When Darkness Falls

By K. L. Slothour

Unveiling Eve: A Barista's Hidden Supernatural Identity Sparks a Deadly Chase in a World of Vampyres, Werewolves, and Corrupt Paranormal Police. Her Survival Rests on Embracing the Monster Within.

To the everyday observer, Eve Kelly is just an ordinary girl, serving coffee at the Dark Side Cafe. Behind the facade of the mi

• Language: English
• Publisher: Palmetto Publishing
• Release date: Jul 22, 2025
• ISBN: 9798822988408

K. L. Slothour

K.L. Slothour is a prolific urban fantasy author, best known for his captivating Darkness series. Drawing inspiration from his diverse reading interests, he's been crafting stories that blend his favorite genres for over fifteen years. Born and raised in Southern California, Slothour balances his writing passion with a long-standing career as a Splicing Technician at the phone company. A dedicated family man, he's been happily married for 22 years and is a father to three children. In his free time, he enjoys exercising, listening to metal music, hiking, vacationing with his family, and attending concerts. His love for animals is evident in his past and present pets, from birds and tortoises to cats and dogs.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

EVE

T

he rocks on the ground bit into her bare feet as she ran for her life. Eve couldn’t see where she was going because there was no light. To say that it was night was to say that daylight was a possibility, which it wasn’t. No light existed here. There was just a void in space, nothing but the ground that she ran across with its small, sharp, piercing rocks scattered about. There were no scents either, no breeze to offer even the slightest hint of existence in this desolate place.

She ran with wild abandon. She couldn’t run with her arms in front of her to protect her from smashing headfirst into something; rather, she pumped them as marathon runners do to propel themselves forward with greater speed. She needed all of the speed she could get. Running with all her strength, her bare feet pounded down on the harsh, cold ground. She dared not chance a look behind her. Although she didn’t know what pursued her, she knew it would kill her if it ever caught her—when it caught her.

Why it always chased her, she didn’t know. Though she knew she was dreaming, she couldn’t wake. Knowing she was dreaming never helped with the fear she felt. She never understood why she didn’t have shoes in these dreams either.

She stumbled as she clamored over another small hill, nearly falling to the ground. That stumble slowed her down ever so slightly, and she cursed herself for the misstep. The thing of her nightmares that chased her got closer. It was impossibly fast and was gaining on her. She knew she couldn’t outrun it. She was getting tired, and her adrenaline was quickly running out. Pure fear kept her going now.

Eve felt the great beast get closer and closer. She could feel the heat from its fiery breath. The sound it made running behind her only added to the confusion, giving away nothing with its unidentifiable gait. It didn’t sound like anything she had ever heard before. It was running on more than two feet, if it had feet. Whatever it was, her mind refused to cooperate in finding an explanation, as if it knew that to know what it was being pursued by would be its own demise. No one should ever know what true horror looks like or know evil’s name.

Again, she stumbled on the damn rocks as they tore at her flesh. Even though she was drenched in an icy sweat, she was burning up inside, and her hair was matted to her head as she ran. She sensed that the thing was getting closer still. She tried for another burst of speed but had nothing left. Then the thing behind her made a noise, low and deep. The sound rattled her bones as it shook her fear into unbridled terror. It lunged at her from behind, grabbing her with its talons, ripping through her shirt, and...

Eve woke with a scream, kicking and punching at whatever was close to her. She knocked the lamp off of her nightstand, sending it crashing to the floor. Her cat, Heathcliff, was knocked off of his normal sleeping perch at the foot of the bed and ran for cover. She also punched and kicked her boyfriend, who was startled awake next to her.

Jesus Christ, Eve! What the fuck?

Sorry, sorry, she said with gasping breath.

You and your damn dreams. This is why I never stay the night. Whenever I do, you beat the shit out of me with your fucking dreams.

It’s not like I mean to, Eve said, starting to cry. I don’t do it on purpose, you know? It’s not like I enjoy having these nightmares. The last thing I need is for you to be mean to me about it. She was sobbing now. She was tired from running, and her adrenaline was drained. Her body always ached as if it had just finished a marathon when she had that dream.

Her emotions were spent. All she really wanted was to curl up into a little ball and weep. The last thing she wanted to do was fight with her boyfriend, Brad. But apparently, he wanted to, which was all that they did recently.

How many times are you going to have that stupid dream? Huh? I’m tired of you always screaming in the middle of the night while I’m sleeping, Brad said as he got out of bed.

What are you doing? she asked. Brad was trying to hop into his jeans and leaned over to pick up his shirt that he had cast onto the floor a few hours earlier.

I’m outta here. Now that I’m awake, I just remembered I gotta take care of some things. You know, the stuff I told you about? he said, trying to convince her that he had something important to do. But Eve wasn’t buying it. It seemed too much like he just wanted to leave.

Oh, right. I guess I forgot. You’re so important and have so many things to do in the middle of the night. You really need to get started on that, loser, was what she wanted to say. But what came out of her mouth was more like, Oh, right. Um, sorry. Eve wished she could have told him off, but she just didn’t have the mental capacity right then to deal with him.

Ya, well, I’ll call you later then. Once he slipped into his shoes, he was gone. She heard the front door slam shut before she could even get out of bed.

Her need to pee trumped her pity party, so she swung her feet over the edge of the bed. She cried out in pain when the soles of her feet touched the floor. Falling back onto the bed, she lifted her feet up for inspection as her cat leaped back onto the bed.

Shit! she squealed. The bottom of her feet had scrapes and cuts all over them, and looked like they were starting to bruise. Eve started to cry again as she limped into the bathroom, but not from the cuts on her feet. She always felt ashamed of her out-of-control dreams. Brad always stared at her like she was a freak when they happened as if she could help it. Usually, she was able to hide the marks that mysteriously appeared, though tonight was pretty bad. At least Brad didn’t see them.

Eve was rummaging through the drawers of her vanity while she did her business in the bathroom, pulling out antiseptic for the scrapes and bandages for the cuts. She finished dressing the bottoms of her feet, flushed the toilet, and stood up to wash her hands, stepping gingerly on her sore tootsies. She splashed water onto her face as if to clean off the grit of that awful place. She looked into her reflection, not pleased with what she saw. A sallow glimpse of a shell representing a woman was staring back at her. Dark rings under her eyes. Hair stuck to her scalp with sweat. Her skin was pale and clammy. A poor comparison to the woman she used to be. Gone was her vibrant dark reddish hair and alabaster skin; she now looked more like a corpse prepared for viewing at a cut-rate mortuary.

Over the past few months, she had fallen deep into a depression. She had no idea why. It wasn’t like the past couple of years had been any different from the ones prior. Her hell had been constant and never changing. But lately, things had been different; she felt different. She couldn’t identify what had changed, but she was more sensitive about things and not in a hormonal way. Nothing had changed in her life, and yet her body wouldn’t tolerate food. She couldn’t eat certain things that she always had in the past, so now her diet mainly consisted of yogurt and cheeses. Anything else, and she would be ill, like seriously ill with violent vomiting episodes that would leave her exhausted. She would have gone to the doctor if she could afford it, but without insurance these days, it was a financial nightmare. She had enough problems paying rent and her utilities.

Sunlight also was becoming an issue for her. If she was in the daylight too long, she would start to get migraines. Again, going to the doctor’s office wasn’t an option. She was already on the night shift at work, so she really didn’t have to adjust too much. She never was that fond of being with the day-dwelling people all that much anyway.

The severe restriction on her diet and the reaction to sunlight wasn’t what was giving her the most trouble. It was herself. She just felt different. Nightmares had always plagued her ever since she was a child. She had learned long ago to stop telling people what they were. They would always look at her like she was insane. But with the unexplainable changes within her also came an increase in the nightmares. And, now, her nightmares were more horrendous, leaving her terror-stricken and exhausted. She thought that with enough time, things would improve, that she would get back to normal, or she would adapt. But, instead of getting better, she was getting worse.

Her mind was now pulling old memories back to the surface, things that either she had forgotten or she had blocked out. Things like her father, and how he had died when she was only nine, how she was ripped from her home and thrown into a Catholic school for the discarded bastards of the state. It was just as painful now as it was then, if not worse, with time. She missed her father more than anything else in the world. Oh, what she wouldn’t give to run into his arms and have him tell her that she would be all right, to have him make her feel better again as only he could. She just wanted to hear his voice one more time, to be held in his powerful arms once more, or to just smell his scent. She was grateful for all of the good memories she had of him, but it wasn’t enough. Her mind kept on throwing the memory of him dying to the front of her thoughts like it was trying to break her will to live, making her feel guilty that she ever had found happiness without him.

She felt selfish whenever she was having a good day now, whatever that consisted of in her miserable existence. She felt guilty if she laughed or enjoyed herself. She should be mourning, not moving on as everyone else suggested. But how could she? Every time she thought about him, tears threatened to spill over. Eve loved him so fiercely that not having him around was unbearable. The twelve years since his death had done nothing to ease her pain and longing for him.

She had lost so much weight with her depression. Besides eating, the other thing she couldn’t do since he died was sleep. That was when the dreams started. The night her father died, she had her first encounter in that awful place. It was always that same place, cold and dark.

She was halfway out of the bathroom when something in the mirror caught her eye. She rushed back and stared into it. She shut her eyes, refusing to register what she saw. Having bruised feet was one thing, but she had never had her clothes ruined before. Then again, that horrible thing had never touched her, either. She reached down her nightgown and felt the fabric was in tatters.

You are a freak. Freaky Eve, she said to no one. Her childhood nickname had stuck with her most of her life. Whenever she was feeling really down, the memories of the other kids tormenting her, calling her Freaky Eve, always surface. She had never fit in with the other kids at Saint Thomas. Even then, she knew she wasn’t normal like all the others. The way they played with each other, the way they laughed, and the way they didn’t see what she always saw hidden in the shadows.

Normal kids were scared of the dark and the boogeymen that lurked within. Eve was happier in the dark and always said that the boogeyman wasn’t scary, just misunderstood. While they drew gardens with little cute furry animals under the shining sun, Eve drew dark cemeteries under the moonlight with monsters crawling about. Even now, she couldn’t manage to fit in with others. Her skin was too pale, her hair too dark and colored differently than other girls’. And now, with her nightmares coming to life, she was Freaky Eve all over again.

She left the bathroom for the comfort of her bed and Heathcliff, her fat lazy cat. She cried again that night for a third time as she stroked his back. His craggy purr usually brought a smile to her face, but as she thought about his ignorant happiness, she fell deeper into her sorrow. She was tired of feeling so down all the time. She was tired of Brad making her feel like shit whenever they were together. She wanted her daddy back. She wanted her old life back. Eve just didn’t know what to do about any of those things. She knew things had to change but just didn’t know how or where to start.

CHAPTER 2

FAYNE

B

eing out in the darkness always helped to calm Fayne down. There was something about the way the crispness of the winter chill ate at his bones that always got through to him. It helped to clear his thoughts, the pain giving him focus. Whenever he woke from the nightmare that visited him relentlessly night after night, he sought sanctuary in the darkness, clarity in its painful chill. The winter weather of this barren wasteland provided both, and he was grateful for it. The wind lifted up what snow wasn’t frozen into stasis, whipping it around the air and grinding it into the surrounding frozen trees as it stripped off what little remaining bark was left. Anyone caught out in weather like this would surely perish if exposed for more than five minutes. Fayne had been standing in it for what seemed like days now, letting the sleet bite into his exposed hands and face.

He wasn’t getting the promised relief for his laborious anguish. As time went on, it was only getting worse, he was unable to unshackle himself from his mental prison, unable to escape. Some nights were harder than others to shake off the dream, tonight being one of the toughest in recent memory. Normally he didn’t mind the feeling of emptiness, the nothingness that seeped deep into his being. Usually, he was able to ignore everything by focusing on the pain and anguish, but the dreams were getting more intense the longer he dwelt in this place. The deeper he went into the unknown, the more intense they became, almost to the point of being unbearable. The pain was now the only thing keeping his mind intact. He had caught himself a few times on the brink of being totally lost within himself. The shroud that the dreams had on him was taking a stronger hold on his consciousness. Whenever he sensed the dream taking hold of him, he would step up the suffering. The effect was instantaneous, allowing him to continue on his journey.

He stripped off his clothes to expose his chest and back to the cruel frost. His skin immediately turned bright red from the assault, then went from white to blue from the cold. Ice began to build up on his face, covering his eyebrows and his hair. His once flowing jet-black hair was now a ratted nest of knots and ice. The hair that covered his neglected body was quickly collecting sleet, bringing the cold deeper into his core until his bones ached as they, too, began to freeze. He wasn’t concerned with death, though he wouldn’t mind it when it found him, for he couldn’t die in this forsaken place. He could suffer beyond any comprehension, but, to his sorrow, death will never take him here. The more time went by, the more pain the cruel winter wreaked on him. The more pain he suffered without relief, the angrier he became. Tonight, sadly, he would not get any relief from the bitter cold as the unyielding dream began to replay in his mind once more.

The night was cool, with a heavy mist. Unrelenting fog clung to the air. Everything was wet, making concealing his tracks from the others a challenge tonight. He made his way past the sleeping instructors with ease. All he had to do was slip them a little of the sleep aid a few hours before dawn. He had traded for it off of another trainee who was in the infirmary. The elite instructors would remain asleep for hours, giving Fayne enough time to sneak out of camp and see her one more time. He was angry with himself over the whole situation. Things had gotten out of control, and it was all her fault. She confused him every time he was around her. There was no way he was serious about her. It was just a fling. Tonight he would settle things once and for all. After he talked with his friends about what he should do, he couldn’t fail. He had everything worked out in his mind. He would just tell her that he was to be Ceannaire of the vampyres, that he had no time for silly games which females play. He couldn’t be attached to another anyway; it wasn’t permitted. He was, after all, destined for greatness. A true warrior had no place for a female, and he was supposed to be the next king. She had to go.

He played these thoughts over and over in his mind, trying for the perfect combination that would be easiest for them both. He was quite fond of her and didn’t want to cause her more pain than necessary. Before he knew it, he was on the outskirts of the town where she lived, only a few minutes away from her farm. Then he found himself standing below her candlelit window, staring at her as she brushed out her hair in the mirror. He didn’t even think about what he was doing, he wasn’t aware of his actions as he found himself looking at her from across her room, clueless as to how he got inside. He had the most foolish grin in place as she smiled joyously at seeing him. He zipped across the room to embrace her, bringing her close. As he inhaled her intoxicating scent, every thought that he had on the way over was gone. The only thing he could recall was how much he loved her. He would give anything for her and go to any length to protect her and make her his. He would give up being Ceannaire, the people’s leader and king, just to be bound to her. And he told her so, much to her protests.

No, I won’t let you. Our race needs its Ceannaire. You are too important to us and to me. I won’t let you throw it away this way.

How can you say that? I love you. You love me. We should be together. Our people won’t know the difference with one less ruler. I haven’t even ascended yet. Please, Mercy, let’s just go. Be mine.

Before she could even respond, he bent down and kissed her for all that she meant to him. He gave it all that he had, all his love and devotion. And it worked as she was swept off her feet. Her mind clouded over when she heard those wonderful words and when she felt his powerful kiss. She wrapped her arms around him and returned his passion with her own to match. They tumbled onto the bed in a mess of twisted limbs, barely separating to breathe. They tore at each other’s clothing in a desperate rush they didn’t understand. Neither one had been with another, yet they went forward with confidence. This was the right thing for them. They knew they would be together forever. Fayne whispered a few words in the old language of the Fae, and a light breeze went through the room, extinguishing the candles. As the last one went out, they began what they hoped was the beginning of the rest of their lives.

Snaring his mind out of the dense vapor of dreams, Fayne ended his suffering from the cold by bringing his body temperature up, melting the ice and snow into steaming clouds. It was time to move on. He couldn’t dwell in the same place for too long. He had to keep moving, or all would be lost in this hellish place.

He had been wandering here for what seemed like months, maybe even years. Time had no hold here. There were no days, no nights. There was only the now. Without time, how could you measure progress? How would he know how far he’d traveled if there was no moon, no stars to guide him? The surrounding dense frozen trees all looked the same in the bleak darkness. His only true measurement of time was the dream. How often it came to him, how many times it played through its entirety before it started again.

Fayne had never been troubled by nightmares or even unpleasant dreams before. But being in this place somehow altered him. He felt different here. Nothing obvious, just subtle things that he started to notice. When he first arrived here, he couldn’t even see it was so dark. But now, his vision allowed him clarity in his surroundings. It had also been difficult to do simple things with his body, such as walk. But again, now he could move with ease as he continued to remain. Normally he would take notice of these things with pleasure, but he now seemed incapable of such feelings. One thing he did know for certain was that the closer he got to her, the more intense and frequent he suffered the dream.

His only resolve was to be with her again. Mercy, his only love in life, was the only thing that kept him going in this place aside from his anger and hatred. She was the reason why he was here. The reason for the dream. The reason for his suffering.

The dream was the cause of his true pain and suffering. All it did was remind Fayne of his failures and shortcomings. Worst of all, it reminded him of what he could have had, what he should have had. But he had been too weak. He hadn’t been strong enough to hold onto what he loved most. But to get her back, to be with her again and tell her all the things he should have when he had the chance, he would take on the gods. He would challenge their decisions and fate itself.

The trees started to thin out as he neared the edge of the frozen woods. Fayne found himself in a clearing. With his new sight, he could see that it was truly barren. No trees, no plants, not even snow. How strange that he didn’t even notice that the cruel wind and snow had stopped with the woods. Here in the barren plain, it was still and calm. There was an air of eeriness to it with its empty space and littered rocks on the ground that sparkled from an unknown source.

A strange thing happened as he was standing at the edge of the woods, staring into the barren plain. He felt something start to creep over his body like it was going numb from the cold. It started with the tingling of his skin, then slowly crept into his head like ice forming on the ground. He felt something or someone. There was definitely something pulling at him from the other direction. He started in that direction, leaving that strange place behind in his search for answers.

The trees thinned out even more. Instead of having three within an arm’s reach, there was now only one within a few strides. They were going from being frozen to just being dead from the cold. Every step that he took, he felt the pull grow stronger. His pace quickened without him being aware of it. It was when he found himself running at full speed that he realized that he wasn’t even sure what he was running to. He felt like he was being led there, wherever he was going, like a bee being drawn to a flower.

Fayne stopped in mid-stride, stumbling as he regained his footing. Again, he scanned the surroundings, trying to get his bearings and figure out what was going on. So much was out of control in this place. He didn’t like that something could affect him so much without his consent. No one would ever have tried to mess with his mind in the past. No one would even try to challenge him. But here in this place, Fayne was insignificant. He wasn’t even a pawn in the grand scheme of things. He was nothing, indifferent. So if something was trying to get to him, it had to be deliberate. But there was nothing here. Fayne had been searching this place for answers for so long and had found nothing. No other living things. Not even a lost and lonely spirit roaming around.

Fayne was trying to figure out what was playing with his mind when it came to him. He took off in the direction that he felt his body wanting to go, that magnetic feeling growing stronger with each step. The closer he went to the source, the more urgent the feeling became. He knew it had to be her. It had to be Mercy calling for him, for she knew his mind and thoughts like no other. Finally, he had found her in this hell. Finally, he would have his chance for salvation and right the past.

CHAPTER 3

EVE

W

orking always helped her to forget. No matter how hard things got for her, she could always count on coming to work and losing herself. Here at this small coffee shop, The Dark Side Cafe, she was in charge.

She loved the cafe’s sleek look. It was almost menacing, with its black slate flooring and dark mahogany walls. The tables didn’t have any writing on them or checkerboards like the other stuffy places that littered the country. These tables were made of solid oak and looked like they were a hundred years old and would be around for at least another hundred. The chairs were the high-winged back type with deep soft cushions that she didn’t know the name of but loved nonetheless. Here, she decided how things would be. Here, she had friends, people who counted on her, and people who were happy to see her each time they came in. She was happy here and felt safe. No one would ever call her Freaky Eve because here, she fit in. She was normal. And her regulars were her favorite, and they all needed her.

Eve worked the night shift and closed often. Normally the cafe was open until two in the morning. But on Friday and Saturday nights, it was open until four. Eve was a night owl herself. Ever since she was a little girl, she preferred being awake at night rather than during the day. To her, the day was boring. She was a natural fit at the cafe.

None of the staff at The Dark Side knew of her dreams except for Roary, her best friend. She was just as tall as Eve, but where Eve’s skin was pale, Roary’s was dark, and her hair darker. Eve recalled Roary saying once that she was from the South, but without an accent, she didn’t know where exactly, which mattered nothing to her. Roary was the real salt of the earth, the kind of woman that saw through Eve’s feeble charades. She was able to see Eve for who she was and who she wanted to be. Eve loved her fiercely nearly the first moment they chatted. It didn’t matter to her that Roary was a Werepanther.

Of course, Roary knew of the endless nightmares that had plagued Eve ever since her dad had died. She also knew of her recent depression. The main reason why Eve loved Roary so much was because she never judged her. Roary always had an open mind and could be counted on for support. Today was no different when Eve limped into the cafe at sundown to start her shift.

Roary didn’t even hesitate when she saw her walk through the front door, looking as if she’d been run over by a train. From behind the red flecked dark marble counter, she quickly finished the latté she was making and rushed to her side, swinging her arm around Eve’s neck as if they were sharing a good joke.

Come on, let’s get you in the back, Roary said with concern as she guided Eve past the counter and out of view from the customers’ curious stares.

Thanks, Ro, but I’m all right.

Bullshit, girl. You can lie to that shit-head, Brad, but you can’t lie to me. Roary led Eve to a chair in the break room and glared at her. Waiting for her to come clean. After a long silence, she said, I’ll make some tea. And set out for the counter.

Eve sat back on the chair, wishing she was sitting on the comfy chairs in the front. They were so much softer than the cheap wood ones in the break room. She just needed some of Roary’s tea, and she would be fine. Eve asked her all the time what was in it, but all she would ever say was it was a family recipe. Whatever was in it always soothed her nerves and eased the pain. Roary returned quickly with the dark brew, setting it on the cheap Formica table in front of her.

Which one was it this time? Roary asked, knowing that there were usually only a few in the cruel rotation of nightmares.

Eve let out a heavy sigh as she picked up the thick heavy cup of tea, preparing herself for the shock of the bitter taste. The one where I’m being chased, she said in a small voice, but with a sense of relief that comes with telling someone your burdens.

Roary sat down heavily into the chair across from Eve, Damn, that’s the worst one, girl. You sure you’re all right?

My feet got pretty torn up, she said between swallows. Roary inhaled sharply, making a hissing sound. It was different this time, though, Ro, Eve said while fighting back the tears.

What happened? Roary was scared. She had been concerned for Eve for a while now. Her dreams had been getting worse and worse. And it had been harder and harder to pull her out of their effects. She had to start using the full strength of the tea, which of course, was not just a simple tea and not just for ordinary humans.

It almost got me this time, Eve said quietly. It lunged and grabbed me.

Roary jumped out of her chair and hurried over to Eve, checking her for cuts on her arms and neck. I’m all right, Ro. It didn’t get me, Eve said, pushing her off of her. She had to stand up and pace the room. Her emotions were cycling now to anger. That thing grabbed me. It fucking grabbed me with its, with its claws! Eve amped up her pacing. That thing, whatever the fuck it is, ruined my shirt. Shredded it to hell.

Roary asked cautiously, But you’re all right? It didn’t get you, just your shirt?

I told you I’m fine! Roary didn’t rise to the bait. She bit her tongue, though it hurt to do so. Sorry, sorry. I know you’re helping me. I love you, Ro, you know that, right?

I love you too, Eve. Don’t worry about it. She didn’t like the way this was going. Eve usually didn’t get this emotional or vocal. This depression she was stuck in was giving her nasty mood swings.

Well, the dream wasn’t the worse part of it, Eve explained. Brad had stayed the night, and he ah, he... Eve couldn’t get anything else out when she began to cry.

Ssshh, shhhh now, honey, Roary said, comforting her.

I don’t understand. Why? she said through sobs. Why is he like that?

I don’t know. Though she did. Roary hated Brad. Hated him from the moment she first saw him. She recognized him for the parasite he truly was and still is. The type of guy that fed on weak women. Sucks the life out of them, treating them like garbage, ruining them. Roary had been friends with Eve before Brad entered her life. She had tried to warn her, but how could she without being insulting? Roary hated him for making things harder on Eve. For making her hate herself for his own shortcomings.

Come on, girl. Let’s go out front. Maybe you’ll meet Prince Charming today, Roary said, trying anything to cheer her friend up.

I don’t want Prince Charming, Eve said as they walked to the front of the cafe, Right now, I’d settle for the Prince of Death. At least he could bring me peace.

That made Roary flinch. Eve had never said anything so morbid before. Roary was scared for her friend more now than ever. She had to do something to help her but didn’t know where to begin.

With the tea kicking in, Eve was in her groove. No longer bothered by the dream or its aftermath, she was in her element. The cafe’s dark and broody customers always had a smile for her. They always spoke to her with respect, and they always tipped well. The Dark Side mainly served coffee and tea, but it also served sweets… the kind of sweets that once you had one bite, you’re forever chasing that first sensory overload of pure pleasure. The chef who created these masterpieces in the back used to work in France. He had his own bakery there and did quite well. But tragedy had struck, which brought him to the states, and he never had the desire to own his own place again. He was happy just making his desserts, cakes, and pastries out of the back of someone else’s place. He fit right in at The Dark Side.

Hey Rudolph, how ya doing tonight? Eve asked while she brought some dirty plates into the kitchen.

I’m good, sugar. And come on, call me Rudy, he said in his enchanting French accent.

No can do. How often do you get to call someone Rudolph except around Christmas?

Fine, Rudy answered with a sigh. How about you? You look like you’re in a good mood.

Ya, I’m all right. I had a rough night, but Roary hooked me up with some of her magic tea.

You are the only woman I know who can stand to drink the stuff.

"It’s not that bad, Eve said. Once you get past that first bitter shock, it’s actually good. It’s like drinking in a warm bath. It just soothes all your aches and pains. Anyway, don’t forget about tomorrow night. I’ve been looking forward to it all week."

I’ll be there sugar, don’t worry, Rudy answered. They had been having cooking lessons over at Eve’s little apartment for a month now. Meeting once a week, Rudy had been trying to teach her the art of pastry. So far, she’d only been learning the basics, but she was starting to get the hang of it. Last week, she baked something that resembled a cupcake. It was supposed to be a popover, but that was beside the point.

Tonight was a busy night. Lots of people came and went, many of them staying for a while too. The busy rush helped distract Eve, never giving her mind a chance to wander off. She had already forgotten about the pain in her feet and was almost over the dream entirely until a rowdy group walked in. And right in the center of them was Brad, shoulder to shoulder with a raven-haired girl who Eve thought looked like an elf.

When Brad looked up and saw Eve staring at him, he quickly put some distance between himself and the girl. Elf girl got the hint, too, and leaned over onto one of the other males in the group as they made their way over to a recently vacated table. Brad smiled at Roary as he made his way to the counter. Roary just stared at him with disgust in her eyes. Brad didn’t even bat an eye, though. It was evident that he never liked Roary anyway.

Hey, what’s up? Brad said to Eve nonchalantly.

Eve paused, trying to process what she saw before she answered. The last time she spoke to Brad, he had said that he was going to be busy all day and night with something important. He left her last night just to make sure his sleep wouldn’t be disturbed. Just working. How was your day?

It was whatever, you know? he replied. He tried to slide his hand over hers on the countertop, but she pulled it away at the touch of his skin. Again, Brad acted as if nothing had happened. Either he couldn’t pick up on the subtlety, or he just didn’t give a shit. Hey, d’ya think you could hook us up? Brad whispered over the counter, flashing her one of his big smiles.

Yeah, sure, babe. I’ll bring it over to you.

Thanks, Eve, you’re the best. Brad walked back to the table of rowdy friends, rocking his fist and elbow back and forth as if he had just accomplished something great. Whoops and high fives could be heard as Eve quietly went to work, hooking Brad and his friends up with some free coffee.

Why do you put up with that crap, Eve? Roary asked.

Put up with what? It’s just coffee, Roary, Eve said through a forced smile.

You know damn well what. Roary’s patience for Brad was running at its end. He’s such an asshole. Look at what he’s doing. He’s all over her, she said, pointing in their direction.

Who? Her? She’s just one of his friends. Honestly, Ro, come on.

Come on yourself. He’s all up in her business. And if you can’t see that, then you’re blind, girl. Roary felt sorry for Eve.

It’s nothing, Ro. You don’t know what you’re talking about, Eve said in a snit. She put the coffees onto a tray with some danishes from under the display and carried it over to the noisy group. Some of the nearby tables had cleared when this rowdy bunch sat down. The customers shot Eve sad looks as they left like it was her fault.

Here you go, guys, Eve said as she set the tray onto the table. Everyone grabbed a cup and some sweets before the tray stopped moving. Do you think you guys can keep it down a little? she asked. Brad took his attention from the dark-haired girl long enough to look at Eve.

What? Why? he said quickly. What, we can’t enjoy ourselves? I thought this was a public place?

It is, babe. But some of the other customers would appreciate it if you could just tone it down a bit.

Who said that? Brad said loudly as he stood up from the table. He looked around the room, challenging them all with his arrogant eyes. Brad had such an attitude all the time, and he thought it made him invincible. He thought he was Brad-the-Man.

The place went silent as Brad felt all of the hostile stares at him. Eventually, one of the customers stood up from his table and walked over in Brad’s direction. All of the tables that he passed, the people there stood as well and followed.

It’s time for you and your friends here to leave, this bold patron said.

We’re not leaving until I feel like it, pal. You got a problem with that? Brad said as he stepped up in front of the guy’s face. His Brad-the-Man syndrome was kicking into high gear as he puffed out his chest.

The patron was calm as he leaned to the side and looked at the raven-haired girl that Brad had brought with him. Now. Before someone gets hurt.

All right, she said with a dramatic sigh. Come on, let’s go, guys.

Wait, what? What the fuck’s going on here? Brad said, looking around as his friends all stood up and headed for the door. Hey, I was talking to you, asshole. Don’t be a bitch by talking to the chick. Brad was still trying to intimidate the patron that had asked him to leave.

Come on, Brad, let’s go, insisted the raven-haired girl from the door.

You should listen to your friend, Brad. Before you get hurt. This brave patron was just staring at Brad, waiting for some sort of realization of just what kind of situation he was dealing with. Brad continued to stare back at the guy in front of him until he noticed something strange about his eyes.

They were just looking back at him, like any normal eyes, and then they sort of changed. The pupils elongated vertically, then dilated wide as the light reflected off of the back of them. They looked like the eyes of a giant cat. Suddenly, something registered across Brad’s face. He realized just what he was trying to pick a fight with. Then fear found its place in him.

Oh fuck. Uh, ssssorry. I was just leaving. Brad started to walk backward, tripping on a chair but keeping himself upright. When he got close to the door, he noticed that everyone else who was standing around staring at him had the same eyes. Brad turned around and ran through the door at full speed, flying past his female friend that he had brought with him.

You guys are jerks, she said as she followed him out the door.

Everyone started to laugh as they all went back to their seats.

What just happened? Eve asked Ro.

I think Brad just found out that this is a hangout for Weres.

Really? He didn’t know?

Come on, Eve. Look at the way he panicked. Brad’s a fucking idiot, Roary said loudly.

I second that, someone said from across the room.

Shut up, James, Roary yelled back without even looking. Then the guy who had stood up to Brad came walking over to them. His eyes were still those of a cat.

Sorry about that, Eve. I just couldn’t deal with him anymore, he said, kind of shyly.

I know, I know. But did you have to do that? Eve asked, staring at his eyes longer than she intended to. She loved cats and thought his eyes were nice.

Actually, yes. I did. Forgive me for saying this, but Brad is a real piece of shit, and you deserve better than that, he said.

What? Eve couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Does everyone here have an opinion on my relationship now? Eve said as she stomped off into the back, embarrassed for herself.

Smooth. Real smooth, Keith. I really think you made a lasting impression that time, Roary said.

Keith was wincing with what had just happened. Man, I messed that one up. I couldn’t help it, though. He’s such a shit, and I’m tired of watching him treat her like that. She deserves better than him. You know that.

It was no secret that Keith had a thing for Eve ever since he first saw her. He would have tried a while ago to ask her out, but the timing was always wrong. First, when she started working at the cafe, he was seeing someone. Then when that ended, he found out that she was with the asshole, Brad.

I don’t think that was the way for Eve to take to you, Keith. Just my opinion, though, Roary said.

At least I punked that little shit, though. Did you see the way he ran out?

Like the coward he is, Roary said. What was with that girl he brought with him? Who the hell is she, and what is she doing with Brad?

I think her name is Sasha. She’s with Neal’s pack, Keith said.

If she’s from Neal’s pack, she should know better than to waltz into here and stir up trouble, Ro said.

I know. I’ll have to tell my father, and we’ll go have a chat with Neal and see what’s going on. Anyway, I gotta go. Tell Eve that I didn’t mean to be such a jerk about it. I just couldn’t take him anymore. No, wait. Tell her that...

I’ll figure out what to tell her, Keith, okay? I’ll make you look good.

That brought a smile to Keith’s face. Thanks, Ro, you’re the best, he said as he left the cafe with his friends. Keith was the son of the pride leader for the local Were Mountain Lions. His father, Ron, would have to go over to Neal’s place and find out what happened before any retaliation could take place. That girl Sasha was a Werewolf, and she knew better than to walk into someone else’s place and stir up trouble. Either Neal was sending a message, or she was acting out. Either way, the two leaders would have to get together and talk it over. Weres reacted out of emotion most of the time without thinking things through. If a Werewolf came waltzing into a Were Mountain Lion’s hangout and started trouble, it usually started a nasty fight between the groups.

Not only was Neal the pack leader of the Werewolves, but he was their king. All Weres had a ruler over their groups, enforcing their own rules for each race. The king or queen received their position not from an inheritance but from fighting. They rule because they are the most fierce. Being an alpha wolf, Neal was a large man and ruled through intimidation. He would want to know if one of his wolves had gotten out of line.

Roary went into the back of the cafe to check on Eve. She was hoping that maybe this would be enough for Eve to break up with Brad, especially since he had the audacity to bring another girl to her place of work and flaunt her around.

All right, honey, the crowds are gone. You can come out now, Roary said as she walked into the break room. Eve was sitting at the table with her head in her hands.

What am I doing wrong, Ro? Why can everyone see something that I can’t? she said into her hands.

Roary sat beside her and wrapped her arm around her. Honestly?

Honestly, tell me the truth. I can take it. She picked her head up and focused her tear-streaked eyes on her best friend.

It’s because you’re weak. Ever since you started this depression shit, you’ve lost who you are. You’re at a crossroads, and currently the road you’ve chosen is the codependent one. And Brad is taking advantage of that, and of you. He’s a parasite that feeds on weakness. Everyone has been watching as he’s been feeding off of you. Tonight Keith just couldn’t watch anymore. He cares for you, and it tears him up inside to see you be treated that way. Roary stopped there, thinking that she had said enough.

Eve just sat there with a blank look on her face as she processed it all. Harsh as it was, it was true. All of it. She was weak. She had lost who she was, and she didn’t know where to start again. It wasn’t enough that strangers would tell her that Brad was taking advantage of her. But if Roary, her best friend in the whole world, tells her this, then she would listen. Brad had to go. She had to start her life again, and that life had no room for leaches. She needed to take care of herself.

All right then. It’s done. I’m done, she said as she sliced the air with her hands.

Done with what? Roary asked.

With him. It’s over. You’re right. I need to find myself again and start over. I can’t be this person any longer. I used to be stronger than this. I can be stronger than this.

Yes. You can. And I’ll be here for anything that you need. You know that.

I know, Eve said as she hugged her best friend. I love you, Ro. I really do. You’re my best friend. I don’t know where I’d be without you right now.

I love you too. Now stop before you make us both cry, all right?

They both got up and went out front to the waiting customers. Rudy was taking care of the counter, which he really didn’t like to do but did in a pinch. He gave them both an understanding look as he passed by them silently on his way back into the kitchen. He glanced back at them as he pushed through the doors toward the kitchen and saw that someone was peering at them from outside with a nasty look on her face. She had dark black hair like a crow’s feathers, and the look on her face promised violence. She wasn’t looking at him, though; she was looking at Eve.

CHAPTER 4

FAYNE

F

ayne didn’t dare make a sound as he slowly made his approach. He stopped and hid, not believing what his eyes were seeing. He knew this place was indeed strange and possessed the power to change you, but what he was looking at was impossible. The creatures he was seeing had not walked amongst others for more than seven centuries. These creatures no longer existed, yet here they were, and there they stood.

The stories told about them were designed to strike fear and awe into the hearts and minds of men. Fayne felt both and more, for the stories he had been told as a youth did not do justice to seeing them in the flesh if that was what they had. Even with his keen vision, he could not focus on them. They looked like men, yet he knew they were nothing like men. Their skin was so black that it reminded Fayne of spilled ink. He knew they were tall only because he had to look up to see them from where he had knelt behind a tree.

The creatures were dressed in full battle attire from when they last roamed amongst the living. The battle armor that covered their bodies was made from a material he didn’t recognize, but the style of it was similar to his own. Swords hung from both hips, and they wore cloth wrappings over their scalps instead of helmets. Something wasn’t right, however. They were casting looks all around them, looking for something or someone. Something had set them off. They were almost frantic with their urgency. Then one turned and looked directly at Fayne.

The creature’s violet eyes reflected the luminescent light that shone throughout this place. Those violet orbs were transfixed onto Fayne, glowing, holding him with their stare. Fayne couldn’t help but look back into those damn glowing eyes that held him in place and feel lost. He felt himself moving, tumbling down into their deep chasm of loss. At first, Fayne had thought he would find answers in those strange eyes, but as he fell into their grasp, he knew there were no answers to be found, only pain.

Fayne’s skin felt as if it were on fire, burning from the inside. He fell to the ground and writhed, pain shot throughout his entire body like lightning through a storm.

No, Fayne said to himself through his tightly clenched teeth. He would not fail now. These creatures would not be the end of him, not when he knew Mercy was so close. Not when she was calling for him, reaching out to him in her way.

Fayne used the pain from his time spent in this forsaken hell. It afforded him the distraction that he needed to pull himself together and break the stare. He closed his eyes and shook his head to clear his thoughts as he stood up.

He returned the