Darkness Becomes Her

by Jaime Rush

  He’d changed into the jersey pants that molded his ass so nicely, and the white T-shirt that was tight on his chest but hung loose over his stomach. They faced each other, standing in the center of the room like two gunslingers with their hands at their sides.

  She closed her eyes and willed it. Fear dried her mouth, parched her throat.

  Nothing happened. She opened her eyes, staring right into Lachlan’s. “I can’t seem to do it without a trigger.”

  He rushed her, pushing her until her back pressed against the wall. His hands pinned hers up by her head. “When I broke into your apartment and we fought, you Became. Go back to that time. Fight me.”

  She played the video in her mind, him waiting for her, grabbing her and pinning her like this. She remembered that part well enough. That’s when she’d felt his erection and was scared to death he was there to rape her.

  Her mouth twisted into a smile. “It’s not going to work. I’m not scared of you anymore.”

  He huffed a breath and stepped back. “Put yourself back in the moment. Feel what you felt then. When your mind experiences an event in the past, or even something imagined, your body responds as though it’s happening now.”

  “Yeah, but the problem is, what I’m feeling as you’re pinning me there is not fear because I know you now.” And I want you now. No need to complicate things by saying it aloud. The truth was, she’d been intrigued by him even before she knew him. She remembered watching the video, eyes focused on his body, on the way they interacted.

  “How about imagining Russell, then?” he said.

  She closed her eyes again and remembered that night at the carnival, watching him slash at Magnus. Forcing her to make that terrible choice to heal him.

  She felt the energy moving, shifting. She felt fear of it, too, but pushed past it. And she focused on becoming a tiger, like the cat she’d felt at the salon. More vicious than a wolf. Bigger fangs, sharper claws. Russell had done this to her, made her infect Magnus, made her Become on purpose. Bastard. He had killed her mother and taken her father’s body. Son of a bitch. She could kill him.

  The roar rose in her throat, like a bubble of air. She flexed her fingers, imagining claws extending out. She would kill him.

  What if she killed Lachlan instead? The energy vanished. He stood there with wide eyes.

  “Did I change at all?”

  “Before you became a blur. This time you had more shape. Paws. I definitely saw claws extending from your hands.”

  “Did it look anything like a tiger?”

  He rubbed his chin. “Aye, a bit. Do it again.”

  “I’m afraid to hurt you.”

  “You weren’t afraid of me when I was wielding my sword.”

  She raised her eyebrow and gave him a naughty look. “Well, I couldn’t actually see you wielding your sword. We were back-to-back, after all.”

  For a moment he looked puzzled, and then he got it and barked a laugh. “Cheeky girl. I’m talking about the time you had your hands on my sword.”

  Oh, just the thought of that swiped the smile from her face. “Mm, that time. Well, we both have something that could kill the other. We need to be afraid or at least wary.”

  “Wary, aye. I can handle myself, as can you.”

  She warmed under his confidence. Then something occurred to her. “If we kill Russell, we’ll kill my dad’s body, the only chance he has of coming back. We can’t hurt him physically.” She glanced at the swords hanging on the wall. Yes, hope was a double-edged sword.

  “Well, that’s going to make defeating him a bit difficult, don’t you think?”

  She paced, biting the end of her fingernail. “What will happen if I can free my dad’s soul? Will he go back to his body or be like Olaf? Either way, it’s better than where he is now. I have to free him. How do I do that?”

  “I wish I had an answer. Other than to use Darkness, if you can while you’re in the Void.”

  “I don’t know. I couldn’t feel it there, that heaviness that’s always inside me.” She paused in front of him. “You’re right, I do need to control Darkness.”

  He cupped his hand behind his ear. “Wait a minute. I was right? Did I hear that correctly?”

  She smirked. “Yes.”

  “Could I be right about not going back to that wretched place as well?”

  “Not at all.” She brought up the anger at Russell again, walking, wringing her hands. She could feel Darkness growing in her. Like before, when she’d thrown Lachlan across the room, everything blurred. Tiger. Through the blur, she saw Lachlan standing in front of her. Mine.

  The possessive thought threw her right out again.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  “It’s hard to focus.” Not mine. Not when she had this inside her, not now that she knew what had driven Russell to kill. She took a deep breath. “Okay. Russell. Bastard.”

  She used the memory of her father in the wall to dredge up everything she felt for the man who put him there. The dark blur enveloped her body, as slippery as oil to hold onto.

  “Let me try something else.” She held out her hands, palms up, and imagined breaking off pieces of herself. Tried so hard her head hurt.

  The black fog swirled in her palms. She pushed harder. Yes, they were forming into round balls. Russell could direct his dogs. He’d used them to track her, probably. They were part of his Darkness. She could do it, too.

  With sheer force of will, she directed them to a place on the far wall. They shivered and trembled, their fog tightening into form.

  Yes! Go splat.

  They both launched off her hands . . . and fell to the floor, where they splintered apart. She let out a sigh of frustration. “Russell’s had a lot longer to work on this stuff. He probably did it in his cell during lights out. And he’s Callorian, and the one who tapped directly into Darkness. I inherited a weaker version of it.”

  Lachlan was still staring at the floor where they’d hit. He finally looked at her. “But you did it. Which means you can learn to master it.”

  At least someone was excited about it. And he hadn’t rubbed it in that she’d also had plenty of time to work with it. Instead, she’d taught herself karate and kept in shape to be defensive. Now she had to go on the offensive.

  She closed her eyes, held out her hands and concentrated.

  Two grueling hours later she was lobbing black blobs toward Lachlan, who was hitting them baseball style with his sword. They splintered on contact, much weaker than Russell’s dogs, who could withstand the hit.

  She dropped down to the shiny wood floor, too tired to even care how hard it was. “I’m exhausted. Not the kind I feel after working on karate moves for two hours.”

  “Using supernatural abilities wipes you out in ways beyond physical exertion. I was always shattered after astral projection.” He loomed above her, his hand stretched down. “One more hour. Then we’ll break for a meal and rest.”

  “One more hour?”

  “Sixty little minutes.”

  She merely looked at him, not moving a muscle.

  His mouth quirked. “You’re giving me the same look you had when you sent me that lovely gesture with your finger.”

  “That’s ’cause I’m too tired to make the gesture. But don’t doubt for a second that I’m sending it.”

  “You’re not going back until I’m sure you can protect yourself.” He tilted his head at an angle. “You don’t look very tough at the moment.”

  “I can’t move. I mean, I really can’t move. My body is a blob of jelly.”

  He knelt down, scooped her up and flung her over his shoulder. Then he walked to the door.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  “To bed.”

  Her body perked up at that. “Really?”

  “You can have a little rest, eat, and then we’re back at it.”

  Rest. Of course. “Thank you.”

  He walked across the courtyard to the room she was staying in, opened the door
, and set her gently down on the bed. “I’ll get you in an hour.”

  Which meant he wasn’t joining her. Just as well, all things considered. Maybe she’d scared him a bit, seeing her Become. Maybe it disgusted him or freaked him out, though he didn’t look either of those things.

  He tucked her in, as he’d done one other time. She felt like a girl, Daddy tucking her in. He made her feel safe, loved, or at least cared about. She grabbed for his hand as he started to back away.

  “My name is Ally Jackson. Short for Allyssa.”

  He stopped, his expression softening.

  “I met Jessie at the second foster home. She was a foster kid, too. Remember Mattie Stepanek, the boy in the wheelchair who was on television a lot? He wrote those beautiful poetry books about love and peace? Jessie had the same fatal form of muscular dystrophy.”

  It hurt to think of her, so pretty, with glossy blond hair and blue eyes the color of a deep mountain lake. “Jessie had been with the Marshes for most of her life. She was already in a wheelchair when I got there. She, more than anyone, taught me that no matter what, you can find joy in life. It was a great lesson for me. I was scared, angry, closed. She was the only person I ever opened up to, though not completely. I told her about my dad killing my mom, and I hated lying like that. But if she ever heard the news story or found it online, it would be my dad who went to prison, so I kept it simple.”

  He just listened, without any judgment, arms at his sides.

  She scrunched the blanket in her hands. “She and I were born on the same day and year. We looked nothing alike, but we told people we were twins. When she died two years later, I was devastated.

  “Soon after that, I was waiting to give Mrs. Marsh my report card when I saw Jessie’s folder buried under a bunch of other stuff in her office. Mom Marsh had to run to find the ringing phone, and I opened the folder. Copies of Jessie’s Social Security card and birth and death certificate were in there. I took the folder and put it in my school backpack.”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know why I did it. Maybe to keep her close. Or maybe I knew I would take her identity someday. I’m sure Mrs. Marsh was supposed to file something with the government, but right afterward, her husband got into a car accident. His injuries made life even more hectic. She probably forgot all about the folder.

  “I continued on through school and graduated. I knew Russell would be released someday, and I figured I’d be safe if he couldn’t find me through my name. And it was like resurrecting my old friend. Jessie lived! But yeah, I felt wrong doing it, too. The first time I got a paycheck and my new driver’s license, I worried. Nothing happened, no one knocked on my door, and eventually I relaxed.” She looked at him. He’d stood the whole time she was talking, no expression on his face. “Am I a horrible person?”

  “No.” He reached down and brushed the back of his hand against her cheek.

  He wouldn’t judge her. He’d done worse things, in his opinion. Like him, she judged herself more harshly than anyone ever would.

  He stepped back. “Get some sleep, Jessie. I want to see your cat. All of it.”

  Chapter 17

  “Olaf!” Jessie called, standing in front of Lachlan in the living room.

  Nothing.

  “What if he was sucked into the Light? I haven’t seen him since I came back.” Panic tightened her throat. She needed him. They’d spent another hour in the studio working on the blobs, and she’d very nearly gotten a splat out of them. She hadn’t produced her cat, though.

  “Olaf,” Lachlan said.

  Olaf’s image shimmered into place. “Ye called?”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “I did, but you didn’t come.”

  “Canna hear ye, lass. Only the laddie, here. Missed me, did ye?”

  She smiled. “Yes. Terribly.” That smile faded. “I want you to take me back to the Void. I need to get my dad out of there.”

  He listened with what appeared to be sympathy, but at those last words said, “I dinna want to go back there.”

  “My daddy’s soul is there. I’ve been an orphan since I was ten, and now I have a chance to get my dad back. I can’t leave him there, Olaf.” She told him what she’d seen, how the wall was swallowing him. “I have to save him. I’ll pay your price.”

  She wasn’t above bribing. She pulled off her shirt and closed the few feet between her and Lachlan. She yanked his shirt over his head, slapped her hands against his back and pulled him against her. On her tiptoes, her mouth connected with his.

  “You are killing me,” Lachlan managed to say.

  She plunged her tongue into his mouth, raking her nails down his back, and felt his body respond. His hands had started bracing her face but now moved back through her hair. She kissed down his chin, his throat, holding onto his hips for balance. Her tongue flicked against his skin, leaving behind a trail of chill bumps. He let out a soft moan, both agony and pleasure as she moved down to trace circles around his hard nipple. She didn’t know men’s nipples hardened when they were aroused. There was so much she didn’t know about men and their bodies. She sucked softly. She’d never done this before either.

  All around him was Olaf’s ghostly image, but she was tasting, licking, Lachlan. It was all him, breathing in huffs, fingers kneading in her hair. She moved across his chest to his other nipple, doing the same. Then she moved lower, down the ridges of his stomach.

  “No, you’re really killing me,” he said on a tight breath.

  She’d hooked her fingers on the waistband of his jeans in front. She had the most delirious urge to unbutton, unzip, taste him. That hard ridge went right up to the top of the waistband.

  “Now ye’ve got it, lassie!”

  Olaf. She jerked upright, blinking to bring herself back and trying to catch her breath. “There.” She pulled on her shirt. “Was that sufficient?”

  Lachlan made a choking sound, but she tried to keep her focus on Olaf, who wore a ghostly grin. “I wasna going to ask you for that again. Ye won me over with the sob story about your dad. Still, I enjoyed it verra much.”

  She smoothed down her hair, feeling all the blood leave her face before rushing back. “Oh.” Cleared her throat. “Well, then. Thank you for helping.”

  Had she been a bit . . . too eager? Now that Lachlan had woken up her body, she craved sensual pleasure. Craved him.

  “Did you come?” she whispered.

  “No, I won’t be going off like a teenager again. I’ve got it under control, no thanks to you. Are you trying to drive me nuts?”

  “Just paying the price.”

  She sat on the sofa, the leather cool beneath her. Lachlan still looked flushed and peeved as he sat down in front of her.

  “If you didn’t come, why was there semen at the tip?”

  He raised his eyebrow. “It’s charming, really, this mix of sensuality and naiveté.”

  “No, it’s not.” She didn’t want to come off as naive. “I’m curious, that’s all.”

  “Are we ready?” Olaf said. “Before the sad story wears off and I change my mind.”

  She reached out and clasped Lachlan’s hands. The weird energy flowed through her, like last time, and then she was floating in nothingness, the Void a dark specter above them. Olaf handed her the rope, and she wound it through her fingers and faced the opening.

  “Daddy, I’m coming.” She whispered it, then shouted it.

  Even knowing what to expect, it was no less disgusting and scary when she slid into the folds. How fast was the thing swallowing her father? Would only the tip of his nose be showing now? He’d said time was different here, but she wasn’t sure whether it would work for or against her. She was midway in, trying to remember how she’d gone last time, when she heard a woman’s voice.

  “Ally! Is that you, baby?”

  She knew that voice. It wound around her heart the same way the rope twined around her fingers. “Mom?”

  “Thank God you’re here. I thought I felt you before, but I couldn�
��t believe it. But it’s true.”

  The hope in her voice sailed through Jessie, too. “I’m coming.”

  “Follow my voice. I can’t wait to see you. You’re probably all grown up now.”

  Jessie slid through the cracks, timing the breaths. Her fingers tightened on the rope. She wouldn’t drop it this time.

  She stepped into a small chamber like the one that held her father. “Mom.” A word filled with pain and love. The same nausea hit her as she took in the horror of that wall. She rushed forward. “How are you here?” Calista was in the same state, not much of her beautiful face showing, not a strand of the long dark hair Jessie remembered. She touched her mom’s fingers, feeling again like that little girl who never got enough of her mommy’s love.

  “I came when your father’s soul did, after I died.”

  “That was you calling to me the last time I came here, wasn’t it?”

  A moment of silence passed. “I forget I can’t nod anymore. Yes. I could feel you there, just barely hear your voice. How have you come to be here?”

  She told her briefly about Olaf and held up the golden rope. “This is my way out. I came back to free Daddy. I’ll free you, too.” She tugged on the rope to bring it to her mother’s fingers.

  Hope flared in Calista’s eyes for a second. “But I have no body to go back to.”

  Jessie gasped in frustration. “I didn’t think about that.”

  “But there is a way.”

  “How?” She gripped the rope as hope surged.

  “Do you trust me, baby? Do you trust your mommy?”

  She nodded.

  “I know you think Russell has been hunting you for revenge.”

  Her heart plunged. “Yes, he’s been hunting me. He killed my dog. He hurt my friends.”