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

by McCray, Carolyn

  “Pleasure doing business with you,” Rook said, hoping each syllable dripped with the maximum dose of sarcasm possible.

  “Sorry, I can’t say the same,” Vlad sneered as he tucked the cash in his pocket.

  Rook went to turn away when the vampire’s demeanor changed. It was easy to forget how young Vlad had been when turned. Without the strut and attitude, he barely looked older than Rook’s Seeker.

  “Is Fanny with you?”

  “Spare me,” Rook answered. “Spare us both.”

  “But I just wanted to know—”

  “If you killed her? Scarred her for life? What?” Rook demanded.

  Vlad could not meet Rook’s gaze.

  “Just let her know that I am sorry,” Vlad said.

  “Contrition from a vampire,” Rook stated. “How very touching.”

  Vlad’s eyes flashed red before he dissolved into smoke, then was gone. Just as well. Rook left the barn and trotted through the field to the van. Climbing in, he handed Beauty the contract.

  “Let’s get this disaster jump-started.”

  Fanny popped up from behind his seat. “Did Vlad ask about me?”

  Rook didn’t miss a beat. “Sorry, hon. No.”

  Fanny sat back down, cross-legged and pouting, but it was for the best. “Star-crossed” didn’t even come close to describing Fanny’s and Vlad’s relationship.

  * * *

  Beauty let the van idle until Fanny went back to her tea party before whispering to Rook, “Are you sure you don’t want to find a nice safe spot for Hellgate and the Virgin?”

  “I’m positive,” Rook answered, indicating that they should get going.

  “But we’re delivering them directly to their doorstep.”

  “I know,” Rook replied. “Brilliant, isn’t it?”

  Beauty went to open her mouth as she pulled the van out of the mud and onto the two-lane highway, but Rook’s scowl stopped her. Well, Beauty could put on a world-class scowl herself.

  “Okay, maybe not brilliant,” Rook conceded. “But it is practical. We don’t have the manpower to effectively hide them and duke it out with the powers that be.”

  Rook was right. Sort of. That was Rook’s greatest strength and greatest weakness. Rook was extremely talented at rolling the dice, but even he threw snake eyes every once in a while. Beauty had to be sure this wasn’t one of those times.

  “It’s still a huge risk,” Beauty commented. “I know that it isn’t ideal, but we could call Savage, and at least—”

  “At least what?” Rook demanded. “Have him craft one of his patented compromises that leaves everyone but him screwed? I don’t think so. We’re past negotiating.”

  Rook gazed down the dark road. “No. Tonight. Tonight we fight.”

  Beauty had been afraid of that.

  * * *

  Tomahawk steadied his laptop as the van pulled to a halt. Out of the window, a large sign announced, “The Devil’s Punchbowl Recreational Area.” Boy, did they have the first half of that right. The second half? Not so much. He saved all of his programs and sent the results of his research to his phone as the rest of the group exited the van.

  “We are going to have to hike it in from here,” he announced as Beauty groaned. She really needed to invest in some fashionable hiking boots.

  Rook struck off down the trail, and everyone hurried to catch him. Chad was all the heavier as he and Angela slung him between them.

  “Um,” Tomahawk said. “Are you going to tell us the plan?” When Rook didn’t answer, Tomahawk asked, “You do have a plan? Even a bad one?”

  “Absolutely,” Rook answered.

  They made their way down the steep grade without Rook filling them in.

  “Are you going to share it?”

  “Nope.”

  Tomahawk steadied Fanny when she almost tumbled down the trail, headfirst. “Careful.”

  “Okay!” she said, and then took off, skipping again.

  Beauty luckily snagged Fanny’s sweater and got the girl to slow down as she asked Rook, “Why not?”

  “Because you do not want to know ahead of time.”

  “But—” Angela tried to ask. However, Rook cut her off.

  “Look, the plan disturbs even me.”

  Everyone else stumbled to a halt as Rook marched on. A plan that disturbed Rook? Crap. It really had to be bad.

  Beauty’s voice was shaky as she tried to reassure everyone. “It can’t be much worse than Budapest.”

  As he got Chad and Angela moving again, Tomahawk raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that?”

  By Beauty’s frown, Tomahawk guessed not.

  * * *

  Rook reached the plateau as the earth beneath his feet rumbled. His hand lashed out and grabbed hold of the nearest branch. Pebbles jittered their way down from the hillside above. He caught Fanny as she skidded down the steep trail.

  “That’s fun!” Fanny exclaimed, and then her mouth dropped open at the sight that lay before them.

  Storms tumbled over themselves—as if they wanted to get the best seat in the house. Lightning danced above the narrow valley, but the bolts weren’t white. They were purple, red, and even black outlined in silver. Thunder boomed close enough to rattle boulders from their perches.

  Tomahawk and the rest caught up.

  Rook indicated the center of the valley. “That the nexus?”

  “Yep,” he replied. Which truly was unnecessary, as the ground there oozed lava and the air above crackled with electricity.

  “Fanny?”

  She closed her eyes and her usually delighted features sagged from the pain. “Both sides converge.”

  Again. No newsflash there.

  “How many?” Rook asked.

  “Legions.”

  Rook held her hand. “Honey, is ‘legions’ a word you just like to say, or actual legions?”

  Before Fanny could answer, the sky nearly split open. Blinding lightning struck, and thunder reverberated off the sides of the canyon. The lightning faded, leaving the night sky nearly translucent as the heavenly host was held back by the thinnest of barriers. Angels armored in gilded breastplates rode chariots pulled by winged horses straining to break through the barrier.

  At the center of the Punchbowl, a wall of flame erupted from the cracks in the ground, and a host of red demons pushed and warped the thin veil that separated their dimension from Earth’s.

  Trumpets blared from above as pounding drums boomed from below.

  “Guess that was ‘legions’ in the literal sense,” Tomahawk commented.

  Rook tore his eyes away from the impending battle. Now was not the time to get starstruck. “Tommi, you and Fanny stay here and monitor the situation for any late-comers. I’d rather not be surprised.”

  Beauty frowned. “What could be more shocking than this?”

  “With my luck today, do you really want to ask?”

  Clearly she didn’t, as she helped Angela get Chad to his feet. “Where are we taking him?” Beauty asked.

  Rook stopped them, though, and turned to Tomahawk. “Quick! Take a picture of the seal.”

  Tomahawk pulled out his phone and snapped several shots. Rook pointed to the new symbols flashing on Chad’s chest. “While you’re waiting here with Fanny, try to figure out what those symbols indicate.”

  Tomahawk nodded, and Rook turned to head down the trail when Fanny jumped up and into his arms. She hugged him tightly. “Come back, okay?”

  He nearly lost his nerve as he hugged her back. Damn it, this was not the time to get emotional. “I’ll try my best.”

  Fanny wiped a tear from her eye. “ ‘Cuz I really, really, really want a S’more.”

  Rook chuckled and kissed her forehead as he set her down. “Me, too.”

  Before things could get any more teary-eyed, Rook headed down the trail. The earth was no longer being jerked in fits and starts. Now it was simply rolling underfoot, never stopping its lurching motion. Quickly, he guided Beauty, Angela, and
Chad to another small outcropping of rocks.

  He instructed Beauty to set Chad down. “You two camp out here, but be ready to move on my mark.”

  Beauty cocked an eyebrow. “Gonna share your plan yet?”

  “Nope.”

  Rook tried to urge Angela down the last bit of the trail to the valley floor, but she balked.

  “I’m not going anywhere else until I know what my role is.”

  “I thought Tomahawk warned you against asking questions when you weren’t ready for the answers?”

  Angela cradled her belly as her lips trembled. But he gave her no sympathy.

  How could he? Sympathy had ceased to exist about ten miles ago.

  Now? Rook could only offer her harsh reality.

  * * *

  Angela’s belly churned. It felt like her insides intentionally convoluted themselves, nearly doubling her over. Was it the stress, or a reaction to her unnatural pregnancy? No matter the cause, she didn’t shy away from Rook’s gaze.

  She knew that she probably didn’t want to know the answer, but she had to know the answer.

  “Tell me.”

  Rook shrugged. “You’re my insurance policy. With you and their precious bundle of joy, they will be less likely to strike directly at me.”

  Angela ground her teeth, not wanting to sound as bitter as she felt. “Kind of like hiding behind a child hostage?”

  “Exactly.”

  Was there any depth that Rook would not sink to? Did he have any kind of moral compass, or did he spin wildly whichever way the wind was blowing?

  Before she could retort, a sharp tremor hit the ground beneath them. Jolted, everyone was knocked from their feet. Angela went to rise, but her belly flared. It felt as if someone were wringing out her insides.

  She hadn’t felt like this since… since last month.

  Quickly, she calculated the days in her head. Twenty-eight days, to be exact.

  She wasn’t pregnant. She was…

  * * *

  Beauty braced herself against a boulder as her world tilted to the right, and then to the left. When she said she wanted her world rocked, it certainly was not like this. And for every tremor, every jolt, the translucent barrier between heaven and hell became all the thinner.

  Finally, she was able to get to her feet. Another pair of heels ruined.

  Rook propped Chad up, but Angela was doubled over, sitting on a jutting rock. Beauty made her way over, having to steady herself each step of the way. Thunder rumbled low and threatening, like a jaguar that growled before the fatal pounce.

  “Hon, what happened? Are you all right?” Beauty asked, checking for injuries.

  “No. Yes,” Angela said. “I think… I think it is my time of the month.”

  “Darlin’, it is all our time.”

  Angela’s hand latched onto Beauty’s arm. “No. I mean, Aunt Flo is visiting.”

  Beauty still did not understand what the woman was talking about. “Hon, house-guests could wait.”

  “I have a visitor,” Angela stressed.

  Immediately, Beauty checked the woman’s pupils. They seemed fine. “There’s no external signs of demon possession and—”

  “I have my period,” Angela stated bluntly.

  “Ohhh,” Beauty drawled. That was the only aspect of womanhood she had yet to experience. Thank goodness. “Are you sure it isn’t a miscarriage?”

  But Angela shook her head firmly. “It feels like the same old garden-variety cramps.”

  Beauty wasn’t sure if she should be elated or crushed.

  Rook called over from where Chad was. “Hello? People, I’ve got an Apocalypse to stop.”

  “This may complicate your ‘plan’ a tad,” Beauty replied.

  Letting Chad slump over, Rook was by their side in an instant. “Is Angela injured?”

  “No, it’s just that I am bleeding,” Angela explained.

  Rook’s face clouded with confusion. “But you said you weren’t hurt.”

  Angela seemed even more uncomfortable talking about this with Rook than she had with Beauty.

  It was time for Beauty to step in. “Angela is menstruating.”

  Rook stood perfectly still. His only movement was three eye blinks as he took in the information. “So she was never pregnant?”

  “I don’t think so,” Beauty admitted.

  Rook stomped to the edge of the ledge. “Great. Just f—ing great.” He stomped back, pacing between Angela and Chad. “This whole thing has been a damn ruse. A trap.”

  Okay, so it turned out that Beauty should be crushed by the news. Rook’s plan had been tentative at best. Now, though? What did they have that could possibly stop the war about to burst into their dimension?

  “What are we going to do?” Angela asked.

  Abruptly, Rook came to a halt. A grim smile crossed his face. A smile Beauty had come to know and not really like because it usually foreshadowed doom.

  “We are going to use this to our advantage,” he stated.

  “How, exactly?” Beauty asked tentatively.

  But Rook held none of her trepidation. As a matter of fact, he seemed energized by the new challenge. “As far as getting screwed, this wasn’t too bad.”

  He knelt and ripped a sleeve off of Chad’s shirt and handed it to Angela. “Soak it in your blood.”

  “What?” Angela asked, as she recoiled in horror next to Beauty. “I am not going to—”

  Beauty went to comfort her. Yes, it was a wildly inappropriate request, but Rook must have his reasons. Right? One didn’t ask for a woman’s menstrual blood without a specific purpose.

  Then, as the reason dawned on Beauty, she too stepped back in horror, realizing Rook’s next move.

  “No, Rook. You can’t possibly be thinking what I think you are.”

  He just shrugged. “What? The Cataclysmic Incantation was written for just this purpose.” Rook put the sleeve in Angela’s hand. “Now get going.”

  Angela seemed too stunned to fight and went behind a large boulder to fulfill his request, which gave Beauty time to talk Rook out of his ridiculous plan.

  “The Incantation was written by a madman over six hundred years ago, and—”

  “Who prophesied this day coming?”

  Oh, if he thought he could back her off so easily, Rook had another thing coming. “And he wrote it while raving at the moon from his dungeon as rats chewed out his eyes! He was not a stable cookie.” Rook seemed wholly unimpressed by her passionate speech. “Rook, please,” she pleaded. “You can’t be serious.”

  Horizontal lightning danced in the air above the nexus, illuminating Rook’s face. His blue eyes took on the color of steel—hard and resolved. Rook was in fact extremely serious.

  Beauty still wanted to argue, but Angela came back from behind the boulder. Thank goodness she had used the belt to her hospital robe to wrap the unseemly package. Angela handed it over to Rook.

  “Do you still need me to go out there?” Angela asked, but Rook shook his head.

  “They will smell the blood on you,” he responded. “I need you to head back to Tomahawk and Fanny,” Rook instructed Angela. “Warn them of what I plan to do. Tommi needs to get Fanny as far away from here as possible, and she needs to put up as many mental blocks as she can. Once the two forces are engaged, her mind could get trapped between them.”

  Rook turned to Beauty. “You stay here and get Chad revved up. I’ll let you know when to let him rip.”

  Then he was gone, hustling down the trail that lead to the valley floor. To the nexus—where he would be one man standing against the full forces of good and evil.

  Good thing he had the ego for it.

  Angela turned to Beauty. “Are you going to be okay?”

  “Honey,” Beauty said, kneeling next to Chad and trying to wake him up from his Valium-induced slumber, “if this battle doesn’t kill us, Rook’s trick certainly will.”

  CHAPTER 9

  The ruddy ground beneath his feet pulsed as the s
ky above shone pure white. The air thrummed with the threat of battle as Rook made his way to the exact center of the valley.

  The nexus wasn’t hard to miss, given the light show.

  Settling into the spot, Rook looked down to find a familiar face pushing against the barrier, distorting it in his own mangy image.

  “Practicing your moves, Dimitri?” Rook asked the ghost he had damned to hell.

  “You are mine,” Dimitri threatened.

  Rook sneered. “Do you want to bet on that?”

  The face receded. Guess Dimitri wasn’t feeling all that lucky.

  Pulling out the banana and oil, Rook prepared for the incantation. He poured the oil in a circle around him, but put the banana back in his pocket. He might still need it.

  Once the circle of oil was complete, Rook breathed in deeply.

  Brimstone and the scent of lilies filled his lungs.

  Once he began, there would be no turning back. He would be trapped within the magic of incantation. In all likelihood, this was a one-way trip. But at the least, Angela was out of harm’s way, and with any luck, the rest of his friends too. Well, Chad would probably be toast, but the rest should be able to get out before the real fireworks began.

  There was no point in delaying any further.

  Rook snapped his fingers, igniting the oil and forming a protective circle.

  Then, he opened the bundle Angela had given him and began the chant.

  “Blood of a woman. Blood of a man.”

  Rook felt along his belt for his knife, but came up empty. The ground trembled beneath his feet as the air crackled with energy.

  “Fine,” he said as he put his finger to his mouth and bit down. His warm, salty blood hit his tongue. He let drop after drop of his blood fall onto the sleeve coated in Angela’s blood, flaring the fabric a bright blue until, finally, a flickering flame ignited.

  He really needed to find a profession that didn’t require self-mutilation.

  Once the entire cloth was afire, Rook raised it over his head.

  “Power and Pride. Rage and Revenge, I call thee to me!”

  As the madman predicted so many centuries ago, light swirled around him, tugging heaven and hell toward Rook without damaging the barrier between them.

  Oh, yeah. That’s how you do it.