Take a closer look at Darkness Calls:

I wanted to give you all a little peek at Darkness Calls, so here is the first chapter!! 

 

Chapter 1

Ari

"I don't know who you are, but I have to."

I am dreaming I know I am, but that doesn't lessen the realness of the images or the sound of his voice pulling every part of me to him. Fingers twine through my dark hair at the base of my neck. My hands move to lay flat on his chest. He stands behind me, arms wrapping around my waist, my arms over top of his, our hands linked.

And so on the flashes come frozen in individual pieces, with someone I don't know and whose face I can't see. I feel unsure if this is my mind playing tricks on me or just an extremely realistic dream.

My heart tries to race and swell to twice its size all at the same time. I've never felt so fulfilled in my life, so happy, as I am in this dream. Power courses through me as my hand links with his while an amazing current flows between us. I am made for him. An icy fire runs through my veins signaling a feeling that strikes straight to my heart. Instantly I know any previous notion of the idea that I may have experienced this feeling before is absurd. This is...

No, no...no...no. The pounding came from somewhere, it pulled me from my dream I didn't want to leave. Consciousness washed over me gradually, and I pulled myself out of bed and down the stairs to the front door.

The wood of the door was snug from the daytime humidity arriving sooner than expected this year. I knew Cam would be on the other side of the door reminding me of something I was late for or forgot...or both.

“Seriously, Ari,” he sounded exasperated. “Ten minutes! What are you doing in here?”

I glanced at him sheepishly, “I was, um...I was sleeping, okay! And just so you know you interrupted an amazing dream.” I smacked him on his arm when his eye brows shot up at me.

“Dreaming about me?” Cam's voice went up on the last word as he walked into the house. He was laughing at me, and I knew it was because my face flushed a little at the thought of the dream.

“Ha, ha, ha," I respond sarcastically. "No it wasn't about you. You wish,” I turned to head up the stairs. “Come on, you can help me get ready.”

“What's so funny about you dreaming about me,” he asked as he chased me up the stairs. In typical me fashion I tripped and almost took us both tumbling down the stairs.

Cam took me into his arms as I fell face forward and his warmth wrapped around me. I clutched on to him as he spun me into his chest and regained my balance for me. Reluctantly my grip released from his shoulders, fingertips sliding down either side of his neck, across his collar bones, to his chest where they rested. Shifting my weight back my face was inches from Cam's. I felt his heart beat quicken under my fingertips.

Cam pulled back slightly but quickly. We stood there for brief seconds before he offered me his hand, our fingers lacing together as we made it the rest of the way to my room.

I rummaged through my closet to find something suitable to wear. Today was not only my seventeenth birthday, but also the anniversary of my mother's death. My dad and I had a dinner date to celebrate. Even though I don't want to go.

"Are you sure you won't come with me, Cam?" I called out to him as he sat in an oversized black velvet chair outside my closet door while I changed over and over again.

"I think you should just go this time. I'm sure your dad would appreciate being able to see you every once in a while without me there." Cam knew that wasn't true, knew how my dad felt about him, there wouldn't be any issue if he came with me tonight.

I threw on my black skinny jeans, oversized white tee with a mustard yellow scarf draped around the neck, and some black ballet flats; I had my black leather jacket in tow in case I needed it. The wind in Chicago can be otherworldly sometimes. Even in early May, especially at night, a jacket is never futile.

I could already envision my dad rolling his eyes at what I had on. He would tell me not to be like the mother I never met. Like I'm able to control what genetics gave me. My mom was beautiful and strong willed, smart and edgy, and I hoped I did take after her no matter what my dad said about it. Whenever she was brought up, or any conversation where she was mentioned, my dad only looked pained and whispered, "You don't know what you're asking for," while he looked at the floor shaking his head.

Yet, when I tried to question him further, get some kind of actual response out of him where my mom was concerned, he never complied. I always received the same terse look and reply to worrying about what I had control over, not the things from the past that I didn't. But being seventeen and only knowing your mother died in labor just plain old sucks.

Pushing the thoughts of my mom to the back of my mind I walked out of the closet. With a little spin I showed off my clothes waiting for Cam's reaction. As my eyes leveled on his face I noticed his golden brown hair was longer than usual, setting off his crystal blue eyes.

Cam was stunningly golden. He was tall and muscular – not lifting-weights-in-all-my-spare-time muscular, but more of I'm-in-really-good-shape-because-I-play-every-sport-you-could-think-of muscular – with broad shoulders. Skin perfectly kissed by the sun, when light played on his medium blond hair the color of molten gold shone through.

He was reclined back with his hands folded behind his head, one leg over the arm of the chair, the other stretched out in front of him to the floor. He smiled at me, though I wasn't sure if it was for me or the outfit, and I internally yelled at myself when realizing I cared what the answer to that question would be.

"You look great." He regarded me slowly, letting his eyes linger over every part of my body they had access too, trailing the planes of my face and settling contently on my eyes. Every time he looked at me in that way that said he knew me better than I knew myself, it made my heart skip a beat.

My face probably turned an even brighter shade because a smile lit up his face. The emotions swirling around him spoke more than words. Their wave came across, and as usual attached to them was shadowed grey and black.

I've dealt with these palpable, tangible emotions for as long as I can remember, but recently they've become stronger. I don't have to exert myself to be able to see the murky shades linger around someone any more. If the emotion is strong enough, or dark enough, it shows itself to me writhing with an internal pulse. I'm drawn to it, want to reach out and touch it, and pull it close to me.

I realize how crazy that seems in my head, and anyone who saw how transfixed I was would definitely think I was out of my mind. Pushing the darkness away and moving on from it has become my normal reaction. Each time it happens I grow more anxious to figure out what is going on with me.

Is this what my dad means when he refers to my mom? Was she crazy? Did she pass some weird hallucination disorder to me? I need to just make him sit down and talk to me, answer my questions, because the more time that passes dealing with the shadows the more off balance I feel. I don't understand it, but the way my dad has always watched me closely, like he's just waiting for me to lose my mind, makes me think he has the answers. I plan on getting those at dinner tonight.

The glaze dissipates from my eyes and refocuses on Cam who is shaking his head. He stands and steps toward me reaching for my hand. His fingertips brush the inside of my wrist before lacing with mine, and my heart quickens from his touch. "Come on, we should get you downstairs so you don't keep the car waiting. You don't want to be late for your reservations...your dad would flip."

Cam and I have danced around our relationship for months now. About six months ago we were in line to get into a club. Some girl approached Cam asking if he wanted to hang out, which is slut for make out, inside the club. Out of nowhere I felt like I was choking on jealousy.

I started to turn my back to them because for the first time since we were five I didn't want to see Cam flirt and hook up with another girl. Before he physically touched me I felt him. He wrapped his fingers around my waist touching the skin peeking out from my shirt, leaving a trail of heat wherever he touched. Reeling me to his side he declined the skankarific offer from the girl.

After she walked away with one of the best pinched bitch faces I've seen he asked, "Was that okay?" He didn't meet my eyes, and I knew he wouldn't come right out and say specifically what he meant, but I knew. "I just, you know, didn't want to ditch you tonight and I was trying to come up with the easiest way to make her leave."

I told him it was fine as he removed the security of his hand from my waist. He must have felt like he lost something when he let go of me too, because his hand found mine. Ever since that night it's a game back and forth. We aren't together, we don't mess around, but each of us knows there are feelings there for the other. Losing a best friend you've had since you were five is reason enough to not act on the feelings.

A black sedan pulled up to the house and I almost broke down and begged Cam to come with me. I had a few tricks up my sleeve, normal girl stuff like making a sad pouted face and laying on a thick guilt trip about ruining my birthday.

"I already know what you're thinking of doing, Ari, so don't try it," he tried really hard to sound serious. My bottom lip pouted and sad eyes bore into him. "Those beautiful green eyes don't fool me for a second, but please stop." Laughter exploded from my mouth as I mimicked him, 'but please stop', and Cam chased me down the stairs.

He caught me and spun me around, pressing me up against the wall. It went from playful, to me being painfully aware of every inch of his body touching mine in less than a second. My chest pressed into his; I could feel his stomach against me, our thighs touched, his left hand was as low as it could possibly get on my back, and his right hand was up above my head pressing on the wall.

Waves of lust, doubt, and need emanated through him. His lips were so close to mine I'd barely have to move to close the space. When his mouth moved right next to my ear, warm breath caressing my neck, it sent a shiver through me. "Don't make fun of me," a whispered tease into my ear, laced heavily with need I could taste. The side of Cam's lips brushed my jaw line as he pulled his head back from my ear. My breath hitched, heart pounding.

The car outside honked. Instantly, our connection broke and Cam flew back from me like I was scalding every part of his body touching me. "I'm sorry, we...can't..." He muttered as he gripped the back of his neck and stared at the floor. "We can't ever," he looked back at me, his eyes full of loss. "Just call me later and let me know how dinner went." He gave me a quick hug, leaving a kiss on my forehead, before bolting out the front door. I headed out to the car.

The wind picked up throwing the smell of cool crispness clear in the air. Only in the mid-west would winter try to make a comeback in May as if it needed to seep into my bones to give itself life. The leaves and branches swayed with every gust that blew. The weather here has multiple personalities.

Any other time I loved to look out the window as I got closer to the city, looking at the way the lights danced in the sky across the skyscrapers, but tonight I was just cold. Something strange simmered in my gut, unease I'd guessed. I felt that if anyone else had been in the car with me they wouldn't notice the chill. It was a feeling of someone watching me; I knew something was off, putting me in a place of restlessness.

The sedan pulled up in front of the restaurant. Before opening the door and spotting my dad, along with a grimace as he looked me up and down, I attempted to put my jitters to the back of my mind.

"You didn't have anything else you could have worn, Arianna?"

"Sure I had other things, Michael, but I thought you would have disapproved of them even more. I call this playing it safe," I snapped back. "Man. Would a simple, 'Happy Birthday, Arianna,' have killed you?"

"Do not call me Michael, I am your father, address me as such. And you know you are such a beautiful girl, I wish you would just dress that way." A look of defeat already crossed his face. We had this exact conversation so many times I couldn't even keep count any more. "Enough of this anyway, we are here to celebrate your birthday, regardless of what you have on." He said it with a sigh, eyes constantly moving about. "Happy Birthday...should we go in? Our table is waiting."

The hostess' eyes locked with my dad the second we walked into the restaurant. "Mr. Light, it's such a pleasure to have you dinning with us this evening. This must be your beautiful daughter, Arianna?" Her eyes met mine and I nodded with disinterest. "Well, Happy Birthday to you dear, let me show you two to your table."

Our table was way in the back of the restaurant and all the tables around were empty which didn't add up considering the line of people outside waiting to be seated. Fussing and making a comment about how he didn't have to go to all the trouble would be wasted on my dad, so instead he ordered for us and we sat in silence for what seemed an eternity.

"Dad," I started out with a normal tone of voice figuring that might actually help in achieving my verbal goal tonight.

"Arianna," he said slowly, not letting me continue, as he moved his hand and placed it on mine, "there are some things you and I need to sit and talk about." My dad sat motionless, contemplating what he was going to say. The fact that there was anything to consider, reset my nerves on edge, and I rubbed my palms on my jeans to dry the gleam of sweat.

I scowled. Right then the food showed up, he mentioned talking about it back home tonight, just to eat and enjoy the meal together.

"No. There is no reason you can't have a conversation with me during the birthday dinner you made me come to. I want to know what Cam meant today about, "we can never", and why you are acting weird tonight, and if I have whatever mom had...and don't you dare tell me nothing was wrong with her, and what is going on with me, and...and...between myself and you and Cam I feel like I'm going crazy." All niceness was wiped from my voice, not that I remember it showing up tonight in the first place.

"Arianna, there are some things," he paused. The waitress came back to the table to check on us even though neither of us had taken a bite. Once she left he continued, "Decisions I have made to protect you, to keep you safe. Bringing Camden into your life so early was one of those things, but keeping him in the...position...he is in when it comes to you is where he will stay. He knows that, knew it from the beginning, so I dare say you are the one that is confused. No matter what Camden said, he will only ever see you as a friend."

Heat rose to my face, tears started to sting my eyes, in total embarrassment. Every single word he said replayed through my mind. As if that wasn't enough, he kept talking.

"Like I said before, you are seventeen now and there are several things we need to sit down and discuss, things about who we are, who you are. And...your mother. You are special Arianna, but there is an order to things that will not get messed up. Whether you like any of what I have to tell you or not, you will do as I say, you have no choice."

He regarded me as if he understood what was going on in my head. For a brief flitting moment I thought maybe for once we might actually have a real conversation. Then the look vanished from his face with the blink of an eye. "I know this has not and will not be easy for you, but I have tried to protect you for as long as I can. Now there is only so much I can do. Why don't we head home, huh? We can talk more there."

"Sure." What else was I going to say? Maybe leaving with him now and not backing down on getting to the bottom of everything I want answers to was the best chance I had at getting him to talk.

The hallway out the back of the restaurant began almost directly behind the table to the right. There was a set of stairs that looked as if it went up to at least one apartment above the place. We passed the bathrooms on the left and a couple entrances to the kitchen on the right. We exited out the back doors.

As we headed out around the back of the building to the car, my father paused and went completely still. The air around us changed, becoming more taught and tense, then everything as I knew it changed in an instant.

He grasped my hand spinning me toward him so I looked right into his eyes. "If there is one thing you never question it's that you are my daughter, do you understand?" His blue eyes became so intense it looked as if they were glowing, and he dropped my hand only to run his fingers back and forth over the top of his head. That's when I heard his voice in my head even though his lips weren't moving.

"Arianna, you need to go back into the restaurant quickly. There are stairs right behind the table we were sitting at; take those to the top and go into the room that sits on the right hand side of the stairs. And hide, Arianna, HIDE. Do not come out until you hear silence in the restaurant. Then go home and find the map under my bed and follow it exactly. I love you, now go!"

I was stuck in place. My father's voice broke into my head, "GO!" I took off running only looking back as I cleared the threshold and was shrouded in shadow. Two men came from around the corner. My hands enveloped my mouth holding the impending scream in. They took him, took my father and left me with no idea who they were or where they would take him. I knew, though I didn't know how, that they would come for me next, and I ran.

I did exactly as my father said and made it up the stairs and into the room much faster than I should have been able to. There was an armoire off to the side that I quickly climbed into hoping if I stayed quiet enough no one would even think to come looking for me up there.

Time passed painfully slow, every passing second came with the realization that it would be harder to find him. The noise downstairs kept up for a while, and there wasn't much to do except sit and count every spider web in the closet where I hid. It smelled musty and dusty; the only light from a small line where the two sides to the closet door didn't match flush to one another.

Sitting there I wondered why he didn't fight, why he just let them take him like that. All my personal thoughts from dinner came rushing back into my head and it dawned on me. He knew this was coming; knew something huge was about to change, his cryptic words said as much.

Frustrated with trying to understand why he didn't prepare me fully with whatever information he seemed he wanted to give tonight, as indignant as I was, I couldn't focus on that. I had to find my dad.