Nameless: The Darkness Comes

by Mercedes M. Yardley

  “You can’t take his blood as a corpse. He has to be alive. It’s very specific. We have to contain the shadow, and the only way to do that is to take a piece of him, brimming with life, and inject it back into the host body after its death.”

  “You mean siphon his blood while he’s still living, with the shadow inside, and then sit around waiting for Reed Taylor to die?”

  “Yes.”

  “And then inject the shadow back into him?”

  “Yes.”

  “I can’t do it. It’s too horrible.”

  “Reed did this to save you from that thing, and you’re just going to go all helpless when it counts? You can kill the shadow, Luna. Otherwise he’ll just come for you, and what was it all for?”

  Mouth, radiant in his fury. Robes flowing around him like torrential rains, like licks of flame. His eyes blazed fire. I heard the Tiptoe Shadow squalling in the other room, spitting and cursing and feasting on the soul of a beautiful, lonely, green-eyed man who traded himself for me.

  I bent down, picked up a needle.

  “The Tiptoe shadow showed me, Mouth. What will happen to you if I do this.”

  Mouth sighed, looked away. “I had hopes,” he said finally. He reached out for my hand, and this time is was rock solid. “Stay with me while I fade?”

  I took his hand, gripped it hard. “Absolutely.”

  We ran back to Reed Taylor. He was nearly still. I bent beside him, searched for his vein. Thick scar tissue, marks to work around.

  “Reminds me of when we first met,” I whispered to him and withdrew the blood. It wasn’t coming out as fast as I’d hoped.

  The Tiptoe Shadow eyed me. “What, what? What is that, dolly? What do you have there?”

  I hid the needle behind my back like a child. “Nothing.” I peered past him at Reed Taylor, who had stopped moving completely. I bit my tongue to keep myself from sobbing.

  “Not yet,” whispered Mouth. He wrapped his arms around me, and I could actually feel them. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Luna.”

  Me too. It killed me to see Reed Taylor there, dying all alone. It killed me that he was doing this because he loved me. And it killed me to think that soon I’d lose Mouth, too.

  “I don’t think I can do this,” I said, turning to the demon. “I can’t lose both of you. Would it really be so bad if the Tiptoe Shadow stayed?”

  Mouth wiped the tears from my face. “You’re stronger than this. You’d hate yourself for it in the future. And you’d hate me.”

  I shook my head. “I’d never—”

  Suddenly Mouth flung me away. I landed hard on my back, the needle bouncing out of my grip and spinning on the floor. My skull hit the floor with a loud crack.

  I shook my head, trying to clear it, and stared up at Mouth. The Tiptoe Shadow had disengaged from Reed Taylor’s back and was pacing back and forth like a tiger where I had just been standing. I hadn’t even heard him move.

  “You can’t, mmm, defy me. You can’t deny me. Girl. Girl! Toys are meant to be broken.”

  Quick as a snake and just as sinuous, he flowed in my direction. I grabbed the needle and darted away.

  “Uninvited,” I yelled at the top of my lungs.

  The demon laughed. “Abra Cadabra. Open Sesame. Just words.”

  He lunged again, and Mouth stepped in front of him, spitting out phrases I didn’t understand.

  The Tiptoe Shadow snarled. “You can’t deny me. I made you! I, mmm, own you. You are mine.”

  His long arms snapped out, wrapped around Mouth and pulled him close.

  “Break,” the shadow said, and squeezed. I heard Mouth choking, struggling for breath.

  “Leave him alone,” I yelled, but the demon didn’t even look my way.

  “Oh, so good. So tasty, this fear. To, mmm, kill one’s own, it…” He chirped happily.

  There was nothing I could do. I knew it. I wanted to stand and scream until I couldn’t scream anymore. I wanted to pound my fists into the dark blot where the shadow’s face should be. I wanted to break every bone in its formless body for tearing my family apart, for terrorizing Seth and my father and me, for causing Reed Taylor’s death and, I could see, the eternal destruction of Mouth.

  I would kill the shadow.

  Mouth was kicking his feet. I closed my eyes briefly and zipped past them, over to Reed Taylor’s white, white body. His eyes were open and empty. I felt for his pulse, put my cheek to his mouth and felt for breathing. Nothing. He was dead. I dashed at my eyes and searched for his vein.

  “I’m so sorry, baby,” I whispered. I slid the needle into his vein carefully, carefully, even though he would never feel the pinprick. His blood was thick and red and so painfully, heartbreakingly beautiful. It was full of life and heroine and the very black essence of the Tiptoe Shadow swirling inside. Hope through death. Escape for some of us, but not all.

  I injected the small vial of cold blood back into his body, then sat cross-legged and cradled his head in my lap.

  The Tiptoe Shadow made a strangled sound and whirled around, dropping Mouth. “You! What did you do? What did you do?”

  I didn’t answer him. He gasped and railed and roiled, tried running toward me, but fell and landed on his toothpick knees. There was a sound like splintering wood, and he screamed.

  “Dolly,” he squealed, grabbing for me with both long hands. “Puppet.” He scrabbled on the floor, mewing pitifully. I touched my forehead to Reed Taylor’s and cried.

  Mouth sat beside me, barely substantial. He looked exhausted. I slid my hand into his. It went right through.

  “So this is goodbye,” I said. The wailing, groaning sounds of the shattering Shadow Man sounded behind me. He wasn’t worth turning around for.

  “So it is.” Mouth looked at Reed Taylor’s body, sorrow in his eyes. “He was a good guy, Luna. I’m sorry I gave him such a hard time. I was just—”

  “I know.”

  We sat there, side by side, listening to the death throes of the shadow. I stroked Reed Taylor’s bloodied hair with one hand.

  “I wish things could have been different,” I told the demon. He was completely translucent now, a mere breath of fog.

  “Different how?”

  A scuffle behind us. A gurgle.

  “I don’t know. Just different. Anything but this.”

  Silence, and then he said, “You’re brave, you know.”

  I snorted. “Me, brave? Do you even see me right now? Did you see me bolting away from everything in this house of horrors?”

  His voice was fading, becoming softer. “I saw you do what you needed to do. I saw you stand up to something terrifying. I saw you ready to kill yourself because you thought it would save us.”

  Tears came to my eyes again. “And instead you and Reed Taylor—”

  He shrugged. I caught a faint shine like crystal out of the corner of my eye, but that was it. He was nearly gone.

  “I’d do it again in a heartbeat, Luna. I’d do anything for you.”

  I reached for his face. I couldn’t feel a thing.

  “I know. Thank you so much, Mouth.”

  There was silence behind us. No sounds, no struggles.

  The demon grinned, his teeth flashing. “My name used to be Dorian, you know. I haven’t thought of it in ages.”

  “Dorian,” I repeated. A tear ran down my face, and I smiled back. “I won’t forget it.”

  He leaned forward and kissed me on my cheek. I closed my eyes and felt nothing but a brief moment of sweetness. When I opened my eyes again, he was gone.

  I doubled over and sobbed into Reed Taylor’s shirt. I was still crying when the police arrived. They gently pried me away from that spot of death, wrapped a blanket around me, and led me away.

  Epilogue

  I wish I could say I had imagined everything. For once I wished that I was crazy, but that isn’t how life ends up. I’ll tell you how it ends up: it finishes out in its own fine way.

  After Seth bailed out of the House of Ho
rrors, he headed straight for the police department. Half of what he said didn’t make sense, but they managed to piece together something about the mother of his child being totally strung out and unresponsive, and his daughter was missing, and demons were frickin’ everywhere.

  “Demons everywhere” is usually code for “Holy crap, everybody has gone nuts in that crack house” so they loaded up their gear and came. They made Seth wait outside while they entered and found me sobbing over Cecilia’s boyfriend, who had overdosed on heroine. Poor little me, I was absolutely traumatized by seeing death so up close and personal, they thought. They carted Reed Taylor off and took Sparkles away in an ambulance. Then they turned their attention to Seth and me. Good, hardworking siblings. Going to counseling, trying everything in our power to get Lydia back. We were stable. The courts would still keep an eye on us, but Lydia was brought home, where she belonged.

  Seth and I couldn’t get enough of her. We fought over who she got to sleep with until we finally calmed down enough to let her out of our sight. She, of course, ate the attention up with a spoon. Every morning I woke up to “Mama Luna!” and hugs, kisses, and giggles. Even after everything, she’s happy. She’s safe. She has her daddy who adores her more than life and her Mama Luna who will kick any foe in the face.

  But the boys…their loss destroyed me. I’d hold Lydia and cry, thinking about how much I missed their constant bickering and one-upmanship. I missed having Reed Taylor’s heart and Mouth’s sarcastic but fierce support. Knowing they had died because of me…well, that was more than I could take.

  The demons had backed off considerably, giving me extra space since I had proven I could take down one of the baddies and his entire line. I see them peeking at me from behind shrubbery or from the sewer grates, but they hardly ever cross my path anymore. They never call me by name. I’m surprised to find out how lonely that makes me.

  I went to Reed Taylor’s funeral. I went to Sparkle’s court date. Lydia and I go to Mommy and Me ballet. I don’t have to tell you what a disaster that is, but she loves it, and she loves to see her Mama Luna twirl. “Arabesque” has become a dirty word to me.

  One evening I dropped a flower on my mother’s grave, another on my father’s, and slid the third behind my ear.

  “Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad. Just wanted to let you know things are going well with us. I know how you worry. Seth says hi, and Lydia drew you a picture. It looks like, I don’t know, a tornado or a cow or something. I can’t really tell.”

  “Maybe she should stick to dancing.”

  I froze. That voice.

  “Ah, Luna. Still ignoring me, I see. Some things never change.”

  I whirled around. Mouth—Dorian—stood there, hands in his pockets. Pockets. Actual pants, and a shirt, and no flowing robes at all. He wasn’t dark. He was created out of light instead.

  My hand flew to my mouth.

  His smile was crooked. “Hi.”

  He held out his arms and I dazedly walked into them. They were solid. Solid as the earth. I ran my hands over his shoulders. His face. His hair. He was real.

  “How can this be?” I asked. “I don’t understand.”

  He looked uncomfortable. “I’m not alive, exactly. I mean, uh…”He looked at me shyly. “I’m demon patrol.”

  Silence. Then I couldn’t take it anymore. “You’re an angel?”

  He cringed. “Don’t put it like that. That’s not exactly right. I mean, it is, but…ugh. I’m still not used to playing for the other team, okay?”

  I gawked. “But how?”

  He sighed. “It’s ‘cuz I gave up immortality for you. Not only that, but it was in order to pull a major demon off of the Earth. Kinda got extra bonus points for that, if you know what I mean.”

  “But I can see you.”

  “Oh, that.” Mouth-Dorian waved his hand casually. “That has something to do with you and I being connected to the same demon right before we died, and then taking him out. They explained it, but I kinda got bored and didn’t listen much.” He leaned forward conspiratorially. “They make you go to angel school. It’s really mind-numbing.”

  I hugged him. “I’ve missed you so much.”

  He hugged me back.

  “I’m glad. I know it’s been hard without Reed. ”

  I sighed. “It’s been awful, but it isn’t any more than I deserve. Besides, some people were born to be alone, you know?”

  He gave me a strange look. It made me nervous.

  “What?”

  “Maybe, but you’re not one of them. Now listen, Luna. Something big is going down, and it’s been going down for a long time. Remember when Demon Patrol disappeared?”

  “You know why?”

  “Yeah. Tiptoe Shadow was the tip of the iceberg. He was almost a non-entity compared to what we’re dealing with now.”

  “There’s something more?”

  He looked grave. “So much more. And I’m kinda in a jam about it, you see. As you know, I was a demon of some authority. Now I’m going after members of my old kind.”

  I nodded. “I get the predicament.”

  He looked at me slyly, and his eyes glittered. It was the old Mouth again. “So I say to myself, hey, I need some backup, right? I need somebody who I can hash things out with, who not only understands me, but is familiar with the demonic. And I say to myself…”

  “Why not hit up the ol’ Demon Girl, my Luna?”

  I felt the grin spread across my face. It felt delightfully wicked and free. Finally, something I understood. Carnage. Justice maybe tipped with a little revenge. Something to fill my mind so I’m not dreaming of haunting gorgeous greens at night.

  He shrugged. “Two outcasts should stick together, is all I’m saying. You up for it?”

  “You know it.”

  “Good.” He took the flower from my hair and held it up to the moon, like he had so long ago. It was a splash of bright color in a dark world. “So tell me how Lydia talked you into ballet. You’re terrible. I have to turn away about half the time.”

  I flicked his ear, hard. “Hey, watch it. I killed you once and I’m not afraid to do it again.”

  He laughed, and I started talking, telling him about Seth’s law school and how I found a super sweet deal for parts on my motorcycle. I told him I start every day by burying my nose in Lydia’s sweet-smelling hair. Her pigtails, they still wave like banners.

  HELLO, MY DARLINGS!

  I’m so pleased and honored that you took the time to read my very first full-length novel! I love Luna, Seth, Mouth, and Reed Taylor so much, and it was a pleasure to introduce you to their world, as crazy and diabolical as it is.

  Luna’s tough, but even the strongest of us break under the weight of our experiences. Now that she’s on Team Demon Patrol, what else is going to happen to her? Will she find acceptance? Will she stitch together her broken heart? Or will she find solace in the darkness?

  I’ve received quite a few opinions as to what should happen in the next two books, and I’m curious to know what you think. As an author, I love to hear ideas and suggestions. It jumpstarts my brain and gets the literary machine going. Writing is an interactive process for me, so if you have any feedback (good, bad, or downright demonic), I’d love to hear it! You can contact me at BoneAngelTrilogy@gmail.com and visit me on my blog at www.abrokenlaptop.com.

  If you don’t mind, I’d so love it if you would post a review of my book at sites like Amazon and Goodreads. Letting the author—and other readers—know whether or not you enjoy their book is one of the most important things you, as a reader, can do. Reviews are vital. They help new books get written. Your opinion counts!

  If you enjoyed Nameless: The Darkness Comes, please take a look at my other work.

  Thank you so much for taking this journey with me. Let’s see what happens to our Bone Trilogy friends in the future, yes?

  All my love,

  Mercedes

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  MERCEDES M. YARDLEY (@mercedesmy) wears red lipstick
and poisonous flowers in her hair. Nameless: The Darkness Comes, book one of The Bone Angel Trilogy, is her second work for Ragnarok Publications, the first being the 2013 Stabby Award-winning, Apocalyptic Montessa and Nuclear Lulu: A Tale of Atomic Love. Mercedes has been published in several diverse anthologies and magazines, ranging from John Skipp’s horror anthologies, the I Will Survive book with Gloria Gaynor, and Neverland’s Library by Neverland Books. She has also worked as a contributing editor for Shock Totem Magazine and currently lives in Sin City. Her short story collection, Beautiful Sorrows, came out in 2012.

  Visit Ragnarok Publications Online | www.ragnarokpub.com | @RagnarokPub