HAUNTED SOULS.

by DENISE A. AGNEW.

Prologue

Pine Forest,Colorado

They must all die.

When Halloween comes, my energy will be fiercest. I will be invincible.

As a swirling draft leaked through a crack in the broken tomb, the ancient one drank in the cold night air. Despite a weakened body, the old vampire's anger rose high. With a groan he lay back on the stone floor near a wooden coffin long ago starting to disintegrate. Ah, but he loved the old, the forbidden, the gloom surrounding him in the crypt. The place didn't possess the heavy pall of the tunnels, the delicious sickness he craved so much. No, all that lingered here was the reality of death, the inevitability for all but the undead.

He would have to be satisfied.

No one would look for him here. This long-forgotten crypt resided in the desolate area not far fromPineForest. Well-hidden, surrounded by bushes and trees, the stonework neglected and weathered, this sanctuary would serve as safe shelter. Few people probably even knew this crypt existed.

A day had passed since his last encounter with the group of meddlesome, hateful mortals and the immortal Irish pup, Ronan Kieran. Closing his eyes, the ancient one replayed in his mind the mistakes he'd made. He cursed that a thousand years of experience had broken down under mortal will. Energy had drained from him fighting the mortals'

combined psychic energy fields. He'd underestimated Ronan Kieran's will, but more than that, he underestimated the power the group could generate between them.

An ache built inside him as he thought ofErin's betrayal. She didn't want him and didn't recognize her reincarnation as his beloved Dasoria. He had one alternative. No longer would he indulge her, no longer would he spare her.Lachlan, her lover, would die with her when the time came, and suffer a fate far more horrible than they could imagine. Her new friends, MickyGunn and Jared Thornton, would also suffer before succumbing to his wrath.

He planned and plotted, his desires hotter and stronger with each passing hour. Once he regained his strength, he would return to the tunnels under theGunn Inn and make an alliance with the malevolent energy residing there. He'd sensed the power, far older than himself, would enhance and compliment his own desires. He wondered if other vampires had wandered the tunnels and discovered what he now understood. This town seeped with evil, with darkness so dominant no mortal could guard against it in the end.

The ancient one understood he must be careful when dealing with the strange energy, for shadows invaded the tunnels under theGunn Inn, more hate-filled and growing with each minute. Sentient, the darkness felt stronger and more defined as fear multiplied inPineForest. Whenever an act filled with dislike and pain, hatred and dread entered the mind of someone inPineForest, the evil drew upon it, added to it, and fed it in an ever- increasing circle.

When Halloween came, all putrefying emotions would gather and wicked entities would join. Nothing could stop the most horrible strength on earth.

Few people could imagine the entity. As it invaded their dreams at night, it came cloaked in recognizable forms. The missing child, the missing spouse, the horrible monster chasing them in the night. Because it lived in the tunnels, it became one with the earth, penetrating the ground people walked upon and absorbing their doubt and trepidation with every step. Soon all the signs would be there, a total accumulated from more than a century of continual strife and discontent. The sleepy little town sat upon a boiling wound. Blood flowed from the cut, the hurt inflicted upon it by human nature and excessive greed.

On Halloween, the inequity of the ages would merge with the ancient one to become one horrible power.

The Final Darkness.

Chapter One

Pine Forest,Colorado

St. Bartholomew's Catholic Church

The central graveyard

"Give me your money, bitch."

ClarissaGaines' heart stopped and her breathing ceased.

At least that's what it felt like as a dark form stepped out from behind a crypt and into her path. She took a step back as the man leveled a gun on her, his black-gloved hand steady.

A tremor ran over her body as dread froze her blood. Icy wind blew across the graveyard, rustling the pine trees into a chilling whisper. The last rays of sunlight were swallowed by encroaching clouds.Shadows swept across the gravestones, darkening their gray faces. Cold seemed to encroach on the churchyard and blanket her soul.

Night came and apparently so did the neighborhood kooks.

Or the serial killer haunting this town.

Seconds drew out as she took in the horror caricature. Dressed like a pirate of old, the tall man's swirling cape, tall boots, and feathered hat would have looked dashing at any other time. The Freddy KrugerNightmare on Elm Street mask ruined the effect.

He moved a step closer and she flinched. "I said, give me your money."

Guttural and determined, his request sounded more than dead serious.

Good deal, Clarissa.Go ahead and prove your friends right. Put yourself one step intoPineForestand get dead.

Her brain kicked in and she took a deep breath to steady herself. She hitched her camera case higher on her left shoulder. Licking her dry lips, she tried to piece together a coherent sentence. "I only have a couple of dollars."

The man snorted and waved the weapon back and forth. "You're lying. What's in your fanny pack?"

"Driver's license, tissues-"

"Take it off and give it to me."

She unclipped the fanny pack and started to hold it toward him. He stepped forward and snatched it. The movement wrenched her right ring finger, the fanny pack strap catching on her large citrine ring. Pain stabbed through her hand. He grabbed her right forearm in a harsh, bruising grip.

She gasped. "Let me go!"

He yanked and she stumbled into him. The man smelled of sweat and whiskey. She wrinkled her nose in disgust. "You're askin' for it, bitch. What if I giveyou some?"

She pulled back from his revolting stench and he let her go.

Before she could blink he slapped her across the face.Sharp pain stabbed her jaw as she fell backwards and dropped like a rock. Her camera case went flying.

Dizziness assaulted Clarissa as she lay on her back. Stunned, she couldn't gather her foggy thoughts except for one. She must escape. She struggled to sit upright, one hand to her bruised face. If she'd expected to find death in a graveyard, it hadn't been at the hands of a pistol-welding pirate with no sense of humor. The bastard was definitely not playing trick or treat.

What she saw next defied logic and sanity.

A brown-cloaked form materialized with an audible pop behind and to the right of the pirate. The pirate flinched. Breathless and beyond surprised, Clarissa didn't budge.

Before the pirate could make another movement, the large cloaked form clamped one hand on the pirate's neck and whirled him around. The Freddy Kruger wannabe dropped her fanny pack and it landed a short distance away.

"What the-?" The pirate tried to bring up his weapon.

The cloaked form wrenched the gun from the man's hand and jammed the barrel against pirate's throat. The pirate's hat landed in the snow.Greasy dark hair hung lank around the purse-snatcher's head.

"This is my territory." Harsh, husky, and vibrant with an Irish accent, the deep voice issuing from the cloaked stranger sent a strange shiver over her skin. "And you are bloody well trespassing."

His territory? Oh, shit.She'd stepped from one fire into another. Maybe if she tiptoed away neither man would miss her.