Once Upon A Midnight

by Stephanie Rowe

  “You’re next, necromancer,” Wolf said.

  I shook my head, folding my arms across my chest.

  He let out an exasperated sigh. “I’m growing rather weary of having to prod you like a stubborn cow every step of the way. Grab your stuff and move it. Now.”

  That got me seething. “You stupid, low-down…dirty bastard! How do you expect me to react? No one in her right mind would blindly follow three demon dogs into Hell! Let alone, do it with a scumbag like you at her back!”

  An intense feeling of foreboding snaked up my spine. I didn’t know if it was from me being petrified, or if I was having some kind of premonition. Wolf sneered at me.

  “One way or another, your ass is going down there. Shall I pop on over and grab your sister to help persuade you? Hmm?”

  Knowing when I was beaten, I moved forward without uttering another word. My quiet wasn’t contagious, however.

  “That’s a good girl. Do as you’re told,” he said, gloating.

  Silence followed me down those stairs, broken only by the deep, satisfied breathing of the tyrant behind me. I knew I was heading towards a strong source of power, by the way my hair stood on end and goosebumps prickled to cover my arms. It hung heavy in the air, thick, almost tangible. With every step I took in my descent, the power grew in intensity, coating my skin like molasses, its influence calling me. I walked for what seemed like hours, but in real time, not measured by ticks of fear, it had only been a few minutes. Light crawled across the next few steps I walked on before they disappeared altogether, leaving me standing in the middle of a corridor. The space was circular, about twenty feet in circumference. I glanced around the room, my eyes landing on a large, wooden door. Other than that, there was nothing really special or useful about the room. I looked over my shoulder and gave Wolf a flat look.

  “Stupid question, but am I supposed to open that door?”

  He inhaled. A smile twisted his lips, fire burning fiercely within his eyes. It was as if the place invigorated, renewed him, feeding not only his weakened essence, but also his inflated arrogance. “Yes.”

  I closed my eyes, filling my thoughts of warm summer days, my sister’s infectious laughter, and the soft caress of my lover’s touch—all of the precious things I loved most in the world. After drowning my apprehension in the sweet bliss of those memories, I opened my eyes back up, lifting my lids slowly. Calmer, I walked forward, towards the door. It had nothing adorning its surface. It was plain, wooden, and had a black iron doorknob.

  I ignored the tremors that consumed my body when carnival music began to play faintly in the background. I seriously hoped that the eerie, jovial tune wasn’t an omen, because I swore that if a freaky, balloon-toting, dancing clown was behind that door, my ass was out of there. No offense to Stephen King, but the movie It ruined any chances for clowns and me to ever be friends. Nothing, and I meant nothing, would stop me from screaming like a little girl while I ran for the nearest exit if one jumped out at me. There was only so much the vampire-slaying necromancer could take.

  Resigned, I pushed forward. Before I knew it, I was reaching for the door knob. I wrapped my fingers around the warm metal, and after a turn, the door opened.

  A dark and dismal landscape greeted me as I walked over the threshold, into what seemed like another world. I could hear Wolf shuffling up from behind, and seconds later, the door clicking shut. The first thing I noticed about the new place was that it was void of a sun or moon. That world was blanketed in never-ending shadows. But somehow, and beyond logic, I was able to see everything with perfect clarity.

  I took an apprehensive glance around. In front of me, a wide chasm separated us, in what little space was in front of the door, from a vast wasteland that resembled a grim garden of dust and bones. I twisted my neck from left to right, searching for a way to go, but I was blocked off on both sides by a rock wall. It looked like my only options were to turn around and go back inside, or I could attempt a gold-medal long jump over twenty feet of nothing, which would most assuredly end with me plummeting to my death. That latter option was out of the question, needless to say.

  “What now?”

  “We go down,” Wolf said.

  I turned and shot him a look—one that accused him of being an insufferable imbecile.

  Wolf rolled his eyes and walked forward. He started to walk around me for fear of my touch, but then changed course and walked right by me. My fingers tightened and clenched. That was it, time to show him who was really boss around there.

  “By the way, necromancer, I’m your only ticket back through that door to civilization, so do us a both a favor and keep those hands to yourself. You wouldn’t want to be trapped down here forever. Trust me.”

  My hands flew back down to my side as quick as a bullet. Magic had already risen to the tips of my fingers, so I had to concentrate on the prickling sensation until it faded away.

  “You have no idea how close you were to a final-death,” I said.

  He laughed and then winked. “Believe me, I knew. I could feel you charging up those puppies of yours even before you knew you had a real chance of zapping me. I’m so sorry to disappoint you.” Wolf’s eyes flicked over the cliff, and after one long step, he walked right off of it. “See you down there.” His voice trailed behind him.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  A cold brush of wind swiped against my cheek.

  "Wake up, young man. She needs you."

  My eyes felt heavy, a throbbing pain consuming my chest. It felt like my heart and ribcage were engulfed in flames. Two cool hands cupped my cheeks; the chilling touch helped drag me out of unconsciousness.

  "She's dying. Kris would want you save her before it is too late."

  What the hell? Where was my woman?

  "Is Kris all right?" I asked, voice slurred.

  "Yes, dear. Kris will be fine. It's her sister you should be worried about. You have to wake up and help her. And you must hurry."

  All at once, the night’s unfortunate events came rushing back to me. I remembered the cemetery, getting shot, and pleading for Kris to run. But of course, that stubborn and beautiful woman wouldn’t listen, doing exactly as she damn well pleased.

  My eyes shot open. Blurred shapes swam in out of my vision. It was so dark, and my back was pressed up against something hard and ridged, sending more spasms of pain through my chest. A soft moaning sound made me forget my own agony, and my eyes swung to land on an unclear form in front of me. Blinking a few times, I was able to finally see. My heart thundered when I saw the body of a woman curled up into the fetal position. She was underneath a tree. A small walking path was the only thing separating us.

  “Kris!” I sprung off the tree I’d been slumped against.

  I came to a jarring stop next to the woman’s still body, hoping that it wasn’t my Kristina. Upon closer inspection, I noticed that the woman had a heavy mane of straight, blond hair, instead of the thick, wavy locks of hair like Kris’s. Even though I felt guilty about it, I breathed a sigh of relief. All I could think was, Thank God, it’s not her. It was her sister, Torra.

  “You see, the young one needs help.”

  There was that voice again. I looked behind me. A residual form slunk across the narrow path and stopped next to us. The ghost had an olden-time hairdo, a full bun wrapped on top of her head with wisps of hair fluttering into her face. Her dress was vintage eighteenth century, and she wore a locket around her neck.

  “What is your name?” I asked the ghost while checking Torra’s neck for a pulse. It was weak, thrumming lightly against my fingertips—too lightly.

  “My name, dear boy, is Deidra Chase.”

  The name took me by surprise. I took a better look at the ghost’s transparent features. Sure enough, Deidra and Kristina shared the same nose and heart-shaped face. I couldn’t make out her hair color because of the whole ghost thing, but somehow, I knew it would be the same color as Kristina’s. I shook my head in disbelief. Hovering in front of me was
the ghost of one of Kristina’s descendants.

  “How can I help her?”

  Torra was close to passing on, and the only thing my powers could do was bring her back as a vampire after she was already dead. And somehow, I knew that she and Kristina wouldn’t want me to do that. Not without her explicit consent, because once done, an awakening couldn’t be undone. Not unless Torra, as a vampire, elected for a final-death.

  “Do you know any vampires who would help you?” Deidra asked.

  I thought of Rafe. Even though I had awakened many of my own vampires, I never kept in contact with them afterwards. Unlike Kristina and Rafe, I didn’t form a preternatural bond with any of my clients. It was a business arrangement. I had a feeling, however, that Kristina’s vampire would jump at the chance to help her out in any way.

  “Yeah, I think I do.”

  I pulled out my phone and scrolled until I found the number for Devil’s Playground. I had the number for every vampire bar and club in the area, but never thought I’d have cause to use them. Sometimes it paid to be thorough and prepared. The phone was picked up after several rings.

  A woman answered, “Devil’s Playground. What’s your pleasure?”

  I could hear the sounds of construction, banging hammers and the zip of numerous power tools, echoing in the background.

  “Hello, is Rafe around?”

  “Sure, honey, hold on.” There was a clatter as she set the phone down to go in search of him.

  Several seconds later, Rafe was on the line. “Is she dead?” he whispered, almost reverently.

  “Is who dead?” I shot back, confused.

  “Kris. That’s why you’re calling me, right? To tell me the bad news? I saw her ghost, Rush. You don’t have to pussy-foot about. Give it to me straight, man.”

  It took me a moment, but the reason he was freaking out finally dawned on me. Earlier, when Kristina somehow fell into her trance and ghost-walked her way over to Rafe, she inadvertently showed herself to him in a residual form. And without having any explanations as to how she could visit him in such a state, he assumed the worst. He thought she had died.

  “No…she is very much alive. I will let her explain everything to you later, but right now, her sister needs you in a bad way.”

  I could practically see his features relax as I heard a relieved sigh. “Glad to hear it. I don’t know why, but I almost lost it when I thought she was dead. Devil couldn’t even calm me down. He says our bond is unusual.” There was a pause on his end of the line. After he dealt with whatever he was feeling, he said, “Yeah, man. Of course, I’ll help. I need to see Kris with my own two eyes, anyway, so I know without a doubt she’s okay.”

  I was grateful that he agreed to help us out, no questions asked, but the desperation in his voice as he spoke of Kristina had me clenching the phone so tightly, it was close to crumbling into a million pieces. “I appreciate it,” I said, somehow able to keep my tone mild.

  Before we hung up, I gave him our location, and he promised to show up within twenty minutes. I looked down at Torra. Her head was resting on my lap. I’d taken off my jacket to drape over her unconscious form. Even passed out, the cold was sending shivers throughout her body. I could tell by her pallor and shallow breathing that she was flirting with the reaper. For her sake, and also for Kristina’s, I hoped death was a prudent tease.

  “Did you locate a willing vampire?” Deidra asked. She had been patiently hovering next to the tree, eyes never leaving Torra.

  “He’ll be here shortly.”

  I looked down at Torra once more, imagining how Kristina would take it if I couldn’t save her sister. Words couldn’t describe the anguish and loss that would terrorize her. I would do everything in my power to make sure she never had to feel that kind of pain.

  “Good. My great-granddaughter did well to associate herself with the likes of you. There may be hope for her yet.”

  Her statement took me by surprise. “Hope?”

  Deidra gave me a serious look with a creased brow and pressed lips. It was comical in a way, but I didn’t dare laugh. It wasn’t every day I found myself being scrutinized by the ghost of my girlfriend’s great-grandmother.

  “Do you know how many vampires my great-granddaughter has slain?”

  I shook my head.

  She threw her hands on her hips and huffed. “At least twenty. Our line has been given an incredible gift. And ever since she could wield this gift, her power, she has done nothing but destroy the creatures she was born to create with it. She reminds me of my daughter, Kris’s grandmother, Lilly, whom Kris will be meeting shortly.”

  My head spun with all the new information. I couldn’t think, so I asked, “How and when will she meet Lilly?”

  “That’s where the phantom is taking her right now—down into that filthy Shadowscape, the space between Hell and earth. By trickery, Lilly captured the strongest phantom ever known inside her own body. The process killed Lilly, needless to say, and her body, which is being kept preserved by phantom magic, has been the phantom’s prison for almost fifty years. Wolf, her devout and loyal lover and servant, has been waiting for another Chase woman to be born with enough power to free the phantom mistress from Lilly’s body. Kris is the necromancer he’s been waiting for.”

  I had never heard of such a thing happening before. Phantoms were never able to enter a necromancer’s body. Our species had complete control over ghosts and phantoms in a magical capacity. They could still hurt one of us in a human way, like shooting us in the heart, for example. My hand flitted over the nearly healed gunshot wound on my chest. Just a few millimeters to the left, and I would have been toast.

  Before I could badger Deidra with more questions, Rafe whooshed in beside me. He had been running so fast, there was a wall of dust trailing him, the billowing smoke, almost six feet tall.

  “What do you need me to do?” he asked.

  “Well?” I looked at the ghost.

  “Push aside the jacket and rip her shirt open,” she said, pointing at Torra.

  With gentle movements, I set her down on the ground. Her pale face reflected the moonlight, glowing softly off her rounded cheeks, making her look like a young, sleeping angel. I cursed Wolf under my breath. How anyone could hurt such a beautiful child was beyond me.

  I ripped open her t-shirt in one firm pull. Shock sent sputtering chokes of disbelief from my lips when I saw what her clothes and the dark night had been hiding. A small dagger was buried deep within Torra’s chest. Only a few drops of blood marred the skin surrounding the wound, which meant that the dagger was temporarily acting as a plug to staunch the flow of blood. It was the only thing keeping her alive.

  “Young man, I need you to get a gentle, but firm hold on that dagger.” I blinked, and she was face to face with me. “You must keep a steady hand. If you move that dagger at all, she will die.”

  “You can count on me.”

  “Vampire…” Deidra said.

  Rafe knelt down beside Torra, a grave look on his face. He pulled a stray hair from her mouth and looked up at the ghost. “I’m listening.”

  “I’m going to count to three. On three, Rush will draw the blade from Torra’s heart. As soon as the tip leaves her flesh, you must pour your own blood into the wound. This must happen the second the blade is free. Do you two understand me?”

  Rafe dropped fang and bit into his own wrist. Blood welled up from the self-inflicted wound as he nodded with worried eyes still glued to Torra’s face. “I understand perfectly.”

  She looked at me.

  “We’ll go on your count,” I said to the ghost.

  “Okay.” She hovered out of the way. “One. Two. Three.”

  With a swift yank, I pulled the knife out. Without missing a beat, Rafe’s blood replaced the steel. It overflowed out of the wound, trickling down Torra’s ribcage. The thick, dark red, life-giving elixir poured into the mortal wound. Rafe had to keep his finger inside the gash on his wrist so it wouldn’t close up, due to his
vampire healing ability.

  A minute later, Torra’s upper body shot up from the ground. Her eyes darted from me, to Rafe, and then lingered on her chest for a few seconds. Her entire face collapsed in horror at what she saw. She was sitting on the ground in the middle of the graveyard, half-naked and bloodied. She pulled her shirt closed and yanked her jacket tight around her.

  Quickly recovering her wits, she demanded, “Who are you guys? And where the hell is my sister?”

  “Funny, you should mention Hell,” I began.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  I snuck a peek over the ledge. Was I considering jumping into that nothingness? What other choice did I have? It had already been several minutes since Wolf had free fallen over it, into the thick rolls of fog that obscured my view of what lay below. My reaction to his absence was immediate; I tried to escape, but was crest-fallen to find that he hadn’t been lying. I was indeed trapped. I looked over my shoulder one last time at the locked door. There were still two rock walls running parallel next to it, rocketing straight up into the gloomy shadow, effectively closing me in on both sides. My eyes roamed the razor-sharp lip of the jutting rock. Breaths shallow, I paused long enough to suppress the tremors of fear that were racking my body, and then I jumped.

  Air whooshed from my lungs; cold blasts of wind battered the sensitive flesh of my face. I frantically kicked my legs and beat my arms. The attempt was ludicrous, but I couldn’t blame my body’s instinct to try. I continued to free fall, the beat of the wind never ceasing, always punishing, until a roar of light came barreling at me through the grey, crashing into me, sending me flying head over feet. Without warning, I froze in midair, held immobile for the span of several heartbeats. Finally, I was released from stasis and gently lowered to the ground by an unseen force.

  “That took you longer than I thought. You foolishly tried the door, didn’t you?” Wolf smiled. He was standing about twelve feet away from me, leaning on a gnarled grey tree. He had a cocky grin twitching his lips, his arms crossed over his middle.