Paranormal/Futuristic
Dark Encounter
By J.
Aug 18, 2007, 14:00

Addy cast another wary glance over her head.  A few thin clouds skittered across the moon, but otherwise the night sky was starry and clear.  Still, a thunderstorm could come up in a hurry.

        “Whatcha think, Dooley, it gonna rain?” she asked her companion.

She already knew the answer.  Her Labrador retriever feared no mail man, but was a bona fide weenie when it came to thunder; only the day before she’d had to pry the trembling eighty-five pound dog from behind the dryer in the wake of a late afternoon thunder boomer.  If the noise she’d heard had been thunder, she’d have been chasing Dooley’s tail all the way home.

Dooley whined in answer and tugged at her leash, eager to finish their late night run. 

“Okay, but you’re sleeping in the kitchen if we get wet,” Addy warned, allowing the dog to urge her toward the trees at the end of the park.  “And don’t even bother trying to soften me up with those big ole brown eyes.  This time, I mean it.  Eau de Wet Dawg is not a scent I want on my new sheets.”

Her twenty-ninth birthday loomed large on the horizon, but, all the same, Addy knew her mother would skin her hide if she found out she was running after dark.  Addy didn’t like to worry her mama, but running was her stress reliever, and between owning and operating her own floral business and lending a hand at the family funeral parlor, she had a lot of stress.  Running cleared her head and kept her sane; okay, maybe sane was a stretch.  Besides, the way she figured it, she was pretty safe.  She lived in a gated community whose population could best be described as mostly geriatric, and the park was well-lit and regularly patrolled by Harry, the trusty security guard.  Most importantly, Addy’s mama wasn’t going to find out.  She wasn’t about to tell her and Dooley, thank goodness, wasn’t much of a talker.

She set off down the smooth path at a comfortable pace with Dooley panting along beside her.  As they rounded the curve, Addy eyed the clump of trees ahead, suddenly uneasy.  She and Dooley had made this run a hundred times before, but for some reason, tonight the dark oaks seemed menacing, the shadows beneath their branches a living, breathing thing.  A sense of quiet expectancy had settled over the little park.  Her skin prickled and all at once she felt alone and very vulnerable.  She unconsciously picked up her pace, eager to get past the trees and reach the safety of the lights beyond.  The slap of her shoes against the pavement and the sound of Dooley’s snuffling seemed unnaturally loud in the stillness.  The danger she sensed was coming from the trees, she suddenly realized, running faster. 

If they could just . . get. . .past. . . the trees. . .

And then she heard it again, a growl like thunder.  Addy’s steps faltered and she slowed, tightening her grip on the leash.  She glanced down at Dooley, expecting to find the dog cowering with her ears flat against her head and her tail between her legs.  To her surprise, the Lab’s hackles were raised and she was staring intently at the trees.  Stiff-legged, the dog stepped forward and then took off, jerking the leash out of Addy’s hand so hard that the leather strap burned her hand.

“No, Dooley, no!” she shouted, rubbing her stinging palm as the Lab headed straight for the trees.  “Come back here, you stupid hound!”

The darkness swallowed Dooley up, although Addy could still hear the dog’s frantic barking.  She paced nervously in a tight circle on the sidewalk, knowing what she had to do, dreading what she had to do.  She did not want to go into those trees.

“Damn!” she swore, running after Dooley.  “Why couldn’t I have been a cat person?”

She reached the stand of trees and, after a moment’s hesitation, entered the gloom.  It wasn’t as dark in the grove as she had expected, but the trees were different.  The thicket had expanded, stretching from the dozen or so oaks she remembered, to a much bigger forest of ash, birch, elm, pine, and maple trees. She should have been able to see the lights on the path beyond shining through the trees, but instead all she saw ahead was more darkness.  The thick carpet of leaves and pine needles under her feet dulled the sound of her footsteps and the forest was utterly still, except for the faraway sound of Dooley’s steady barking. 

Cautiously, she started forward, picking her way carefully through the woods.  A few of the trees shone ghostly white in the darkness, their silver light providing a faint but eerie light.  She could still hear Dooley barking her head off at something. 

In spite of the pale light from the trees, she stumbled over fallen branches and scratched her arms and legs on briars and vines. She ignored her injuries and kept moving stubbornly forward.  If she stopped to examine things too closely – like how and why an entire forest had sprung up like a mushroom in the middle of her boring little park, she knew she’d be too scared to go any further.  Better to keep her mind firmly focused on finding and strangling Dooley.  Inwardly seething, she climbed over a fallen tree trunk, stepped into a wide clearing, and saw Dooley.  The damn fool dog was standing in the middle of the open glade barking like mad at. . . at nothing. 

“Dooley Anne Corwin, you get your hairy butt over here, right this second, or it’s the pound for you!” Addy hissed furiously.  “Dumb dog.  So help me, I mean it!” 

But Dooley knew an empty threat when she heard one and kept on barking, the sound echoing hollowly in the blackness that surrounded them. 

“Shhh!” Addy said, marching up to the dog.  She tugged anxiously on the dog’s collar, her feeling of unease increasing by the minute.  “Come on, you big doofus, I’m totally creeped out.  I want to go home.”

The dog stiffened and pulled away, growling low in her throat, her gaze fixed on the shadows in front of them. 

Addy knelt down beside Dooley.  “What is it, girl?” she asked softly, resting her hand on the trembling dog.

Unbidden, an old superstition came to mind: if you look between a dog’s ears you can see the devil.  Without thinking, Addy glanced over the top of Dooley’s head into the woods beyond.  The hair on the back of her neck stood up and her skin prickled.  Something moved among the trees, a misshapen, undulating form darker than the blackness around it.  As she watched in fascinated horror, the dark shape flowed out of the trees and into the clearing, moving swiftly toward her.  The next instant, it was upon her.  A dark mist seized her brain and her vision darkened.  As if from a very great distance, she heard Dooley barking.  Terrified, she struggled to escape the bone-chilling malevolence that held her in its grip, but her limbs felt heavy and sluggish. 

She could not move, not even when the creature stretched out its wraith-like fingers to touch her. . .   

Suddenly, a third rumble of thunder shook the glade and, with an angry hiss, the creature drew back.  The icy grip on Addy’s heart eased and she slumped gratefully to the ground, struggling to draw breath into her shriveled lungs.  Pushing the hair out of her eyes, she sat up and looked around.  The creature had withdrawn; it hovered at the edge of the trees, a malignant shadow in the darkness. A tiny pinpoint of light caught her eye, drawing her attention to a spot above the clearing.  A large rectangular opening appeared in mid air and then widened; blinding light poured into the dark clearing.  She blinked rapidly, her eyes watering in the sudden glare.  A man was standing in the door.  She could not see his face for the light behind him.  He stood there for a moment, his tall, broad-shouldered form silhouetted in the doorway, and then he stepped out.   

As the doorway snapped shut behind the man, the creature waiting in the shadows attacked. 

“Watch out!” Addy cried in warning.

Swiftly, the man drew his sword and turned to meet the attack.  To Addy’s amazement, the sword in the man’s hand burst into flame, tongues of golden fire rippling down the length of the blade.  The creature hissed and drew back in alarm, circling the warrior warily.  The man’s unwavering gaze followed the creature’s every move.  As he turned, his face was briefly illuminated in the light from his sword.  He was very handsome, his perfect features cold and unyielding, expressionless as carven stone.  Above the flaming blade, though, his eyes burned like twin lamps in the dark.

Addy felt, rather than heard, the approach of the second creature.  It flowed out of the dark woods and into the clearing, bringing with it the same rotten, soul-sucking sense of evil as the other.  The wraith raised its ragged, black wings and rose silently into the air.  The warrior, his attention focused on the creature in front of him, did not sense the danger from above.

Addy leaped to her feet as the second creature struck.  “Hey, mister, look out!” she shouted. 

The warrior spun on his heel, raising his sword as the wraith swooped down upon him like an evil, black bird.  The smoky figure’s momentum carried it forward.  Unable to stop, it was impaled on the blade.  The sword flared brighter, and, with a wail of agony, the wraith was sucked into the flames and vanished.  With a furious shriek, the remaining wraith rushed past Addy and fled into the night.  Addy swayed, staring at the jagged knife protruding from her right breast, a blade that looked as though it had been fashioned out of black ice.  As she stared down at it, the knife sizzled and dissolved in a puff of dark smoke.  A burning cold seeped from the wound into her bones.  She felt her heart stutter and then she slipped into darkness

        She woke up on the couch and knew in an instant that she was home.  The scent of the new pineapple-sage candle she’d burned earlier that evening still hung in the air and she could hear the clock ticking on the mantel.  Her ribs hurt and it felt like an elephant had squashed her chest.  Dooley whined softly and licked her hand.

“Some dream, huh, girl?” she murmured, patting the dog’s head.

She opened her eyes and looked down.  There was a large, charred hole in the front of her tee shirt that went right through the sports bra underneath.  Surely, the freaky little thing in the woods hadn’t been real?  That would be majorly weird.  Her life was quiet and boring and she liked it that way.  Supernatural woo-woo was way out of her league.  Who was she kidding?  The stuff she’d seen tonight didn’t happen to anybody.  It was just too sci-fi channel for words.

She nudged the ruined material aside with the tip of one finger.  There was an irregular, black mark on her right breast in the exact spot where Mr. Dark and Nasty had stabbed her.  She was still trying to absorb the ramifications of this discovery when a very deep, very male voice startled her.

        “You should rest.  I have repaired the damage to your organs from the djegrali blade.  You will live, but I fear some of the poison is still in your system.  You should avoid unnecessary exertion.”

        Addy shot off the couch like she’d been bitten.

“Who the hell are you?” she shrieked, staring at the strange man in her living room.

He was tall and powerfully built, with wide shoulders and a broad chest that tapered down to a lean waist and hips.  His long, muscular legs were encased in tight-fitting black breeches and he carried a sword in a sheath across his back.  He was, quite frankly, the handsomest man Addy had ever seen.  He was also a complete stranger and he was standing in her living room.

“I am Brand,” he answered without inflection.  “I am one of the Dalvahni and I hunt the djegrali.”

“Of course you do,” Addy muttered.  The guy was obviously a nut case.  Real movie star material, with his shoulder-length black hair and disturbing green eyes, but a wack job nonetheless.  She swayed dizzily and grabbed the back of the couch for support.  “That would explain the flaming sword and the medieval get-up you’re wearing. No problem, I’m a broad-minded kind of girl.  To each his own, I always say.”  She flapped a hand in the general direction of the door.  “Nice meeting you, Mr.. . . uh. . . Brand.    Now, if you don’t mind, I’m a little freaked out here.  I’d like you to leave.”

“I can not leave.  The djegrali that attacked you will come back.  You are unprotected.”

“I appreciate the thought, I really do,” she gasped, hanging on to the couch for dear life.  She closed her eyes briefly as the room began to spin.  “But I’ll be fine.  Really.  I have Dooley to guard me.”  

This guy was something else, and his superior attitude was really starting to tick her off.

“The animal is a dog and, yeah, I mean her.”

“I can not allow it,” he said with the same irritating calm.  Dooley, the traitor, ambled across the room and sat at the man’s feet, gazing up at him in adoration.   “She would not be able to defend you from the djegrali.”

“Can not allow-” she began angrily, then stopped and drew a deep breath.  She was obviously dealing with a lunatic.  The guy thought he was a demon chaser, for Pete’s sake.  He wouldn’t leave and she couldn’t run.  She was too woozy to make it to the door.  The best thing to do was to remain calm and not set the guy off.  Besides, the spike in her blood pressure only made the dizziness worse.  “Okay, I’ll bite.  What exactly is this juh whats-a-doodle you keep talking about?”

“The djegrali are demons.”  He raised his brows when she stared at him blankly.  “Evil spirits.  Creatures of dark-”

“I know what a demon is,” she said impatiently.  “Not that I’m saying I believe you, mind you, but just for grins and chuckles, let’s say this demon business is for real.  What’s it got to do with me?”

“The demon has marked you.  He will return.  He will be unable to resist.”

“Oh, great, I’m irresistible.  Just my luck he’s the wrong kind of guy.  Well, if your demonic little buddy returns, don’t worry, I’ve got a gun.  And, like any good Southern girl, I know how to use it, so you can leave.”  She waved her hand toward the door again.  “I’ll be fine.  If this demon fellow shows up, I’ll blow his raggedy butt to kingdom come.”

The corner of his lips twitched and, for a moment, she thought he might actually smile. 

“You can not kill a djegral with a mortal weapon.” 

“I’ll rush out first thing tomorrow morning and get me one of those flamey sword things, I promise.”

Again, the lip twitch.  “That will not be necessary.  I will protect you.”

“Oh, no, you won’t!”  Addy declared, straightening with an effort.  Her chest still hurt like a son-of-a-bitch. “I’d never be able to explain you to my mama.”

“This mama you speak of, would this be the female vessel that bore you?”

“Yeah, but I wouldn't call her a vessel to her face, if I were you.”  “You fear her?”

Addy rolled her eyes.  “Are you kidding?  The woman scares the crap out of me.    Thirty-two hours of labor, and don’t you ever forget it,” she mimicked.  You owe me.  Big time.”

The eye-rolling thing was a mistake, because the room started to spin again.

“The mama will not be a problem,” he said.

“You’re darn tootin’ the mama won’t be a problem, ‘cause you’re not going to be here!” 

She took two steps away from the couch and felt her knees buckle.

One second he was across the room leaning against the wall, looking all bored and aloof, and the next second she was in his arms.  She closed her eyes as she was lifted against his hard chest.   The man sure had muscles, she’d give him that.

“You will recline, at once,” he said sternly.

Okay, muscles and a few control issues.    

She opened her eyes as he lowered her gently to the couch and saw a grimace of pain flash across his features.  It was the first expression of any kind she’d seen on his face, unless you counted the twitchy lip thing.  The man could give a cigar store Indian lessons in being stoic.

“You’re hurt!” she said, catching him by the wrist as he started to rise.  “That juh-ball thingy hurt you.”

He grew still, staring down at her fingers wrapped around his wrist. 

“The djegral did not injure me,” he said softly.  “It is your touch that disturbs me.”

She stiffened and pulled away.  “Well, excuse the hell out of me.”

He caught her hand.  “You misunderstand me.  You do not repulse me.” 

He knelt down beside her.  Placing his fingers under her chin, he gently tilted her face.  Addy stifled a gasp.  Who was this guy?  The merest touch from the man and her breasts tingled and she felt all hot and wobbly inside.  What was the matter with her?    

“Look at me,” he commanded in a voice like whiskey and smoke. 

She shivered and raised her eyes to his face.  He stroked her cheek with his thumb, a rapt expression on his face.  His thumb drifted lower, brushing her lower lip.  “You must be patient with me, Adara Jean Corwin.  The Dalvahni do not experience emotion; it would be superfluous.  We exist for one purpose and one purpose only: to hunt the djegrali. For ten thousand years, that has been my objective, until now.”

“Ten thousand years, huh?” she gasped, resisting the urge to scrape the pad of his thumb with her teeth.  No doubt about it, she was in hormonal melt down. “Sounds boring.  You need to get out more, expand your horizons.”

“Earth is only one of the realities the Dalvahni hunt in search of the djegrali.”

Oh, brother, too bad. He was paying a visit to schizoid-land again.  Then the impact of his words percolated through the haze of lust that had her brain and her body on fire.   

“Hey, wait a minute, you know my name!  I never told you my name!”

“The animal you call Dooley informed me of many things, including how to find this dwelling.”

“Dooley, huh?  Funny, she’s never said a thing to me in four years.”

She tried to sit up and he put his hand on her shoulder. 

“You will not rise,” he said calmly. 

“Oh, yeah? That’s what you think, Bub.”

She pushed at his arm, but it was an exercise in futility.  The man was built like the proverbial brick outhouse.

His hand slid over her abdomen and down her running shorts to her legs.  She froze.  His hand felt hot against her bare skin.

“Dooley, come here,” he said quietly. 

The dog rose obediently and trotted over to the couch. 

Addy shivered.  He was tracing an intricate pattern with his fingers along the skin of her inner thigh.  She wanted to arch her hips against his hand. Crazy or not, the guy really got her going.

“Speak, Dooley,” he said, his eyes never leaving Addy’s face.

To Addy’s astonishment, the dog spoke.  “I LOVE YOU, ADDY, LOVE YOU, LOVE YOU, LOVE YOU,” Dooley panted.  Flinging up a back paw, she scratched her ear.  “CAN I HAVE THAT CHICKEN LEG THAT’S IN THE COLD BOX?  HUH?  CAN I, CAN I, CAN I?”  Her head snapped around.  “OH, LOOK, THERE’S A BUG!”

There was a long moment of silence as Addy gaped at the dog in shock. Slowly, she raised her eyes to Brand’s. 

“Who are you?” she demanded.

A slight crease appeared between Brand’s brows and the expression in his green eyes was puzzled.

“Until tonight, I thought I knew,” he said.

Lowering his dark head, he kissed her.