Kiss Of Darkness. Heather Graham

hair and throat. A touch so light, so seductive, that she couldn’t help responding to it.

      She had to get out. Had to rise, had to run.

      “There, on the screen,” her companion said. “Watch. My friend is in this one.”

      Nancy stared at the movie.

      They had gone from a sex tape to a very different scene, something both far more beautiful and far more disturbing. There was a woman, her every movement languid, elegant. Gossamer fabric floated around the woman. Her hair seemed to swish across the screen like silk. The film was provocative in a way that the simple thrusting and panting that had preceded it hadn’t been. Nancy couldn’t stand, couldn’t protest. She could only watch. She felt tears forming in her eyes and she was suddenly scared.

      She thought she heard a whisper, but her companion wasn’t talking, only watching the screen.

      Still, Nancy was sure she heard words.

      Come, sweetheart. Show me your throat. Let me taste all that life rushing through your veins….

      Nancy heard her companion moan softly and turned to find the woman looking at her, so at ease, so pleased.

      Like a cat with the canary already between its paws.

      “Watch, now.”

      And she did, because she had no other choice. Her heart was beating so loudly that she could hear its thunder. Somehow she knew that the woman at her side could hear it, too.

      “There.” The woman pointed, and Nancy stared.

      There was something dark at the right-hand corner of the screen. A mist, red and black…darkening, becoming…something….

      A man. A low-brimmed hat hid his features. He was tall. He walked slowly up behind the woman.

      The woman turned. Mary.

      A soft gasp escaped Nancy. She tried to form a protest.

      “Yes,” her companion hissed. “Yes, soon…”

      Mary turned.

      Saw the man…and screamed.

      On the screen, a door burst open. Jeremy. The man looked up, his face shadowed except for his eyes, which glowed like fire. And he had fangs.

      The man was undisturbed by Jeremy’s presence. He strode toward him, laughing.

      “Yes,” the woman beside Nancy hissed again.

      Nancy turned, and her eyes widened in horror. The woman had changed. She had grown. Her eyes were glowing with a pure fire. And her teeth…were no longer teeth.

      They were fangs.

      Terrified, sure she was hallucinating, Nancy forced her eyes back to the screen.

      The man had reached Jeremy, still laughing. He threw his arm out, his hand connecting with Jeremy’s face.

      Jeremy went flying, slamming back against the doorframe.

      Nancy’s eyes darted back to the woman. She saw the fire in her eyes, felt her own terror rise. Watched the fangs, dripping with anticipation.

      And she could do nothing but weep in her soul. The woman’s touch, her eyes…it was as if Nancy had been stung by a paralyzing spider. She could not prevent her own demise. She could not even cry out, only hear herself scream in terror inside her head.

      Then there was a shattering sound. As if someone had burst into Mary’s room through a window. The sound changed everything. Or maybe the arrival of whatever…whoever…had caused the that sound. Nancy felt something stirring in her, a sense of herself, of strength. She stared at the screen. There was someone else in that room now…a presence. Broad-shouldered, tall, dominating. A man, and something about his appearance…

      What?

      Changed everything. Evened the playing field. Gave her…hope.

      He was wearing a large, low-brimmed hat and a floor-length leather trench coat, like an old railway frock coat. And he carried what appeared to be a longbow.

      The man moved with the speed of lightning, stringing his bow in a blur.

      He stood still for a moment, a bastion against the insanity.

      “No,” gasped the woman at Nancy’s side. “No.” she repeated, a whine of protest and even of horror.

      Nancy no longer had any idea what was real and what was not, but she, too, knew that everything had changed.

      The man had burst not just through glass but through the spell that had been upon them, the miasma…

      The evil.

      3

      The dominatrix reached the room. She hadn’t been prepared for this, hadn’t believed…

      She threw open the door, her heart thundering with fear, with anticipation. What had been conjecture was now proved to be true. He was there.

      But someone else was there, as well. Someone unknown to her, yet she sensed his power.

      She straightened, hesitating, knowing she had to make a split-second decision.

      And then she saw the other man more clearly. Not his face, for his hat was drawn too low, but she saw the longbow, the way his head was bent, eyes on his target.

      She backed away.

      Who? What?

      Then she heard screams coming from below.

      Screams of shrill, uncanny terror.

      All hell had broken loose.

      Indecision tore at her for a moment.

      Alone. She shouldn’t have been alone.

      She should have seen to it that she had help with her. But she hadn’t really known what would happen here. So she was alone.

      What to do?

      Whatever was happening here, there was a force at work to counter evil, while down below…

      The screams continued.

      She turned and ran.

      She could move, Nancy realized. The sound of the shattering glass had somehow freed her.

      She stood, screaming—aloud, this time.

      On the screen, the arrow was fired. It caught the fanged monster in the shoulder. The creature hissed, then gave an ungodly roar of fury.

      It seemed to echo and echo….

      A hand fell on Nancy’s arm. She looked down and shivered. Not a hand, a talon. She looked again at the woman who had tried to seduce her, who looked even less human than before.

      Her grip, again, was powerful.

      Chaos broke out. People were rising all around. Some, like her, were screaming…fighting.

      And others—like the woman beside her—were shrieking in fury, attacking.

      Something seemed to fly into the room. A shadow, the essence of darkness and speed. As Nancy stood, a continual scream flowing from her lips, the woman was ripped away from her.

      “Get out!” The command was harsh. Male? Female? She couldn’t tell.

      She was all too willing to obey, however. She ran for the entry, terror lending her speed.

      Behind her, someone cried her name. She was afraid to turn, even though she knew it was Mary calling out to her. She was afraid to stop.

      Mary caught up to her, still dressed in the gossamer gown. In the back of Nancy’s mind, she knew it was cold out and that her friend would freeze.

      Tears were streaming down Mary’s cheeks. “We’ve got to get out.”

      Someone shouted