Darker Days

Demonic.

When I hit the ground, the air was knocked from my lungs, and I felt like I’d been run over by a speeding semi. Beside me, someone groaned.

Heel of my hand crammed into my eyes to clear away the fog, I saw Lukas pushing himself off the ground a few feet from me. “What the hell?”

“I grabbed your hand at the last minute.”

“That worked?”

He frowned. “Apparently.” Eyes narrow and accusing, he added, “You lied to me.”

Wow. He was almost as good at the guilt trip game as Mom. “As sorry as I am for lying, I’m not going to apologize. This is my parents we’re talking about, Lukas. And my best friend. And a handful of innocent people. I can’t let them down.”

For a second, I thought he’d call bullshit for sure, but instead, he smiled. “You are truly amazing, Jessie Darker.”

I returned the smile and held out my hand to help him up.

And that’s when the snarling started.

“Don’t move,” I whispered. While I’d never expected to vacation here, I suddenly regretted not doing a bit of research. A few vague bedtime stories from Dad did not prepare one for a place like the Shadow Realm.

Slowly, I started to turn, but the thing growling at our backs charged and hit me like a linebacker.

And just like the last time it knocked me to the ground, it drooled all over me.

“Bad demon!” I shoved the corgi away and struggled to my feet. “Bad Smokey!”

Lukas fought back a grin. “He followed us here?”

“He’s a demon. He lives here, I guess.” When he wasn’t spewing toxic slime on my clothes or acid pee in my shoes, anyway. I looked down at my self-appointed new BFF. “Valefar?”

With a short woof and an erratic swish of his tail, Smokey bounded off.

“I guess we should follow him.”

Chapter Thirty-one

Dad was right about the beautiful. I’d never seen—or imagined—anything quite like the Shadow Realm before. Dark sky with no moon or stars, and air as thick as the bathroom after Mom—the hot water hog—got done showering. Everything had a slight sheen to it. A small sparkle. We’re not talking vampire in the sun kind of glow, but an occasional twinkle.

On either side of us, tall buildings that seemed to hum with a life of their own lined the street. Bathed in an assortment of dark colors—blues, purples, and deep reds—they towered into the sky, some stretching so high that they disappeared from sight.

We’d landed on a sidewalk beside the narrow roadway. It seemed normal. Pale concrete, complete with sidewalk cracks and spots of dead, yellowing grass peeked through. The road was a little different. One lane of oddly shimmering blacktop that, every once in awhile, seemed to emit small puffs of white smoke.

We started walking, careful to stay on the path. The grass beyond looked innocent enough, but Dad’s words from childhood bedtime stories echoed in my head. Everything in the Shadow Realm can and will kill you if given the proper chance.

Every now and then, I’d hear something—almost like a whisper. About three blocks in, I realized the sounds seemed to be coming from the middle of the road. Stopping, I stooped low and extended a hand to examine the blacktop. Smokey was in my face in an instant, teeth bared and growling.

“Okay, okay. I get it.” I rocked back on my heels and withdrew my hand. Standing, I pulled a piece of paper from my pocket. An old receipt from Starbucks. I let go and the paper fluttered to the ground, landing on the blacktop. It hit the surface, and I was surprised when it sent ripples out in every direction.

“I think it’s liquid or something.” No sooner had I leaned back in for a closer look did the paper dissolve in a puff of smoke and flame, fizzling into extinction.

“Huh. I guess that’s where the hotter than hell stuff started.” I looked down at the corgi circling happily at my feet. He barked twice and licked my shoe, leaving a trail of yellow slime behind. “I guess I owe ya.”

Smokey waggled his butt in response and trotted ahead.

The trees overhead were a serious contradiction to the lava-like roadway. Like a winter wonderland, the branches and leaves were encased in what looked like ice. Stunning, they were the only thing here that wasn’t dark and creepy. They reminded me of the branches that used to overhang the sledding trail in Penance Park until they’d crashed through the power lines a few years ago during an ice storm and had to be hacked back into oblivion.

Lukas, equally amazed by the foliage, reached for a low hanging branch before I could stop him.

With a hiss, he jerked back his hand, tilting it upward. An oozing red line leaked from the tip of his pointer finger down to the joint. The leaf fell from the branch and fluttered to the ground, but instead of landing gracefully on the sidewalk, it embedded itself in the concrete with an audible thwap. A moment later, it crumbled into nothingness, leaving behind a powdery green pile.

“Oookay, so local plant life—off limits.” I stepped back and pulled Lukas with me. “Let’s get moving.”

As if agreeing, Smokey barked once and started forward, his body almost waddling on short legs.

Both sides of the road were lined with buildings and stretched as far as my eyes could see in every direction. Some were dark with no signs or numbers on the front and appeared abandoned, while others seemed occupied. Occasionally, I’d catch a glimpse of something peering out from one of the windows. A human-like figure here, a stooped, fanged thing there, shadowed in a strange illumination. Thankfully, they were all inside while we stayed—arguably safe—on the outside.

After a while, Smokey stopped and turned with a snort. Across the street was an impressive onyx building with tinted glass and an opulent revolving door. It was bigger than most of the others, its twinkle just a bit brighter and more pronounced. It stretched into the cloudless sky, thousands of small illuminated windows covering its front. From the street, you could see people—or what passed for them here—moving around inside.

“Value Far Corporation,” I said out loud. The company my dad worked for. Valefar’s company.

“This is the place?”

“It is,” I answered in a grim tone. The black, tar-like river stretched out in front of us. “No idea how we’re going to get across, though.”

Lukas scanned the area and sighed. “Nothing to use as a bridge.”

“Too wide to jump.”

“Can you shadow across? It’s nighttime. That’s just one big shadow, right?”

I closed my eyes and focused on the other side of the road. After a few minutes, I was sure nothing had happened, and opened them. “Apparently not.”

“Now what?”

“Do you wish to cross?” A deep, velvety voice—James Earl Jones with an otherworldly twang—filled the air.

We whirled around. A man in his late twenties in worn jeans and a brown bomber jacket, stood with his arms folded. He wore a disturbing smile and reminded me of the creepy janitor at school. The one that watched the students in the hallway a little too closely.

“The river. Are you looking to cross?”

“We are,” I answered simply.

“Then it’s your lucky day, little demon. I can help you across.”

I ignored the little demon comment. It shouldn’t be insulting, right? That’s what I was. “How?”

He flashed a wicked smile and snapped his fingers twice. To our right, the tar began to churn and spit.