Touched by Darkness – An Urban Fantasy Romance (Book 1, The Sentinel Series)

by Catherine Spangler

  As she got closer, she realized his hands were secured behind his back. He was conscious, and he glared a warning at her. “Go!” he shouted. “Get out of here! Now!”

  Shock made her sluggish, but she understood the urgency in his voice. Just as she understood, with abject horror, the Belian must be nearby. But she wouldn’t leave him here, defenseless like this. Her gun was in a case in her trunk, for target practice tonight. If she could just get to her car—

  “Hold it right there!” came a female voice from behind her. “Turn around, slowly, dear Kara. No tricks now, you hear? I’ve got a gun on you. And I know how to use it.”

  A voice Kara knew. Another shock wave went through her.

  “Turn around. Now. Or I’ll shoot the spawn of The One.”

  Kara turned and faced the Belian.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Although Luke assured him he could handle the ghost if it came back, Alex avoided his room on Sunday, and sneaked into his grandparents’ bed after they were asleep that night. It hadn’t returned, though, and he felt better on Monday. It seemed safer in the daytime, especially since he was outside in the backyard, playing with a neighbor’s cat. Grandma was inside, fixing their lunch, and after that, they were going to go play miniature golf.

  It happened so suddenly, Alex didn’t sense it coming. One minute, Princess, a gray tabby, was chasing the string he was dangling. The next moment, she hissed and arched her back, her fur standing out like porcupine quills. The low, eerie growl coming from her throat had Alex’s own hair standing on end.

  He felt it then, the energy tingling along his skin. Heard the insidious whispering. Her tail puffed as big around as her body, Princess hightailed it out of there. A breeze whirled around Alex, jerking the string he held. A Star Wars action figure lifted from the ground and hovered there. Yep, it was the ghost, all right. His heart pounded like a Death Star explosion.

  He looked toward the back door. Maybe he could make it past the ghost and get inside, and maybe it wouldn’t come after him, especially with Grandma in there. And maybe—

  Maybe he needed to act like a Sentinel.

  Alex remembered what Luke had told him Saturday night: “You can’t understand the ghost because you’re listening with your physical self, instead of your spiritual self. You have to use your third eye.”

  Luke had explained a lot of stuff about colors and chakras, a word that sounded like chalk the teacher used. Then he’d shown Alex how to go inside himself and hook up to his sixth chakra and his third eye—an invisible eye everyone had! Only you could hear with it as well as see with it.

  The wind picked up, and the whispering became louder. “Aaaalex…Heeeeelp…”

  Shaking like a wobbly wheel on a Rollerblade, Alex shored up his shields. He was going to do it—try to listen to this ghost, like Mr. Morgan or Luke would. Taking a deep breath, he turned inward, as Luke had showed him. He “looked” for the purple/blue color of the sixth chakra. He was terrified, but he reached for it, felt like his head was getting bigger. The muttered sounds became clear words. He could hear the ghost!

  “Aleeex…help.”

  “Help who? Who is this?”

  “Tho—rn…Tho—rn—ton.”

  “Thornton?” Confused and disoriented, Alex tried to think. “Mr. Thornton? Is this Mr. Thornton, Mikey’s dad?”

  “Yesssss.”

  Somehow, knowing the ghost was even more frightening. His heart doing somersaults in his chest, Alex tried to stand. He wanted to get inside to Grandma.

  “Heeeelp your mommm.”

  Did the ghost say mom? “What?”

  “She’s after your m-mom.”

  My mom? Is my mom in danger?

  “Yessss. And Mooorrgan. St-stop h-her.”

  Freaked, Alex rocked back and forth. “Stop who?” His voice squeaked.

  “Ssssaaaarrr.”

  “Who?”

  “Saaaraaaa.”

  “Sara?” Wasn’t that Mrs. Thornton’s first name? Alex made it to his feet. He didn’t know what to do. “Where’s my mom? Where’s Mr. Morgan?”

  “M-my hooooouse.”

  “Mom and Mr. Morgan are at your house? Mikey’s house?”

  “Yessss.”

  “And they’re in danger?”

  “Yessss. Got M-Miiikey. Stop her!”

  Alex didn’t understand the reference to Mikey, but he understood his mother was threatened. Fear raced through him, and he couldn’t hold the link. The ghost wailed as the connection slipped, but Alex had heard enough. He had to help his mom!

  Instinctively, he knew Grandma wasn’t the person he needed. He raced around to the front of the house, down the driveway, and across the street. “Luke! Luke!”

  Luke was just coming out of the garage as Alex hurtled up his driveway. “My mom’s in trouble!”

  “Whoa, slow down!” Luke squatted, laid a reassuring hand on Alex’s shoulder. “Take a deep breath, bro, and tell me what’s going on.”

  He listened intently as Alex gasped out what had happened, and what the ghost had said. His eyes glowing with approval, he squeezed Alex’s shoulder. “Good job, young man. You handled that like a true Sentinel.”

  Pride swelled inside Alex. He had done it! He had talked to a ghost! But worry quickly took the upper hand. “We gotta help my mom. What do we do?”

  “No tough decision there.” Luke stood, pulled his cell phone from his belt clip, and flipped it open. “We call in the troops.”

  * * * *

  “Pérez.” Kara stared at the Belian. “I can’t believe it.”

  “You would never have figured it out. You’re too stupid.” Serafina Pérez jerked the gun toward Damien. “Just like him. Idiots, both of you. I’m going to enjoy watching you suffer.”

  Kara saw Damien was sitting up. Blood oozed from a nasty cut on his right temple. Even though his ankles were bound together with a length of chain, he managed to shift to his knees. His shoulders and arms strained against the handcuffs pinning his hands behind him.

  “Give it up, Sentinel. Even you’re not strong enough to break those handcuffs. They’re police issue, made of the finest carbon steel.” Serafina’s smile was like an evil caricature. “I took them from Allen Spears’s house, after I fucked his brains out. Men are so easy to fool. Easy to kill, too.”

  Memories of Richard’s death flashed through Kara’s mind. No. If only she had her gun. She reached into her jacket pocket, found the pepper spray. She wrapped her fingers around it, thumbed off the cap. She’d have to wait for just the right moment to use it. Having a plan calmed her a little, and she suddenly remembered Sara Thornton. “Where’s Sara?”

  Serafina gestured toward a crumpled form on the other side of the yard. “Such a weak being,” she sneered. “Drank so much, she ruined her liver, and what few brain cells she had.”

  She looked back at Kara, still holding the gun steady. “It was easy to control her mind, to get her to call you, and plant exactly what I wanted her to say to lure you here. Easy to make her sound convincing. And you fell for it. Then I brought her outside and…”

  She mimed shooting the gun, looked over at Damien with another sneer. “Nothing you could do about it, could you, Morgan? I know how you light-seeking Sentinels claim you can’t stand to watch innocents die. Hey, at least she didn’t suffer, not like you’re going to.”

  Kara battled rising nausea. She had to stay calm. Had to find some way out of this. She eased the pepper spray higher in her pocket, adjusted her grip.

  Serafina stroked the gun tucked into the waistband of her jeans. “Nice of you carry two guns, Sentinel, even if the smaller one is only a .38. Gives me plenty of bullets to use on you.” She glanced back at Kara. “But I’m not going to kill you, bitch. I was planning to at first, but you have a young, healthy body that I can use. And you’re a respectable citizen in Zorro, a doctor, no less. No one will suspect you of the kills to come. And there will be many more, praise be Belial.”

 
; “What’s wrong with the body you’ve got?” Damien asked, shifting subtly.

  “Serafina was another stupid being.”

  “Was?” Kara asked, wondering what had happened to the soul, the essence of Luz’s sister.

  The Belian gave that chilling smile again. The person/thing standing there looked like Serafina, with the same long, wavy midnight hair and dark eyes, the general build and resemblance to Luz. Even the nails on the hand holding the gun were a glossy red. But it wasn’t Serafina facing Kara. It wasn’t even human. There was no spark of humanity in those cold, dead eyes.

  “That pitiful excuse of a spirit is long gone from this Earth plane, an offering to Belial,” the Belian said. “It was easy to force it from its weakened body. That slut fucked any man who paid the slightest attention to her or offered her cheap trinkets. She didn’t care who they were.

  “Screwed David Thornton, right under that tree over there—the one you found so interesting, Sentinel. Even went behind her stupid sister’s back and fucked Matt Brown. Managed to get infected with HIV. Her weakened body provided my entry into this plane, but its usefulness is at an end. For that matter, so is yours, Sentinel.” It cocked the gun, swung it toward Damien.

  Kara lunged forward, bringing the pepper spray out and up. The Belian whirled with superhuman speed, grabbing and twisting Kara’s wrist. It was strong; Kara felt her wrist snap, as intense pain shot up her arm. She dropped the spray.

  “Bitch!” It backhanded her, sending her to her knees.

  Whirling, it raised the gun toward Damien, who was on his feet, jumping toward them. The explosion of a gunshot ripped through Kara. Damien! She clambered to her feet, her wrist throbbing.

  “Stay right there! Or I’ll shoot him again,” the Belian said.

  Feeling utterly helpless, Kara studied Damien anxiously. He was faceup on the ground, his chest heaving. Red bloomed just below his left shoulder. He shook his head at her in warning.

  “See?” it jeered. “It’s a nonfatal wound, and I used the .38, so he won’t bleed as much. Killing him too quickly would take the fun out of it.”

  But he could easily bleed to death from that shoulder wound. Kara watched the blood spread down his sweater. He had to be in pain, but he didn’t show it. Instead, his focus was on the Belian, his expression feral.

  Turning the gun on Kara, the Belian reached down and picked up the canister. “And what is this? Pepper spray? How quaint. As if that could stop me. But it might stop you. Let’s see, shall we?” It shoved it toward Kara’s face, pressed the discharge.

  Kara tried to turn away, but the wind blew the spray on her. Fire raced over her skin and into her lungs. It seared her eyes. She’d never felt such agony. She staggered back, gasping and coughing, tears streaming from her burning eyes. She couldn’t catch her breath. Felt like she was suffocating, as her chest heaved in a desperate attempt to draw in oxygen. Her efforts left her throat raw and feeling on fire. She couldn’t see, either, her vision distorted and blurred through the tearing.

  “Oh, I like this,” the Belian crooned. “Here, Sentinel. You try it.”

  Kara heard Damien gasping and coughing, and cursed herself for her clumsy attempt to spray the Belian. She should have known better. Still in pain, panic rising faster than she could control it, she squinted at the Belian, saw its attention was on Damien. Nothing to lose, she thought, whirling and running for the road. Maybe she’d draw it away from Damien. She’d always heard it was difficult to shoot a moving target with a pistol.

  The excruciating pain shooting through her leg proved that theory wrong. She went down in the dirt, rolling and grabbing her left thigh. Felt the slick flow of blood covering her hands. Her right wrist screamed at the contact.

  “Kara!” Damien yelled.

  She felt like a turtle on its back, helpless and terrified, as she stared up at the Belian.

  “If you move even one inch in this direction, Sentinel,” it hissed, pointing the gun at Kara’s head, “or if you try to use energy to jerk my arm again, like you just did, I’ll kill her. I can always find another body.”

  “Kara, are you okay?” Damien asked.

  “Yes. It’s just a flesh wound.” Even so, her thigh was bleeding heavily and hurt like hell. Her eyes were still burning, but her vision had cleared enough that she could see him. He was sitting up again. His face and watering eyes were red. Blood flowed from the shoulder wound.

  “What a perfect scene.” The Belian smiled again. “The two of you on the ground, injured, bleeding. Beautiful, beautiful blood. All for Belial. But it’s time to get on with it.” It stepped back, shifted the gun toward Damien. “Guess what, Dr. Bitch? You get to see your Sentinel lover die, just like before.”

  Like before? How could it know? “What are you talking about?”

  “Oh, I checked you out. Once I realized you must be the conductor, I researched you. The Internet is an amazing resource, don’t you think? I know all about your precious Richard Wayman. I know you watched him die.”

  Kara closed her eyes to block out the monster’s sneering face. Richard. His body jerking as the knife sank into him. Tremors surged through her body.

  “You remember. That’s good. The shock of seeing Morgan killed will be a nice addition to your memories. He won’t try to stop me, or I’ll kill you, too. Your foolish guilt and grief will make it child’s play to cast your puny soul from your body.”

  This was too close to the nightmare in Birmingham. Kara felt herself going numb with horror, with hopelessness. She looked at Damien. He was much paler, his face sweating, but he was still straining against the cuffs. And he was inching closer. He met her gaze, his eyes like silver flares. She wished she’d had a chance to tell him she loved him.

  “How about a matching wound on the other side, Sentinel?” The Belian aimed the gun toward him.

  “Police! Drop your weapon!”

  Tom Greer stepped around the south side of the house with Steven Smith behind him. Both men had guns trained on the Belian.

  “Drop the gun,” Greer said quietly. “You don’t want to shoot him.”

  “All right. I’ll drop it.” The Belian acted like it was lowering the gun. A sudden energy surge sent both officers’ arms jerking upwards. It shot Steven, spun toward Tom.

  But Kara had already hurled herself forward, using her good leg to kick the Belian’s legs from beneath it. The second shot going wild, it went down with a roar of rage, becoming entangled with Kara. Its arm holding the gun was rigid, as if being held in place by an invisible force. Probably Damien’s doing. Screeching again, it struck Kara in the face with its free hand.

  But Kara was beyond pain. Fury and grief drove her; adrenaline gave her super strength. Like a wild woman, she clawed at the Belian. She felt the smooth butt of the pistol tucked inside its jeans, closed her fingers over it like a lifeline. Yanked it free.

  It was hard to hold it steady with just her left hand, but she dug deep. Angled it toward the Belian and pulled the trigger. Pulled it again. And again.

  The Belian’s eyes opened wide in shock. “I’ll kill you,” it hissed. It tried to say more, but a gurgling sound came from its throat; blood oozed from its mouth. The body went into spasms.

  Blood was everywhere.

  Just like Birmingham.

  The Belian stepped over Richard’s body, his malevolent gaze on Kara. “And the woman becomes mine.” He stalked toward her, the crystal pendant dangling from his fist, reflecting the flashing lights and the blood. The knife that had claimed Richard’s life was in his other hand. “Come here, sweet thing. Treat me real nice, and I might let you live.”

  She’d gotten the Belian’s gun after Richard sent it spinning from his reach. But by then, he and the Belian had been locked together and rolling on the ground. She’d been unable to shoot, afraid she’d hit Richard. Now it was too late.

  The Belian was almost to her. Somehow, she retained enough presence of mind to realize the element of surprise was h
er only chance. She didn’t pull the gun from behind her back until the last moment. Then she emptied the magazine into it…

  “Kara! I need you.”

  Damien. She shoved Serafina’s body away. He was pushing himself toward her, bending his bound legs at the knees and digging into the ground with his feet, and with his hands behind him. She tried to scrabble to him, difficult with a bad leg and wrist, and the slick blood that was everywhere. He looked pasty white, and the shoulder wound was still bleeding.

  “Lie down,” she ordered, trying to yank her shirt open with one hand. She needed something to press against his wound, and fast. She was weak and dizzy from her own blood loss, didn’t know how much longer she’d be functional.

  Looking over, she saw Greer working on Steven. He was talking on his hand radio, so she knew help was coming. He glanced her way, and she called, “I’ll take care of Damien.” He nodded and leaned back over Steven.

  “Stop,” Damien rasped. “Reach behind me and take my hand.”

  “What?”

  He jerked his head toward Serafina’s body. “The body is still dying. The Belian hasn’t left yet. I’m too injured to dispatch it without your help.”

  It took her a moment to realize what he wanted. “Forget it. It will weaken you too much. Lie down and let me stop the bleeding.”

  “Not until I send the cursed thing to Saturn.”

  “It’s not worth it. Nothing is worth your life. I need to stop your bleeding, now.” She managed to slide the shirt off, balled it up.

  “Kara, this is my life. It’s what I am, what I do.”

  She stared into his eyes, saw his resolve. “I don’t want to lose you,” she whispered. “I…I love you.”

  His gaze softened. “Then let me do what I have to.”

  She stretched up, pressed her lips to his for a brief, sweet moment. She heaved out a sigh. “All right. But if you die on me, I’ll never forgive you.”

  “I’m not going anywhere. Take my hand.”

  “In a minute.” She lifted his sweater, pushed her shirt up inside, and pressed it to his shoulder. He winced. Leaning against him to maintain the pressure, she reached behind him, took his right hand in her left. Closing her eyes, she slipped into that other consciousness inside her. The link with Damien’s third eye clicked into place.