Dreaming In Shadow (Coming Darkness Book 2)
Book summary
In a world engulfed by encroaching Darkness, the absence of angels, Earth's last defenders, spells imminent doom. Amidst chaos, Kai, debilitated and resigned to fate, and Te, driven by a fierce need to safeguard loved ones, navigate a landscape of shifting allegiances and old resentments. As they confront their darkest challenges, new alliances emerge in a desperate bid to reignite the lost Light. "Dreaming In Shadow" is a tale of resilience and unity in the face of overwhelming despair.
Excerpt from Dreaming In Shadow (Coming Darkness Book 2)
It was a god-damned miracle. At least, that’s what he kept hearing.
There had been no reason for him to fall into a coma, or to remain in one, for almost five weeks. There was no head trauma, no underlying medical conditions, no poisoning. He was a non-smoking, healthy, forty-eight-year-old man who exercised regularly and watched his diet, who had just fallen asleep on the D train on the way to work and didn’t wake up. Throughout the time he was unconscious, he remained a healthy, forty-eight-year-old man. His body suffered no ill effects. No muscle wasting. No weight loss. No brain dysfunction.
He hadn’t been the first to fall to this new disease, but he had been the first to wake with his sanity intact.
So when he awoke, refreshed as if from a nap, the doctors were ecstatic. They still didn’t have a cause or a cure, but now they had hope. As more people fell, they could tell worried family that all wasn’t lost.
While he was under, his body may have been unresponsive, but his essence? Soul? His whatever had communed and consorted with something. Not the God—he’d asked—but A God.
Questions were asked.
Promises were made.
A bargain was struck.
Only when he was fully awake did he realize he hadn’t been dreaming. Some of those promises had come true.
“I’ve never seen anyone enjoy hospital food so much. Remember when my mom had her back surgery? She swore up and down that since the operation hadn’t killed her, the food would.” Nora, his very worried wife said, punctuating her joke with a nervous giggle. A permanent “v” was etched into the space between eyes that rarely landed on him for more than a few seconds. Like soft prey at a watering hole, she sat perched on the edge of a chair, ready to take off at the first sign of danger.
He smiled around a mouth full of sublimely fragrant baked chicken. “I’ve been sleeping for a month, babe. I’m hungry!”
She flinched at the word babe. The man he was before—David—would have beat down anyone or anything that caused her such distress. But that man no longer existed. Could she see that he was different, or did she just sense it?
He’d arrived at the hospital a John Doe. Everything of value—wallet, briefcase, watch, wedding ring, and shoes—had been stolen from his unconscious body.
John. Doe. A person with no name, no past. It fit. He certainly wasn’t David Jackson anymore.
Johndoe. A new name for a new life.
The jogger glanced down at his twin shadows and grinned. The streetlights and the late-autumn moon produced eerie effects. Perfect staging for a horror movie.
Ext. Lone figure jogging along deserted streets accompanied by two shadows.
A chill tickled its way across his back and down his arms. That was good. Now, slasher or monster? Everyone loved a good slasher flick. But then again, he could have a solid hit with the right monster.
Morning jogs always got his juices flowing. Didn’t so much like getting up at oh-dark-thirty, but the results got him laid and paid, as attested by his million-dollar home near Charleston’s Battery, and the constant influx of limber beauties and dewy-eyed hopefuls he paraded through its halls. The house was nice, but the access to sex? That was phenomenal.
Movement caught his eye. A flick drew his attention and showed a fence swinging on its hinges and a tip of a cat’s tail. Another chill, along with the perfect tag line: Something stirred beneath the old town of Victoria Hill. Something ancient. Something hungry.
Monster movie, then. A disgusting entity spawned from the Cthulhu mythos! A breathy chuckle blended with his pants of exertion as a Cronenberg-esque nightmare formed in his mind. The chuckle grew to a giggle, which was followed by a stern admonishment to get serious!
A third shadow appeared on his right. This one was denser than the ones on his left. The jogger watched, enraptured, as it continued to solidify until it resolved itself into a whole person. By then, it was too late.
***
Kai hadn’t intended to break the man’s neck, or to mangle his body. But his hunger, combined with the prey’s easy capture, had him feeding with the clumsy oafishness of the newly made—fangs tearing a gaping hole in the throat, blood still under pressure spattering over tightly shut eyes, overzealous hands gripping tightly, fingers punching through thin cloth and soft skin to bury themselves knuckle-deep in tender flesh. Despite the burning heat of his embarrassment, he clutched the body and gulped for all he was worth.
Pathetic.
Those watching probably didn’t think less of him because of his lack of finesse. The weres and scavengers following him had never seen him hunt before. Rumor was, he didn’t kill humans. So, it was just as well that this kill was expedient, brutal. Even so, it still bothered him that this rare glimpse showed him feeding like an inexperienced child just finding his teeth.
It had been two weeks since the attack and sun poisoning. After being confined for so long, the urge to prowl the night was too strong to ignore. Te would have fits if he knew, but what Te didn’t know wouldn’t hurt either of them. Besides, he was out just to be out, not seriously hunting. Following the man in shadow had been fun. But then the hunger surged, and he acted without thought.
Extreme hunger and nausea were expected after sun poisoning, but at his age, that should have lasted a few days at most. This was something different. The nausea subsided, but the hunger seemed to increase. It lapped constantly at the edge of his consciousness only to suddenly, inexplicably, explode into an uncontrollable desire to devour. Te believed the hunger was a sign that he was still healing, but Kai had his doubts.
Still warm blood coated his hands and dripped down his chin when he dropped the body into the street. It took a monumental effort of will not to slurp at his mouth and clean the blood off his hands with his tongue. The hunger had receded enough for his dignity to return. He swiped his face and mouth with his sleeves and wiped his hands on his pants instead. Still disgusting, but not humiliating.
The sun would be up soon, the familiar scent of dawn had a metallic note, sharper than blood. The idea of going home was both comforting and disquieting. The Queen Anne style mansion on the Ashley River was Lucifer’s favorite. With Lucifer gone, it was very big and very lonely.
He stepped away from the corpse. Those following him would take care of it. Being a Master had its perks. Never having to clean up after himself was a luxury he’d always enjoy.
Kai slipped into shadow and headed home.
For the first time since Lucifer had gifted it to him, Kai felt claustrophobic in the basement exercise room. The air felt clammy and thick. The stone walls and ornamental sconces with their ever-burning flames felt dungeonesque. He’d been dreading coming down here, dreading finding out exactly what he’d become.
He’d chosen his favorite sword from the wall of weapons. It was heavier than he remembered.
Bullshit. I’m just weaker.
In the center of the room, he forced himself to relax into the beginning stance, and begin the first sequence.
The familiar movements of the kata once soothed, but now only mocked. The sword and its song opened him wide, slicing through any remaining self-delusion, reminding him of what he used to be.
Fast. Powerful. Deadly.
Now his body creaked and ached. Sweat stung his eyes.
Te kept saying that he would get better. But now Kai knew the big angel was wrong. All he was now, was endless hunger and weakness. His wounds may have sealed but he would never be healed.
The scar tissue encircling his leg sent a spasm through the surrounding muscles. He landed hard on his knee.
“Fuck!” Kai pounded on his betraying limb in frustration, sending shock waves through the newly bruised knee.
“Fuck!” He flopped over on the cool stone floor, cradling the throbbing joint.
Te said all he’d needed was time, but his friend was wrong. There was no coming back from this.
And it was all Lucifer’s fault.
Kai ran his hand along the rough, twisted skin on his stomach. It was numb there. He could feel his shirt sticking to the edges, but nothing else. The sigils had covered seventy, maybe eighty percent of his body. Why? Because Lucifer was paranoid. The hand moved to a sleeve-covered arm. Angry scar tissue poked jagged lines below the cuff. He had been unique. Painted in Lucifer’s love. Enhanced and shielded by magic.
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