Legacy of Darkness 001: The Meadows by London Clarke

Author:London Clarke [Clarke, London]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Horror
Publisher: Carfax Abbey Publishing
Published: 2018-10-19T06:00:00+00:00

I LEFT MY CAR AT O’GRADY’S and rode with Hunter. He lived in a townhouse on a lake, and as we pulled into the subdivision, I marveled at all the lights reflecting off the water.

“It’s beautiful here,” I breathed.

“It’s a manmade lake,” said Hunter, “but I enjoy it. I sit out on my balcony most evenings and look out over the water.”

“By yourself?” I couldn’t help myself. I was dying to know his story. Hunter Massabrook was a fascinating guy. Barefoot piano player, ex-Catholic priest, demonologist...

“Yes. By myself.”

I stared out the at the lake on my right as we pulled into the parking lot, suddenly wishing I’d purchased a place just like this and never considered some decades-old pipe dream of owning a bed and breakfast in the Shenandoah Valley. My dad had warned me. It’ll be a money pit and you’ll feel confined there, and ... you can’t run from your problems forever, Scarlett.

Why hadn’t I listened?

From the outside, Hunter’s townhouse looked Victorian, with detailed, ornamental trim and numerous porches and inset towers—some modern architect’s stab at contemporary Victorian design. We wound up a spiral staircase and finally stopped at a door that looked like something out of 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea.

“This is a cool place,” I said. “Very unusual design.”

While he unlocked the door, Hunter glanced over his shoulder and gave me a crooked smile. “The guy that built these wanted to create a steampunk-inspired complex. I thought it was kind of funky, a little edgy. I didn’t want to live in a cookie-cutter suburban mcmansion or anything like that.”

I followed Hunter into the entryway, and he motioned me toward the living room, which looked more like a cathedral. Iron crosses hung on every wall, and a wooden pew lined one side of the room. One of the windows was stained glass. Hopefully, I hadn’t made the wrong choice by coming here.

Ted Bundy was good looking too. That didn’t make him trustworthy.

“Wow. I see the Catholic priest influence here.” I laughed, sliding across the wooden pew.

Hunter stood in the doorway, the corners of his mouth turned up slightly. “Actually, I didn’t get any of these things until after I wasn’t a priest anymore.”

“Nostalgia?” I smiled.

He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. “Maybe.”

“How long ago were you a priest?”

“Just under a decade ago.”

I slowly pushed myself off of the wooden pew. “What happened? Why did you leave?”

Hunter exhaled and moved forward, slumping onto the edge of the pew. He scanned the room, and his gaze seemed to rest on a particularly ornate cross on the adjacent wall. “I fell in love.”

My heart stuttered. “With a woman?”

A little smile tipped his lips. “Yes, with a woman.” The corners of his mouth took a downturn. “Someone I went to school with. We met up again after a lot of years—well, actually, she came to me. Because she heard I was a priest. Because she needed help.”

“Wow.” Something warmed inside of me. It was like The Thorn Birds.

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