Night Falls on the Wicked

TEN

Darby regained her breath and blinked several times, looking around cautiously, assessing her surroundings to see if she’d drawn attention to herself. Most of the customers continued to eat and talk at their tables, only a few looked at her oddly, but they were the least of her worries. Freaking out a few customers would be unfortunate, but attracting a demon …

She shivered and waited to see if her magic had attracted one of the bastards.

After a moment, she released her breath and let herself feel safe again, relieved. Demons hadn’t found her. Apparently the cold climate had done its work, repelling the creatures. She was safe from their tormenting influence. For now.

The woman tugged her hand free of Darby’s grip. Until that moment Darby didn’t realize she still clung to her.

“Let me go,” she growled, rubbing at the red marks Darby left on her hand.

Darby winced. “Sorry about that.”

“What’s wrong with you?” she demanded, her eyes bright with anger.

If she only knew. Darby studied the woman, seeing her as she’d seen her in her vision, the stark terror in her eyes moments before was taken.

She took a deep breath. “I—I’m sorry.” How could she explain what just happened? Darby glanced around to see that several more customers were looking at her now. She’d seen those expressions before. The look that said freak. She didn’t make it through junior high school without her visions choosing the most inopportune times to strike. The seventh-grade musical, the eighth-grade Spring Fling. Oh, she’d never forget that time during volleyball tryouts. Safe to say, she didn’t make the team that year—or ever again. Each episode sank her farther and farther into social death.

The woman slid out from the booth and bundled Aimee back into her coat and hat, all the while sending uneasy glances to Darby, like she was a lunatic that might spring at her any moment.

Still shaking from the aftermath of her vision, Darby watched them, the need to do something to help them rising up inside her, overwhelming her.

Her mother had warned her about that, told her again and again that she mustn’t use her powers and attract demons. No matter the purpose. Still, she couldn’t hold silent. “You can’t go out there.”

The woman increased her movements, gracelessly fumbling with Aimee’s zipper. Darby glanced out the diner window, her chest tightening at the fading light. Dusk was nearly upon them. “You can’t go out there,” she repeated in a stronger voice.

The young mother rose to her feet and leveled a frosty glare at Darby. “You need to back off.”

Darby tried for a coaxing tone. “Look, I’m sorry. What’s your name?” Maybe if she spoke her name, she would come across as friendlier.

The woman didn’t appear inclined to answer. She pressed her lips into a thin line.

“Pam,” Aimee cheerfully volunteered, unaware of the tension swirling around them. “Her name is Pam.”

“Aimee! C’mon,” Grabbing her daughter and purse, Pam whirled around.

Darby lunged after her and grabbed her arm. “Stop. Wait. You’re in danger. Don’t go out there, Pam. I saw—I saw something—”

Pam twisted her arm free. “Freak! Leave us alone.”

Freak.

The word still stung. Even now. Even though she’d heard it countless times, it still had the power to wound. Her hand dropped from Pam’s arm.

“Darby,” Sam called her name from the counter, frowning at her.

The bell at the door chimed their departure. When Darby looked back, they were gone, diving out into the street. She moved toward the door.

“Darby!” Sam called, frowning at her through the kitchen window. “What’s going on?”

She looked from Sam and out the smudged glass door to the retreating figures. There was no choice. She had to do something. Had to try, had to help. Not about to let the pair of them get too far away, she snatched a coat off the rack by the door, not caring who it belonged to, and dove out into the bite of winter.

Their figures were already fading down the street in the lightly falling snow as they walked briskly toward the bus station at the center of town.

Darby shouted into the wind, calling after them.

Pam looked over her shoulder and then picked up her pace, practically dragging her daughter along. Darby increased her own pace, forgetting that she’d vowed to keep her head low, to never use her powers, even if it meant ignoring others in need.

Such a promise had made perfect sense at the time. Sure, she could help a few, but to what end? Potentially losing herself to a demon? Letting a demon manipulate her into doing terrible things? The risk was too great.

But this vision had struck her unsolicited, and she could not ignore it—or the chance to save the two souls fleeing her as if she were the danger. She had to help them.

As far as she could tell, no demons had shown up to try and claim her for the episode back at the diner. Her visions often acted as a kind of signal, alerting demons to her location. Apparently she’d gone undetected—or it was too cold for any demon to make an appearance. Whatever the case, maybe this was supposed to happen. Maybe she was supposed to save them.

“Stop! Wait,” she shouted as they turned off the main sidewalk. She ran harder, her feet striking deeply into the snow-caked sidewalk.

Darby guessed that Pam was trying to lose her, but getting off the town’s main street wasn’t a smart move. Her gut knotted. Not a good move. She knew it because she knew they had been in a deserted alley in her vision.

Following, she turned and stared down the narrow stretch of broken-up concrete that ran between two brick buildings.

She stilled at the mouth of the alley. Pam and Aimee were out of sight, but the alley was long. She knew they couldn’t have reached its end and turned down the other street yet. They were still here. Close.

“Hello?” she called, shaking off her hesitation. Dusk was close. There wasn’t much time. Streaks of fading sunlight colored the air. Everything was as she’d seen in her vision. The narrow alley, the dark buildings pressing close. The only things missing were the silver-eyed men. Men. They were hardly that.

“Please come out. I—I think … You’re in trouble. I just want to help. I’m not going to hurt you.”

A small whisper reached her ears, followed by a quick hushing sound. Darby stopped before a Dumpster, its odor ripe and foul on the air. A pair of pink sneakers peeked around one edge.

She rounded the Dumpster and confronted them. The mother clutched Aimee close to her side, both arms wrapped fiercely around her small frame.

Darby held both hands up in front of her. “Please. Just come back to the diner with me. Nothing will happen to you there.”

Pam shook her head, her eyes wide and fearful, and Darby called herself every kind of idiot for being the one to put that fear there. She’d handled this badly. She should have never let the mother and daughter leave the diner. Even if she had to create a scene she should have made certain they stayed far from this alley.

“We don’t want any trouble,” Pam whispered, and Darby heard what she wasn’t saying in that simple statement. All I’ve known is trouble and fear in my life. I don’t want anymore. Please, no more. “We’ve got a bus to catch.”

“There will be another bus,” Darby insisted and looked down at the girl. “You didn’t get any cake? Wouldn’t you like a slice of chocolate cake, Aimee?” She wasn’t above manipulating the child to help them.

Aimee nodded and looked hopefully toward her mother. “Momma?”

Her mother shook her head no.

“Please, Momma. Let’s go back to the diner.” Aimee’s voice quavered the slightest bit, and Darby knew she had gained the child’s trust at least.

Pam sighed. “Okay.” Her gaze cut back to Darby, still distrustful. “We’ll go back to the diner and then you can explain yourself. In front of witnesses.”

A relieved whoosh of air rushed from her. She nodded. “Good.”

Then there was the slightest change in the air. Subtle as the wind. A noise emerged. Tap, tap, tap. It took her a moment to process the sound for what it was. The steady fall of footsteps.

Her pulse jackknifed against her throat. She swung around and saw two men, approaching the same way she’d entered the alley. With a sinking sensation, Darby knew they’d been out there, stalking prey in the town. She knew that they’d seen the three of them rush into this alley. Easy pickings.

They were garbed in dark winter attire and walked with an animal stealth, their steps deceptively slow, silent as wind—but she knew they could spring like a lion in the grass. She knew because she knew what they were. She’d seen them in her head only minutes ago.

Even in the gloom of the alley, with distance between them, the eerie pewter of their eyes drilled into her, marked them instantly as the monsters she knew them to be.

There’d been four in her vision. She whipped around, seeing only these two as of yet. But she knew the others were coming. Her skin prickled. They’d be here soon.

“We have to go now,” she growled in a feverish rush of words, hoping, believing there was still a chance as long as the other two lycans hadn’t arrived.

Beyond all coaxing, she snatched Pam by the arm and forced her to move. Pam glanced at the menacing pair. Weirdly enough it seemed that recognition flickered in her eyes. Even though she couldn’t suspect what they truly were, she evidently recognized a predator when she saw one.

With a fearful nod, Pam tucked her daughter to her side and turned with Darby to flee in the other direction.

They moved only one step before two more figures appeared at that far end of the alley, boxing them in. They were trapped. There was no moving ahead and no going back.

Darby’s pulse hammered fast and hard against her neck. Her fingers dug hard into Pam’s arm. She relaxed her grip when she heard her whimper.

“Who are they?” Pam demanded in a low voice. “What do they want?”

Darby glanced around, looking for a weapon, anything to use to defend them. A two-by-four with some nails jutting out one end was piled against the side of the building with other debris. She seized hold of it. It wouldn’t kill any of them—she knew enough about lycans to know that—but it was something.

She flexed her hand around the rough, splintery wood. Maybe it would be enough to injure one of the bastards … or at least make them work hard for their dinner. Time was of the essence. Lycans had remained undiscovered by most of the world for this long because of their discretion and because they were good at what they did—kill.

She knew they wouldn’t want to mess around with them too long. Soon the moon would ride high, and they wouldn’t want to linger in the relative open once they transitioned and risk exposure.

She slapped the wood against her hand, trying to look tougher than she felt.

One of the lycans cocked his head and studied her curiously with his coldly handsome face. She was certain he turned heads and lured many to their deaths with those deep-set, mesmerizing eyes, freakishly silver or not. He pushed his hood back from his head to reveal a head full of dark blond dreadlocks. “Aren’t you the feisty one?”

Darby positioned herself sideways, looking back and forth between each pair. “We’re not going to make it easy. You better go find a meal somewhere else.”

The woman close to her head made a strangling sound, clearly frightened by Darby’s words.

“Meal?” Dreadlocks asked with genuine surprise. “What an interesting choice of words. Why would you say that? We’re just lost. Thought you could help set us on the right path.”

One lycan dove for her in a blur. Darby swung, ready. He howled in agony as she met him upside the head with the nailed end.

He staggered back, clutching his bleeding face and screeching.

One of his brethren chided, “Oh, shut up, Marcus. You’ll heal.”

“That bitch!” he shrieked, pulling back a hand to stare at his blood there. “She stuck a nail in my face!”

Dreads continued to stare at Darby as if he didn’t know what to make of her.

“Better move on and hunt somewhere else. I’m just gonna drag this out for you,” she warned with more bravado than she felt. Adrenaline burned through her veins, keeping her alert, ready. “It’s almost dark,” she reminded, jerking the two-by-four in her hands skyward. “You don’t want to dawdle here, do you?”

Dreads shook his head and announced in a marveling voice, “You know who we are.”

“Yeah. I know.” She nodded. “So get the hell out of here.”

“Oh, no, I can’t do that. You’re much too interesting. Cyprian will want to speak to you.”

Before she could blink he was on her. He was fast. Faster than the other one. Too fast for her. He wrenched the two-by-four from her fingers and slammed her to the ground. Pain exploded in the back of her head. Spots danced before her eyes and for one moment she thought she was going to black out.

The other three grabbed Aimee and Pam, slapping hands over their mouths to silence their screams.

Dreads pushed his face close, his lips grazing her cheek as he spoke. “Your scent … you don’t smell human. What are you?”

She grunted, struggling to break free.

“Hurry, Devon. We don’t have much time.”

Devon. Almost like demon. Fitting. These creatures weren’t that much different from the demons that wanted to claim her soul.

“Not talking? Pity. You will.” A warm chuckle puffed from his lips. “You will.” He hauled her to her feet in one smooth move.

She spit in his face, strangely not frightened. Not for herself anyway. She was tired of being afraid, she realized. Tired of running.

He smiled, wiping his face. “That’s not nice. Why don’t you like me?” His gaze flicked over her. “I like you. We’re going to be friends, you and I.” Her face must have revealed some of her revulsion. He chuckled. “Come.” He flicked another glance upward. “You’re right. It’s almost moonrise.”