Everdark

“No man knows till he experiences it, what it is like to feel his own life-blood drawn away into the woman he loves.”

—Bram Stoker, Dracula

“I never thought it’d end this way. Oh my

God! I didn’t. Inside, my heart feels like it’s

being ripped out, just like one of the monster’s victims.

The pain is so great I can barely

breathe, and I feel like it hardly even beats

anymore. I don’t know how things are going

to turn out, or if I’ll ever see the ones I love

again, but I will never, ever give up. I know

I’m rough around the edges, I’ve got a sailor

mouth, but when I love, I love, you know? I

took a fucking beating as a kid; I deserve hap-

piness as an adult. I’ve worked hard for it. My

loved ones deserve happiness. I used to want

nothing more than to have my mother back. I

miss her! But she’s in a good place—a place

only angels like her go to. What I want now

are my live loved ones. I want Nyx. I want

Seth. I want Eli. My grandparents. I want

them all. But I’m not sure I’ll get what I want

after all, in the end. You can bet your sweet ass

I’ll die trying, though.”

—Riley Poe

I’d ignored all calls from all acquaintances. It didn’t matter what they knew or where they could go. I knew whom Nyx was with, and he wanted me. I knew that now. I figured Eli and the others would talk to his parents and they’d all head this way. I’d told Elise and Gilles exactly where I’d be going, and what time. For now, though, it was he and I—Monster vs. Bitch. No more newling puppets.

I prayed I would win.

I didn’t change clothes; I didn’t need to. I had eleven silver blades tucked away beneath my skirt, and if it took every single one to take Valerian down, I’d do it. For spite, I wanted to plunge one of my silver blades into each of his eyes, just for making me watch the filth and horrors of his desires.

The streets were busy for a Thursday night; the humidity heavy; the brine heavier. As I pulled into the parking area for Tunnel 9, the scent of stale urine assaulted me. I choked back a gag, slipped out, and looked around. Several cars filled the parking lot; heavy metal thumped against the walls from inside, and I could hear people pissing in the toilets near the back of the buildings. I’d turned on all my senses and wasn’t about to go unarmed. My best friend was in there. My worst enemy held her against her will. He had the ability to rip her heart out.

I’d rip his out first.

I filed in behind a group of people walking in; young twenties, dressed to the hilt, completely unaware of what sort of monsters really exist. I know most people don’t believe in monsters; I didn’t for a while. I damn sure as hell believed now. I believed in a lot of things now.

Inside, smoke filled the room; smoking was against the law, but somehow, places still got away with it. The place, newly opened, reminded me a lot of the Panic Room. As the crowd jumped and moved to the music, I weaved in and out, keeping a low pro, and inching my way to a place that seemed all-too familiar. I was drawn to the back, just like at the Panic Room.

Riley! Please help me!

I heard Nyx’s voice and glanced frantically around. “Where are you?” I shouted.

The couple next to me glanced at me as if I were nuts.

In the back! Please! I’m so scared!

I wanted to run—I couldn’t. People were crammed into the club like friggin’ sardines. I pushed my way to the back, elbowing, squeezing, and just when I thought I would cut through to the back, I felt a vision creeping up on me. Oh God! No! Please don’t let it be, please don’t let it be . . .

Near the back wall, I sank to the floor, shadows filled my eyes, and I saw nothing. Then, slowly, light filtered in. Dead silence surrounded me. A familiar scent rose to my nostrils—Downy fabric softener. I glanced around. I was standing inside my old apartment, in the foyer, by the front door.

It was the apartment Seth and I had shared with Mom.

I blinked; in the very next second I slammed the door behind me. “Mom! Are you even freaking here?” Irritated, I sighed and moved to the kitchen, opened the fridge, and drank from the orange juice carton. When I was finished, I put an empty carton back. “Hey—Mom! Come on, dammit! I need some money!” I waited, my irritation growing at why in hell she wasn’t answering. Angry now, I stomped to the back, pausing long enough in the hall to stare at myself in the mirror. Thick black liner rimmed my eyes and swept outward, like Cleopatra, and grazed my angel wing tattoo. It looked fucking wicked if you asked me. Mom hated it, though. “Hey!” I shouted, angrier. It pulled me away from the mirror, and I stomped to Mom’s room and looked around. The bed was unmade, clothes strewn on the floor, the lamp broken on the floor beside the nightstand. What the hell? “Mom!” I yelled, and noticed the bathroom door ajar. I hurried to it and flung open the door. I froze as my eyes locked on to my mother’s. Hers were unseeing, lifeless. She lay in a half-filled tub of water, naked. My heart leapt to my throat. “Mom!” I hollered, in a totally different tone now. My heart slammed inside me; fear choked me. “Mom, Mom!” I continued to shout. I grabbed her by her shoulders and tried to drag her out of the tub. Her body was cold; wet, and a little stiff. Her body slipped, and she sank back into the water. “No!” I cried, and grabbed her again, this time more tightly, under the arms. I pulled, sank all of my weight onto my heels, and heaved until her body slid, over the rim of the tub, and fully onto me. We both fell back onto the tile floor.

It was then I noticed the blood.

The blood, and the rip in her chest where her heart should have been.

I shook her then, hard. “Mom!” I yelled into her ear. “Mom!”

Nothing. My mother was dead, already starting to stiffen, cold.

Sobs wracked my body, and I held her tightly, crying her name, over and over and over. I don’t know how long I lay there, soaked, my mother’s dead body on top of mine, cradled in my arms. It must have been a long time, because my teeth chattered, and my insides shook continuously and uncontrollably until the black-as- night man—my mother’s employer—pulled me away from her. My fingers wrapped around her now-dried skin and refused to let go.

“She’s in shock,” I heard a slightly accented voice say. “If she’s lucky, she won’t remember any of this, Preacher.”

“I hope she don remember, dat’s right,” the black man said. “Dat poor baby girl.”

“Riley! Get up!”

I heard a faint laugh, somewhere deep, somewhere far, far away. It was Valerian’s laugh.

I turned. My eyes widened in shock at the person whose tight grip on my forearms was pulling me off the floor.

Victorian.

He pulled me close, his hands on my elbows; he brought his mouth to my ear. “He is here, love,” he said, his breath brushing my skin. “Please, come with me. I swear to you I’ll get your friend to safety.”

I pulled back and sought Victorian’s eyes.