Dark Shadows Read online

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  Tease Publishing LLC

  www.teasepublishingllc.com

  Copyright ©2008 by jj keller

  First published in 2008, 2008

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  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

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  CONTENTS

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  About the Author

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  Dark Shadows

  By

  jj Keller

  Dark Shadows by jj Keller

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Dark Shadows

  Copyright©2008 by jj Keller

  ISBN:978-1-60767-005-6

  Cover Artist: Stella?

  Editor: Gail

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to my son, Brian, a true guardian.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter One

  The churchyard, silent, dark, and foreboding beckoned Henri. An owl hooted a warning; however, the alarm came too late for the man of cloth.

  Reverend Goodby tilted, in a mesmerized state, and leaned against the tree. Henri spoke in soothing tones to the smiling bastard. A gentle touch to the man's face and an instant visual of Goodby kneeling over a pious woman, massaging her breasts while spouting the gospel came into Henri's mind. Divine intervention always made him laugh. The religious false messenger spouted words of the lord, but failed to practice what he advocated.

  A fingertip to the Reverend's heart, a simple incantation, and he went up in brilliant red, blue and orange flames. Sulfur and ashes fell to the ground. His evangelistic days had ended and good riddance to the Reverend. The scent of metallic sulfur penetrated Henri's senses. He hated the burning tinny smell of hell and damnation.

  Henri mentally brushed his hands and transported to his favorite spot on Earth, the pub Dark Shadows.

  Revelers flowed out from the bar and grill. He appreciated the name of the establishment, Dark Shadows. A hundred year old oak tree created shading on the face of the building. The precise locations of the exterior lighting allowed for the images to appear dark and gothic. However, that wasn't the reason for the pub's name. No, there were shadows inside as well as out.

  He couldn't pinpoint exactly why he continued to come back to this century, haunting this location. The patron's were similar in other centuries and pubs parallel to this one. He could locate an indecent amoral person within five seconds and dispatch them in equal time. The pub ... no the people inside the establishment called to him.

  Henri walked into the gloomy and smoke filled interior. The moment he met her glance, his calcified heart recognized the reason. He returned because of Tori Kepler. Bright blonde hair flowed across her shoulders as she moved. Even from several feet away her faint woman scent filled his nostrils. Her smile, luminescent as her tresses, shot his way. Henri staggered backwards, her beauty took him away from all thought, he caught the edge of the bar rail and leaned into her aura. She smelled fresh, something floral. He inhaled enjoying the brief bit of Florida springtime bouquet. Orange blossoms?

  "Come on, man, belly up to the bar,” a logorrhea friend from last night said. The man's round face flushed red with heat from the crowded interior and the tipping of a few beers.

  Henri nodded and sat on the hard, wooden seat. “Good evening, Smith."

  The man's eyes widened in wonder, they had never been introduced. Sometimes Henri liked to play with his powers and smiled as the man questioned when he'd told the strange fellow his name. Henri enjoyed being thought of as a strange fellow.

  Fire and brimstone continued to assault his nostrils. He willed Tori to move closer, so he could enjoy her fragrance and wipe away the stench of evil.

  "Mr. Chambers, it's nice to see you again. Dark beer?” Tori asked. Her voice immersed him in its satin tones. He didn't want to take her from her life as she knew it, but if he didn't perform his task, he might not be granted his aspiration.

  "Sounds good.” He sat straighter on the chair and fiddled with a basket of pretzels.

  Would it be possible to work a deal with one of the higher-order to remain on Earth and become a partner for Tori? Where had that thought come from? Over two hundred years of service he'd never wanted to remain on Earth. Yet, he'd never craved to be with a person as he did Tori. He shook his head, no, they'd never let him go.

  "We have a new Irish beer. Do you want to try it?” she asked lowering her voice an octave. Her eyes were the color of violets, a dark blue nearly purple, and they held hints of sadness.

  "Yes,” he whispered his voice hoarse. His gaze sharpened as she moved to the edge of the bar and leaned over. His palms were damp, and he imagined his heart pounding in his chest. He acted like a schoolboy in love instead of the enigma he'd become. Mind racing, he tried to create a conversation that would keep her by his side.

  She claimed a bottle from cold storage, flipped off the top and slid the dark brew in front of him. He reached for the beer. She touched his fingers, an intentional touch. His ability to see into her mind made him want to seek confirmation that she was indeed attracted to him.

  "Are you all right tonight? You seem distracted.” Her cheerless eyes held sympathy.

  He gave into the urge and after a quick search of her mind found desire. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. He tipped the brown bottle and drew a long drink. No need to seek other information. He vowed to never try to invade her mind again.

  Tori reeled from his caress. A single spark from his touch ignited energy. The force flowed through her body. Henri was very attractive, with his long dark brown hair and soul-searching black-brown eyes. Awareness of him as a sexy man jolted through her. Temptation wrapped in a six-foot, hot package. Someone she could bind herself to, if she were normal.

  He always came in alone and rarely had conversations with other patrons. Despite his fine apparel, he seemed dangerous and brooding. He took a drink of the dark beer, set it down on the oak bar counter. His long fingers swiped at a lock of hair that had broken away from the rest of his mop. Her gaze followed his actions. His long, narrow fingers stirred a tingle in her stomach. She desired his touch.

  Brandi's shout for a Long Island Ice Tea prompted Tori into action. Was she ready for another relationship? She'd been hiding for two years. Not one date in those seven hundred and thirty days. Tori prepared the beverage, set the tea on a tray, and pushed it to the edge of the counter. She deserved to experience a bit of magic, so she returned to Henri and his magnetism.

  "I'm exhausted. It's been a long work time.” He answered her question from a few minutes ago, picked up the bottle, and placed it on the round cardboard coaster.

  "Do you mean a long workday?” she asked and pulled a beer from the tap, sending it down the
line to Wendy, a regular customer. His language expressions intrigued her. It was almost as if his words had hidden meanings.

  "Sure. Tori...” Henri's deep voice did crazy things to her heart, not just quick beats, but little jets of energy.

  "Tori, need a Tahiti and a T-sunrise.” Her brother, Mark shouted. The jukebox had been regenerated and Rascal Flatts belted out Winner at a Losing Game.

  She mixed the drinks, loaded them onto a tray, and shoved it toward Brandi, the waitress. Tori tried to make her way back to Henri Chambers, confident he planned to ask her for a date. She intended to accept.

  Fifteen minutes later she glanced at his seat, he wasn't there. Gone? She searched around the crowded bar, but didn't see his dark clothing. Henri had dressed in elegant black shirt, pants, and overcoat. He stood out. Not now, he must have left and with that knowledge, her heart lost some of its joy.

  Just as well. She sighed. The power was stronger during the day, being as how daylight multiplied her force. Control over her fire starting abilities would be a challenge. Of course, a date could occur on her night off. The drive-in near the edge of town had reopened. The city was trying to recapture nostalgic artifacts and a drive-in theatre was one of them. Her parents had talked about a movie they had watched from their car. The driver put a metal box inside for sound, and you could see the big screen for miles.

  She wanted to go and having a rendezvous would make the evening delightful. A night alone in the car with the mysterious, sexy Henri Chambers would certainly put mist on the windows. Hours later, she threw a lock of hair behind her ear and glanced around.

  "Mark, I'm beat. What if I come in early tomorrow and finish cleaning the glasses?” She normally wasn't a whiner, but she'd had enough of scullery duty. Half-owner of the bar, she should have gotten out of dish duty years ago.

  "Brandi will finish, go on home.” He touched her arm as she walked by. “Call me when you get there."

  Tori smiled, ruffled his blond hair, he was always the big brother. “I live in the basement apartment of your house."

  His fingers tightened, nails dug into her arm. “Call!"

  She met his piercing stare. Damn, he must have had a premonition.

  Brandi stepped behind Mark. He released Tori's arm, and his gaze whipped over Brandi. She had a compact, shapely body. At five foot four, she came into direct line with his collarbone. Long black hair slid over her shoulder.

  "What's going on?” She slid a tray under the counter.

  "I just volunteered you to scrub the glassware,” Mark responded. “Okay, boss,” Brandi affected a Chinese accent.

  Tori snickered. Earlier in the day, they'd had a conversation about the changing climate in China. Okay, boss, or the American version I'll do whatever you say, was mutating and eventually would become non-existent. People were beginning to have a voice.

  "All right, if you insist I'll help you. I call dry duty,” Mark said, his blue eyes glittering with humor.

  Brandi groaned and Mark laughed.

  "Night, all.” Tori nodded to Mark. He bent his head in response. Code for she'd do what he asked, because they loved and respected each other.

  Her stomach muscles clinched as she walked to her car. Mark must have had a message from the undead, people who weren't dead or alive. She swiped her long sleeved T-shirt across her sweaty forehead, and slipped the key into the hole to unlock her car door.

  "Ms. Kepler?” A raspy deep voice came from the shadows.

  She whipped around so fast the key jerked from the lock, and she lost her footing. One knee hit the ground hard. Strong arms lifted her. Sparks flew in kaleidoscope colors from her fingertips.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Two

  "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you,” Henri said, drawing her close to his side and steadying her.

  "Henri.” Her breath hitched, causing her heart to stop beating. She held her hand to her heart, ready to pound it into start if needed. She locked her legs and tried to restrain the fire itching to come from her fingers. Normally she had control over her fire starter ability, but the shock set her off. Had she burned his flesh?

  "It's actually, Onry,” he replied. He made the sound like its French origin with the guttural noise, an unclear cough, coming from his throat.

  "On Ree?” she asked.

  "No finer music has been voiced with my name as the chorus.” He bent and brushed off the leg of her pants where dirt and debris had embedded in the material.

  His hands on her body sent a rage of heat through her. The flames caught inside her throat caused a pain, a burn only the release of energy could soothe. He straightened, took her car keys from her and slid them into the lock of her classic BMW Roadster.

  "Nice car.” He ran his gaze over the sleek red lines.

  "It was a gift.” She shrugged and turned to open the door.

  "Tori, would you like to go somewhere for coffee?” He placed his hand on her arm.

  Mark's words echoed in her ears. Although Henri excited her, and she experienced a strong attraction for him, a danger existed, a threat still unknown to her. Could he see her heart pound? She hadn't planned to pull away, but she took a step back. The saddened expression on his face gave her pause.

  "I'm sorry. It's late, and I'm exhausted. Perhaps another time?” She withdrew the key from the lock and slid into the car.

  He held the door. She settled behind the driver's wheel.

  "What about tomorrow?” Henri asked.

  She stared into the deep depths of his eyes, mere inches from hers. “Meet me here. Tomorrow night around eight, I get an hour break from work. We can get dinner or a light snack."

  "It'll be my pleasure.” He smiled. His teeth white in the dark of the night.

  "Then, we've a date Henri Chambers.” She tugged on her seatbelt. He shut the door. She started the car and drove away, keeping him in sight in the review mirror.

  Five blocks later Tori pulled into her side of the garage. She shut down the car and grabbed her purse. The car door stuck, so she slammed it shut. She entered her house, flipping on the sedate inset lighting. The bulbs built into the ceiling provided a soft glow to the room and not a harsh brilliant shine under the right conditions could cause a fire eruption from her.

  She placed her keys on the rack, and her bag on the black wood claw footed-table underneath. As she removed her low heeled boots, a tingling made the hairs at the point of her widow's peak above her left eye wiggle. Something was different. She scanned the area.

  The open format of the space provided an airy environment, the kitchen, living room and a separate bedroom with a bath that opened from her bedroom and the main area. The only natural illumination in the entire room came from the entrance, French glass doors.

  Suspicious, she glanced around. A shadowed area between the curio cabinet and the interior wall deserved a closer inspection. The blank spot would be excellent for hiding. The demon statues’ jeweled eyes glowed. The stones were faceted. The orbs appeared to move as she did, glaring at her.

  The sculptures were a constant reminder of the harsh and cruel obscenities of life. Lewd and unrealistic creatures existed in Cyan, Indiana, and they came out during the day, not just at night. One of which was her ex-boyfriend. She pushed down the fear, the anxiety evolving around the unknown.

  Her bedroom door, shut tight, drew her attention. The access was never closed. She always wanted to see if anything was lurking in the corners. Paranoid she was sure, but she'd had enough unusual incidents to make her mind wacky. She crept closer, mentally preparing her body for the fight. Tension in her arms and legs tightened the muscles, her back flexible in case she had to swivel and kick.

  Tori jerked the sword from the armored knight relic, keeping guard at the portal and twisted the handle. She eased the door back, until it hit the rubber stopper, and slid into the room. She pressed her body firm to the panel and crouched. The edge of the blade banged and clanged the wall trim. Her heart raced as the ting
went through the room, vibrating off the walls despite the large ornate furniture occupying most of the space.

  A shade, darkness without heat moved in the corner. There were no unusual sounds, just the drip of water hitting against the sink basin.

  "Why didn't you call?” Mark's voice came from behind her.

  Tori jumped. The candles on the dresser, torched illuminating the room, and black soot rose toward the high ceilings. “Mark, I could have rammed this sword straight into your belly. What were you thinking, sneaking up on me?"

  "That you'd been attacked and instead I find you hovering at the doorway to your bedroom.” He grabbed her and held her close. “I'm worried about you."

  Shivers skittered across her neck and arms. He'd never reacted this way to a prophecy. Why the sudden concern? “What was the divination?"

  Her heart beat as fast as the successive drip of water hitting the bathroom sink. He released her. The fact that the leak needed to be repaired floundered around in her mind, anything to delay the words.

  "Mother dropped in as I was leaving for the bar and left these.” He held out two tarot cards, The Hierophant and Seven of Swords. “One's for you and one's for me. She made it clear it's a warning for you."

  "Warning for me only? What about you?"

  "The future for me, advice for you.” He nodded and walked into the living room. The cards spread out on the glass coffee table, resembling a spark of fire with reds, oranges and grays. Mark plopped down on the brown leather sofa.

  "Which one is mine?” She held up The Hierophant. The card depicted a man wearing a crown and red flowing robe sitting in an elaborate chair. Two columns were on each side of him and two men with yellow sashes knelt on the floor.

  He held up the Seven of Swords. A man wearing a green hat and resembling Robin Hood had five swords resting on his shoulder. Two blades were stuck in the ground beside him. “Well considering this card means lone wolf."

  "Maybe not. Let's talk this through. The Hierophant represents learning with experts or knowledgeable teachers, or a force that isn't innovative, free-spirited or individual will fight you. The Seven of Swords has a thief sneaking off with five of seven swords. It implies your honor, ideas, or time will be stolen."