Shadows in the Mist: A Paranormal Anthology

by Kristine Cayne

  “If it didn’t stink to all heaven,” Cindy muttered, “I’d guess him human. An ogre or a cyclops, perhaps? After the crab, you’d think Blain would be more imaginative.” She positioned herself between him and the men now less than thirty feet from her.

  Marc shared an exasperated look with his cousin. With a silent understanding, Zan advanced toward the menace. Marc stayed by Cindi. Twenty feet and the fight would begin. His military training kicked in and an odd calm took over. Eyes glued on his target, he stood stock still on the trail and waited for the attack. The man, with his gray T-shirt tucked into a pair of grey shorts stretched over his enormous belly, didn’t seem to be in any hurry, indeed, the more he watched, the more perplexed he became at the beings’ leisurely stride.

  A loud giggle from the little girl sounded close behind, drawing Marc’s attention from the impending danger. Shit. Where in the hell did her parents go? He spun around to find the child standing close, her small, elfin face turned up, lips curled back over blunt teeth. She blinked, long lashes framing her black, iris-less eyes.

  Giggling more loudly, her once small voice rocketed into a high-pitched scream. Before he could react, she launched herself with superhuman speed at Cindi.

  Cindi eyed the strange men ambling carefully down the path. If not for the smell, she might have considered them harmless. Zan moved ahead of her, no doubt with the macho intent of blocking her from the potential threat. She considered warning him to back off when a person slammed into her from behind. Little legs wrapped around her waist and tiny hands tore at her shirt. All at once, the smell made sense. A fairy. Her fingers gripped the rubbery, deceptively human-looking arm, which latched onto her ribcage right below where the eye lay hidden. Grunting in pain, Cindi lifted the walking stick and rapped it hard against the creature’s forehead. “Get her off me.”

  “He thinks I’m a child. He ain’t gonna help you, stupid human,” the fairy taunted in Gaelic, her nails poking holes in Cindi’s shirt.

  “Think again,” Marc growled. From the corner of her eye, Cindi saw him loop his arm around the fairy’s neck, his other leveraging against her back in an attempt to pry the creature off. A fierce struggle ensued, one Cindi couldn’t see, but definitely felt.

  “I thought fairies were supposed to be cute and harmless.” Marc jerked the fairy hard enough to nearly knocked Cindi off her feet. The fairy made a squawking sound which turned into a throaty gargle from the pressure against her neck.

  “They’re mean and smelly, but usually more of a nuisance than violent. Clearly this one is the exception.” Sharp little nails bit into her flesh, cutting her off. Warm blood trickled down her belly and she yanked at the fingers while absently noting the men passing by. What she initially thought as being mythical monsters turned out to be two very ordinary—albeit homely—men in need of a good workout. Despite their physical appearance, they quickly left what must be an extremely bizarre scene.

  Marc grunted. “Zan, a little help here?”

  With the threat of the men gone, Zan quickly came to her aid. His hands covered the fairy’s and he used his added strength to pluck the offending digits form Cindi’s person.

  Free at last, Cindi spun around and lifted her walking stick. She pointed the end at the creature Marc still held and jammed the tip into her gut. “Where’s Blain?”

  The fairy narrowed angry eyes and with mock innocence cried out to the retreating men. “Please help. The mean lady is hurting me.”

  “I’ll do more than hurt you, you fey bitch,” Cindi said, putting all of her weight into it. “Blain obviously sent you. If you tell me where he is, I’ll let you go.”

  The fairy snickered and her dark doe eyes shone with mischief and defiance. “Give me the eye and I’ll tell ya.”

  Cindi stared at the fairy in curious consideration. Independent creatures, fairies little trusted anyone or anything outside of their circle. “Since when is a fairy loyal to a god?”

  “He ain’t the only one interested in the eye, missy. Ye have a bounty on your head and I’m meanin’ to collect,” the fairy said, small chin raised.

  “Cindi, what’s happening? What’s she saying?” Zan asked.

  Marc began to translate while Cindi continued to quiz the fairy. “What does a fairy want with money?”

  The fairy sneered. “Ain’t money being promised. It’s magic.”

  “Fairies are made of magic.”

  “Our kind gains our strength from the land. If ye haven’t noticed, ye humans are taken’ it all.” The fairy rolled her eyes in contempt.

  “He promised you land? You realize he’s a demon. He won’t keep his word,” Cindi warned.

  “It told ye, there are others wantin’ the eye.” The fairy began to struggle in Marc’s arms again. “Give it to me and ye’ll be safe. Keep it and ye will die.”

  “Who is it?” Cindi asked, increasing the pressure. The fairy wiggled until the skin of her abdomen started to give. “This is your last chance. Who else wants the eye?”

  The fairy stuck out her green tongue. “Bite me.”

  Cindi rammed the stick through the tough flesh. The fairy cussed loudly, and then her body disintegrated into a heap of ash.

  “What did you kill her for? She never said who else is after us,” Marc said.

  “She’s not dead. And don’t think she won’t seek revenge once she reconstitutes.” She knelt on the ground to open her backpack and withdrew a battered plastic bag. Turning it inside out, she scooped up every bit of dust she could manage before she righted the bag and zipped the top. “Fairy dust is hard to come by and very potent in the right hands. Usually you can only buy it during flaking season.” She shoved the baggie into her pocket.

  Marc extended his hand to assist her. “Flaking season?”

  The warm roughness of his skin made her want to wrap her fingers more tightly around his. “They have horrible dandruff in the summer. Some sell the magic flakes for spells. The flakes are highly useful if you know how to mix them right.”

  Zan burst out laughing. “Fairy dust is dandruff?”

  “Yes.” Smiling, she glanced over at Marc and found his expression tense, his vigilant eyes darting up and around the area surrounding the steepening path. A slash of burnished sun crossed the rock cropping and her amusement faded. “We have to get moving.”

  “This is the most direct route. Should we continue up the path or try another less traveled track?” Zan asked. “I know a couple of good ones. They’re pretty steep though. It’ll slow us down.”

  Cindi looked over at Marc, still aware of their clasped hands. “What do you think?”

  He shrugged. “This is your show. I’m the brawn, remember?”

  His comments made her want to trail her gaze over his body and see the brawn for herself. She kept her focus on his eyes. “No pressure, right?” She forced a smile while anxiety gnawed at her gut. “Knowing Blain, he’ll be waiting for us no matter which way we get to the top.”

  “Mount Vesuvius is a big mountain. There are plenty of places to throw the eye into the crater,” Zan reasoned.

  She shook her head, the knot tightening in her stomach until she thought she might be sick. “We have to throw the eye in a fumarole, a hole in the earth’s surface. It’s the only way to destroy the evil.”

  Marc released her hand and she quickly brushed her disappointment aside.

  “I say we wing it. Following our gut has worked for us so far,” she said, and turning on her heel, she began to climb the mountain.

  Chapter 5

  Marc jogged along the path next to Cindi with Zan bringing up the rear. Although her cheeks were red from exertion, he still thought her beautiful. She must have sensed his stare for she glanced over at him. Their eyes met, and then she looked back up the steepening path. The stench of sulfur hung thick in the air. Less than a half-mile from the top, he glanced about with more focus. He hadn’t spied another person or thing since they’d left the fairy and the absence of life proved more disturbi
ng than the quiet that clung like the cooling mists of the clouds.

  A hand settled on Marc’s shoulder. Instinct made had him spin around, fists ready to strike. Zan raised a finger to his lips, his eyes warning him of upcoming danger.

  Cindi had halted and together they stood on the dim path. A soft scraping sounded before four shadows solidified into men. They looked ordinary enough if one could consider overly muscular, bodybuilder types normal. Marc eyed the bald man closest to him, a knife in his meaty fist. Muscles tense, he gripped the walking stick and prepared to pounce when the opportunity arose.

  “Look at their eyes. They’re mortals, without free will,” Cindi said, voice tight.

  We can’t harm innocents. Maybe we should simply give up. This will all stop if we join Blain.

  Stop fighting and give in to it? Marc rolled the question around in his mind. By giving in, his life might be spared, yet something inside rebelled at playing the coward. “Innocents, my ass. If they had their way, they’d tear your head off.”

  He raised his foot and slammed it into the bald man’s groin. Groaning, the man doubled over and dropped to his knees. Marc raised his stick. The man grabbed it, his foot sweeping out and catching Marc’s. The move brought him onto his back, knocking the wind from him. His attacker loomed, fist raised. Marc twisted his torso and lifted himself at the same instant he brought his elbow into the man’s side. It connected with a painful, yet satisfying thump. He bent his legs and using his knees to hold the man in place, followed the first blow with several more sharp hits, each going progressively higher until he reached his attackers throat. Survival training dictated he land the fatal blow. He settled for breaking his jaw. Cindi was right. His attacker wasn’t in his right mind.

  The injured man fell back, holding his chin. Marc rose to his feet. Zan had taken on two of the men. With his martial arts background, he held his own with apparent ease. Cindi fought a short, stocky man, evading his powerful lunges with impressive speed. Marc swung his stick at the man’s head and the hollow thump reverberated as the stranger dropped to the ground.

  Marc cautiously approached Zan. “Need some help, Cuz?”

  “I got this.” Zan sidestepped a feeble punch. “Get to the top. I’ll catch up.”

  Marc shook his head. “I can’t—”

  Cindi cut him off. “He’s right, we have to go.”

  “If I leave, he could die.”

  “And if you stay, you will die,” she reasoned.

  He wanted to argue further, when Zan yelled, “I’ll be fine. Now get to the top of the mountain you stubborn son of a bitch.”

  “You heard him. Let’s go,” Cindi said, tugging at his hand.

  With one last look at Zan, Marc and Cindi resumed their run. Heavy shadows settled in and he glanced at his watch, something he’d tried to refrain from doing. Fifteen minutes max until the sunset and the moon began to ascend. Would the madness wash over him like a wave?

  Or perhaps not at all? Cindi’s voice floated through his head. Imagine being immortal; to wake up with me next to you every day. Too make love for all eternity.

  Cindi halted, her fingers slipping onto his arm as she leaned in close, her hot breath brushing his neck. His groin tightened with heightened reaction. “There’s a trail over there. I say we take it the rest of the way.”

  He nodded in agreement. She led the way, and his eyes settled on her bottom. The sway of her hips mesmerized him. It had been the first thing he’d noticed about her. She had a great ass. Her ass, along with the rest of her, crouched low.

  Following her lead, they soon breached the brush. In silent understanding, Marc dropped to his elbows next to her and belly crawled across the dirt and rock trail to the edge of the crater. Several geysers spewed gases, the stench even worse than the fairy. The closest crevice appeared almost a mile down.

  Marc continued to scan the area for signs of life. Other than some stunted bushes and patches of tufted grass, the mountaintop appeared eerily empty. Somewhere close by, Blain waited. He was certain of it.

  You can end this. All you have to do is call out. Pledge your allegiance, and he’ll spare you. Men have died for what you have at your fingertips. If you rid me of the eye, I’d be free of the anguish of losing you. We could be together. Do not let me destroy it.

  He turned his head and caught her stare.

  You see me watching you. I want you to kiss me, Marc. I need you.

  His eyes settled on her mouth, her lips wet from where she’d sipped out of the canteen that she’d dragged from her backpack. She offered it to him. Ignoring the water, he dipped his head and brushed his lips across her mouth. She remained still, not protesting nor reacting until he slipped his fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck. Her hands flattened against his chest, mouth opening readily. He kissed her harder, his lips sliding over the slick flesh.

  Take me, devour me.

  He rolled her onto her back and his hips wedged between her denim-clad thighs. His hand moved from her neck over her collarbone, his fingers retreating ever lower.

  That’s right, Marc. Rid me of the eye, and then we can be together. We will be one.

  Cindi closed her eyes, her once exhausted body humming with life. Marc’s lips melded with hers, his demanding kiss coaxing her out of the hell she’d been living in since that morning. At the edge of her awareness, she recognized how vulnerable she was lying on a rutted trail barely covered by sparse grasses and downwind of some powerful geyser gasses. Not to mention the threat of a cunning demon ready to kill her at the first opportunity. If not for her fear for his life and her own, she would be content to stay there forever. Her sense of self-preservation insisted she stop his impromptu seduction but a greater part of her hungered for the connection, if just for a little while longer. What harm will it do? Take a moment of pleasure. The pain of losing him will happen soon enough.

  The hurried beat of his heart beneath her palm surged with life and she refused to think of him being anything other than alive. Splayed fingers sought his warmth through the thin cotton of his shirt. With his groin nestled intimately with hers, she was blatantly aware of how much he desired her. She rubbed herself against him, her body humming at the promise of pleasure.

  He dragged his mouth from hers, his lips trailing down her throat, tongue licking her skin. His large hand pushed up her shirt and his palm glided over her exposed flesh. Sure fingers slid under the band of her bra. She arched her back, waiting with breathless anticipation for the first touch to her naked breast. His knuckles brushed the underside, but he seemed to be in no hurry to explore.

  “I know there’s plenty in there. Did you get lost?” she murmured on a winded laugh.

  He fingered the silk bra cup. “Where is it? Where’s the eye?”

  His words were like a douse of cold water, dampening her desire. Suspicion whispered across her mind and she raised his chin, dreading what she would find. Her hand began to shake at the sight of his glowing eyes, the trace of polished steel giving him a sinister bent. He was possessed.

  You’re too late, disciple of Juno. He belongs to me now. If you want to live, you’ll merge with me. A hard voice echoed across her consciousness. She stifled a shiver of revulsion. Lilith was inside her head.

  Cindi snapped her eyes skyward where the last traces of pink faded into the dark blue.

  “Where is it?” he asked, his fingers winding into the bra’s elastic, making the fabric dig painfully into her back.

  She twisted beneath him. “Marc, let me go.”

  “I will never let you go. You’re mine, Lilith.”

  He called her Lilith. It wasn’t her he desired but the goddess. Strong arms settled around her shoulders and his palm cupped the back of her neck while his mouth clamped around her lips. He crushed her beneath him until she couldn’t breathe. She struggled, lungs burning as she silently pleaded for release. Panic hit, giving her added strength and with herculean effort, she clenched her legs around his. She rolled him onto his back, her
action forcing him to loosen his grip on her neck the slightest bit and allowed her to tear her mouth away. Pushing against him with all of her might, she tried to sit up but arms like bands of steel held her torso in place. She managed to untangle her legs, her knees coming to rest on the rough ground. It was obvious she had no chance in a physical fight. Her weapons were her mind and her magic. Taking in large gulps of air, she shook her head when he tried to kiss her once more.

  Passion-filled eyes fixed on her. “Give me the eye. I can’t let you destroy it. Can’t let you destroy us. I love you.”

  She inhaled a sharp breath at the declaration until she reminded herself he intended the sentiment for Lilith, not her. The knowledge sparked an unanticipated jealousy and renewed her determination to purge Marc of the evil that possessed him. She pasted on a false smile and nodded in acquiescence. “You’re right. You win. I’ll give you the eye.”

  His arms relaxed, and he allowed her to sit up. Swallowing heavily, she reached into her shirt and retrieved the eye. She held it between her fingertips, its burning heat emitting waves of negative energy. The sensation made her want to toss the stone aside.

  “Give it to me.” He tried to take it.

  “A kiss first.” Her pulse thundered as she leaned down and waited until they were almost touching before she planted her feet on the ground. She stood and twisted toward the cliff face, but he was faster. He grabbed her ankle and brought her to her knees. Desperate, she scrambled to escape his grasp.

  “Damn it, Cindi, don’t make me kill you.” He dragged her across the dirt and rocks, her knees screaming in agony. Frantic, she rolled onto her back and her tailbone hit the ground hard. Eyes watering with pain and grief over what she had to do, she raised her free foot and kicked him hard in the face. His nose broke with an awful grinding sound. Blood sprayed onto her shoe and across the bare skin of her arms. He cussed and his grip weakened. Cindi scrambled back across the path to the edge of the crater.