Page 22
Story: When Death Whispers
21
One second we’re laughing—really laughing, the kind that makes your sides hurt and your eyes water—and the next, there’s a knock at the door, nearly startling me out of my skin. I automatically get up to search for a towel to wipe up the tea I spilled as Hudson heads for the front door, muttering something about getting the groceries.
I smile to myself as I clean up the mess. My cheeks are still flushed from whatever silly romcom line that had us both wheezing with laughter.
Then I hear it.
A crack. A thud. A muffled curse.
And then nothing.
“Hudson?” I call, the smile dying on my lips.
No answer.
My feet are already moving before my brain catches up. “Hudson?” I call again, louder, stepping into the entry hall. But everything is quiet. Too quiet.
The door is cracked.
And cold dread slips through me like a blade.
I push the door open, and the pale, early morning light spills across the porch—but it’s too early, barely reaching the steps. The shadows haven’t retreated yet. They cling to the corners, to the warped slats of wood. Everywhere.
And there—just at the edge of the light—Hudson is sprawled like a ragdoll, one leg sunk clean through a board, his body half-slumped across the porch.
The grocery bags sit untouched at the bottom of the steps, still in perfect rows.
“H-Hudson—” I choke out, already lunging forward.
I hit my knees beside him, trying to lift him up. His eyes are open—but vacant. Distant. Like he’s here and not here all at once.
And then I see the shadows. They’re all over him, wrapping around his legs, slithering up his chest, spilling into his mouth like they’re stealing his very breath.
“No,” I whisper, voice trembling. “No no no, shit.”
I try pulling him up by his arms, bracing my feet against the porch, straining—but he’s too heavy. The shadows pull back like a riptide, dragging his body down. His leg is still caught, and I can’t get enough leverage.
“Come on, come on— ” I grit my teeth, straining as hard as I can, but he’s not budging.
The light isn’t strong enough out here—the shadows are winning.
“No. Please. Let him go. Please.” I beg my monster, but I know he won’t listen to my pleas. He never does. He claims what he wants and revels in my panic and fear.
Tears are streaming down my face while I try to pull him up and away from the hole in the porch, but I’m not strong enough.
I failed him. I knew he was in too much danger and I let him stay. I didn’t protect him like I said I would. My loyal, infuriatingly stubborn golden boy.
“Fuck!” I cry into the morning air, desperate for any idea that may help me get him out of the shadows’ clutches. If I could just have more light…
That’s always how I escape him. Light. Direct light. But I can’t let go of him to go grab a lamp or to flick the porch lights on. I doubt they would anyway. It’s his doing. He’s figured out a way to manipulate light into darkness.
That is until?—
“RAD!” I yell, even though I know I probably don’t need to. “Please Rad, help me. Please.” I chant his name over and over hoping he’s watching like he has been, that my pleas might be heard.
And as if I had manifested it, the lights flare to life above me on the porch, banishing all the shadowy corners and pulling an unnatural screech from below the porch where the darkness slithers back to. I grab hold of all of Hudson’s weight as he slumps further forward, now unconscious, but breathing.
Fuck. That was close. Too fucking close.
“That shadowy fucker is rather bold,” a dark amused voice says from behind me, the deep gravelly tone rolling over me and leaving a shiver of relief on my skin. The tug in my chest and the scent of brimstone and ash confirms who the voice belongs to. Rad.
I look over my shoulder to see the tall beast standing in my doorway inside the house, a casual relaxed expression on his face, sharp fangs glinting in the morning light.
God, am I happy to see him, even if he is some sort of demon I accidentally summoned.
He chuckles as if answering my thoughts but doesn’t move to help me carry Hudson, who may as well weigh a ton. I try to drag him back inside but I’m making very slow progress, my back already sweaty from the effort.
“Please help me,” I say again, not at all above begging if it’s going to help Hudson stay out of harm’s way.
“I’ll gladly do so, my Beholden, but it will come at a cost.” The beast, Rad, straightens up, something dark and intense now flashing in his glowing blue eyes and it makes me pause.
I should know better than to make a bargain with a creature not from this world, especially one that feels equal parts predator and protector.
But one look at Hudson’s pale skin and drawn features and the decision is made. I don’t know how to help him, I can’t carry him, I’m in way over my head.
I’ll pay the price, whatever it is, if it spares Hudson’s life.
I don’t have to voice my agreement out loud though, as Rad steps forward and lifts Hudson up, bridal style, like he’s as light as a feather, and promptly plops him on his back onto the couch.
I quickly close the door, and lock it, twice. Always twice.
I turn around to watch Hudson’s chest rise and fall, his breaths shallow but there, and my heart squeezes with unease and guilt.
It’s all my fault.
“Do not fret, my Beholden. Your golden boy will be okay. For now. A bit of sleep and he’ll be back to making sandwiches.”
My mouth drops open in shock and confusion, his words spoken loud and clear, but the ridiculousness of his statement makes me shake my head in bewilderment.
Sandwiches? Really?
And that’s when I remember the groceries left outside.
I turn toward the door, but he steps into my space then, towering over me, and blocking my path. His furred form takes over all the air in the room, power rippling from him like something I can almost see. He just stands there, waiting, and I look up, and up, until our gazes are locked and the intensity builds in the small space between us.
The urge to touch his fur is strong again, and my hands act before the thought forms fully, my fingers sinking into the soft hair on his chest.
I feel more than hear the pleased purr in his chest and it sends goosebumps down my arms.
The heat from his body sinks into me, making me feel like I might melt at his feet. Fear and adrenaline taper off into exhaustion, thick and heavy in my limbs. My head lolls against his chest, fingers still absently curling in his fur as his purring deepens, reverberating through my bones like a lullaby.
His clawed hand brushes over my hair, a dark, possessive touch.
“Sleep, Parker,” he murmurs. “I will claim your dreams as part of our bargain.”
Table of Contents
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- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22 (Reading here)
- Page 23
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