Don't Read After Dark: Keep the lights on while reading these! (A McCray Horror Collection)

by McCray, Carolyn

  Panic replaced confusion. “What?” she asked. “Who else has died?”

  “No, no. Nothing like that.”

  “Well then what?” she asked, searching his face for clues, but all she found was a some stubble and a concerned look in his eye.

  “Remember how they pulled your blood earlier this morning to see if you had been drugged?” She nodded. Of course, she did. She still had the bandage to prove it. Brian continued, “Well, we got the results back.”

  Angela waited, but he didn’t finish. “And?”

  “And, I don’t know how to tell you this.”

  Angela’s mind went to cancer. Could it be cancer? Diabetes? What?

  She laid her hands over Brian’s. “Just tell me.”

  He looked into her eyes. “Angela, you are pregnant.”

  “I can’t be,” she said, as her hands fell away.

  “They triple-checked the test. You are pregnant.”

  Angela shook her head, breaking from of Brian’s touch. “No, you don’t understand. I can’t be.” She didn’t know why she felt so ashamed when she said, “I am a virgin.”

  Brian’s eyebrows created deep furrows. “But you were engaged.”

  “Nick and I were waiting until we were married.” It all sounded so stupid now. After everything that had happened, clinging to her good Catholic girl upbringing had brought her nothing but pain.

  “No one else?” Brian asked, obviously still not understanding the full extent of the word “virgin.” “An office party?” he suggested. “Did you go out drinking? Maybe someone slipped you a—”

  Angela stood up. “With everything that has happened, with people dying around me like poisoned flies, do you really think that I would go out bar-hopping? Hanging out with strange men, let alone, let alone allow them to…”

  She couldn’t finish the sentence. She couldn’t even stand up on her own anymore. Luckily, Brian’s arms were there to catch her.

  “No, Angela, of course not. I’m sorry.” He gently stroked her hair. “But the tests don’t lie. You are going to have a baby.”

  As tears rolled down her cheeks, Angela guessed she did have so much more to cry about and no angel to help explain why.

  CHAPTER 3

  Beauty broke from Rook’s arm and positioned herself next to their “consultant.” But how could Rook be insulted? The witch doctor in his full tribal headdress made quite the scene. Beauty could not be crouching any closer to the man without touching him.

  “So, do you always do house calls?”

  The witch doctor smiled, showing his filed-to-a-point teeth. Yet his speech was a fine, clipped British accent. “For someone as beautiful and charming as you, always.”

  Rook feared that Beauty would swoon, but instead, she retied a bandage around Chad’s neck like it was a fashionable scarf.

  “TuTi, has Beauty briefed you?” Rook asked.

  “No, I have not had that pleasure.”

  Beauty opened her lips, which apparently had fresh lip gloss applied to them, but her cell phone rang. She answered, “The happiest Arranger on earth.” Instantly, her smile disappeared, and she offered the phone to Rook. “It’s Savage.”

  But Rook waved her off.

  Beauty’s expertly plucked eyebrow went up. “The Prime Tervian of the Cabal, the guy in charge of our illustrious organization, wants to speak with you.”

  “So?” Rook responded.

  “Your uncle isn’t taking ‘no’ for an answer.”

  Sighing, Rook accepted the phone from Beauty, then immediately hit the “end call” button. Grinning, he handed it back to her. As he knelt beside the witch doctor and Chad, Rook couldn’t help but notice that Beauty turned off her phone. Guess he wasn’t the only one who didn’t want to talk to old uncle Savage.

  TuTi sniffed the vice president’s nephew. The bone piercing his nasal cartilage vibrated with the effort. “Something is wrong. Desperately wrong.”

  “Um, you could say that,” Rook said, as he opened Chad’s shirt.

  The witch doctor let out a hiss and jumped away.

  “Yep. That was pretty much my response,” Rook noted as Chad roused a little, but equally quickly, he went back into his stupor.

  Like a cat approaching a snake, the witch doctor snuck forward to examine the symbols more closely. “Why didn’t the guardian stop this?”

  “He tried, but he was killed.”

  TuTi’s head snapped around. His voice was thick with shock. “How? I mean, Walter was such a nice… guy.”

  Rook threw a thumb in Kadie’s direction. “Tell that to the overeager grad student over there. She’s the one who killed him.”

  The witch doctor set his eyes upon Kadie. Rook knew that she was pretty damn lucky that TuTi did not have his curse kit on him, or her skin would be boiling off right about now.

  Chad roused again. “What’s happening?”

  Beauty put a hand on his shoulder. “Shh, darlin.’ We are trying to figure that out right now.”

  Rook looked at TuTi. “Got any answers for him?”

  “Best guess?” TuTi asked. “An ambulatory biphasic porticular vortex generator.”

  Chad tried to sit up, but Beauty urged the student back down as Rook answered, “You mean a walkin’, talkin’ Hellgate of our very own?”

  “It is unprecedented, but yes,” TuTi answered, leaning over the markings again. “I do believe so.”

  Chad thrashed under Beauty’s hold. “Gawd, it hurts! Help me.”

  “Can I give him something?” Beauty asked. From Rook’s nod, she opened her huge Chanel purse and sorted through an impressive array of medicinal plants and pharmaceuticals. “Let’s see, honey. Do you think Vicodin or Percocet would make you feel better?”

  Chad lifted himself up onto his elbows. “Just give me something!”

  Rook liked it better when the kid was comatose. He turned back to TuTi. “Any idea what will trigger it to open?”

  The witch doctor shook his head. “Without the proper codex, it will be trial and error to sort out the portal’s sequence.” He pointed to Chad’s chest. “Plus, there are a few symbols that do not match the original seal. What those portend, I do not know.”

  Rook frowned. “But the ancient wards will keep it from just… just…”

  “Spewing forth hell? I’m not sure. The Holy Seal is intact, but it wasn’t blessed by an elder, nor was it sanctified by the blood of a dozen virgins.”

  Rook nodded toward Beauty. “You heard it. Get on virgin detail.”

  * * *

  Beauty risked a few wrinkles as she frowned. “That’s certainly easier said than done.”

  But, as always, Rook simply shrugged at her concerns. “Then start looking in countries that don’t get Jersey Shore.”

  To her surprise and delight, TuTi rose to her defense. “Rook, Beauty is correct. We cannot take the matter of the virgins lightly.

  Beauty really wished she could gloat properly. However, Chad refused to take the medications. But wasn’t he the one who asked for the pills? And didn’t he understand how hard it was to get double-prescription-strength Oxycontin? But the student’s head thrashed from side to side as the other men spoke.

  “These cannot just be girls pulled from the streets. They must be cleansed and purified.”

  Rook waved him off. “I’ll let you two lovebirds handle the quality control.”

  Beauty should have been insulted by the comment, or at the very least miffed that Rook was shoving even more responsibilities onto her. However, the thought of working side by side with the witch doctor more than made up for any annoyance.

  Rook rose to his feet, stretching out a kink. “Now, the question is, how do we find an elder with the necessary power to—”

  Chad’s head snapped back, and a wail that felt like it came from the deepest bowels of hell rose from his throat. It was like a hyena’s cry, while a hundred evil little girls scratched their nails down a chalkboard.

  “Um, trying to have a conversati
on here…” Rook said, as he nodded to the British guard. “Keep him quiet.”

  The guard obeyed, but looked at Beauty as Chad’s entire body arched and the sound became a high-pitched buzz. “Exactly how in the bloody hell are we supposed to do that?”

  Beauty had no idea, but at least Chad’s mouth was open, and Beauty was pouring OxyContin in as though it were pixie dust. “Get his shoulders.”

  Leaning over, the guard tried to hold down the agitated student. Too late, Beauty noticed the symbols on Chad’s chest become a fiery red. The flaming portal sprang open, consuming the guard so quickly that he didn’t even have time to scream.

  In horror, Beauty watched the witch doctor dragged toward the open maw. She snatched his hand, pulling back against the portal’s unnatural tug. TuTi struggled against the tide, but then found her gaze.

  “You truly embody your namesake.” With that, the witch doctor let go.

  “No!” Beauty screamed, grasping at air. Then she, too, felt the portal’s call.

  “Rook!” she screamed, but he took a step back. “Help!”

  She had known Rook for a very long time. Sure, he could be a dick, but was he really going to let her get an express, one-way ticket to hell? Beauty needn’t have worried. Rook was only backing away to get the speed he needed to jump over the growing portal. Once clear of the spinning flames, he raised a fist and punched Chad in the jaw.

  The man’s head snapped over. The inhuman wailing stopped, and the portal snapped closed. Rising and falling on the unconscious student’s chest, the seal sat quiescent. Beauty reached out and touched the flesh along the edge.

  “The good ones always slip away.” At least the witch doctor had known the risks. Poor Chad and the others did not.

  Rook shook out his hand, feeling the sting of the punch. “Yeah, and from now on, let’s make keeping Chad happy and calm a priority, ‘Kay?”

  Rising to her feet, Beauty couldn’t agree more. “I’m so on board.” She looked around. The cannibals had taken their dead and now stood ready at the entrance. “Time to make our exit?”

  Rook was about to answer when Kadie stepped forward with a look of sheer horror on her face.

  “What have you done?”

  Without warning, she flew at Rook, fists flying. But Rook caught the student by the wrists and slammed her up against the wall.

  “You know what? I’m really getting tired of your attitude.”

  Suddenly, Rook pulled a knife from his belt and unceremoniously gutted Kadie. The remaining guards yanked their guns into firing position. What was Rook thinking? He would never… well, never was a bit of a stretch, but Rook wouldn’t usually stab an unarmed woman.

  * * *

  Rook felt the warm blood gush over his hands. Such a satisfying feeling. He heard a gun cock, and then Beauty yelled, “Don’t!”

  His Arranger must have realized that the blood spilling out onto the floor was not a dark red, but a nice bright demon green. Even now Kadie’s face warped and melted away, revealing the scaly-faced creature beneath.

  “Think I couldn’t smell the demon in you, Shivate?” he asked, grinding the blade in deeper. “Why are you here?”

  The thing spat a vile wad of demon saliva in his face. “I will have my due!”

  Damn, but Shivates were a strong bunch, even when gutted. She threw Rook back. He landed with an ungraceful thud. Quickly, he brought the knife to bear again as the Shivate shed the last of her human skin and grew her claws to their natural eight-inch length. Beauty would be so jealous. But as the Shivate pounced toward Rook, a spear pierced her side. Then another, and another, until the demon looked like a perverse shish kebab.

  With one last rattling gasp, the Shivate slumped. The cannibals tested the demon, jabbing and chattering around her until they were certain that the she-beast was dead.

  The eyes behind the professor’s thick glasses were glazed over in horror and denial. “What do we… What do we do now?”

  Rook wiped the green blood off the knife. “Um, get outta here before the cavalry strikes up the barbecue?”

  As the cannibals dragged the body of the Shivate out of the cave, the professor’s voice shook. “But what about…”

  The demon that was once Kadie slid by, leaving a trail of green-streaked dirt.

  “Looks like they found themselves some dessert.”

  * * *

  Angela allowed Brian to guide her to his car. She wanted to protest. She wanted to scream. She wanted to know how any of this could happen to her, yet she simply put one foot in front of the other. It was enough for now just to keep herself upright.

  Brian pulled his keys from his pocket. “I am going to be staying with you until we can arrange something more permanent.”

  Using every ounce of her strength, Angela shook her head. “I will be fine.”

  The detective raised an eyebrow, though. “Look, I didn’t report your little ‘episode’ back there, but I will, if it takes you getting the care you need.”

  When she didn’t fight him—How could she?—Brian opened the passenger side door. He rubbed her arm, obviously trying to reassure her. “I’m sure once you get some food in you and get some rest, this won’t feel so bad.”

  She might be numb and despondent, but that didn’t make her naïve. Angela looked at Brian.

  “Okay,” he conceded. “But at least you’ll be well rested and well fed.” His tone lowered to a near whisper. “And you won’t be alone. Through any of this.”

  How she wanted to say she appreciated that fact. That she appreciated him. The truth was, she just couldn’t. Brian deserved someone so much more than she could ever be. He deserved his equal—not some broken, cursed woman who carried around God- only-knew-what in her belly.

  “Detective Hoffman?” a man asked, as he approached from the other side of the car.

  Brian eyed the guy’s crisp, dark suit. They looked like FBI to Angela but she was no expert. A second man followed closely behind. They both flashed badges. “I am Special Agent Moore, and this is Special Agent Conn.”

  “Okay…” Brian answered.

  “We are here to relieve you of Ms.—”

  Angela curled her arms around her body as the second man reached out for her. Brian stepped between her and the man. What was happening?

  “I don’t know who sent you, but no one is taking Angela—”

  Angela screamed as Agent Moore pulled out a weapon. Brian went for his gun, but the Taser leads hit him the chest. The gun clanged to the ground, useless, as his body flopped on the ground.

  “Run,” he said through gritted teeth.

  Whether it was his words, or some survival instinct buried deep within her, Angela’s feet moved as she ran toward the police station. The second man grabbed her by the hair, abruptly ending her sprint. She clawed and punched and elbowed—all of the self-defense moves that Brian had taught her, but none fazed the man. He lifted her off the ground, covering her mouth with his broad hand.

  Angela bit down hard, but did not even get a grunt from her kidnapper.

  She could see people coming out of the station. Surely they could get to them in time, but a van squealed to a stop. As soon as the door slid open, the man tossed her inside. Angela hit her head hard on the bare steel floor. She tried to rush the door, but it slammed shut in her face. Desperately, she searched for the handle, but there was none.

  As the van careened away from the station, Angela fought the dizziness and groped to her feet, clutching at the grating covering the back window. Brian too staggered up, gun in hand.

  “No!” she screamed. He needed to stay down. He needed to stay safe. He shouldn’t risk anything more for her.

  But Brian raised his weapon and got two shots off before he took a bullet to the chest. Angela saw the blood splatter across his shirt, and the look of shock and pain as he crumpled to the ground.

  The van made a sharp right turn as Angela watched Brian bleed to death.

  CHAPTER 4

  Rook le
aned his head against the leather airplane seat. He closed his eyes and tucked the thick goose down blanket under his chin. Perhaps later he they would offer warm towels. Ah, how he loved first class. Once he awakened from his nap, he would have to compliment Beauty on her “arranging” skills. From finding a cannibal tribe in the middle of a civil war to booking the best seats on the plane, Beauty should win the “Arranger of the Year” award. That is, if the Cabal gave out such things.

  The only thing to taint the plane ride was Chad resting fitfully between he and Beauty, disturbing what could have been the most perfect flight in history. The student had already nearly knocked over Rook’s champagne.

  “Are you sure he doesn’t need another pill?” Beauty whispered.

  Rook didn’t bother opening his eyes. “If anybody needs more Valium, Beauty, it is you.”

  Ever since her nearly betrothed witch doctor got sucked into Chad’s chest, his Arranger had been a little on edge.

  He could hear Beauty take in a breath in retort, when her phone buzzed. Quickly, she snatched it from her purse. The one bad thing about being in first class was that the flight attendants were all over their passengers.

  “I am sorry, madam, but you can’t use that device during the flight,” the woman said with a French accent.

  Rook cracked an eye open and watched Beauty make quite a scene of “turning off” the phone. “I am so, so sorry. I must have forgotten to turn it off. Won’t happen again.”

  The flight attendant smiled at Beauty. “Very good, then.” She moved off to the young couple to their left who wanted a few more blankets. Rook could probably guess what they wanted to do underneath them. He also guessed that their amorous feelings would be extinguished if they knew a Hellgate sat not two seats over. Talk about a buzzkill.

  Beauty leaned over Chad and whispered, “It’s Savage on the line.”

  Rook rolled his pillow up and propped his head against the bulkhead. “You heard the lady.”

  “He says it’s urgent.”

  Rook yawned. “Oh, when isn’t it? I mean, seriously, when?”

  Beauty leaned in even closer. “First off, he says he can hear everything you just said, and that he will meet us in Lisbon if you don’t take his call. Right now.”