Night Falls on the Wicked (10 page)

Read Night Falls on the Wicked Online

Authors: Sharie Kohler

BOOK: Night Falls on the Wicked
11.43Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Her gaze drifted to the woman in the booth, the girl’s mother. Looking at her, it was like seeing her mother again—the sunken eyes, shadowed and dim from lack of sleep, from constant worry and fear. Here sat another soul beaten and battered from life.

It was as though she had been given a glimpse into her past and a chord of empathy struck deep inside her.

Shaking off the troubling musings, she complimented the little girl, “Aren’t you pretty?”

The girl ducked her head coyly against her mother’s shoulder and played with a fry.

“What do you say, Aimee?”

The girl’s “Thank you” was barely audible, lost in the thick cowl of her purple sweater.

Darby glanced to the mother. Close to Darby’s own age, she was pale with tired and beaten eyes. The tabletop in front of her was empty.

“Are you sure you don’t want to order something?” Darby asked gently.

“No, I’m fine. Thank you.” Her eyes dipped, avoiding Darby’s gaze, as if afraid to let Darby see the truth there. That she wasn’t fine. That she was hungry but could only pay for one meal.

“From out of town?” By now Darby recognized most of the locals.

“Yes. We’re waiting on the bus. Got some time to kill.”

“I’m going to see my grandma!” the little girl piped up, bouncing in the red vinyl booth. “Daddy has a new lady friend staying with him and there isn’t enough room for us anymore.”

The child declared this openly, honestly, her wide eyes reflecting no awareness that this was wrong … that a father shouldn’t kick his wife and child to the curb for his new “lady friend.”

A painful lump formed in Darby’s throat. She knew from firsthand experience that a father never
should
do that. But fathers did. Fathers left all the time when things got too tough or the fun simply ran out.

“Aimee,” the young mother chided, color staining her wan face as she folded the little girl’s hand into her own.

Empathy filled Darby’s heart for the pair. Well, at least they had each other … and someplace to go. And maybe a helping hand along the way.

With a brusque nod that she hoped disguised the sudden emotion she felt, she ripped off the check and set it down on the table. “Here you go.” She smiled at Aimee. “Enjoy your dinner.”

Walking back to the kitchen, she grabbed a bowl from the towering stack. In one smooth move, she poured a good portion of beef vegetable soup from the large electric pot, taking satisfaction at the sight of healthy chunks of potatoes, carrots and sirloin. Sam’s soups were definitely hearty. Perfect fare in this weather. She’d eaten more than her share.

Weaving through tables, she stopped and deposited the bowl in front of the young mother. She laid a napkin and spoon down, too.

The woman blinked as if coming awake from a daze and looked from the bowl to Darby. Her thin shoulders stiffened. “I didn’t order this.”

“We have plenty of it … and we’re throwing it out after tonight, so you might as well enjoy some.”

The woman glanced down at the steaming
bowl, looking torn, the hollows of her cheeks more pronounced as she weighed the price of her pride versus the need for food in her belly.

“Go on,” Darby prompted. “Hate for good food to go to waste.” She flicked a glance at the girl munching happily on her grilled cheese, her innocent eyes drifting between her mother and Darby. “You need your strength.” She didn’t say it, but her thoughts came across loud and clear.
Your daughter needs you strong.

“Thank you,” she murmured, her voice shaky as she picked up her spoon.

With a nod, Darby turned and went about her work. She returned later, happy to see the soup bowl empty.

“That was very good.” The young mother pushed long bangs in need of a trim from her eyes.

Darby removed the bowl. “Sam’s a great cook. Especially his goulash. You ever stop this way again, be sure to try it. Will give you a whole new perspective on goulash.”

“I’ll do that.” She smiled. “Do I pay you here or—?”

“Yeah, you can pay me.”

Darby tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and waited as the woman dug into her tiny coin purse. She handed some badly creased and wadded bills to Darby. Their fingers brushed and a jolt
of electricity passed into Darby at the contact—a sharp current of energy she hadn’t felt in a long time. Because she wanted it that way. She’d worked hard, done everything in her power to make certain that moments like this were kept to a minimum.

She gasped, her entire body locking up tight, freezing motionless. Suddenly she was somewhere else. A hazy shadowland. Dusk blanketed the fading day. Snow covered the ground. Sleeping buildings, already closed for the day, watched with darkened windows for eyes as little Aimee was there, walking hand in hand with her mother. Blurry figures approached, men and yet not. Something more. Something else.

Creatures of nightmares. Eyes like glowing pewter. They moved so fast, streaks on the air.

Darby was there, a mere spectator, unable to help, unable to do anything but watch everything from an angle somewhere above them.

They sprang. Their silver eyes flashed on the air. The mother and daughter didn’t stand a chance against them. These were predators.
Lycans
. They swept the mother and daughter off their feet in a move so terrible and beautiful it seemed choreographed, something they had done countless times. The creatures folded them into their arms and whisked them away before they even had a chance to scream.

But Darby did. She let loose a choking sound. The cry strangled in her throat as she returned to herself in the middle of the diner, shaking where she stood in the bright fluorescent light, clutching the other woman’s hand in a death grip, witness to her murder. Hers and Aimee’s. Murders that had yet to occur. Murders that were going to happen.

Unless she did something about it.

T
EN

D
arby 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.

Other books

Seven Black Diamonds by Melissa Marr
The Dog Year by Ann Wertz Garvin
Calico Pennants by David A. Ross
Death on the Ice by Robert Ryan
Seattle Noir by Curt Colbert