The Angel of Elydria (The Dawn Mirror Chronicles Book 1) (4 page)

“She doesn’t
hate
you,” Paulina admonished with a frown. “She just―”

“I think you’ve forgotten how she refers to me as ‘the shame of the family.’ The reason ‘your life is in shambles’ was how she put it.” Penny put on a shrill voice and wagged her finger, “
Where
does
that girl get the nerve
to exist? Honestly! In my day we never dared to be born if―”

“That’s enough.” Paulina’s voice held a hint of danger, but Penny bore a defiant smile. “There’s food for you in the fridge, and
please
will you get to bed at a reasonable hour? Also, you might want to take one of the aquamarines with you before you go if you think that creep is still out there; they’ll protect your aura from negative energy. Oh, and if you’re feeling
particularly
troubled, go ahead and borrow one of the silver rune pendants we got in last week―those’ll keep you safe for sure,” Paulina insisted.

Penny snorted and nodded. “Thanks, Mom, I’ll see you Monday. Be safe, and have fun with the dragon lady.” She jumped up as Paulina was about to leave. “Oh, and don’t forget your glasses!” She plucked her mother’s glasses from the display counter and handed them to her. Paulina pulled her into a tight hug, pressed the car keys into Penny’s hand, then bustled out the door and was gone.

P
enny spent the rest of her shift at Willow Street Wonders convincing herself that everything was all right.

The rainstorm banished any hope of customers dropping by. Early afternoon melted into twilight and Penny remained at her post, lost in silent introspection. She sat on the stool behind the counter as figurines of old, forgotten gods and heroes watched her with unseeing eyes. Beside them were curtains of talismans and amulets, and jeweled dragonflies perched among darks rows of incense and dried herbs. Penny tapped at the crystal ball on the counter beside her, amusing herself with the warped vision of the arabesque shop.

Prickles of worry that Simon Shaw might return nagged at her, but after a few hours of unrelenting rain, Penny started to believe that she was safe.

It hardly seems real now. Maybe I did imagine it
…she thought and tried to whistle, but the sound died on her lips. The cloud-covered sun had long since sunk behind the mountains and shadow had swallowed up the world. The only source of light was a lamp with a stained-glass shade.

Uncomfortable, Penny shifted and grabbed a magazine from underneath the counter. The cover showed a doctored image of a flying saucer looming above some nameless desert city. Penny flipped the magazine open with reservations. When seven-thirty came around at last, she’d had enough.

Not even the zealots are going to come around in this weather
, she thought as she rose and undid her shop apron. Finishing her closing duties, Penny made sure to triple-check everything before clicking off the light and locking up.

Moving through Willow Street Wonders in the dark had always been eerie, and the noise from the raging storm did not ease the oppressive sensation that made her skin rise with goose bumps. Penny walked along the walls in the darkness with her hand extended and felt her fingertips graze cold metal. From the weak glow of the streetlamps she could see fragments of silver tinkling against each other. Penny removed one of the pendants from its identical siblings. It was one of the silver rune pendants her mother had mentioned; they’d received a small shipment of them from somewhere in Europe last week. Penny examined the silver disc with runic carvings. With the reassurance of knowing no one could witness her lapse in rationality, she hung the black cord around her neck.

It
is
supposed to be a very powerful talisman. I’ll just borrow it for the night
.

Penny drove home with her brain on auto-pilot and sloshed to her front door through the torrents of rain. She scowled as she stepped through the doorway. Her mother hadn’t left the heater on. She tossed her bag in the corner and raced upstairs to shower.

The night drifted away and Penny found herself curled up in bed with
Murder at Woodrow Manor,
flipping through the pages and relishing the most dramatic twists of the story. Beside her bed were a stack of novels of the same genre that she had already devoured.

Seven-and-a-half chapters later Penny was fast asleep, one hand still clinging to the book. Somewhere past midnight, she woke with a start as a tortured wail split the night.

Penny sat bolt upright in bed, her chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. The room was plunged in thick darkness and objects that she knew were mere inches away had become invisible. Though she guessed the sound might have been from a waking dream, Penny had never felt more paralyzed with fear in her life.

It had been a wretched chimera of screams; the voice of a dying animal, the wail of a baby, a Styrofoam shriek, metal grinding against itself―and yet none of those things. It was alive―but no human could have produced that cry. The small hairs on Penny’s arms prickled as she strained to listen for something more. Another realization swept over her.

I fell asleep as I was reading. I left the lights on
―
I know I did.

Nauseating horror enveloped her. Reeling, she jumped out of bed and threw herself against her bedroom door that stood ajar. The bang of the door snapping shut echoed throughout the house and she fumbled to lock it with trembling hands. She backed away, half expecting something to begin pounding on it from the other side.

What should I do, what should I do?
Penny thought in a panic, standing in the center of the room and hugging herself.
Should I wait to see if it happens again? What if it does? What if it doesn’t?
What
was
it?!

“I’ve been having weird dreams lately. It was just a dream…just a dream…” her voice sounded meager in the overbearing darkness, like a tiny boat lost at sea. “The power’s out because of the rain. There’s nothing wrong…I’m okay.” She took a deep, shuddering breath and began to recover.

The scream tore through the night again, this time a guttural bellow that oozed with agony and rage. It was so loud it seemed to resonate within her chest, and Penny cringed downward with a frantic yelp. It had come from right outside the house.

Whimpering as her body rocked with tremors, Penny crawled over to the window. She crouched just below it, dominated by fear for several long, uneventful moments until her curiosity beseeched her to look outside. With the utmost caution she lifted her eyes above the ledge of her windowsill and peeked out through the gap in her curtains.

Through the thick sheets of rain and sloshing murkiness of the woods beyond the glass, Penny scanned the scene for anything out of the ordinary. Dreading the worst, she was surprised to find that there was nothing but the pines thrashing in the wind.

Am I seriously going crazy here?

Penny gripped her hair, wondering where she had left her cell phone. Calling for help was starting to seem like a better idea by the second. Before Penny could move to find it, out of the trees lurched an abomination so hideous it convinced her that her blood could freeze. The arms were disproportionately long and pale as an exhumed corpse. Ugly splotches of grayish-pink mottled the waxy flesh. With a speed Penny did not anticipate from something that looked so decayed, it burst into the street with a gut-wrenching leap.

Penny felt her consciousness slipping when she saw its face and grasped the wall for support. It looked as though it had once been human, but the eyes were huge and filmy white, and the lower jaw had been reduced to a few splinters of twisted bone. A serpentine, venom-black tongue lolled and surged from its throat. From its elbows, spine, and rib-cage sprouted thorny bones that pierced through the skin and shredded the remnants of something that might’ve once been clothing. Its mangled face contorted in unfocused wrath. With a sharp glance upward, as if it had spotted her peering at it from the window, it lunged forward, crawling on its belly with a swiftness that made Penny’s stomach pinch.

Penny whimpered, unhinged by terror, and skittered across the floor in frantic desperation, knocking over the stack of books beside her bed. Between great, gasping breaths, Penny tried to focus, her eyes scanning the dark shapes of her room for a weapon of some sort and finding nothing. A deafening crash downstairs elicited from her a scream and a peal of dread. Penny almost wept from the fresh wave of despair that smothered her.
Oh God. Now it knows where I am.

Unable to think, Penny backed against the wall as blood-curdling howls roared downstairs. Things once treasured could be heard shattering to bits on the ground.

I can’t believe this…I’m going to die here. Ripped to pieces. This is really it. This is how it happens.
Penny’s mind raced as a cold stillness took over her body and she clung to every minute detail in her diminishing time. She hugged her shoulders, cringing from the crashing noises intensifying by the moment. Footsteps pounded on the stairs and down the hall. It was over.

A crippling shock jolted through her body as the bedroom door was thrown open and a face came out of the darkness.

A familiar face. A friendly face.

“P-P-Professor Arlington?!”
Penny gasped, not daring to believe her eyes.

P
enny’s breath caught in her lungs as she gaped at her literature professor. Not wasting a moment he grabbed Penny’s hand and dragged her into the hall.

“Are you hurt?” He looked her over, his voice strong but coursing with panic.

“No! B-but, Professor! There’s―there’s a m-mon―”

“Don’t worry. I dealt with it accordingly.” Their eyes locked in an intense gaze, but the room was too dark for Penny to make out his expression. He let go of her hand, pushed his glasses up, then seized Penny by her upper arm and led her down the stairs. The fright that had lessened at his appearance flared up again.

“Where are we going?” Penny cried.

“Somewhere safe,” Professor Arlington answered.

Downstairs Penny choked, inhaling an acrid, oily, burning smell. The furniture lay in pieces all over the floor. Fragments of broken glass caught the feeble light, and at the edge of the room a smoldering heap of greasy ashes piled around scorched bones. It was now apparent what had become of the monster. Penny halted to goggle at the sight, but Professor Arlington jerked her along without missing a step. The front door had been knocked completely off its hinges. Realizing that the professor was planning on leading her outside, she ripped her arm away and retreated a few paces. He blinked at her, seeming taken aback by her reaction.

“I’m not going out there!” she warbled. Outside, the rain was a veritable cascade and Penny was barefoot and still dressed in her pajamas. Professor Arlington’s brow furrowed and he grabbed her again, this time latching on with a stronger grip.

“OW! Hey!”

Professor Arlington forced a resisting Penny over the slippery door and into the rain. Penny dug her heels into the mud in an attempt to free her arm.