Darker Days

Something began to rise from the muck. Something pale and long. A concrete path. Wide enough for a single person, it went from our end all the way to the other. “It’s my job. Think of me as the Ferryman…” He twirled around, then bowed. “Only with a bit more style.”

Lukas started forward. He made it to the edge of the sidewalk when the man grabbed his arm.

“Of course, you’ll need to pay the piper.”

“Pay?” Lukas pulled his arm free. “Money?”

The man shook his head and laughed. “Unnecessary. A small token will do.”

“A small token,” I repeated carefully.

“A strand of your hair.”

“That sounds—innocent,” Lukas said with a shrug. “Strange, but innocent.”

“Anything but.” I narrowed my eyes. “A strand of hair can do a lot of damage in the wrong hands.”

The man shrugged and took a step closer. “I could take it from you. At least if you give it willingly, you get to cross the road.”

“Why do you want it?”

He waggled an unnaturally long finger and clucked his tongue. “Would you believe I like the way it smells?”

Without hesitation, I pulled a strand free. I knew this was a bad idea. Epically stupid, even. But I needed to get my parents away from Meredith. And to do that, I needed to get across that road to Valefar. And apparently, to get across the road, I had to give in to this guy’s freaky Pantene fetish.

Smiling, he took the hair and waved us ahead. “Carry on.”

Without looking back, I stepped onto the concrete bridge and started across. The road was longer than it looked. Much longer. It took us close to ten minutes to walk across. Each time it seemed we were coming to the middle, the path ahead shimmered and stretched.

The further we got from the edge, the noise I’d heard earlier, the faint whispering, grew louder. Suddenly, they didn’t sound so much like whispers, but screams.

“What’s that?” Lukas stopped and pointed.

In the road—water—the stuff I’d thought was white smoke rising from the surface was something else.

“Are those—” He sounded sick.

I couldn’t blame him. Closer now, we could see the shape of the white puffs rising from the black surface. Faces. People. And those whispers? Not so much whispers as screams for help.

“Souls, I’d guess.” A white puff rose from the blackness a few feet from the bridge. A woman’s face, her mouth open in a scream that sent the tiny hairs on the back of my neck twitching, floated up to knee level, then dissipated in a soft pop. I shuddered and tugged at Lukas’ sleeve. The less time we spent here, the better it would be for my sanity. “Let’s keep moving.”

When we finally made it to the other end, my feet were starting to hurt.

“This is it.” We stood in front of the tinted glass revolving door. Something inside me stirred. Dual voices in the back of my head fought each other. One screaming for me to push forward—that this was where I’d been destined to end up. The other telling me to turn around. That once I stepped over that threshold, there was no turning back.

If it’d been anyone other than Mom, I would have gone with voice number two. She’d kept me away from Dad’s side of the family for a reason—and I trusted her. But her involvement trumped everything. The prize went to voice number one as I stepped up to the spinning glass door and tucked myself inside.

The lobby wasn’t what one would expect to see in hell—on first glance. Bustling and bright, the walls were bathed in a crisp coat of white paint and the soft, beige carpet was in pristine condition.

A bubbly blond woman sat behind a massive semicircle desk on the other side of the room, armed with a smile and teeth so white they almost sparkled. She was chatting with a tall man in a black pinstriped suit and a leather briefcase.

That was all on first glance.

We stepped up to the desk and the room flickered. It was like someone had flipped a switch. Suddenly, the white walls were blackened and stained with something that looked suspiciously like dried blood. There were things stuck to the wall in places—chunks of something. I couldn’t make out what, and I didn’t really want to. The beige carpet was thread bare and burned, still smoking in some places. The receptionist was no longer a blonde with a cheerful smile, but a stooped, hairless thing with black skin and squinty blood-red eyes. When it smiled, it bared several rows of sharp, decaying teeth that dripped slimy black liquid. The stuff pooled at its pointed chin for several seconds before falling with an audible plop to the desk below.

The desk itself was a thing of horror. Made of bone and skin and oozing blood. The goo trickled down the sides, collecting on the floor by the base of each leg. To the left of the receptionist sat a large pinkish, purple glob. It gave a wet squishing sound as the creature picked it up and took a large bite, bits slipping down its chin and mingling with the black slime.

I bit down on the inside of my cheek to keep from crying out in surprise—and terror. Cool. I had to play it cool. Demons were a lot like dogs. They could smell fear. Squaring my shoulders, I took a deep breath and hoped my voice didn’t shake too bad. “I’m here to see Valefar.”

Like a mega rubber band, the nightmare snapped back to the previously pristine room. There was no way Lukas had seen what I had. He’d be freaking. Hell, I was freaking. Acid churned in my stomach, and I was having a hard time not screaming out loud.

“And do you have an appointment?” Her voice was deceptively sweet, and even though the illusion was back in place, I could still hear the wrongness. The off-pitch canter and the slight, nearly unnoticeable warble.

Craps. “I don’t, actually.”

The creature shook its head. Blond curls bounced back and forth as ruby lips turned downward. “I’m sorry, then. He’s a very busy guy. I can take your name and see if he has time to squeeze you in?”

Wasn’t she a helpful little monster? “Darker. My name is Jessie Darker.”

The room flashed again. White. Black. White again.

The receptionist grinned. “Well, then. There’s always time for a Darker.” She pointed to the doorway behind her desk. “Through that door. His office is on the top floor.”

Lukas took my arm and started to lead me around the desk. The blonde’s hand shot out. “Afraid not, hunny bun. She goes up. You stay down.”

“No way,” I said. “He comes with me.”

She rolled her eyes. “If you want up, then you’re going alone.” She turned to Lukas and winked. “He’ll be fine here with me. Stained mortals are just too yummy for words.”

Oh. Yeah. Because that made me feel better. “He’ll be safe?” Because if she gave me her word, then Lukas would be fine. She wouldn’t be able to hurt him.

The receptionist nodded with a little too much enthusiasm.

“From you and anything else that might come across him, right?”

She flashed a mock frown. “You know your stuff. You have my word. He’ll be safe.”

I pushed open the door and stepped through. As it closed behind me, I heard her mumble, “Spoilsport.”

Chapter Thirty-two

The elevator opened to a sprawling hallway lined in red and gold. I waited for the room to shimmer like the lobby, but thankfully, it didn’t happen. I was sure the pristine carpeting and flawless paint job wasn’t real—just a glamour to put people at ease. But honestly? It wasn’t really working.

Forty-seven. That’s how many steps it took to get to the end of the hall. And to Valefar’s door.

Twenty-two. That’s how many times I thought about turning back and heading home to try finding another way.

And sixteen. That’s how many deep breaths I took as I stood in front of the door, trying to gather the guts to knock. But it wasn’t necessary. As I raised my hand, the door creaked open and soft light spilled into the hall.