Текст книги "Dark reckoning"
Автор книги: J. E. Taylor
сообщить о нарушении
Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 17 страниц)
“You.” It pointed its claw. “You need to die.” The ground shook as the words rumbled from its chest.
Steve blinked but didn’t respond. The scent of fire and rotting meat radiated from the beast, filling Steve’s nostrils from fifteen feet away.
This is NOT possible!
The temperature in the clearing plummeted to the point where he could see his ragged breath hanging in the air in front of him. He shivered, his teeth chattering uncontrollably. Yet the ground singed with each step the beast took, filling the air with the stench of burnt moss. He took an involuntary step backwards, his chest still oozing from both stab wounds. As he held the dagger in his hand, pointing it at the thing, his eyes darted between the blade and the beast’s hands. It seemed like such an inadequate weapon against the razor-sharp claws at the end of the demon’s fingers.
It changed its form, morphing, altering, solidifying.
Steve gaped at Peg. Peg with red eyes.
He blinked again, his mind unable to wrap itself around what he was seeing. He lowered the dagger a fraction of an inch. Sirens deep inside raged and he brought the blade back up in response.
“You killed that little girl,” Steve said.
“She was so sweet, innocent, and pure.” It breathed and stepped forward, still taking the shape of his dead fiancé.
Steve could smell its breath. “You are not Peg,” he said with conviction.
It took another step forward and the outline of the pentacle began to glow.
Steve stared at the ground and stepped forward, within the lines of the pentacle, bringing his gaze back to the demon, praying whatever the demon did, it would be quick, but the gleam in the beast’s eyes, promised otherwise.
It laughed and struck out, sending Steve flying to the far edge of the pentacle. The beast’s claws left deep cuts along his face, neck, and chest, and burning agony ripped through his skin. He struggled to his feet and stepped back into the circle, the knife grasped in his hand and his throat closing in pain. His breath wheezed and he took another step forward, allowing his blood to drip on the sacred ground.
“She’s mine, not yours,” Steve gasped pointing the dagger in its direction.
The beast charged.
“Leave him alone,” Jennifer’s voice rang through the clearing and the beast spun in her direction.
* * * *
Jennifer gulped, staring down the beast from her nightmares. It paused, lifted its nose in the air and sniffed. A feral smile stretched across its face, revealing sharp jagged teeth like a shark.
The beast stepped toward her. “I want to hear you scream for eternity,” it said.
Jennifer froze and began to shake. This thing was in my closet!
It laughed. “Yes, I was there.” It approached her.
“Don’t touch her,” Steve said and stumbled, dropping to his hands and knees.
Its smile faded. “She is mine.” The beast reached out, grasping her wrist and pulled her forward.
“I belong to Steve,” she said, straightening her back and glaring at the beast despite the burning pain where it clasped her wrist.
“You were supposed to be mine two years ago,” it growled and morphed into the form of Tom. “I died for you,” it said.
Jennifer stared, her mouth dropping and the fear transitioning to shock as she stared into deep dark eyes. Even his voice was accurate, but the stench of burning flesh and moss yanked her back to reality. She popped her mouth closed and leveled a glare, ripping her arm from his grip. She stepped forward, shoving the image in front of her.
Her hands burnt. “I hate you!” she screamed in its face.
The beast roared transitioning back into the black form, jerking away. In its fury, it picked her up and threw her across the clearing.
Her legs smashed into a tree trunk, whipping her around and Jennifer yelped when she landed on the ground. Pain gripped her legs and she didn’t dare look at the damage. Her breath locked in her chest and she struggled to bring air to her lungs. Her mind systematically shut down and everything went fuzzy.
* * * *
Steve climbed to his feet and took a step in her direction, the pain etched in her features sent a surge of anger through him, overriding any sense of fear and he turned on the demon, meeting its fiery glare.
“You tainted her,” it said, pointing a claw in his direction.
“I guess drinking the blood of Palawion’s descendant probably didn’t help.” He flipped the dagger so he held the sharp edge, reading himself.
Its eyes narrowed, falling to the wounds traversing across Steve’s chest and face and to the blood dripping on the ground. It took an unsteady step backwards.
Steve grinned. “Yes. I read up on you. On what could send you back into the bowels of hell.” Steve pitched the dagger through the air and into the beast’s chest. The dagger sunk through the demon’s skin and it roared with fury, lumbering toward him.
Steve lost his balance, falling to his knees. In vain, he attempted to stand, but he crumbled to his hands and knees. The demon grabbed a fist full of hair, yanking him up and slowly running its claws down his back, ripping the flesh open. Steve shrieked, his voice filled with pain and panic.
“You’re coming to hell with me,” it seethed. Letting go of his hair, it raised its arm to strike the final blow.
* * * *
Jennifer saw the gun through the haze—it was the only thing clear in her line of sight. She picked it up and aimed at the beast. Clenching her teeth, she held on to consciousness with bitter determination, believing the bullet could kill the thing in the clearing. She said a silent prayer, asking God to make her shot true, and yelled, “Go to hell you son of a bitch!”
When it turned toward her voice, she squeezed the trigger. The noise and light that filled the clearing astounded her.
The bullet cut through the dark, leaving a trail of white light in its path, piercing the beast where a human heart would be. The impact lifted it off its feet, sending it catapulting through the air into the center of the black water. White light seared the blackness as it hit the surface, sending waves of clear water in every direction, drenching Steve.
* * * *
When he crumbled to the ground, the impact sent pain to every surface. He opened his eyes in time to see Jennifer’s eyes roll up into her head and the gun slip out of her hand and onto the black moss.
Pulling himself to his feet, he stumbled to her. Picking her up in his arms, he headed in the direction of Paradise Cove and his grandfather’s cabin. When he stepped out of the perimeter of Black Cove, the water seeped into the basin, leaving a muddy, murky sinkhole. The remnants of centuries of the demon’s carnage were visible for all to see.
Each step required Herculean effort. His arms burned from holding her, the torn skin of his chest and back screamed, threatening to drop him on the spot. He stumbled, caught his balance, and kept moving because he knew if he stopped, he’d die without knowing she was safe.
Please God, please God, please God.
He prayed with each step and when he entered Paradise Cove, he began to cry. Great sobs fought the air for space in his ruined chest. The path to his grandfather’s place seemed like an impossible feat, but when he stepped onto the lawn from the edge of the woods and saw the FBI lights and the central command station in the yard, he collapsed to his knees.
His last coherent thought before all went black, Thank you, God.
Chapter 44
Murphy glanced toward the path again. The gunshot had come from that direction and the team was mobilizing.
He saw Steve stumble out of the woods with Jennifer in his arms.
The lights in the yard gave him a good look at his young protégé and what he saw made his blood run cold.
Steve collapsed with her on the lawn and Murphy started running.
They were both unconscious and barely breathing when the ambulance pulled in to bring her to the hospital in Concord, and the Life Star Helicopter landed to take him to Boston.
Neither one of them saw the sunrise over Mirror Lake, just as Bill had predicted.
Chapter 45
“Oh Lord, help me get through today,” she whispered. Her voice echoed in the empty chapel. It was the first time Jennifer had been back to Brooksfield since that horrible day two months before.
She slowly pushed her wheelchair out of the small church. The cold, misty day slapped at her cheeks while her black hair hung in her eyes. She rolled toward the gravesite. A wilted rose lay in her lap.
Sighing, she stopped in front of the shiny new headstone engraved with care. A tear rolled down her cheek and landed on the rose.
Picking up the flower, she tossed it onto Tracy’s grave. “I miss you,” she whispered to her best friend’s headstone. “I am so sorry.”
His hand descended on her shoulder, making her jerk in surprise. She turned and looked at him, eyes wide with shock. She hadn’t seen him in two months, since she killed that thing.
It had been a miracle that he’d been able to carry her for over a mile, and still another that he was alive at all. Along with the broken arm resting in a sling, the only visible scar traversed his cheek, and continued down his neck, stretching under his crisp white shirt.
The tailored black suit hid the bulk of his injuries. Bandages wrapped around his torso, immobilizing four broken ribs. Angry red scars from the beast’s claws cut across his chest and back along with the multiple stab wounds, all hidden by the dark Armani knock-off. He’d cut his hair recently, shorter and cleaner than it had been in early September.
“It wasn’t your fault, babe,” he said, looking at Tracy’s gravestone. If I hadn’t called her…
“Murphy said you almost died.”
Steve nodded. “They told me I did. It was touch and go for a while, I guess.” He glanced back at her and her tears started again. “But I was damned if I was going to die and never see you again.”
“When did you get out of the hospital?” she asked through the tears.
“Last week. My parents have been taking care of me and it really sucks.” He offered her a hint of a smile. “This is the first time I’ve been in Brooksfield, though. I heard you were coming.”
Jennifer nodded. “My folks drove me up.”
Steve nodded. “I know. Your mom called.” He took a deep breath. “Why didn’t you come see me?”
Jennifer began to sob and shake her head. “I was afraid to.”
Steve turned the wheelchair toward him and knelt in front of her, trying not to wince. “Why?” he asked, his own eyes welling with tears. He had enough exposure to rape victims to know the answer, but he asked anyway.
“Because you saw, you saw everything.”
Steve took her hands in his and put his head on her knees, grappling with the mental anguish. Hot tears burned the back of his throat. Yes, he saw everything, every nasty vile thing they did to her, but it didn’t alter the depth of his emotion. He loved her and failed her.
He shook his head slowly and looked up, the tears running hot tracks down his cheeks. “I’m sorry I couldn’t stop them,” he whispered. “That I couldn’t protect you.”
“You did the best you could under the circumstances.” She pulled her hand out of his grasp and wiped her face.
Steve looked down at the ground. “I should have taken you into custody when I first realized you were in the middle of this. If…”
Jennifer cut him off. “Stop! There was nothing either of us could have done differently. If we had, we would be dead right now and that thing would still be alive.”
He knew she was right, but it didn’t stop the nightmares or the feeling of responsibility over what happened to Tracy. Steve looked up at her. “Do you still love me?” he asked, deathly afraid of the answer.
Jennifer nodded, tears spilling from her eyes again, lining her cheeks. “Do you?”
“God, yes,” he said, wiping the tears off his face. “You are what kept me alive.” He removed a small box from his pocket and took her hand. “I don’t ever want to wake up without you by my side again. Ever.” He looked at Tracy’s headstone. “This isn’t exactly the grand spectacle I’d originally planned, but Tracy helped me pick these out so I figure she would appreciate being a part of it in some way.” He looked back at Jennifer and slipped a ring on her finger. “Jennifer Ann Curtis, will you marry me?” he whispered, his eyes sparkling with tears.
Jennifer lowered her eyes to her hand and a ray of sunshine broke through the haze hitting the diamond ring he had placed on her finger. A prism of light surrounded them in the lonely graveyard. She glanced into his eyes. Tears spilled down her cheeks, and her throat constricted from the wave of emotions crashing over her.
Overwhelmed, Jennifer couldn’t utter a sound. She closed her eyes to gain control, sucking her bottom lip and taking a deep inhale through her nose.
“Jenny?” he asked, his voice laced with doubt.
“Yes,” she whispered, and opened her eyes.
Steve let a slow smile form on his lips. He kissed her gently and stood, pushing her wheelchair into the chapel. “How about right now?” he whispered in her ear, pushing her up the aisle.
His parents stood at the front of the chapel along with Murphy, and a priest. And for the briefest instant, Jennifer thought she saw Tracy, standing by the altar in a hideous pumpkin bridesmaid dress with a Cheshire-cat grin on her face. With a blink of her eyes, the apparition was gone.
Jennifer laughed softly. “Right now is as good a time as any.” She looked up at him with the first real smile she felt since the night the three of them binged on tequila and dancing.
The End
Acknowledgements
There are so many people I want to thank, first and foremost, my husband and kids. Without their patience, I could never have come this far.
Special thanks to Todd Cyboron for taking the time to show me the differences between a .22 caliber, .40 caliber and a 9mm and teaching me to shoot all three. Hell, I’m amazed I hit the bull’s-eye but I guess that’s a direct reflection on the teacher. Thank you.
I also need to send a special thank you to my son’s Jukido instructor, Master Joaquin Betancourt, thank you for your help with a couple moves outlined in this and subsequent Steve Williams’ books. And while I’m on the subject of Jukido, I need to give a shout out to Mike and the other Jukido parents for their tireless interest in poking holes in my plot lines and planting the seeds for some interesting future ideas.
Next is the small subset of beta readers/editing partners who waded through multiple edits of Mirror Lake (former title of Dark Reckoning): Allison Pang, Melisa Holden and Tamara Girardi. Thank you for your very shrewd feedback on what worked and what didn’t. I definitely wouldn’t be here without your input!
In addition to my beta readers, I have a handful of faithful readers who saw the rougher cuts of the book and offered their honest reactions: Darren Houle, F.H. Taylor, Judy Taylor, Bill Monroe, Sarah Hughes, Kathy Denis and Steve McVey. Thank you.
Last, but not least, I want to give a shout out to those not listed above that push me to be a better writer to dig deeper and I thank you from the bottom of my heart: Lynette Ekland, Ty Drago, Ryan Bruner, Margie Lawson, and to all the folks over at Backspace (bksp.org), props to Karen and Chris for building the best writing community on the web!
ABOUT J.E. TAYLOR
J.E. Taylor is a writer, a publisher, an editor, a manuscript formatter, a mother, a wife and a business analyst, not necessarily in that order. She first sat down to seriously write in February of 2007 after her daughter asked:
“Mom, if you could do anything, what would you do?”
From that moment on, she hasn’t looked back and now her writing résumé includes more than a dozen published novels along with several short stories on the virtual shelves including a few within eXcessica anthologies.
In addition to being co-owner of Novel Concept Publishing (www.novelconceptpublishing), Ms. Taylor also moonlights as a Senior Editor of Allegory (www.allegoryezine.com), an online venue for Science Fiction, Fantasy and Horror. She has been known to edit a book or two and also offers her services judging writing contests for various RWA chapters.
She lives in Connecticut with her husband and two children and during the summer months enjoys her weekends on the shore in southern Maine.
Visit her at www.jetaylor75.com
If you liked DARK RECKONING, you might like the other titles in the Steve Williams Series (available in a full box set as well as individual titles):
DARK RECKONING:
A sadistic killer stalks the secluded college town of Brooksfield, New Hampshire. With bodies piling up and rumors of the murders being part of sacrificial hazing rituals, the FBI plants Special Agent Steve Williams in a fraternity at Brooksfield University. His investigation takes a ninety degree turn into the bizarre when he’s introduced to Jennifer, a clairvoyant co-ed who swears the killer isn’t human.
Steve considers the plausibility of the extraordinary, the unspeakable, even the inconceivable when his notebook starts bleeding cryptic messages. Messages that indicate Jennifer is at the heart of the darkness in Brooksfield.
When she describes her latest vision, a trail of violent deaths, including his, Steve asks the million-dollar question:
Is Jennifer trying to help...or is she actually the one responsible?
“J E Taylor writes a thrilling and engaging paranormal horror, “DARK RECKONING”. The absorbing, fluid plot builds slowly towards its divergent terror-driven climax. As sturdy, forthright characters convey the story’s age-old message; stay out of the woods…and while you’re at it, the water too. DI do love a great horror story, so I’m adding this beauty to my ebook collection. Marking it for a repeat read too.” Pamela Jenewein – Romance At Heart Reviews
"J.E. Taylor has penned a tale of terror worthy of Lovecraft. The strong characters, edgy atmosphere and unflinching narrative hooked me from the first and kept me riveted all the way through to its horrifying conclusion – a solid piece of storytelling!" Ty Drago, Editor of Allegory and author of PHOBOS
“I loved DARK RECKONING – always had a soft spot for demon type horror/thrillers and this is fabulous. Just the right mix of terror and calm so I didn't have a heart attack while reading but came close! Excellent read for anyone who loves horror and a good love story.” Cat Connor author of killerbyte and terrorbyte
VENGEANCE ( Book 2):
Living large in New York City as a corporate lawyer for the most savvy drug lord on the East Coast, Special Agent Steve Williams carefully plots Charlie Wisnowski's downfall. His plans go to hell when his wife Jennifer survives an attack by a serial killer. With her life in jeopardy and his undercover guise threatening to unravel, he orders Charlie’s arrest. But the sting goes woefully wrong and Steve becomes the target of a mafia assassin hired by the biggest crime boss in America.
Escaping from the city, Steve and Jennifer settle back into their quiet life on the banks of Mirror Lake. Their peaceful existence shatters with a crippling loss and Jennifer’s visions escalate, forecasting a brutal assault on their family.
Armed with scant details from her dreams, Steve trudges through a litany of past connections, searching for the key to stop the course of fate.
What he uncovers chills him to the core – a brother with a grudge, a serial killer and a mafia assassin are all on his trail. The hunt begins...
“VENGEANCE follows FBI agent Steve Williams deep undercover inside a cocaine ring. With each chapter the tension mounts as Taylor turns the screws using multiple and excellent techniques to grip the reader. It’s a great crime thriller – an excellent read, it moves at a frenetic pace with multiple character threads woven through it to culminate in an explosive ending. I recommend it as a gripping read you won’t be able to put down.” Poppet – author of Darkroom and Seithe
HUNTING SEASON (Book 3):
When Kyle Winslow escapes from custody and targets everyone Special Agent Steve Williams cares about, a turn of fate brings Steve face to face with Ty Aris – a criminal mastermind topping the FBI’s most wanted list.
Torn between justice and vengeance, Steve must make a decision.
Join alliances with Ty, or arrest him and lose his best chance to catch the bastard who destroyed his family.
"Unstoppable, breath stealing, and terrifying all at once." – Cat Connor, author of killerbyte, terrorbyte, and exacerbyte.
"Hunting Season goes where few venture, mixing a compelling crime thriller with supernatural forces. The action and drama is thick and fast and I guarantee you will not be able to put this book down." – Poppet, author of Seithe and Darkroom.
