Rules Of Darkness Page 5

  I found the bright white art studio was as I left it the day before. I approached the large bay window and looked out, hoping to see Stoyan’s ass in the backyard. Nope. I checked the bathroom I use to clean up my brushes. I went to the other side of the studio and opened the sliding glass door. I stepped out onto the balcony and scanned outside. Only peaceful forest scenery.

  Frustrated, I went inside and slammed the sliding glass door with a satisfying thud. I descended the stairs and went back to the hallway. I knew he wasn’t in my bedroom, so I checked the main bathroom, then my library. Nothing. Once again, my protector was nowhere to be found. Go figure.

  Now totally pissed off, I headed back toward the kitchen, wondering if he was in the attic or the basement. But why would he go there? He must have gone off somewhere, maybe to town or something. But for what?

  Maybe he left forever? Didn’t even bother with a goodbye?

  No, I wouldn’t be so lucky. If Stoyan had gone for good, he would’ve taken his suitcase.

  As I passed the dining room, something silver and white and foreign drew my attention to the dining room table. It was a sheet of paper, the corner of which was slid under a laptop. I stomped over whisked the note from under the would-be paperweight.

  Please forgive me for not being here when you awake. I promise to be back shortly, my love. Until then, please do not leave the protection of the barrier.

  Crumbling the note in my fist, I threw it down on the floor. Who the hell did he think he was, dictating to me? If I wanted to leave, then I would damn well leave. Screw him and the friggin ghost. Matter of fact, a nice drive was just what I needed at the moment.

  I turned to head to my bedroom, then spun back around and stared at the laptop. Was Stoyan out of his fucking mind? Didn’t he know that laptops have fucking speakers? What kind of a protector wouldn’t know not to bring items like this around me?

  I picked up the nice pretty grey piece of modern technology and carried it to the kitchen. I opened the creaky French doors and rushed toward the railing, the laptop held high above my head.

  Damn.

  I didn’t throw it…but I should have.

  I took a deep breath and laid the small computer on the patio table. I’m not so immature that I’d destroy his personal belonging out of spite. No. That’s not me. So what if he and his family—and my great-grandma when she was alive—had done nothing but lie to me all my life?

  My mind shifted through all the memories from the past twelve years. My dumb ass never questioned what I thought to be my good fortune, especially in the beginning when I left the village.

  Like the nice young couple I met the day after I fled. They picked me up off the road and offered me a ride to the city in their car. And then there was the nice man I met at the train station that paid for my ticket out of the city, even giving me extra money to see me through the next couple of days. There was the young woman I met on a train heading for the border. She informed me that I couldn’t leave the country without a passport, but she just happened to know how to get one for me even though I didn’t have a birth certificate or ID. I stayed with her for a whole month.

  In my mind, I saw the faces of the countless ‘good’ people that took me in as I trekked across numerous countries.

  I should’ve known that something was up. Hell, maybe I had known. I might have been naive when I left the village, but during my travels I saw things, read the newspapers, I knew the world could be a horrible place. I kept telling myself that I was just blessed to encounter such great people.

  Oh, and these nice people I stayed with never questioned anything. They never pried into my past. They didn’t seem to notice the odd habits I kept; they never questioned why I wouldn’t step into old buildings, or avoided old objects, or why I wouldn’t go outside at night during a full moon. They never reacted to the strange occurrences that sometimes happened around me; never seem surprised that I would sometimes get stalked by a ‘lost’ person, even when that lost person tried to break into their house to get to me.

  And my hosts never stopped me from leaving when I told them I couldn’t stay any longer. They would just smile and ask me where I wanted to go. I never had any answer because I never knew exactly where to go next; I just knew I had to leave. Then they would offer me a list of people they knew here or there that I could stay with. I always ended up somewhere safe and sound.

  The last person I stayed with was an ancient old man who just happened to know the local language of the area from which I hailed, but also my people’s language. In the two years I stayed with him, he spent all his time teaching me English, math, and history. In the end, he hooked me up with something equivalent to a diploma, handed me a visa, and sent me off to America for college.

  And I never even questioned the charitable, unknown ‘sponsor’ who paid my tuition, my apartment, all of my expenses, gifted me with a vehicle, and so on, until I graduated.

  God… I was so dumb.

  Thankfully, not long after I finished school, I met a rich European art fanatic who loved my work. He pays me an exorbitant amount of money for every painting I send him.

  Or is my patron just a part of the elaborate hoax that is my life?

  Great, I thought. I’m probably a shitty artist and this is just Stylianos’ new way of taking care of me.

  Fucking wonderful.

  Leaving the laptop on the deck, I went inside to get dressed.

  I needed to get out of there.

  Chapter Six

  After I spent three hours driving aimlessly on the deserted two-lane highway that meandered through endless miles of forests, I was uncertain as to how I should proceed. After all, I had been outside Stoyan’s magic barrier for all this time, but of course, as my luck runs, the ghost kid never showed up.

  I was actually quite pissed off about that.

  I’d been waiting for the spirit to appear in the middle of the road. I kept imagining myself swerving to avoid him and crashing into a tree. Then he’d come over to my dying body to snatch my soul, and I, with my final breath, would tell him to fuck off.

  But the kid was a no-show.

  Yes, I was tempting fate. Careless, reckless, foolish behavior on my part? Yeah, absolutely. But I couldn’t seem to help myself. I was on a roll and had no desire to stop.

  My current path took me through a little town, the road being the main attraction of the community. Like the highway, the town seemed empty.

  As I reached the outskirts, an isolated cottage caught my attention, or actually, the signs in the front windows did.

  I pulled my car up outside the small house with two neon signs that read, “Palm Readings Here” and “Walk-ins Welcome”.

  Why not go inside and get my future read?

  Because it would break a rule?

  Who cared anymore?

  I turned off the engine, grabbed my purse, and stepped out of the SUV.

  A soft breeze brushed over my skin and blew tendrils of my hair across my face. I looked up at the sky. A storm was slowly rolling in, allowing the setting sun to smear the pewter-colored clouds with deep amethyst that slowly faded into smoky sapphire.

  The pale full moon was hiding somewhere behind the clouds, but that wouldn’t make it any less dangerous to me once the sun was completely gone.

  Oh well.

  But you know, now that I thought about it, the evening was totally perfect for rule breaking mayhem. I could actually break a couple of rules simultaneously.

  After I got my future read, I could ask the medium to contact the kid and find out what the hell he wanted. If he showed, then I could tell him that I can’t help his ass and he needs to fuck off. If the kid didn’t show, maybe a fallen one would. At this point, I had no problem telling demons to fuck off.

  And if the fallen didn’t show, then I could just take a nice long leisurely walk through the woods and see if a shifter came around. True, he might rape me, and kill me in the process, but at least I could tell him to fuck off too.
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  Maybe some good would come out of my stupidity—regardless of which entity I encountered. Maybe the kid would see I’m serious about not helping him and leave me alone. Maybe a demon would come and think I’m not worth the trouble, that there are already enough bitches in hell. And should there be a werewolf around, maybe he’d realize I’m not his type and my boobs are too small.

  It’s either sink or swim, I thought. I’ll either persevere and come out stronger, or die. But at least, it would have been by choice. I’m more than ready to accept the consequences.

  As I said before… careless, reckless, foolish behavior on my part? Yep. Perhaps a bit immature? Yep. But hey, we’re all entitled to our moments. This was mine.

  It’s official. I’d done lost my mind.

  I made my way toward the house, and then through its carved wood door.

  Stepping onto a white marble floor, the door closed behind me, seemingly of its own accord. I was overwhelmed by strong floral scents: Jasmine, Rose, Sandalwood, and spices I couldn’t identify.

  Had I just stepped through a time warp? Or an entrance to a different dimension? Maybe ended up in an ancient Egyptian temple?

  The room was massive, but there were no windows. I had seen them on the outside, but inside they were hidden somewhere behind pristine white walls that sported hieroglyphic designs fashioned from gold. Under each symbol, a large gold candelabrum stood, adorned with tall white candles. Every candle was lit, casting the room with an eerie, golden glow.

  Alcoves lining the walls contained gold statues of cat-like creatures reminiscent of the Egyptian Goddess, Bastet.

  Was all this real gold?

  Despite the dense, almost gaudy, décor, it was the ceiling that had me in awe. Painted to look like the night sky, it appeared as if there was no ceiling at all. It went up forever, just endless.

  I wished I were half the artist the person who created this mural was. The sky seemed so real; the stars twinkled against the inky background like a genuine night sky.

  Did one just shoot to the east? No way.

  In the middle of this exotic oasis was the waiting area, I guess. Like something out of harem, large satin and velvet cushions rested invitingly upon a Persian rug. Small wood tables dotted the area, decorated with candles and burning incense. Interestingly enough, some of the tables had magazines; the only items present to remind me that I was still in the 21st century.

  As I walked around the extravagant waiting area, I noticed the far back wall contained another engraved wooden door surrounded by a matching shelves lined with oils, crystals, powders, and other mystical items. Beside the display, a table and two chairs were positioned next to an ornate chest.

  A bell chimed, and young woman wearing jeans and a peasant blouse walked out. She had an all-American, apple pie style. Nothing like I expected. I guess I was expecting an exotic robed priestess, or maybe even an old fortuneteller with a turban and a crystal ball, rather than some fresh-faced girl.

  As she approached me, her smile faltered and her forehead creased. “Why are you here?”

  Okay? Why did she think? Shouldn’t she already know?

  I shrugged. “Um, to have my future read and maybe talk to a dead person or two.”

  “But I’m being told that it’s not allowed.”

  Great, she was hearing voices in her head. And even they were plotting against me.

  I rolled my eyes. “Well, think of it this way. It might not be allowed, but I’m willing to pay you a lot of money to do it.”

  “It’s dangerous. A Qareen might come, and it’s not safe for you.”

  Oh, here we go with the fallen. “Yes, I know all about the personal demons that reside with us like evil companions, walking in and out of life and tempting us to sin until the day we die.” I bobbed my head to the rhythm of my speech and watched the girl’s pupils dilate.

  She cleared her throat, but I didn’t give her a chance to speak.

  “I know that as our soul departs this world, the Qareen stays behind, retaining the information it gained as a witness to our life. I also know the Qareen can be summoned via a medium as they like to pretend that they’re our departed ghost to any who seek contact with our spirit. Yes, I know all this.”

  Great-grandma had taught me well.

  “If you know it most likely won’t be your family member, then why summon? A majority of souls leave this plane upon death of the body and move onto different things. It’s very rare that they journey back to this place. The odds are that a Qareen will be the only one to answer the summons.”

  “True, but perhaps the Qareen I’m looking for can answer a question or two that I have about this kid I know.”

  “The Qareen don’t know everything. And they tend to create a false story if they don’t know the answer. Sometimes they create a false answer just because they can.”

  “Well, with the information I need, I’m sure a Qareen was present for and he would likely be more than happy to share the details with us. The kid in question is a spirit, but still walks this world, which means he was probably murdered or died very violently. The Qareen tend to be present for those kinds of deaths. Who knows, maybe the kid will show up and give us an answer.”

  “So not only might the Qareen come, but a restless spirit as well?” The medium shook her head. “No, I won’t summon for you.”

  I exhaled loud. “Why not? I’m sure you have means to protect yourself.”

  The young woman gave an empty laugh. “I’m not worried about me. I’m told your spirit can be taken from your body by means other than death. If the Qareen realizes this, it will take your soul without a thought. If the un-rested spirit comes, it might try to take your soul. You’re not to touch the dead in any form.”

  “I’m not touching, just talking.”

  “They might touch you.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m willing to take that chance.”

  “Do you have a death wish?”

  “No, not really, but I have to claim my life back. If I don’t, I might as well be dead. I have to face my fears, no matter how dangerous.”

  The young woman signaled for me to sit down at the small table. “There are people who have a fear of heights, but they don’t jump off cliffs to overcome that fear.”

  I smiled and made my way over to the reading area. “They do if they have a bungee cord attached to their ankle,” I remarked dryly and took my seat.

  She sat down across from me. “I don’t know how much of a safety cord I can be for one like yourself, but I’ll try my best to protect you.”

  At the mention of protect, Stoyan’s imaged flashed across my mind.

  The medium gathered my hand into hers, smoothing her fingers over my palm. “He’s looking for you, you know— the man you’re thinking of. He’s been searching for a long time. He found you recently, but thinks he lost you again. He is near though, closer than you would imagine.”

  Wow, more mind reading. I couldn’t seem to get away from it. “How do you know?”

  “My guide told me.”

  “Is it a Qareen?”

  “No, it’s an ancient being from long ago. My name is Jackie by the way.”

  “I’m Katia.”

  “I know.”

  Of course! “So you’ll read my palm, and then we contact spirits—or demons—whatever?”

  “Maybe.” Jackie leaned over my hand and studied the lines. “Let’s see what your future holds first. Palm reading is not as detailed as the cards, but I’d like to avoid the tarot with you since the cards are keys that open the spirit world… and your spirit is so… free.”

  “Whatever works.”

  Jackie shook her head and frowned. “I can’t read your palm. I—I can’t read it at all.”

  “What? You just—”

  “No, you don’t understand. My guide saw your future before I did. My guide has contacted your… um, my guide is calling him your protector. The man from your mind. He’s on his way here. He’s only a few miles away.”r />
  I exhaled. “So? By the time he gets here, we should be done, and I’ll be gone. Just do it.”

  Jackie seemed to be growing very agitated.

  “I can’t. Your protector has blocked my gift. He uses powerful magic, old magic. My guide will not interfere. My guide refuses to say why.”

  Fucking Stoyan. Why couldn’t he just leave me alone?

  “Forget the future stuff then,” I bit out. “Can you summon?”

  “Who are you?” Jackie asked, dropping my hand from hers.

  “What?”

  Her eyes glazed over. “You must follow the rules. Don’t break the rules. The rules will keep you safe. You must follow the rules, don’t break the rules, the rules will keep you safe. You are special, you must follow the rules, the rules will keep you safe. Rules are not meant to be broken, not for you. You are special, you mus—”

  I hit the table with my fist. “Stop it! I don’t care about the fucking rules. Matter of fact, I’m about to break one right now, and then I’m going to break another.”

  Jackie snapped out of her trance.

  I rose to my feet. “You want to know who I am? Well, I’m a woman who has gifts I’m not supposed to tell anyone about. That’s one of my rules. But you know what? They’re not really gifts—they’re curses. I’m a healer for the lost, the people that this world labels crazy. I don’t use that gift, not even when the lost come to me. I haven’t used that gift since I was a teenager. I can also see unsettled spirits—ghosts that like to haunt people just to make life miserable for everyone they can because they’re unhappy. And I can sometimes see the fallen, I see their shadows.”

  Jackie looked at me with fear in her eyes. “What have you done?”

  I snatched my purse up to leave. “The second rule I’m about to break is me walking out that door into the dark night with a full moon in the sky. Maybe what your guide saw in my future was me being attacked by a werewolf on my way to my car.”

  There was an eerie groan and three powerful knocks. Then a sudden force of wind whirled through the room. Items on the shelf began flying off, crashing into walls.