Shadow's Turning- Part 5

I don’t know what I’d expected the inside to look like- maybe an office like the signs on the other buildings suggested.

Instead, it was a comfortable living room and bar area, running heavily toward leather and dark wood.  The only light was from some dim sconces placed around the room.  After the bright light of the sun outside, the dim interior was a welcome relief to my smarting eyes.

I turned toward Birch, rubbing my hands nervously on my jeans.

“Have a seat,” he said, gesturing toward the plush couch.

I perched on the end of it, not wanting to sink in too far.  He opted to lean against the bar, his arms folded across his chest as he considered me.

When I didn’t start talking right away, he cocked his head, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“Why did Mindy send you here?” he asked finally.

I eyed the distance to the front door.  I would have to pass directly in front of him to reach it if things went south.

I jerked my gaze back to him as he moved to sit down on the armchair across from me.  Leaning back, he clasped his hands behind his head.

“Better?” he asked without a hint of humor.

I had a clear shot to the door now.

I nodded.  But when I opened my mouth to tell him why I was here, nothing came out.

“If Mindy sent you here, I know it’s something bad,” he said quietly.

I searched his eyes and found only a mild curiosity in them.  For some reason, that relaxed me enough to talk.

“I didn’t make it inside in time last night,” I said carefully.

He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, but didn’t say anything.

“And now…something is definitely wrong,” I squeezed out.

A long minute passed before he heaved a sigh and sat up, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his thighs.  His hair shadowed his eyes as he stared down.

He looked up as if something had caught his attention and his eyes focused somewhere above my left shoulder.

Alarm sent a shot of adrenaline racing through me.

I twisted in my seat to look behind me.

And stared up at another man’s strong, chiseled face, his eyes so blue I couldn’t mistake their color even in this light.  His blond hair was cut close on the sides, almost shaved, the top left a little longer, the hint of curl probably explaining why he kept it so short.

“Who are you?” I asked warily, shooting to my feet and taking a step toward the bar so I could keep them both in sight.

Birch slowly got to his feet.  Once he was standing, I realized the blond guy was a couple of inches taller, with the same muscular build, though his was a little sleeker.  He was also dressed less casually, in a nicely fitted pair of gray slacks and a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up.

“James, this is…”

Birch trailed off as he realized I hadn’t given him my name.

“Sara Evans,” I filled in automatically.  Then I cursed myself for not coming up with a fake name.

“And this is James Lieson.  My business partner.”

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Evans,” Lieson said after a slight pause, his gaze going to Birch, a question in his eyes.

“She got caught out last night,” Birch said.

“Ah,” James said, his eyes sharpening on me.  “Well, then.  Ms. Evans, we must insist that you stay here with us, at least for the night.”

I took another step back and he took one smoothly to the side, blocking the way to the door.

“It’s for your own protection,” Birch said soothingly, taking a step toward me.  “Calm down.  We can explain.”

“Then do it.  Quickly,” I said, moving until my back touched the cool counter.

“Alright.  Let me ask you this.  Do you honestly think you’re the only one who has ever been caught outside after sunset and returned?”

I opened my mouth to respond, but then shut it.

“The vast majority of people who don’t make curfew never come back.  That part is true.  But there’s a small percentage that does.  Most of them are fine.  Well, physically at least.  PTSD isn’t uncommon.”

“Wait,” I interrupted.  “I think I would have heard of this.”

If it hadn’t happened to me, I would never have believed it.  As it was, I was struggling.

“Do you think those people want to advertise it?  Mostly, they want to forget it ever happened.  And it’s better if everyone else doesn’t know who they are,” Lieson replied.

I had a flashback to Mindy’s reaction.

“Then there’s that sliver of people who come back different.  Altered.  There have only been a couple of confirmed cases, and a few more suspected ones.  One thing we know for sure- it’s not a good idea to have you staying in a building with other people.  Not until after we can…assess the situation,” Birch said, his face serious.

Knowing I wouldn’t like the answer, I asked anyway.

“Why?”

Lieson and Birch exchanged a glance.

“They might not survive.”

Shadow's Turning- Part 4

Chapter 3

I kept my arms close to my sides as I walked the few blocks to the address Mindy had given me, making sure to walk toward the outside of the flow of traffic, near the road.

And away from any stray charms.

The park was in the middle of the city, shaded with the synthetic leaves attached to the facsimiles of trees that were installed there.  Real trees would not only be too pricey, but would have to be guarded continuously.

Which would pretty much defeat the point of having a public park.

At least the grass was real.

I looked down at the card to verify the number.

It was a discrete brick front building on a narrow plot of land, the real estate here so expensive I knew even that much cost a pretty penny.

The buildings on either side were just far enough away to be in line with building regulations.  One was a lawyer’s office, the other a dentist’s.

This one was not so clearly marked.

Or marked at all.  The only reason I knew it was the right place was because it fell between the numbers on the buildings on either side.

Stepping out of the crowd, I opened the waist-high gate and climbed the short steps up to the heavy metal door.  When I couldn’t find a doorbell, I finally settled for giving the smooth metal surface a few firm knocks.

I waited, not hearing anything from inside.

I pulled off my sunglasses as I looked around the small landing trying to figure out what was niggling at the back of my mind.  Something was just a little off…

The door swung open, cutting off my train of thought.

I took an involuntary step back.

Physically, he wasn’t overly tall, around six feet.  Though all of it was hard with muscle from what I could see.  His biceps strained the sleeves of the olive green t-shirt that stretched over his broad shoulders.  Black jeans outlined the taught muscle of his long legs and my eyes stopped at his feet, which were startlingly bare against the dark wood of the floor, the smooth brown skin in mellow contrast to it.

I looked back up to the baleful glare that had first made me step back, the light brown eyes tinged with a hint of red piercing under the dark slashes of his eyebrows.

The dark shadow of a beard framed a full mouth and his nose was strong with the slightest hook to it.  It gave his face a smoldering sensuality that I’m sure turned heads.

With his darker coloring, I would have expected his hair to be black, but it was a silky brown a couple of shades lighter than his eyebrows and eyelashes and a few shades darker than his skin.  It was long enough to fall over his high forehead and brush his eyes.

He ran his hand impatiently through his hair, shoving it back and giving me a flash of a dark tattoo peeking out from the bottom of his sleeve.

“Yes?  Do you want something?” he said brusquely, his eyes moving behind me to scan the street.

“I’m looking for a Simon Birch?” I asked hesitantly, suddenly unsure whether Mindy had been trying to be helpful at all.

Those unnerving coppery eyes shot back to me as he took a closer look, eyes quickly scanning me.

He raised a brow.

“Mindy gave me your address.  She said you might be able to help me,” I said, taking another step back.  “But I think she might have made a mistake.  I’m sorry to have bothered you.”

I flashed him an insincere smile and turned to step down.

A large hand clamped down on my shoulder.

“Wait.  Come in.”

I turned back to him and he let go, no longer giving me that glare, though he still didn’t exactly look welcoming.  The doorway behind him led into a dark interior the light didn’t quite penetrate.

I wasn’t reassured, but I had nowhere else to turn.

He followed me in, close enough that I could feel the heat of his body along my back.

Closing the door, he shut out the bright light of day.  I twitched a little at the snick of the lock sliding into place.

Shadow's Turning- Part 3

***Sorry for the delay- was busier than expected.  Got diverted writing paranormal erotic shorts under the pseudonym Dawn Wilder, in case anyone's interested in checking those out.  Hopefully, I can stay on track this time :).***

I woke up a few hours later, feeling only slightly better.

Forcing myself off the bed, I staggered into the bathroom to take a shower.  Feeling somewhat more revived, I squeezed myself into the only clean pair of jeans I had left.  They felt like they were strangling the blood flow to my lower half, which was why I only wore them when nothing else was left.

I pulled on a t-shirt and shoved my feet into sneakers, grabbing my keys and pushing some cash into one of the pockets.

Locking the door behind me, I walked over to the elevator.  I heard a door shut in the hall as I waited, and then the sound of shuffling feet.

Mrs. Hendrix turned the corner, using her walker for support.

“Hello, Sara.  Where were you last night?”

Mrs. Hendrix was a world-class busy body, though she tried to hide it under a sweet old lady façade.  She certainly looked the part.  Her pretty dark skin was only lightly lined, her snowy white hair always perfectly set in the curled cap that was so popular after a certain age.  She liked to dress in velour jogging suits tending toward pastel colors.

Today’s was a pale yellow.

“Out,” I said with a strained smile, urging the elevator to hurry up.  I wish I’d taken the stairs.

She squinted at me suspiciously before smiling at me sweetly.  The smile didn’t match the greedy look in her eyes.  She probably smelled some gossip she could impart to her equally nosy group of friends.

The ding of the elevator’s arrival was a welcome distraction, though now I had to be stuck in an enclosed space with her.

I held the doors open as she slowly inched in next to me.  They closed smoothly behind her.

“Would you mind taking my trash out tonight, dear?”

I was tempted to say no because it was probably just another opportunity for her to pump me for some information, but…

“Sure,” I said resignedly.

Luckily, her daughter was waiting in the lobby so I was able to escape her presence.  I swallowed the urge to ask her why she never took out her mother’s garbage.

I had more important things to worry about at the moment.

I entered the bright light of the day, squinting.  Was the sun brighter?  I fumbled for the sunglasses I habitually slipped into the collar of my shirt.  Better.  At least my eyes didn’t want to water anymore.

The same streets that had seemed so ominous by the fading light of day were welcoming and busy.  Everyone was focused on what they had to get done before sundown, but fear wasn’t really a big issue.

We’d become somewhat desensitized to it.

I didn’t know anything different, though my grandparents’ generation grew up in a time when the biggest threat they feared in the dark was a mugging.

Then things changed.

It happened gradually.  Nobody really knew why.

Missing persons reports began increasing.  At first, the change was subtle, so people thought maybe there was a new serial killer on the loose.  Police warned citizens to keep their doors and windows locked.  To avoid going out at night alone.

But the numbers kept climbing.  And the problem wasn’t localized.  Reports of a spike in unsolved missing person cases started coming in from around the world.

And then people started seeing things.

Eyes in the shadows.  People vanishing in full view of others.  Panic set in.

The police and the military tried to fight back, but whole squadrons would go missing in one night.  Roughly half of the human population was wiped out in a matter of months before it was decided we needed to move to defense.

The streets became deserted at night.  Whatever they were, they were nocturnal.

That’s when people started going missing from their homes.

Every form of religious symbol was used to try to protect ourselves.  None of them worked.

Until some did.

Homemade symbols created by a small segment of the population seemed to actually work.  There was a hereditary aspect to it, judging by the fact that it tended to run in families.  And those few soon figured out that it wasn’t the type of symbol that mattered, just that the intent was there during its creation.

And the wooden ones seemed to work best.

Charms became a booming business.

Everyone had them.  Some of the extremely wealthy even had entire houses armored with massive charms.  The price of quality wood sky-rocketed.

I looked up to see I’d crossed over into the Charm District.

It didn’t seem like much from the outside, the little red awning and crowded windows not exactly high-class.  But Mindy was one of the best.  She would probably be able to move into the higher-end area a couple of blocks down in another year or so.

At which point I probably wouldn’t be able to afford her anymore.

The little bell tinkled merrily as I let the door swing shut behind me.

The interior was dimly lit and crowded, every available shelf and wall covered in merchandize.  The pleasant scent of freshly carved and sanded wood saturated the air.

“Just a minute!”

I wandered over to take a closer look at a charm carved into the shape of what appeared to be a teddy bear.  I caught myself right before I was about to touch that deceptively soft looking belly.

“Sara!  How are you?  Looking for anything in particular?”

Mindy was maybe five feet tall and a hundred pounds soaking wet.  She was an interesting mix of Asian and Nordic ancestry, her hair gleaming white blonde and a distinct Japanese slant to her eyes.  She also had more energy than any one person should.

Just watching her flit around was exhausting.

“Hey, Mindy.  I was actually wondering if I could talk to you in the back,” I asked, looking around nervously.  The store looked empty, but I couldn’t see the whole interior at a glance.  There were dozens of nooks and crannies people could hide in.

“In the back?”  Mindy hesitated, her usually animated face going still as she gave me a long look.

I could see her weighing the possibilities.  I’d never asked for a private meeting before, and I knew I hadn’t disguised my nervousness well.

The fact that I looked like I’d pulled an all-nighter didn’t help either.

“Follow me.”

She turned and led me to the back store room/office space.  She dragged a heavy doorstop away so that she could shut the door behind us.

Gesturing to the beat up chair across from the dented metal desk, she settled into the patched up leather swivel chair on the other side.  Leaning forward, she folded her arms on the dull surface, giving me an expectant look.

“Do you have any charms nearby?” I asked.

She raised an eyebrow, but leaned down to pulled open one of the desk drawers with a grating squeal.  Rummaging around, she sat back up with a small sunburst pendant hanging from a chain.  Setting it down with a light clinking sound, she pushed it over to me.

I took a fortifying breath, feeling her curious gaze focused on me.  Reaching out, I settled my hand palm-down directly on top of the charm.

At first, nothing happened.  I almost breathed a sigh of relief.  Maybe it had been a freak occurrence…

Flash.

The charm lit up under my hand, bright white light shining out between my fingers.

With a startled yelp, I yanked my hand back, waving it around in an attempt to cool it off.  Turning it around, I saw that I now had a little sunburst burn mark next to the star in my palm.

“What the fuck!?”

Mindy leaped up from her chair, sending it rolling back to crash into a filing cabinet with a rattling bang.  She backed up into the corner, her hands held up in front of her.

Awkward.

I held my hands up too, and leaned back in the chair.

“I’m not going to hurt you.  Look, I just need help.  Obviously, I have a…problem.”

When I did nothing else, she slowly lowered her hands, but didn’t sit back down.

“What…how did it…happen?” she asked shakily.

“I didn’t make curfew last night.”

She stared at me dumbly.

“You…were outside…after sunset.”  She seemed to be weighing the words as they were leaving her mouth.  Like even she couldn’t believe what she was saying.

I nodded.

“You should be dead.”

I nodded again.

“Do you remember what happened?”

I had thought about it hard, but could only summon a vague memory of footsteps.

She read the denial on my face.

She reached up to rub her forehead with one of her hands, the other arm folded across her stomach.

“I don’t know anything about this.  You should turn yourself in.  Maybe they could learn something from you.  Maybe help you.”

She lowered her hand and gave me an assessing look that made me feel slightly uncomfortable.  The authorities were a last resort for me.  Once I went to them, I could kiss my life goodbye.

Nobody would fault them for taking me into custody.

Indefinitely.

“But I do know someone who might know a little more.”

She stepped closer to the desk with obvious reluctance.  Flipping open a notepad, she scribbled something on the page before ripping it out and setting it on the desk.

Retreating back to the corner, she watched expectantly.

I slid the paper toward me on the desk, moving slowly so as not to spook her.  She’d written a name and an address.

Simon Birch.

The address was a few blocks from here, near the park.

“Tell him I sent you.”

I nodded.  Standing up, I shoved the scrap of paper into my pocket.  Mindy made no move to come any closer, her wary eyes locked on me.

I didn’t want to do this, but I needed some assurance she wouldn’t run out and report me as soon as I left.

Hell, this Birch guy could be a trap.

“It would be…unfortunate…if I came to the attention of the police when the only person who knows about this is you.  It would be even more unfortunate if they found out about some unregistered property.”

It was an educated guess.  It cost money to register trees, not to mention the property tax that applied to them.  Mindy was always well stocked with charms and pieces of wood, when many others who set up shop at around the same time as her were struggling.

Having a cache of unregistered, untaxed trees would explain the difference.

A quick flash of anger lit her face, confirming my suspicions.  I waited for her to nod stiffly before I turned to leave.

This bridge was definitely burned.  I’d basically doused it in gasoline and lit a match.