Blood of the Fae Read online

  Edited by Catherine Jones Payne

  Blood of the Fae

  Copyright © 2018 Tom Mohan

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the publisher.

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Published by BHC Press

  under the Open Window imprint

  Library of Congress Control Number:

  2018936814

  ISBN Numbers:

  Softcover: 978-1-947727-57-1

  Ebook: 978-1-947727-99-1

  Visit the publisher at:

  www.bhcpress.com

  ALSO BY TOM MOHAN

  Eve of Redemption

  For Brian,

  You left us way too soon.

  “Everything you have been through in this life has shaped you into the person you are today. Learn from your mistakes. Stay in constant communication with your divine creator. Pray. Pray for your loved ones. Pray for your enemies. Pray for righteousness. What’s happening in your life right now is happening for a reason and a purpose. Surrender to your conscience. God is Science and Science is God. They are one and the same. Do not judge. We have no idea why a person is the way that they are. If you’re not helping somebody, you are hurting them. Let God be the judge. Our God is a just God. Pray for hope. Pray for Love. Pray for Faith. Pray for patience. Pray for understanding. Pray for Wisdom. These things will be givin’ to you in due time. Love and respect people’s ideas and opinions but do not let anybody control you. People think that they know everything, trust me, they don’t. I don’t. God is. I am not. Evil does exist. Be very careful with your words and actions. Every minute detail causes a domino effect in some way or another. Be careful. Think things through. Do not argue. If people believe something is true, then it must be true. If they believe what they say, then their beliefs exist and are in fact, true. To a certain degree. Who are we to say they are wrong? Prove it. You can’t. Surrender to the truth. Strive for perfection. Grow... Sometimes the closest people to you are the hardest to Love. Love them anyway. Break the curse. In the meantime, I’ll catch you on the flip side. Love and peace from... Somewhere. Good luck. Love, Me...”

  ~Brian Garegnani~

  1984 - 2017

  Liza McCarthy blew a strand of dark hair from her face as she dug through the day’s mail. Mostly junk, as usual. She divided the junk mail into two piles, one for the shredder and the other to go into the recycle bin. She always shredded the credit card offers and anything else that had her name on it. Just the mention of identity theft gave her nightmares.

  She took a steak knife from the rack on the counter, slit open an envelope from the Department of Motor Vehicles, and pulled out her new driver’s license. She scanned the expiration date, which was three years in the future on her twenty-ninth birthday. She’d once heard a story of a woman who’d been arrested because her brand-new license had an expired date on it. That thought had wormed its way into her mind and refused to leave.

  The date was correct, so she shifted her gaze to the picture. Her own face stared up at her. Her smile was okay, and her green eyes stood out against her tan skin. Her skin was always tan. It never faded, never grew darker, and never burned, even in the Southern California sun. People often thought she was Pacific Islander or something like that.

  Who knew, maybe she was.

  She’d never had a zit, either. She assumed she could thank her biological dad for that. Her straight black hair was another gift from him. As driver’s license pictures went, it wasn’t bad. She finished with the mail and glanced at the answering machine at the end of the counter. Her friend, Becca, made fun of her for using such an old-fashioned device. Voicemail was standard with any phone service, but Liza liked knowing whether she had any messages at a single glance. She’d grown uncomfortable with rapid technological advances. Besides, it was part of the phone, so she might as well use it.

  Liza pushed the play button and waited for the usual junk message urging her to call to receive a prize or to vote for whatever candidate in the next election. Instead, a woman’s voice came from the tiny speaker.

  “Hello, Liza. My name is Brianna. I’m Marcas’s sister. I need to talk to you. Please call the number on your answering machine as soon as you hear this.”

  The machine went quiet after one message. Liza found herself holding her breath. She hadn’t heard from Marcas in nearly three months. Hearing his name brought a flush of anger to her face. Marcas had told her that he had no family, so who was this Brianna? He’d spoken little of his past during their brief relationship, but he’d been clear that he had no siblings. That was the one thing they’d had in common.

  Liza jumped as the phone rang. The number was unfamiliar, and she let it go to the answering machine. After three rings, she heard the machine click on. There was a delay during which she knew the caller was hearing her recorded greeting, and then the same woman’s voice came on.

  “Pick up the phone, Liza. I know you’re there.”

  Liza stared at the machine. How could this woman know she was home? Liza considered picking up but instead reached over and shut the machine off. Marcas was a part of her past, and she didn’t need him dredged back up. Whatever this Brianna wanted, she could get it without Liza’s help.

  The phone rang. The number on the screen was different this time, not even a real phone number—00000. Liza’s hand shook as she took the phone and disconnected the wire from the back.

  “There,” she said, her voice loud in the quiet house. “Now leave me alone.”

  Liza glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall. Almost 10:00 p.m. Auditions for the play had gone late and left her exhausted. She was glad her part was already locked in and that she had only to watch the others that evening. She opened the cabinet over the microwave and took out a wine glass.

  The phone rang.

  Liza spun toward it. The wire dangled from the edge of the counter. Even the menu screen was dark. The incoming call light flashed, and the phone rang a second time. The wine glass slipped from her fingers and shattered on the tile floor. A third ring, and the answering machine that she’d shut off clicked on.

  “Listen to me, Elizabeth McCarthy. You are in great danger. If you do not do exactly as I say, you will not live through the night.”

  Liza’s gaze flicked around the room. The air in her little house felt heavy and oppressive, making it hard to breathe. She placed a hand on the counter to steady herself.

  “I know you’re there. I apologize for frightening you, but you need to listen to me.”

  Liza stepped closer to the counter, a piece of glass crunching beneath her shoe. She picked up the phone, her palm so damp with sweat that she almost dropped it. She couldn’t quite bring herself to put it to her ear and held it a few inches away.

  “Who are you?”

  “I told you who I am.”

  “Marcas doesn’t have a sister.”

  “Is that what he told you? Interesting, but of no consequence at the moment.”

  The utter calm of the woman’s voice soothed some of Liza’s fear. “How are you talking to me? I unplugged the phone.”

  “How I’m talking to you isn’t as important as why.”

  “Who the hell are you? This can’t be happening.”

  There was a pause and then a soft sigh. “Look, I’m not very good at dealing with people, but I need you to believe that if you do not do exactly as I
say, your life will be in jeopardy.”

  Liza’s eyes scanned the room, every shadow a potential hiding place for some unknown enemy. Could she be in danger? Her tidy, well-organized life had no frame of reference for such a thing. “Go on.”

  “There is a man on his way to your house right now. Trust me when I say that you don’t want to be there when he arrives. I need you to take your cell phone and go out the back door.”

  “Why the back door? My car is in front.”

  “Do not go out the front door. Do not go to your car.” Brianna’s voice now vibrated with a sense of urgency that caused Liza’s heart to race. She had a hard time catching her breath.

  This couldn’t be real. Her house was in a quiet neighborhood in the southeast corner of San Pedro, California. Like all the houses in the neighborhood, the backyard was fenced and, in her case, the fence covered by a hedge. There was one large carob tree that shaded most of the yard, and no place to hide. She would be trapped if someone really was coming after her.

  Headlights from a passing car drew her attention to the front window. The car continued past the house, slower than she thought normal. The brake lights flashed as the car slowed even more.

  “You need to get out of there now!” Brianna said. “Go into the backyard and hide behind the tree. Keep your cell phone on you, and I will be in contact.”

  “Wait…” Liza said, but the woman was gone. She thought she heard another car coming up the road, but this time no headlights shone in the window. She still didn’t trust the woman who claimed to be Marcas’s sister, but she was too spooked to stay where she was. She grabbed her purse and headed out the back door.

  The first thing Liza noticed was how dark the yard was. The upper limbs of the tree were vague outlines against the night sky, and the trunk seemed little more than a shadow. She thought she heard another car and paused, uncertain. She was so unnerved she didn’t know what to think.

  The night air held a chill without being cold. Late spring in the Los Angeles area generally meant beautiful days and comfortable nights. The air smelled of city smog mixed with the gentler scent of night-blooming lilac. Liza hugged her purse tight and moved down the three concrete steps and into the yard. She wasn’t sure who was the crazy one—the woman on the phone or herself.

  The phone was unplugged.

  Liza slipped behind the tree trunk and positioned herself where she could see the house but remain out of sight. The yard was dark and quiet. Soft sounds from neighboring houses spoke of people going about their normal lives. Somewhere in front of the house, a car door closed.

  Liza held her breath.

  The night grew quieter, as though the comforting sounds of normality were fading into the background to make way for the headline event. A feeling of dark foreboding fell over her. For a moment, she couldn’t breathe, and then the feeling passed.

  What the hell was that?

  A shadow moved across the kitchen window. Liza pulled her head out of sight and pressed her back against the rough bark of the tree. There was someone in her house. Her breathing sputtered in small gasps as she fought to push the panic away. According to Brianna, the intruder wanted to hurt her. But why?

  Liza stifled a scream as her phone vibrated in her purse. She plunged her hand inside the bag and felt the vibration again. She dug inside the darkness of the purse until she found it. It vibrated again yet the screen remained dark.

  With a shaking hand, Liza pressed the phone to her ear.

  “Don’t say anything.” Brianna’s voice was soft and calm. “He knows you’re there, but he can’t sense you. I know this sounds strange, but you will have to trust me. Try to keep calm and do exactly as I say. Believe it or not, I can get you out of this.”

  Brianna’s voice seemed to lose some of its confidence on that last line. Liza had so many questions but was afraid to make any sound. The phone was so quiet against her ear that she wondered if the woman had hung up. The world and everything familiar lay just beyond the hedge, and yet it felt miles away, unreachable. Her world now consisted of only this dark square and the strange woman on the phone.

  “Get ready to move,” Brianna said.

  “Move? Move where?”

  “Listen closely. When I tell you to move, I want you to go around the north side of the house. Go to the front edge but not beyond the house.”

  Liza peered toward the house. “The north side doesn’t have a gate,” she whispered. “It’s just a fence.”

  “Really? Well, that creates a problem, doesn’t it?” Brianna was silent a moment. “It has to be the north side. Go! Now!”

  Liza hesitated a moment before doing as instructed. The soft, damp grass covered the sound of her footsteps as she slipped across the yard and into the narrow gap between her house and the fence. The fence was only about six feet high—four inches taller than her—and she could see into her neighbor’s yard when she stood on tiptoe.

  Various forms of debris littered the ground along the narrow way. Her landlord was good about keeping up maintenance on the house, however, his handyman had a tendency to use this gap to dump junk he didn’t feel like hauling to the landfill. And spiders. Don’t forget the spiders.

  About two-thirds of the way toward the front of the house stood another fence of the same height. Her foot collided with the edge of a board buried in the weeds, and it hit the fence with a dull thud.

  She pressed her back to the house and listened for any sound from within. Silence greeted her. She could sense someone there and again felt the dark touch that caused her to shiver in revulsion. Along with the darkness came the sensation of cold fingers trying to dig into her mind.

  Liza squinted. Her neighborhood was on a slope, so the house next door was lower than her own. While the fence was only six feet high on her side, it was much higher on the other. She didn’t think she could make that climb in the dark. She looked toward the fence between her and the front yard. She thought she could scale it, but there was a window that would put her in clear sight of anyone within view of it. She lifted the phone to her ear, but if Brianna was there, she wasn’t offering any advice.

  Feeling like a rat trapped in a corner, Liza decided she either had to go over the fence or around the other way. She wanted to sneak around the house and slip out the gate, but Brianna’s warning held her back. Sucking in a deep breath that did little to calm her, she moved beside the window and risked a quick glance inside. The room was tiny and contained only a cheap desk, computer, and small bookcase, none of which she could see in the dark.

  A shadow moved across the open door from the den to the living room, and Liza ducked back and held her breath. The cold fingers probed again, more insistent this time, and she was certain that whoever was in the house was standing on the other side of the window. She closed her eyes, willing herself to be invisible in the darkness. The probing felt like it was trying to force its way into her head, into her mind. It nauseated her.

  A light touch brushed her hand. Liza bit her lower lip to keep from screaming as something with many legs marched over her skin. It paused for a moment, and her mind conjured the image of a huge spider preparing to sink its mandibles of death into her hand. The pressure on her mind grew stronger, as though the intruder could sense her sudden terror. Liza tried to turn her mind off, to imagine a blank space. The spider began moving again, and she forced herself to ignore it.

  Finally, the feeling faded, and she felt the presence move away. She waited another full minute before allowing herself to breathe again. She shook the hand that the spider had crossed but saw no sign of it. By now, her eyes had grown accustomed to the darkness, and she inspected the fence before her. She’d always been athletic and hoped her childhood gymnastics might help. She thought she could get over it easily enough but not very quietly. And not with her purse.

  She shoved her phone in her pants pocket and dug her keys from the purse before setting the bag on the ground beside her. Taking another look at the window, she decided to m
ake her move. She scurried beneath the window and darted to the fence. Then, from a squatting position, she launched herself up. She got more height than she expected. Her hands grasped the top of the fence, and she used one foot against the house to propel herself over. She kept hold of the top and landed on the other side.

  Liza fought to keep her panting breath under control. She squatted beside the fence and listened. The whole maneuver had gone off much better than she’d expected, though her foot hitting the house had sounded like an explosion in her ears. Hearing nothing, she stood and stepped to the corner of the house. Her car was parked in front. An unfamiliar, dark-colored sedan sat across the street.

  Nothing moved.

  She was considering her options when the phone vibrated. She pulled it from her pocket. “What?” she whispered.

  “Don’t go to your car. He’ll be expecting that. Do you see two very similar cars near your house?”

  Liza searched the street. There was another dark sedan just like the first about half a block down. “I see them.”

  “Okay, here’s where things get interesting. Something is about to happen that will give you a way out. Unfortunately, I don’t know what that something might be. I just know it will happen, and if you act accordingly, you are still alive when the sun rises in the morning.”

  Liza wanted to scream. This woman was driving her crazy with her vague predictions and nonsense statements.

  She considered making a break for her own car, but the foreboding darkness hit her like a blow. Nausea welled up in her, and she thought she might be sick. Whoever was in the house was coming her way, and she had the distinct impression he knew where she was this time. She shook uncontrollably. Her mind screamed at her to run, to get away. She was ready to bolt for her car when a second man stepped out of the shadows on the other side of the house by the gate. She couldn’t make out any details in the dark, but she knew he was looking right at her.