back and let me inside. I rubbed the side of his jaw, clean-shaven since it was morning, and let my fingers slip to the nape of his neck, playing with the tiny hairs there. Finally, I broke away.

  Michael stared at me, breathing heavily, a question on his lips but a need in his eyes. “Not that I’m complaining, but what was that for?”

  “We meet the Puppeteer in three days.”

  Then I slid out of bed, walked into the bathroom, and took a shower.

  * * *

  GABRIEL’S LONG FINGERS were careful as they reached inside the box of Triscuits—selecting the perfect square to be sacrificed to a glob of olive dip and his mouth. He sat beside me at the kitchen table, calm and appropriate as always. Michael hovered nearby with his arms crossed over his chest sending suspicious looks between the two of us. Cold water dripped from the ends of my hair onto the towel around my shoulders, making me shiver every few seconds as the cloth dampened.