Legends of the Damned: A Collection of Edgy Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance Novels

by Lindsey R. Loucks

  “Remain calm,” Matias assured us both.

  “Never mind,” said another officer. “If he doesn’t have ID, we have a description and the matching plates for the stolen vehicle.”

  “Planning on leaving the country, are we?” offered another.

  “Sorry officer, but what are we being charged with?” I asked, figuring it couldn’t hurt.

  “You’ve got another thing coming, both of you ladies, but this man, is being charged for Kidnapping. Seeing as how you are driving a stolen vehicle belonging to a dead man, all three of you are to be brought into custody.”

  “You don’t think we…” I started, but Matias placed his palm up in the air.

  “Calm,” he said. “This could have been much worse.”

  30

  Roma

  We were brought back to L.A in the back of a cop car. Not usual procedures, but there happened to be someone in the area who needed to return home that night. All three of us sat handcuffed in those uncomfortable seats. Matias was the only one who stayed quiet.

  Initially, I was screaming.

  I’m not too proud to say I was upset.

  “YOU GOD DAMNED PEOPLE WHY DON’T YOU MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS. I WASN’T KIDNAPPED. DON’T YOU THINK I WOULD TELL YOU IF I WAS KIDNAPPED!”

  … That sort of thing.

  That basically lasted for the first forty-five minutes to an hour and a half. Periodically, throughout that whole tirade, Claire would chime in and insist that I was telling that truth, and that she was not kidnapped either. Neither of us were victims, and that really what the officer was doing was more harmful than useful.

  Of course, neither of the two of us could actually talk about what happened back at the church. The apparent reason for the death of Friar, and why we happened to escape in his vehicle wasn’t something we could provide clarity about. When you deal with paranormal phenomenon, you are unerringly alone.

  I slowed to a stop, but Claire kept up the fight.

  She made it a point to ask the officer escorting us to Los Angeles to stop every thirty minutes.

  “I need to go to the bathroom.”

  “I’m thirsty.”

  “We haven’t eaten anything all day.”

  “When do I get my phone call?”

  “How do we know you aren’t going to pull the car over in the middle of the desert and shoot us in the back of the head?”

  To all of these comments, the officer continued stoically to ignore all of us. Only when Claire moved to threatening to piss herself, did the officer reply.

  Claire: “If you don’t let me out, you’re going to have to

  Officer: “Seats are designed for it, enjoy yourself.”

  That was the end of the rebellion. We all spent the rest of the ride in silence. Along the way, I imagined that I might have felt some level of contentedness, remaining separate — living in the desert as a spirit might.

  Haunting the desert plateaus — then my heart got the better of me.

  Later on that evening, we ended up back in Los Angeles. I have to say that I was significantly less enthusiastic to be home at that point than I might have been at any other point in my life. The smog, was apparent as soon as we entered the valley. The way that the evening traffic seemed to trudge forward like a clogged artery on its way to a terminal collapse wasn’t inspiring either.

  As a matter of fact, I felt more in common with the endless poor that lined the streets on the way past skid row than I did with any of the other inhabitants of the city. When we passed the downtown precinct, I realized that I was going to be treated like a high class criminal. For some reason they wanted me on the West Side. Then, when we got back to the station, it all made sense to me.

  I wasn’t a wanted criminal — I was a pawn, or a trophy prize for a knight in shining armor.

  Fucking Dale.

  We entered into the police station, and Dale was sitting there in his business casual attire. I resented him in his entirety. All of the death that I had experienced in the last two days clouded up in my head and aggregated around him. I wanted him to know what suffering looked like so he would know not to be such an insufferable piece of shit.

  “Roma!” he exclaimed, holding his arms out to either side. “I’m so glad you’re ok!”

  I punched him.

  Right in the fucking jaw. Knocked his mouth shut, and caused Claire to let out a giggle. Matias was being restrained by two officers and directed toward the cells in the back of the station. He paused, holding both of the officers in place while he looked over at me to make sure I was alright.

  “C’mon now young lady,” a cop admonished, pulling me away from Dale. “That’s no way to treat your rescuer.”

  “It’s fine,” Dale waved. “It’s fine. Just blowing off a little steam. Nothing to worry about. You can let her go.”

  He gesticulated to the cop, and then brushed himself off. One hand went reflexively to rub the side of his jaw. I had gotten him good.

  “Well, if you insist,” the cop replied. “We wouldn’t be able to charge her unless you…”

  Dale waved his hand again, dismissing the man.

  “Thank you,” Dale concluded, in an official manner.

  “Well, as it is, you’re under no obligation to stay, but the man who kidnapped you will stay in custody until everything is sorted out. We know the car that you took belonged to a Mr. Friar Sean McAffern. His body was recovered earlier. There were signs of a massive struggle, but none of the prints on the weapon that killed the Friar are a match for you or your friend.”

  I remained silent.

  “We’ll call you in for questioning, but for now, you’re free to go home and rest.”

  “C’mon,” Dale commanded, grabbing me by the hand and leading me out of the station.

  I was too stunned to respond. Claire looked on with depression at the unfortunate shift in circumstances. Like a bitch in tow I was lead by Dale out of the police building.

  31

  Roma

  Getting into the shit of our relationship didn’t take very long. I suppose I opened up that conversation with my fist when we got back to the station. Whatever came after that point was likely only formality — still, we had to get a few things off our chests with one another. The waters had bee muddied for far too long.

  He started everything off.

  “So you punch me when I rescue you from being kidnapped by schizophrenics now?”

  “That’s your interpretation, and it’s a pretty fucked up one to begin with, but we can start there if it will make you feel any better.”

  “Hard to misinterpret a strike to the jaw.”

  “You and I both know that’s not what I’m referring to here.”

  “Look, why don’t we start off on a deeper level?”

  “Really, Dale, you want to get deep. Fine, I think you’re a total douche, and I’ve thought that for a very long time.”

  “Now, tell me how you really feel,” he laughed.

  “It’s not funny Dale, you treat me like I’m some inept child, or a doll who had her stardom, and is now just carried along by the grace of a pretentious doctor.”

  “I think more than a little bit of those feelings are based on internal projections, founded in your own insecurities.”

  He had me, and so, I swore he was wrong.

  “You are so full of shit!”

  “Looks like I hit a nerve.”

  “Why don’t you go bang one of those nursing assistants you’re always checking out at the hospital.”

  “You know what I like about you?”

  “No,” I replied, with as much bitterness as I could muster, “and I don’t care either way.”

  “You’re so passionate about everything that you do,” he continued. “I’m sure that like you said, this wasn’t a kidnapping, but actually something that you believed.”

  “Oh, how generous of you.”

  “Absolutely,” he grinned. “How do you think the rest of society would h
ave responded to you if you had told them that people were changing into demons and then wasting away into shadows…”

  “Well, I don’t really care, Dale,” I replied. “Sometimes you have to just keep heading in a direction because you believe that when you arrive it will eventually mean something. I can’t explain the process of intuition to you.”

  “You’re a woman,” he said, simply. “Intuitive, sensitive, and occasionally totally irrational.”

  “Fucking thanks, Dale.”

  “It’s not a bad thing, but sometimes you need a man around to tell you what’s what. You know, to help you out from the inner turmoil that’s caused by the condition of your--”

  “Just shut up,” I interrupted. “You’re such an asshole, I can’t even begin to…”

  “Look, I’m only trying to help.”

  “Like Hell, you’re trying to…”

  “Ohh… so that’s why.”

  “What do you mean ‘that’s why’ — you know what. Never mind. I don’t care. I’m done I should have done this a long time ago, but I just don’t have time for your shit any longer. If I’m the victim of this alleged kidnapping case, then I’m going to go to the police station and testify that there was no kidnapping.”

  “Even then, what do you think is going to happen when your new friend’s prints are found on the weapon that killed Friar Sean?”

  “What?”

  I paused, feeling that terrible sense of dread grow in my body once more.

  “How did you know about that?” I asked.

  “Look,” he replied. “How I know what I know isn’t important. What is important is that you and I have a serious conversation about how we are going move forward in a healthy relationship with one another. We are due to be married soon, and I can’t move forward with you like this if we are going to be at odds from the beginning.”

  “You don’t get it Dale.”

  “What’s not to get?” he laughed. “You’re pulling some incredible stunts here… frankly, I’d say you’re lucky you’ve got someone like me who’s willing to stick with you.”

  “I’m going to go back to the police station. I shouldn’t have let you take me away from there in the first place.”

  “They will mark you as an accomplice, or as psychologically traumatized. I think it’s best if you stay with me.”

  His tone had changed for the worse. There was a sinister undertone now, a coldness that wasn’t there before.

  “Whatever you think this is going to look like, this relationship of ours, I don’t want any part of it.”

  I took off the ring, and reached my hand out to drop it in his palm.

  “Here,” I insisted.

  “No, no,” he said, grabbing my wrist instead of accepting the ring. “I’m afraid She’s not going to like that.”

  “She?” I exclaimed. “Maybe you’re the fucking psycho here. Who are you talking about?”

  The movement came so quickly, I barely had time to register the hit. I saw his weight shift as he pulled me in toward his body. My eyes went wide, and Dale’s fist rose to meet my face.

  Lights out.

  32

  Roma

  I woke up in the back of Dale’s car. My wrists hurt, and I realized that he had removed the side paneling of the door and handcuffed me to the actual frame of the car. I looked down to see my shirt was torn, and my pants were down around my ankles. There were scratch marks all over my body. I couldn’t tell what had happened to me, but I felt sick, violated and betrayed.

  “Dale!”

  He accelerated the car and turned up the music that was already blasting. The amplification of sound drove me to a point of confusion and pain. The speaker was right next to my ear. I couldn’t think clearly. There was a sudden jerk of the car to the left, and my head slammed into the side of the vehicle.

  “DALE! Cut it out!” I screamed.

  No use. He ignored me completely, while the sound of Death Metal obliterated my skull. I couldn’t understand the lyrics, but the music sounded like a demonic marching hymn. The agitation I felt from the sound of the music pushed me further toward freedom.

  I began to kick and pound against the side of the car, jarring my body with each impact. It didn’t matter how much I threw myself against the vehicle, no pain could match the level of discomfort that I felt from the music — not to mention the emotional betrayal of the entire situation.

  After a minute of pitiful, if violent, rebellion, he turned down the music only enough so that his voice could come through the chaos and reach my ears.

  “Stop acting like such a child!” he yelled.

  “A CHILD!” I returned, “Is this how you would treat a child. You’re a god damned psychopath, I hope they lock you away for this. I hope you…”

  He wove the car abruptly from left to right and back a gain. The rapid lateral movement shoved my temple once more into the steel frame of the vehicle. My head was sharp with pain, and I had to cower in silence just to focus on dealing with the overstimulation of the moment.

  “This is for you!” he cried out, insanely over the noise of the stereo. “This is because you are loved!”

  That was it; that was more than I could handle.

  “Loved!” I replied, gritting my teeth through he pain of the moment. “This isn’t how you love someone. This is how you abuse and dehumanize a person. You don’t love me!”

  I was directing all of me vehemence and hatred toward him. There was nothing left that I could see in him that was positive. There was no ray of hope hidden beneath that pretentious exterior. It had all fallen down, and come clean. Below the shit, there was only a thin veneer of self-serving etiquette, and then nothing but shit all the way down.

  “Not me!” he exclaimed, almost laughing. “HER!”

  I grew silent, and a cold sweat began to pour out of my body. I couldn’t tell if there was a reason why he was being so insane, but some level of my consciousness didn’t need an explanation. I had seen enough of this bizarre shit to understand where this was going. This time, I didn’t see how any angels might come to my rescue. I don’t know if it was right or wrong, but I closed my eyes, and prayed for Matias.

  “Who’s she?” I asked, not being able to help myself.

  I needed final affirmation to understand that my intuition was accurate. Dale only laughed maniacally over the guttural sounds of death metal.

  “It’s so odd that someone could mean so much to you and you’d never know they were even there.”

  The statement was a double edged sword. Suddenly I realized that not only was this a problem on the same level as the previous nightmares, but it was also a personal issue. The words revealed a deeper understanding of the rejection that I had been leveling steadily toward Dale for months now. He knew on some level that I had never truly loved him, and perhaps that justification had been all that he needed to never truly love me in return.

  Our arrangement might have moved forward without any interruption. We could have been one of those old, bitter, dissatisfied couples who never really found it in ourself to love one another. Instead, we would descend into madness, pain and abuse.

  “It’s all for you…” he continued, turning the radio down. “Don’t you see that?”

  I looked at him with tears in my eyes, and watched as he turned around to face me. We were traveling at incredibly high speeds, and the scenery shot past the front of the car behind him. The tears in my vision blurred everything together. Even though the music had been turned down, everything was still abrasive, and far too loud.

  I wanted to turn it all off. I was losing the will to live. Just a moment of peace was all I needed. Just one single moment of release, and I imagined that I would be able to handle all of this shit. I had wanted to fight before, but now, everything was bleeding together into the chaotic maelstrom of senselessness and entropy.

  “It was all to keep you safe,” he said, staring into my red and puffy eyes.

  Suddenly, a movement caught my
eye on the left side of my field of vision. The approaching object was silver and blue, and massive. Contact was made, and I watched, in slow motion while my body was whiplashed once more into the side of the vehicle. We had reached our crescendo, and whatever god was listening had granted my prayer.

  When my head hit the side of the car again, I was finally granted the peace I was looking for — in darkness.

  33

  Roma

  After the night, always comes the morning to follow; at least that is what we are lead to believe through patterned observation. As for what happens at the far side of this life, one can only hope. For myself, I hope that I’m with Matias. The realization of exactly how deep my affections for Matias were came in the form of a vision.

  While I was under, I experienced a world not unlike the world around me during my waking life. There were houses, and landscapes and people. There were agendas, and emotional experiences. There were even lovers.

  He was there.

  Matias.

  All around me, the landscape teemed with villainy, and decrepit forms of evil. I was walking through a veritable necropolis of lies and illusion. Matias was the only person providing me with any kind of guidance throughout the entirety of that ordeal.

  While I was busy navigating the nightmare realm, and its psychic landscapes, Matias was my single guiding source of light. Everything else was uncertain, but there was something coming through him — something that changed me and gave me hope.

  I almost met him, but when I got close, there was a rush of blood to my head, and I fell down on the ground of a decrepit cityscape. I remember feeling the ground beneath my body, and knowing it was a dream. I had this internal sense of wisdom which told me that this is what the end would feel like. For some reason, I intuited that when I felt that level of pain and inability to operate within the dream, that would be the time where I would lose my ability to lie and function as Roma.