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

by Rebecca Hamilton

  I felt powerful and out of control.

  Collin remained by my side as I lay sprawled on the floor. I tried to lift my head, but my disorientation caused it to come crashing down with a painful thud.

  “You have done well, Alyssa,” he said cheerfully. “Try not to move yet. It might take a few moments for you to regain control.”

  He lifted my arms and slipped something silky down my skin. Chancing another painful head slam, I moved to see what he was doing.

  He slipped my arm through one sleeve of the robe; gently pulling me up, he grabbed my other arm.

  How the hell did I lose my robe?

  My head slowly cleared as Collin helped me fix my robe and hair again.

  When I was finally able to get up, he guided me beyond the main common room to a den behind the kitchen. Kallisto had created a private throne room there; she sat at the end of the room upon a very tall, cushy, white chair. Edmond stood just behind her, his left arm resting at the top of the high-backed chair.

  Collin presented me and bowed low to Kallisto, motioning for me to do the same. I lowered my head and my eyes, looking at the floor.

  “Alyssa. Please come join me, my dear.”

  I obeyed and walked to Kallisto’s fancy chair.

  “How do you like my coven?” she asked.

  “It is…nice, Kallisto.”

  “From now on, you will address me as mistress.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay, what?”

  “M-is-tress.” Wow, really? She wants me to call her mistress now?

  “My coven is just nice, is it? It doesn’t sound to me like you really appreciate all that I can offer you. Perhaps I don’t need to keep you around, then.”

  Play nice. Lay it on thick. “Oh, no, mistress, it is beyond words. I’m just tongue tied. It is so…wonderful here.” I hope she’s buying this.

  I could tell by the scowling look on her face that she wasn’t impressed. I wasn’t sure I was capable of blocking my mind well enough to keep her out of my true thoughts.

  “I think I must impress upon you the gravity of this situation. We do not tolerate bastards. You’re being given a special opportunity.” She waved a hand at her guard, and a moment later, three people came into the room. I recognized one immediately. Jessie! She appeared to have been beaten quite terribly. Her eyes were puffy and splatters of blood covered her clothes. She wasn’t standing on her own. She hung limply from the arms of her escort, barely conscious. The other two people, a pair of blond women who must have been twins, dropped her onto the ground at Kallisto’s feet.

  “This little one here is a bastard.” Kallisto sneered and pointed a perfectly manicured red nail at Jessie. “She was not born of this coven. She was given the chance to join us, as you were, but she did not prove herself worthy. Be warned, Alyssa, my tolerance is very thin.”

  “You said I could join you,” Jessie gurgled, crawling to Kallisto’s feet, “if I did what you asked. I brought her to you.”

  Jessie’s pleas fell on deaf ears. Kallisto kicked hard, knocking Jessie backward onto the floor.

  “Take her back to his house and drop her on the doorstep,” Kallisto commanded.

  “No!” Jessie screamed. “I did what you asked. Please, no!”

  “If you had done what I had asked, you would have brought them both here. Now, go, and don’t forget to tell Lysander where his precious little Alyssa is. We will be waiting for him and his little band of misfits.”

  With another wave of Kallisto’s hand, the two women picked up Jessie, turned, and carried her out of the room. Jessie’s cries echoed through the penthouse as they left.

  “You see, it’s best to stay in my good graces.” Her voice softened. “Now, you’re almost done with your initiation, my child.” Kallisto’s words sent chills down my spine. “I only have one request of you, and I will grant you pardon from your maker’s crime. Then you can become a full member of my coven.”

  She stared into my eyes. I felt her peering into my soul as she spoke to me. I tried to remain calm, clearing my mind. I knew Kallisto could read whatever I was thinking, even if I tried to block her out. I had to keep my mind clear. Still, I wondered what else she had in store for me and for Lysander.

  “What is your request, Kallisto—I mean, Mistress?” I asked timidly.

  “When Lysander comes to claim you with his little band of wanderers, we will destroy them. I want your help with this. Do I have your allegiance?”

  My heart sank as I imagined watching Lysander and the others being put to death.

  I hoped Jessie’s message would not get to them and they would assume I was dead. I couldn’t bear the thought of seeing any of them die.

  Kallisto wasn’t happy with my lack of response. An angry scowl wrinkled her perfect mouth. She didn’t tolerate insubordination.

  “You will do this, Alyssa, or you will die. I have no use for you otherwise, and it will mean nothing to destroy you. Do not take my generosity lightly. I offer you life or death. You decide.”

  Kallisto’s face told me she would require an answer soon or she would kill me herself.

  “Why?”

  An evil, toothy grin crossed Kallisto’s face. She looked like a madwoman.

  “Lysander will suffer for his sins against me. What better way to suffer than to have the things you love stolen away from you and turned against you? What better insult than to be destroyed by the thing you create? There is no victory for me in simply destroying him like a dog. He needs to suffer as he dies, and he will—as you will be the one to kill him.”

  I couldn’t speak. A tear streamed down my face as Kallisto cackled madly.

  I can’t kill Lysander. I won’t!

  Kallisto knew this and was punishing us both, enjoying the mental anguish I was going through.

  She waved me off, sending me out of her sight. “Your test will come. Perhaps you need time to think on what you will do. Remember, Alyssa, life or death.”

  Collin escorted me back down the long hallway, opening up a door just after the bath. This was a closet-sized room in comparison to the other rooms in the house. There was a simple, twin-sized bed and a table with a lamp. A small, square window offered a view outside.

  “You will sleep here today,” Collin told me as he pushed me inside. “I will be back to get you in the evening.” He quickly locked the door behind me.

  Chapter 21

  A SLIVER OF pink edged the horizon. My eyes were wide as I stared out of the small window.

  Dawn was approaching.

  A wave of fear struck me. There were no coverings on this window. There was no place to hide in this tiny closet of a room. The sun would be up soon. I had not yet experienced sunlight on my newly immortal skin, but I’d been well warned that burns would occur rather quickly.

  How long can I stand to be in direct light? Can I cover myself with sheets? How badly am I going to burn? This is some cruel joke. Kallisto must have planned this. She’s probably sitting right outside of this door, waiting to hear my screams.

  Just as the thoughts entered my mind, a buzzing noise sounded in the room and shutters descended slowly from the ceiling.

  I breathed a sigh of relief as they covered the window, completely blocking out the early rays of morning light. The only light left in the room was the fluorescent glow of the bedside lamp.

  My clothes had been left in a pile on the floor. I changed out of my robe before collapsing on the bed.

  The tiny room that was my prison did indeed remind me of a cell. No pictures, no fancy furnishings like the rest of the penthouse; just the bed, nightstand, and lamp. I cursed myself for being so stupid.

  I shouldn’t be here. Intuition told me something was wrong with Jessie, but I blindly followed her as she led me straight into the hands of Kallisto. I wonder if Jessie delivered her message.

  I knew Lysander would be horrified to know what happened, and I had no doubts Jessie would be destroyed after her message was delivered.

&
nbsp; Would Lysander do it himself? Would he rip her limb from limb, or bleed her dry? Would the Peregrinus try to stop him?

  I bit my lip, hoping the pain might help hold back the emotions threatening to explode within me; anger, fear, sadness, and regret all came rushing to the surface.

  How long will Kallisto keep me here? There has to be some way to escape. I can’t—I won’t—harm Lysander. She has to know this.

  I remembered the look of agony in Lysander’s eyes when he told me I didn’t need to know the details of what had happened to his other children.

  Was this how it happened to them? Will he come and try to rescue me?

  I heard footsteps and the sounds of others outside of my door. Members of the coven must have been making their way to their rooms for the morning’s sleep. Had I not been so trusting, I too would be sleeping now, but in the comfort of Lysander’s bed.

  Tears welled in my eyes, spilling over and streaming down my face. I thought of Lysander holding me. He promised me he would not lose me. He should have been the one to go hunt with me. He should have known better. Why hadn’t he been able to sense that Jessie could not be trusted?

  I shoved my face into the pillow to stifle the sounds of my sobs. I wished I was home with him and the rest of the clan.

  In my heart, I knew he would not leave me here. Kallisto knew this, too. She was counting on it. That was the only reason I was being kept alive. She had no other need of me. Kallisto knew Lysander would come, and then, she would take her revenge.

  If he didn’t come, Kallisto would have me destroyed anyway. Her generosity was no more than a trap for us both.

  Bloodstained tears soaked the pillow. Mentally, I said my goodbyes to Rozaline and Nicholas, Crystal and Drew, and Damon. If the Peregrinus kept to the plan, everyone should be gone soon, leaving town at dusk. I prayed Lysander would be with them, and that Kallisto’s rage and my death would be quick.

  * * *

  IT WAS SOME time before I ran out of tears. Pulling my head from the pillow, I saw the ugly brownish stains the tears had left behind. I wiped off my face, sniffling and trying to compose myself.

  I can’t just sit here crying. I need to find a way out of this place.

  A faint whispering outside my door caught my attention. Someone was talking, but I couldn’t quite make out what was being said.

  Slowly, I crept out of bed, got dressed, and made my way over to the door. I cursed softly as my shoes squeaked against the polished marble floor. I cringed, thinking the sound might have given away my sneaky intentions, but the mumbling continued. Kneeling on the ground, I placed my ear against the door.

  “…confirmed that the rumors are true,” a man’s voice whispered in a thick French accent.

  I leaned as close to the door as I could, hoping to hear the speaker better.

  A woman’s voice spoke this time. “Is everything in order for our departure?” I recognized the unusually accented voice of Kallisto.

  “Of course, Mistress. We shall depart as soon as you’re ready.”

  “Excellent. I will leave before midday.”

  “What of the rest of the coven?”

  “Leave them.” Kallisto’s words were cold as ice.

  “But, mistress,” the man protested. “They are your children.”

  “And if the Saints come and find this penthouse empty, they will continue to hunt us down. Do you want that?”

  “No, mistress. I…”

  Of course. With all the activity this evening, I had forgotten about the Saints. I should have expected she would know of them. If Nicholas could gather that information from a television newscast, surely the coven would have the same information and know they were in town.

  “The others will sacrifice themselves,” Kallisto said. “You will bring only my guard.”

  “Mistress, could we not spare a few more?”

  “We can make more,” Kallisto snapped. “If you’re so concerned, Edmond, stay with them, and you can all greet the Saints together.”

  “I didn’t mean to—”

  “I tire of your attempts to go against my will, Edmond. I am the ruler of this coven, and you will do well to remember your place.”

  I could only imagine the angry expression that must have been on Kallisto’s face. By the sound of it, Edmond was quickly losing favor with her.

  “Mistress,” he pleaded. “I only suggest what is best for the cov—”

  “Enough,” she snapped. “I’ve tolerated enough of your insubordination.” Kallisto’s voice rose sharply. “You have not yet been forgiven for failing to bring Lysander here yourself.”

  Panic laced Edmond’s words. “Mistress, I... He is much stronger than… I was… being diplomatic… I warned him of his crimes… ”

  “You’re pathetic and weak, Edmond. I should have you replaced.”

  She really is a piece of work. I snickered. I could imagine the bowing and scraping that Edmond would be doing.

  “Mistress, I am sorry, I only thought—”

  “You should have brought him to me as I ordered. This business about thirty nights was a ridiculous waste of my time. If you couldn’t bring him in yourself, you should have had someone else do it. Did you not see how easily I brought in his pet? Now Lysander will be forced to come to us.”

  “Mistress, I promise, I will not disappoint you again.”

  “From now on, you will follow my orders to the letter. Remember, you’re nothing without me. Is this clear?”

  “Yes, my Mistress.” Edmond’s voice was a low whisper. “Please accept my most sincere apologies.”

  “You had better not fail me. You’re fast becoming useless. I can easily have you replaced.”

  “I will have the car set up immediately for your departure.”

  “Good.”

  “If I may ask one more question?” His voice trailed away, muffled by the echo of his footsteps. “What shall I do about the girl?”

  I pressed my ear harder to the door, trying to make out the words as they walked further away, but it was no use. The penthouse was silent again.

  It’s now or never. I have to get out of here.

  I reached up to the knob of the door, turning it slightly.

  Damn, it’s locked.

  I reared back and thrust my shoulder into the door with as much strength as I could muster. A loud thud sounded as I collided with the door, but it didn’t budge.

  Ouc! Damn, that hurts!

  Pain radiated through my shoulder.

  So much for brute force. Guess I’m not as strong as I thought. What the hell is this door made of, some kind of reinforced wood?

  Pressing my ear to the door again, I listened for any signs of the coven. The penthouse was still quiet.

  Kallisto probably expected me to try an escape. I’m sure this room is well sealed.

  I made my way back to the bed, collapsing on it and staring up at the blank white ceiling.

  What the hell am I going to do?

  Death was certain if the Saints were coming.

  I remembered what Lysander told me about the Saints. They attacked during the day, since that was when we were weakest. The Saints’ game plan seemed almost too perfect. Horrible burns and blinding light kept us at bay and allowed them to corner us in our homes and cut us down one by one. Those that did manage to escape the daytime slaughter would be followed and hunted down by Santino’s group.

  I imagined what it would be like. Death was imminent. I was trapped and there was no escape. I no longer had the tears left to cry for the impending loss of my life.

  At least, Lysander and the clan would be spared. He wouldn’t come to the coven house with the threat of the Acta Sanctorum out there.

  * * *

  I LAY IN bed, silently awaiting my fate. Occasionally, I heard shuffling past my door, making me think the Saints had arrived. An hour passed, maybe two. I’d lost track of the time as I fell in and out of consciousness. My body wanted rest, but my mind raced with anxiety.


  Keys jingled a moment before my door burst open, slamming into the wall. I shot straight up as a figure entered the room. A blob of black fabric flew through the air, hitting my chest before crumpling to the floor.

  What the hell?

  “Put these on,” a muffled male voice shouted.

  I was momentarily stunned, thinking I was about to die, when I realized the blob at my feet was clothing.

  “Who are you?” I asked, as I cautiously pulled on the thick sweater and hooded jacket that had been tossed to me.

  “No time to talk. Take these, too.” He held out a pair of sunglasses.

  Taking the glasses, I chanced a look at the stranger, but couldn’t see past his black ski mask. It concealed his identity, leaving only his blue-gray eyes visible.

  “What is going on? Who are you?” I asked, reaching out toward the mask.

  He snatched my wrist in a tight, painful grip. I winced in pain, biting my lip to stifle a cry.

  “Don’t touch me,” he barked. “Do as you’re told. Finish getting dressed.”

  He released my hand and I recoiled, falling backward on the bed.

  I quickly finished dressing, and the masked man ushered me out the door.

  “Be quiet and do as you’re told,” he commanded.

  His voice sounded so familiar, but who was he?

  I kept quick pace with my escort, down the long hallway, into the foyer, and out of the front door. We rounded the corner to the elevators.

  I saw the glow before we had reached it. A wall of windows illuminated the waiting area for the elevators. My hands instinctively rose to shield my eyes. The sunglasses seemed to have no effect. Intense, blinding sunlight filled the hallway, stinging my eyes and face as we approached. I pulled my hood over my head as far as it could go, covering my face, and still it wasn’t enough.

  The heat from the light felt like flames licking my skin. My hands throbbed in pain, soaking up the light as I shielded my face.

  I collapsed to the ground, turning my back to the light, my face and hands stinging with pain.

  “Get up,” the harsh male voice ordered.