Born of Darkness

by Rita Vetere

Genres: Thrillers; Supernatural suspense; Paranormal

Synopsis

There's no escaping black karma, even for immortals. Meet Jasmine Fairchild, outrageously gorgeous and extremely persuasive -- unnaturally so. Jasmine is a Cambion, part mortal, part succubus. Enter Ahriman, an ancient and evil incubus. For centuries, he has exploited the secrets of reincarnation to reach his goal of immortality and the eradication of humanity. All he needs now is a portal, an opportunity. . .and Jasmine. She stands alone as the only force powerful enough to immortalize or destroy him, and her dual nature makes Ahriman's task a little tougher than he thought. . . 22,000 Words

Release date: June 15, 2009

Publisher: Lyrical Press

Print pages: 300

Sample

 

Chapter 1

Morocco, 1987

 

As she walked hand-in-hand with Charlie on the way to the train station in Casablanca, Lilli Fairchild could not help but hum the tune to the popular Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young song she’d loved as a teenager. There really was a Marrakesh Express, and they were about to board the train immortalized by the song. She turned to Charlie, who chuckled under his breath.

“That song’s been going around in my head all morning too.”

What a holiday this was turning out to be, and how like Charlie to select an exotic destination like Morocco when surprising her with tickets for a trip. After two years of being married to Charlie, she had come to love his penchant for the unusual, and to expect the unexpected.

Charlie held the door for her as she entered the surprisingly modern train depot. Although modestly dressed in red cotton capris, white t-shirt and tan sandals, Lilli couldn’t help but notice heads turning as she entered the station, more or less the same way they did back home in Tampa. Mostly, it was her thick mane of blond hair, falling in waves to the middle of her back, people noticed first, then her creamy complexion, tall, slender build and long legs. The graceful way she moved, in spite of her height, seemed to add to the attraction. Charlie had always told her it was her dazzling smile that attracted people to her, one reaching all the way to her long-lashed, hazel eyes. When Lilli smiled, people just could not help smiling back.

The stares continued as Charlie joined her inside and took her hand. Back home, people often commented on what a striking couple they made. Charlie seemed perpetually unconscious of his own darkly handsome looks. His glossy black curls, a gift from his mother whose ancestry was Greek, were combed back, away from his face. Charlie’s eyes, in contrast to his olive complexion, were sky-blue and arresting. He stood a good six inches taller than Lilli at six-foot-two, with an athletic build and muscular arms and legs. His strong features lent him an authoritative, serious look that belied his good humor and easygoing personality.

They had arrived in Casablanca the day before yesterday. The next day, they explored the maze of streets in the medina, the old, walled part of the city, and strolled along the esplanade where they watched the waves crashing onto the rocks. Then, last night, when an American couple they shared dinner with mentioned they had just returned from Marrakesh, which they said was not to be missed, he and Lilli decided to spend a few days at the popular destination. Whatever they had missed in Casablanca, they would have time to explore when they got back. So, after packing enough for two or three days and arranging for a hotel in Marrakesh through the helpful staff at their hotel, they found themselves at the station, about to board the train that would deposit them in the exotic city four hours to the south.

They did not have to leave the brilliant sunshine behind for long. After Charlie purchased their tickets, they moved onto an open platform where a red and yellow train awaited its passengers. Fifteen minutes later, Lilli and Charlie took their seats in a comfortable first-class compartment and the Marrakesh Express left the station.

The train wound its way past the slums on the outskirts of the city, where some of the homes were no more than poorly constructed huts, but soon the train moved into the plains to the south, where only the distant hills broke up the vista of endless fields for the next hour and a half. The unchanging scenery and the steady clickety-clack rhythm of the train eventually lulled them into silence. Before long, Charlie dozed off in the late morning sunshine. From her straw bag, Lilli removed the small book on Marrakesh she had purchased at the station and began to read.

Sometime later, Charlie’s eyes opened and he stretched, smiling. “Are we there yet?”

“Almost, I think.”

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” he said, moving from his window seat to the empty one next to her. He kissed her, letting his lips linger on hers for a bit.

Lilli could barely contain her excitement. “This is going to be so much fun. Our hotel’s right next to the biggest square in all of North Africa,” she said, checking the book for the name. “It’s called ‘Djemma el Fna’ and the souks are just behind the square. We can pick up some souvenirs there to take back with us.”

“Sure. The couple last night said we’d find lots of great stuff in the market.”

When the train arrived in Marrakesh, they were met with chaos outside the station. Everyone scrambled for a taxi, luggage in hand. Charlie managed to get one fairly quickly and waved Lilli over. After stashing their hand luggage in the trunk, they got into the back seat and Charlie gave the driver the name of their hotel, or riad, as it was called. The taxi drove along the wide, treed boulevards of the Ville Nouvelle, the newer part of the city built by the French, to the ancient walled part of the city.

They entered the medina through a horseshoe-shaped gate called Bab Agnaou. The opening was not overly large, but managed to look impressive, carved with floral decorations and an inscription of some sort. The antiquated wall, a sun-bleached shade of ochre, gave Lilli the feeling they were entering a different era. The sensation intensified after they passed through the gate. The ancient clay and limestone walls of the structures inside the medina and the arches over the narrow alleys were tinged in hues varying from red to salmon. The local women were veiled from head to toe with only latticed fabric at the eyes. As they drove along, she could see some of the residents as they turned toward Mecca to pray, first standing, bowing in prostration then kneeling. Cars and motorized bicycles shared the roadway with donkeys pulling carts.

She looked at Charlie in surprise when the driver pulled up in front of a dark, tunnel-like alley and announced their arrival. She was even more surprised when he told them the only way to enter the riad was through the alley, on foot. Wondering if they had been misled by the hotel staff in Casablanca, Lilli exited the taxi while Charlie paid the driver for the trip, removed their luggage from the trunk, and then joined her at the dim entranceway to the alley.

“This is safe, right?” she asked, a trifle nervous.

Charlie smiled and took her hand. “Of course it’s safe. C’mon. Think of it as an adventure.”

They made their way along the shadowy passage, taking care not to trip on the uneven stones beneath their feet, their arms brushing against the rough walls on either side of the narrow, winding alley. The smell of unfamiliar cooking mingled with the dank odor of the alleyway, once again giving Lilli the sense of having stepped into the past. At the end of the passageway, they arrived in front of a large wooden door and entered, not sure what to expect, and found themselves on the sumptuous ground level of the riad.

“Wow, it’s like a small palace,” she said, looking around in awe at the luxurious place.

The three-level structure was built around an open, marble-floored courtyard. A stone lion’s-head fountain, from which sun-dappled water flowed into a tiny pool, took center stage. Pink rose blossoms covered most of the surface of the cobalt water, filling the air with their scent. Several wooden tables were set up around the fountain for open air dining, and large, flowering potted plants adorned the corners, where stone pillars supported the second story.

Charlie, who appeared equally impressed by the opulent place, took her hand as they walked around the rest of the main level. The sofas arranged against the latticed walls of the main floor sat low to the ground, with plush seat and back pillows covered in silk. Side pillows of velvet were fringed, or bore silk tassels. Many interesting decorative items were one display—exotic Hookah pipes, brass teapots and lanterns, indigo blue tea glasses trimmed in silver, picture books on Morocco.

A tall, swarthy-looking fellow walked over and introduced himself. “I am Khalid, the proprietor. Welcome.”

Charlie introduced himself, and they followed Khalid to the front desk. After they registered, Khalid led them up the worn stone steps of the stairway in the far corner. The decorative wrought iron rail flanking the stairs also ran along each tier of the riad. The hallway on all three stories overlooked the courtyard.

Lilli was delighted with the third floor terrace suite Khalid ushered them into. The bed, although huge, appeared cozy, nestled inside a niche shaped like a keyhole. The silk coverlet, striped in varying hues of plum, lavender and mauve, looked luxurious but inviting. In the sitting area, two silk-covered benches faced each other, adorned with throw pillows in shades of lime green, maroon and copper. A low wooden table, inlaid with ebony and mother of pearl sat between them. A thick, indigo and henna patterned carpet covered the stone floor. Lilli let out a sound of delight as she stepped into the adjoining bathroom, which was dominated by a legless oversized white tub with brass fixtures. The royal blue and cream floor tiles looked hand-chiseled, and mosaic tiles in a more intricate motif, but the same color combination, adorned the walls. Even the round sink was patterned in mosaic tiles. A lavishly carved arabesque mirror hung over it.

Back in the bedroom, Lilli stepped through the double doors on the wall opposite the bed onto a stone terrace painted in a terra cotta hue. A pergola, covered in billowing white fabric, provided shade for another sitting area. Deck chairs, also dressed in white cotton, were arranged across the terrace.

“Check out this view!” she called to Charlie, after walking to the terrace wall and looking out at the panoramic scene. Mountains stretched away to the east, capped in snow. The terrace overlooked an enormous square, the Djemma El Fna, which was filled with people milling about. She could see the snake charmers who had set up around the square, and juice vendors. Most of the throng in the square was making its way in or out of the labyrinth of streets on the north side, where the souks were, the marketplace. The stone, rectangular tower of the Koutoubia Mosque overlooked it all.

“Beautiful,” she said simply.

“Yup,” Charlie agreed, although when she turned to him, she found him staring at her instead of the view.

“Stay right there, don’t move,” he told her, returning inside and emerging a moment later with his camera and followed by Khalid, who happily snapped a picture of the two of them against the scenic background.

They were eager to explore the city, but also hungry, so they arranged for a late lunch. After freshening up, they went downstairs to the courtyard and seated themselves at a table close to the fountain. The food arrived quickly, a half-chicken entrée served over mounds of couscous and covered in a sweet sauce of golden onions, chick peas, raisins and cinnamon. Lilli’s mouth watered at the delicious aroma wafting up from the plate set before her, and she made quick work of the meal, declaring it delicious. Afterward, they enjoyed a pastry which surprised them with a slightly salty taste, and mint tea, which was sweet and refreshing. Their appetites sated, they thanked Khalid and his staff and exited the riad, walking back through the tiny alleyway. A couple of minutes later, they were standing in Djemma El Fna.

They made their way across the massive square, dodging the snake-charmers who were doing their best to scare the tourists, and headed for the bustling souks.

A sea of noisy pedestrians engulfed them as soon as they entered the maze of streets. Strains of exotic music played on lutes, drums and tambourines rose above the cacophony of voices, as tourists and locals haggled with the shopkeepers, trying to strike a bargain. The pungent aroma of spices mingled with the odor of donkeys and pack-camels in the sun, and a heavy smell of sweat permeated the air.

Stalls filled with goods of every description lined the streets. Brightly colored fabrics, brocaded bedcovers and embroidered tablecloths hung in brilliant display. Brass and copper tea pots, decorative fez lanterns and candleholders glittered from every nook and cranny. Geometrically patterned tribal carpets in hues of henna red and indigo blue were draped over large rods or hung like paintings. Antiquated jewelry fashioned out of silver, gold and copper sparkled in dazzling array, as well as dangerous-looking daggers, the hilts inlaid with precious stones. Other stalls were devoted entirely to tooled leather goods, or slippers, which seemed to be a big seller. Mounds of spices—saffron, turmeric, paprika, ginger, nutmeg and cinnamon—the color of precious gems, shimmered in wicker baskets or clay pots, along with green and black olives.

At first, every street looked the same. Pedestrians crowded the passageways, kicking up dust as they walked. People on bicycles moved along no quicker than those on foot. Every so often, a donkey pulling a cart loaded with goods would arrive, holding up traffic. The less fortunate residents, the old or disabled, sat on the dusty streets, quietly begging.

The souks were canopied, blocking the sun, and Lilli and Charlie found it difficult to get their bearings. “I hope we don’t get lost in here,” Lilli said after a few moments, but she was smiling as she said it. She noticed Charlie looked just as entranced by the place as she was.

After a half hour of walking around in circles, they figured out the main streets seemed to run roughly north and south, with side streets and alleys leading off them. If they reached a dead-end, they had only to head in the direction of one of the north-south streets to get back on track. When they felt sure they would be able to find their way out, they began to explore some of the smaller passageways, and Lilli was excited to discover a whole area of stalls devoted to the antique jewelry she had seen samples of earlier on one of the main arteries.

She slowed her pace and took her time browsing through the interesting pieces offered for sale, and Charlie joined her in admiring the pendants, earrings and bracelets crafted by artisans of generations past. Most of the jewelry was fashioned from silver or copper; some of the pieces were further decorated with deep blue enamel or coral.

As Lilli entered one of the stalls, she stopped in her tracks when she spotted a pendant displayed off to one side. It struck her as singular, unique from all the others, and captured her attention immediately. After walking over to the display, she picked up the necklace to study it.

The antique pendant looked very old, and the weight of it surprised her. The rounded bottom, from which two ancient coins dangled on tiny chains, opened and closed on hinges. It appeared to be a container of some sort, for perfume maybe, for the top was crafted in a scroll-like pattern with openings. She imagined herself wearing it, the heat from her body warming the pendant, releasing the scent of the perfume within. Yes, she decided, this would be the perfect keepsake by which to remember the trip.

She looked up, intending to ask the shopkeeper how much, and was startled to see the little man’s weather-beaten face directly in front of hers. His dark eyes were narrowed down to slits and he stared at her with an intensity that took her by surprise.

“I, uh, was just wondering how much. For the pendant,” she stammered. Even though the man was tiny in stature, she felt intimidated by him.

Charlie quickly moved next to her and put a protective arm around her shoulder.

When the shopkeeper continued to scrutinize Lilli for an uncomfortable length of time, Charlie tapped the man’s arm to divert his attention. “How much for the necklace?” Charlie asked.

“I am sure you are not without knowing the rarity of such a piece, but I am obligated to point out it is extremely old, and valuable,” he replied, not taking his eyes off Lilli. Then, turning to Charlie and motioning toward his other wares, he said, “May I propose you examine something else.”

Lilli regarded the shopkeeper as he spoke to Charlie. Something about the intense little man made her want to leave. Suddenly, the pendant didn’t seem so important.

“What’s your asking price?” Charlie asked levelly.

The man considered for a moment. “The craftsmanship is unique, and therefore much sought after. There are those who believe the value of such an item cannot be measured in currency. I have not been able to determine the age of the piece, although it has assuredly passed through the hands of many generations.” A tiny smile curled his lip, which did not reach his eyes. “It has even been rumored by some to be cursed.”

Lilli blinked in surprise at the man’s words.

“A superstitious notion, nothing more,” the small man added quickly, in an apologetic tone. His smile disappeared as he continued, “I propose that seven thousand Dirhams would be the conventional payment for such a piece. However,” he said, bowing slightly in Lilli’s direction, “in the presence of such exceptional beauty, I might be persuaded to accept five thousand Dirhams.”

That settled it. Five hundred dollars! The pieces she’d priced at other stalls were nowhere near as expensive. Lilli tugged on Charlie’s sleeve when he did not immediately decline. “It’s way too much,” she said. “I’ll look for something else.”

“Regrettably, the price is not negotiable,” the shopkeeper said dismissively. He gave a little bow and turned his back on them.

Lilli turned to leave, but Charlie persisted. He pulled her back, smiling. “What the heck, it’ll look great on you,” he said, removing the cash from his money belt.

The feeling that she no longer wanted the pendant became stronger. “Charlie, it’s all right, really, I—”

“No, I want you to have it,” he insisted.

Before she could stop him, Charlie tapped the shopkeeper on the back. “Excuse me.”

When the man turned back to them, Charlie held out the money. The shopkeeper hesitated, looking back and forth at the two of them. Then, in one quick movement, he took the money from Charlie’s hand and pocketed the cash through the opening of his djellaba, the loose-fitting white outer robe he wore over his garments.

He placed the pendant in a midnight blue velvet pouch and handed it to Lilli. “Your husband has made a wise purchase,” he said. “I respect that it appears to be your fate to own it.” Without another word, he turned away from them to tend to his other customers.

Now that she had the pendant out of its pouch to look at it again, Lilli’s earlier misgivings disappeared. She hugged Charlie tightly as they walked away. “It really is special,” she said, slipping the chain around her neck. She liked the heaviness of it and admired the way the old silver twinkled against her navy blue top.

They decided the occasion called for another photo and Charlie handed his camera to one of the tourists walking nearby, who gladly snapped a shot of them against the backdrop of the marketplace.

They walked on in silence for a moment. Lilli said, “You don’t think there’s anything to what he said about the necklace, do you? I mean about it being, you know…”

Charlie chuckled, “Cursed? No, sweetie, I don’t. He said himself it was nothing but superstitious nonsense.”

She slung her arm around his waist as they walked. “I love you, baby,” she said as they moved to the next row of stalls.

“Yeah?” A mischievous glint lit up his eyes. “Good. You can show me how much later tonight.”

“Don’t worry,” she laughed, “I intend to.”

* * * *

After leaving the souks, they explored some of the medina on foot until just after sunset, when they made their way back to the square. It was dark by the time they returned to the Djemma El Fna, and the place was completely transformed now the sun had gone down. Row after row of food stalls had been set up, covering half the square and turning it into a gigantic outdoor restaurant. Smoke from the open-air cooking drifted around on the warm evening breeze, carrying the succulent scent of grilled meats with it.

They decided to have dinner here, where they could watch. . .