Margaret Carter - Dark Changeling

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Dark Changeling

Margaret L. Carter

June 1999 Hard Shell Word Factory

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Dark Changeling

I received information on matters forensic and psychiatric from Thomas G. Gutheil, M.D., and D. G.

Goldberg.

Their help is gratefully acknowledged.

Any errors, of course, are my own.

Annapolis appears more or less as it existed in 1979-1980, allowing for artistic license. Any resemblance

to real people is purely coincidental.

This novel is dedicated to Elaine Bergstrom, whose talent and achievements have been an inspiration to

me.

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Dark Changeling

Prologue

Boston, August 1979:

HE WORE THE night like a black cloak.

Shrouded in an illusion of emptiness, he knew any human eyes would slide past him as if invisible.

From the shelter of an alley between a pair of deserted office buildings, Neil scanned the front of the

movie theater and the small, gravel-surfaced parking lot next to it. The stink of garbage and auto fumes

filled his nose. From nearby streets he heard the rumble of cars, the occasional sigh of brakes. At this

hour little traffic turned down the dingy side street where the cinema was located. Bored with waiting,

he let his eyes drift over the marquee, reading “OUBLE FEATUR,” followed by the titles of two recent

slasher films. Appropriate.

Neil grinned above his shaggy, copper-red beard when a young man and woman appeared beneath the

overhang in front of the theater. He'd expected to loiter until the second show let out. Too bad the girl

wasn't alone. What the hell, he could handle both of them.

The parking lot's single floodlight cast a halo on the girl's blonde, shoulder-length hair. She wore sky-

blue flared slacks and a matching sweater against the nip of the March night. Her aura glowed with the

indignation echoed in her shrill voice and the staccato tap of her heels. “What the hell is the matter with

you, anyway? How could you be so stupid, bringing liquor into a movie? I've never been so embarrassed

in my life!”

The watcher noticed, beneath the young man's open brown leather jacket, the bulge of a flask in the hip

pocket. “What's the big deal? So we got thrown out. The flick was lousy anyway.” His abundant

chestnut hair, brushed into an exaggerated bouffant and curling at the back of his neck, framed a

delicately handsome face distorted by a pout.

“Oh, yeah? It was your idea to see those stupid second-run axe-murderer films in this crummy

neighborhood.”

“Forget it, let's go for a ride.” He slipped an arm around his date's waist to pat her on the bottom.

The air crackled with her anger. “Are you nuts? I wouldn't ride around the block with you!” She

squirmed away from his touch.

Staggering, he groped for her, then steadied himself against the smudged bricks of the nearest wall.

“Come on, Lisa, the night's young.” Judging from his lopsided smile, he considered that remark

urbanely witty.

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Dark Changeling

“My mother was right, for once,” said the girl, her heels clicking on the sidewalk as she strode away

from him. “I shouldn't have gone out with you in the first place, M.I.T. honor student or not. What do

you get honors in, Party 101?”

When her date made another grab for her arm, she whipped around and smacked him in the diaphragm

with her purse. He doubled over with a whoosh of breath. “Well, screw it! You can just walk home!” He

stumbled across the lot to his car. Neil, still watching from across the street, heard the crunch of gravel

and the boy's labored breathing.

Neil's own breathing was none too steady, either. The girl's anger stung his nostrils like ozone. He

fought to quiet the rasping of his lungs and concentrated on veiling himself from the young people's

eyes. Not that he had much to worry about, since they were too caught up in their fight to spare a glance

in his direction. The boy's Corvette roared out of the lot and weaved down the narrow street.

Brandishing her purse, the girl screeched after him, “Go ahead and kill yourself! I'm calling a cab.”

Neil's tongue flicked over his dry lips. This encounter was working out better than he'd hoped. Now he

could catch her alone and, with luck, away from the movie theater's lights. Sure enough, she threw one

glance at the closed entrance of the theater and headed for the phone booth at the gas station next door

instead.

Gliding soundlessly, he kept pace with the girl's hurrying steps. If she happened to look his way, her

eyes would slip over him unseeing. Even consumed with lust, he easily maintained that much psychic

control.

Her hair swung in rhythm with her rapid strides and her disjointed mutters of, “Stupid jerk—macho

airhead —” In the empty parking lot of the deserted gas station, Neil watched her lean into the phone

booth and fumble through the directory with hands that shook from anger. She dropped a coin into the

slot, listened to the receiver, frowned, and jiggled the coin return. After trying once more, she spat a

curse and slammed the phone back into its cradle.

Out of order! Great!

She checked her watch and started walking back toward the theater. He decided to make his move now.

In a fluid blur he crossed the street to block her path. At the same instant he dropped the illusion that

kept her from seeing him.

With a gasp, she froze. Her surge of panic went straight to Neil's head like a triple shot of hundred-proof

rum. His hands clamped onto her arms. Her throat closed on the scream she ached to expel.

Already high on her impotent terror, Neil forced himself to quell it, for it didn't want to deal with panic

just yet. Gazing into her eyes, he soothed her with wordless murmurs. Gradually her fear melted away,

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Dark Changeling

until she stared at him in mindless docility.

“You need a ride,” he said softly. “Come along, I'll take you home.”

She nodded. Entwining his arm with hers, he guided her around the corner to his car. A quick scan of the

area assured him that the street lined with shabby small businesses was safely deserted at this time of

night. He opened the back door of his drab compact wagon, neither new enough nor old enough to

attract notice, and shoved Lisa in. She landed on a threadbare Army blanket he'd picked up at a thrift

shop for just this purpose. She stared at him with wide, empty eyes like Disney's cartoon Snow White

lost in the woods.

Too easy! Damn it, they're all too easy!

But for now he had to accept her submission as an advantage. “I'm taking you home,” he said in the

same gentle murmur as before. “You sit back here and stay perfectly quiet. Understand?”

Again she nodded.

Neil drove to an elementary school in an lower-class neighborhood. Here, if he decided to indulge in the

pleasure of letting her scream, nobody would come to her rescue. Pulling up beside the playground, well

outside the circle of the nearest street lamp, he walked around to open the back door. He coaxed his

victim, loose-jointed and half-asleep, out of the back seat.

At that moment he heard the growl of a defective muffler and glimpsed the headlights of a car turning

the corner in his direction. Instantly he pulled the girl into his arms and crushed her to him. When the

car's lights swept over them, Neil was kissing her with grinding force. His teeth cut her lip, and he tasted

blood. Electricity rippled from his mouth down to his groin, sparking along every nerve.

The fire in his gut wouldn't let him wait any longer. As soon as the car vanished, he held the girl away

from him, his hands squeezing her upper arms, and dropped the mental vise that had paralyzed her will.

Her eyes snapped awake, bottomless wells of terror to drink from.

“You want to run away,” he said in a mockingly soft voice. “All right. You can't scream—you can't

make a sound—but you can run.” He relaxed his grip.

When she tried to dart past him, he blocked her. “No,” he said. “The other way.”

She wheeled around and ran through a gap in the chain-link fence into the playground. On the blacktop

her mid-height heels clomped awkwardly. In her panic she didn't pause to kick them off. Neil gave her a

head start, watching her lurch under the metal frame from which two broken swings dangled. She threw

a wild look over her shoulder. Blundering into one of the poles, she tumbled on the ground. Still he

didn't follow. She scrambled to her feet and hurried on, limping now.

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