The Dark Night Whispers (The Whispers series #2)

By Joanna Mazurkiewicz

The Whispers of the Sprite (book 1) available now
The Dark Night Whispers (book 2) available now
Her Secret Whispers (book 3 ) available March 2013
My Last Whisper (book 4) available May 2013

This year Ania is hoping to snap out of her depressed mood. She spends her summer locked up in her room, thinking about Gabriel who is somewhere between life and death.

So when Adam, Gabriel’s best friend, turns up on her doorstep and tells her that he can take her to him, Ania refuses because she can’t go through the same hell again. Her heart has already been ripped out of her chest.

She returns to Swansea to start another year at University, but her education is not the most important thing – she ends up getting more involved in the new and dangerous world of the Sprites. This year doesn’t seem to be any easier than the last one, and on top of everything else, she has to find the cure for the Iron curse before Gabriel’s life will end forever.

All at once, Ania is juggling her University work, investigating the kidnapping of a young girl from America for the University paper and trying to fight with the attraction to a handsome blond-haired Sprite who has appeared in her life so unexpectedly.

To confuse Ania even more, she is finding well-known fairy tales in her pocket. They don’t seem to make any sense until she makes a decision to follow her emotions and start looking for her real family.

Will she ever get to the end of this emotional rollercoaster?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Joanna Mazurkiewicz
• Release date: Jan 6, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301104772

Book preview

The Dark Night Whispers

(The Whispers Series #2)

By Joanna Mazurkiewicz

Copyright © 2012 by Joanna Mazurkiewicz

First published in Great Britain in 2012 by Joanna Mazurkiewicz. The right of Joanna Mazurkiewicz to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act of 1988.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the author/publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a newspaper, magazine, journal or blog.

Smashwords Edition

Table of Contents

Chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter six

Chapter seven

Chapter eight

Chapter nine

Chapter ten

Chapter eleven

Chapter twelve

Chapter thirteen

Chapter fourteen

Chapter fifteen

Chapter sixteen

Chapter seventeen

Chapter eighteen

Chapter nineteen

Chapter twenty

1

‘Authorities in California are searching for 23-year-old Niamh McDonald, who was abducted from her home in San Francisco. The police have issued a statement pleading for any witnesses to come forward. They are speculating that one man knocked on the door of the family home on Thursday, around 9:30 a.m., to take Niamh; however, the authorities are still unsure as to what has exactly happened.’

I increase the volume on the TV whilst staring at the face of a young pale girl that the news presenter is talking about. I narrow my eyes, thinking that her dark hair doesn’t suit her. I should sympathise that she was kidnapped, but instead I worry more about her looks, rather than what’s happened to her. In the picture that was presented to the media, Niamh looks bored. Even from a distance, I notice her perfectly applied makeup and her light blue eyes. I take another spoonful of cereal and force it into my mouth. I chew mechanically, wondering if the presenters will be revealing more about this odd kidnapping in America. I sigh because Natasha walks into the kitchen and increases the volume on the TV. As soon as this story appeared on the news, Natasha cannot seem to stop following it.

‘The police are still investigating the details. They believe that Niamh is still alive, as the kidnapper is said to have demanded millions of dollars from Niamh’s wealthy parents for her release,’ continues a young blonde journalist.

I focus on the TV, hoping that the news will end soon enough and I can watch my favourite comedy show, but instead the TV continues to depict the wealthy house somewhere in California. From that point my mind wanders off, while Natasha is still staring at the TV, looking very intrigued. I try to take another spoon of my soggy cereal, but I change my mind instantly.

‘This is unbelievable. She is so young, almost the same age as you,’ says Natasha and looks at me, probably hoping that I will agree with her, but instead I ask:

‘How do you know?’

‘This story is all over the papers, Ania. Her father is some kind of famous politician in America,’ she shrugs impatiently.

I give her a stiff nod.

‘Anyway, it’s not healthy to start talking about such horrific stuff in the morning. What are you going to do today? You haven’t left your room in weeks; it’s time that you go out and do something with yourself. It’s summer for heaven’s sake.’

I stare at my cereal, wondering why I decided to go back to London to the woman who isn’t my real mother. Then I look at her for long moment, trying to choose the right words, but nothing relevant comes to my mind. I haven’t left my room since I came back and Natasha is still pretending that everything is fine, dissolving everything that has happened between us.

‘I am going to see Gosia today,’ I say, because she is expecting me to act normal and then she can finally leave me be.

‘Well, there you go. At least you won’t be stuck at home while I am at work,’ she murmurs, leaving the kitchen and switching off the TV.

This is what our interactions appear to be like these days. We don’t see each other often; Natasha is at work most of the time and if she has a spare minute, she visits Dmitry. She is not interfering anymore. Almost a month ago, my whole life stopped; within a year, I lost my mother, my best friend and the man I loved. My heart was ripped apart and even though time has resumed, it’s still in pieces.

After everything that has happened I couldn’t stay with Gosia; there would be too many unanswered questions. Natasha is trying to work things out between us, but our relationship is a pretence. She doesn’t want to admit that she was the one who lied all her life. I still haven’t forgiven her. I don’t want to fight with her. I have just accepted that she isn’t my mother any more. I put my bowl into the sink and ditch the idea of watching my favourite comedy.

Since my return, every single day seems to be tougher to go through. I spend most of my time in bed, trying to deal with my memories that are eating my soul. I have been avoiding Gosia. I just couldn’t explain what exactly happened and I didn’t want to lie any longer. I have switched my phone off for weeks and refused to talk to her. I have stayed buried in my room. Eventually, I agree to see her after weeks of not knowing what to do with myself. I've run out of excuses.

Natasha has stopped being herself as well. She is no longer concerned about me; she doesn’t interfere with my life. She probably believes that soon I will get back to the normal me, the one that I was before I moved to Swansea, before I lost my soul. I have stopped going through the events of the night that I lost the only man that I cared for. Technically he is still in this world, but he is somewhere between life and death. I still have the ability to see Sprites, but I refuse to go out because I can’t handle seeing any Sprites at this point; each one would remind me of Gabriel. Leaving the house would bring new feelings and I don’t know if I would be able to define what’s real. I am a coward, because I couldn’t decide if I could deal with the pain. Gabriel saved me, regardless of the consequences.

I walk into my room. My clothes and books are lying on the floor and used tissues are by my bedside cabinet; my room is in a total mess, reflecting my state in every way. Natasha hasn’t been in my room since I moved back. She doesn’t obstruct my life as she used to. I walk into the bathroom to take a quick shower, hoping that I can look like myself again.

Only after a month, I notice how much weight I have actually lost. I don’t seem to be the same person as I used to be. My skin is sallow; my eyes have lost the usual sparkle and I am even more insecure about my height. I feel and look unhappy. It takes ages to cover my misery with makeup. My subconscious keeps telling me that I have to eat, but I dismiss my rational side, as I always do.

It’s the end of July and in exactly two months I will have to go back to Swansea. For over a month now, I have been trying to understand why the red-haired Sprite wanted to kill me so much. Instead he murdered my best friend and harmed Gabriel. I remember almost everything; my memories reach the moment until I had to swim in the sea to save Gabriel’s soul. After that, I have a huge black hole in my head. I remember my conversation with Rose and her father; he couldn’t explain to me why I was the target. He didn’t know whom Maurice was, the red-haired Sprite who nearly succeeded. I still try to understand Richard’s involvement on the beach and his action that caused so much pain. He wasn’t himself when he murdered Herne during that unfaithful ritual, but I haven’t seen him since then and the police still haven’t got a clue who the real murderer was. The story about the gypsy woman being found on Oxwich beach was all over the papers and news. The brutal murder shocked everyone, but no one had seen anything during that day. I kept following the story, only praying that no one would find any clues. Richard vanished and he wouldn’t be that stupid to reveal that he was the one who slaughtered the poor gypsy woman who was only there to help.

As far as I know, he couldn’t remember anything. He was used by a mentally unstable Sprite who believed that I could help her to become an immortal human. I was certain that the woman who pretended to be my grandmother had lost her mind. She believed in the last changeling, the myth that Gabriel mentioned during the time that we were together. The story that everyone wanted to believe was just a legend.

When I am finally ready, I look at the mirror. I notice my baggy clothes. I used to be skinny, but now people may suspect that I starve myself just to be slim. My body has lost it shape completely and all my bones are sticking out. When I first arrived back in London, I didn’t believe that I could make it to the sunrise. My whole body refused food and drink; my heart seemed to stop, waiting for the arrival of death. Somehow I managed to retain myself and remained in my bedroom, unable to cope with reality.

I know that Gabriel isn’t dead, but I can't cope with knowing that he might never be able to wake up again. The guilt keeps stealing the life out of me, making me feel hopeless and unhappy. The ritual was easy; I just had to use the knife, but I was too scared to go through with it. Two people lost their lives because of me. I should have never asked Herne to help me and Amy was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

I open the door to my room, hoping that I am alone again. Only silence responds to me. Natasha left to go back to work and I probably won’t see her until tomorrow. I run downstairs and my hands are shaking when I put my jacket on. The feeling of anticipation enters my tangled mind. Today I have to leave the house for the first time since the day that I left Swansea.

Most of the Sprites that used to be around me are now aware that I can see them. My ability is my curse. None of them have dared to come inside the house so far, but once I am outside I can’t hide any longer. There will be nowhere to escape. Someone will be waiting for me. I attacked my last new guardian that was assigned to me, and I truly hope that it’s not him who I will see once I open the door.

I take a few deep breaths to prepare myself to face the reality; I am preparing for the unknown. The drops of sweat start gathering on my forehead while my heart beats faster. Panic strikes me. There is nothing else left, apart from my fear and hesitation. I place my hand on the handle and slowly I open the door to step outside into the sun. I look up at the beautiful blue sky, inhaling the air. It’s strange to see the sun and feel the warm weather. I narrow my eyes, trying to get used to the daylight that I have been avoiding like a vampire who stalks the night, fearing the sun. I look nervously around and I exhale with relief, as I do not notice any Sprites around me. Surprisingly, my neighbourhood looks quiet and unchanged at this time in the morning. I run to my car, squeezing my car keys in my hand. Something isn’t right; someone should be here waiting for me. When I almost think that I am safe, I hear the noise near me. They know. They will always know that I am leaving my hiding place.

‘So you finally made a decision to leave your fortress, princess,’ says someone that I don’t recognise. The panic spins through me and I turned around. I realise that I know the Sprite who is standing in front of me. It's Adam, Gabriel’s friend, who I met on the beach once. He is the last person that I was expecting to see.

‘Why are you here?’ I ask abruptly before I can think about the question.

Adam looks exactly as I remembered. He is tall with thick, glossy, white hair that is brushed back in a ponytail. His dark eyes are an intense black, like the night illuminated with a full moon. My heart stops beating for a moment. I should have known that he would be here. He raises his eyebrows as a warning not to escape.

‘Ania, I thought you would be ecstatic to see me,’ he says and he smiles, making me more nervous.

‘I am sorry, but I have to go. I am trying to get back to normal and you are not helping.’

‘So that’s why you have been hiding all this time. I must speak to you, it's urgent,’ he continues, looking around. It's as if he is afraid that someone else might hear us. His long-sleeved shirt matches his dark eyes. If anyone around would be able to see him now, they would think that he must be a rock star.

I chew my lips, feeling trapped. I don't want to talk to him about things that would hurt me; the memories that can rip my heart apart again.

‘I don’t know, Adam. I...’

‘Please don’t. You need to hear what I have to say and we can’t talk here. I will visit you tomorrow in your room. This way it will be safe for both of us,’ he says in a low but stern voice and then he walks away.

I want to shout after him to tell him that I don’t want him to visit me in my room, but he vanishes as quickly as he appeared. I feel hopeless that I couldn’t tell him how I really feel about him being near me.

My heart can't handle the conversation about Gabriel, about others. I take a few deep breaths and get to the car. If Adam knew that I went out, someone else probably would have told him. Perhaps it was the same Sprite that I attacked, following the instructions of the woman who pretended to be my grandmother. I look around but I can’t see anyone else. I start the car and drive towards the city. I don’t even want to think about him appearing in my room and bringing all the memories back that I have been trying to bury deep down inside me. Why does he even have to talk to me? I am no one important to Sprite community. Gabriel dishonoured his family and his fiancée because he got attached to me. Adam brought all this back, but he might be right: I can’t hide forever. Gabriel is my soul mate. I need his touch; I need to hear his voice. The unbearable pain that continues to tear me apart will not stop until he is close.

I shake my head, holding back the tears, as I park the car outside Gosia’s flat. It has taken me well over half an hour to get here; London is, as usual, filled with a busy rush of people. Nothing has changed; I have to get used to seeing Sprites following everyone around again. I brought back this ability because I wanted to see Gabriel; otherwise, if I didn't, I would have to give up and forget about him forever.

I grab my bag, lock the car, and run to the building as quickly as I can, hoping to avoid the Sprites. No one will recognise me but I am paranoid. I expect Gosia to be furious with me. I haven’t behaved like a good friend; I have let weeks slide by without a word or a phone call. I still don’t know what I am going to say to her. When I get upstairs, she is already waiting for me. She probably saw my car from looking out the window. I can tell that she is stunned when I approach her.

‘Come in,’ she says quietly and I enter her flat.

When I am safely on the sofa, she sits next to me. She moves her gaze from my face to my body.

‘Would you like a cup of tea and a sandwich?’ she asks with a shaky voice.

‘No.’

‘Yes. I will make you a sandwich and tea,’ she says firmly. ‘How much weight have you lost?’

‘I don’t know,’ I blurt, avoiding her eyes.

She knows me well and she can tell when I am lying to her. She can tell that I have lost a lot of weight. She vanishes into the kitchen, leaving me alone with my rational side. After ten minutes, she appears again with a plate filled with sandwiches and a steaming cup of tea. Gosia won’t take no for an answer. She looks angry when she hands me the plate.

‘Eat, and then we will talk,’ she demands, not taking her light blue eyes off me.

I won’t argue with her because I might get into more trouble. I chew the bread with tuna, trying to think of what I am going to tell her, how to explain the imaginary world where I have been living. She is staring at me with a serious expression on her face. Her wavy blonde hair is tangled and she has dark circles under her eyes. She has changed her glasses to a more elegant style. I force myself to eat two sandwiches, just to show her that I am not trying to starve myself. My body is slowly starting to accept food again. When I swallow the last piece, she takes her glasses off and leans forward.

‘So, tell me everything.’

‘There is nothing to tell,’ I mumble, staring at my shoes.

‘You show up here after a month, looking like a zombie, and you say there is nothing to tell?’ she says, raising her voice and gazing at me with anger.

I hesitate. She is right; I have to explain myself to her.

‘I wasn’t well.’

‘I can see that. If I didn't have to travel back and forth to Poland, then you would see my ugly face every day. I can’t believe Natasha hasn't fed you!’

‘We are not the same. She doesn’t interfere any more,’ I try to explain, but my voice shakes.

‘Ania, please explain what’s wrong. Is it that man who has made you like this? You're so lifeless,’ she asks softly, taking my hand.

‘Yes. We got back together but I ruined everything. Please, I don’t want to talk about it. He is my past now and it hurts. I am sorry that I didn’t call.’

‘I know you don’t want to talk about this, but at least promise me that you will never see him again. I can't bear how much he has hurt you,’ she says, giving my hand a squeeze. She has been worried about me and I was just being stubborn.

‘Yes, I won’t see him again.’

‘And, Ania, you have to eat for God's sake.’

‘I know. I'm trying.’

‘You have to try harder. There are plenty more fish in the sea. He wasn’t meant to be for you. So apart from being stuck in your room for weeks, is there anything you want to tell me?’ she continues, pressing the subject.

‘I would rather hear about you.’

‘If you are asking about my love life, then I am currently single and happy.’

‘That’s good to hear.’

‘What about you? When are you going back to Swansea?’ she asks.

‘In September.’

‘Hmm. Are you sure? Maybe you should sort out things with Natasha first?’ she suggests.

‘She was the one who was lying to me.’

‘I know, Ania, but it’s probably hard for her. She is more stubborn than you are. Give her a chance.’

I smile at Gosia, who is always trying to make everyone feel better, but this isn’t easy.

‘Maybe. I don’t know yet. How was your summer?’ I change the subject, because I don’t want to talk about Natasha and her lies.

Gosia starts talking about Poland and all the places she visited. I know she hasn't forgiven me yet for refusing to talk to her, but I am making an effort now. I have missed Gosia and I finally realise that she is a good friend who has always cared about me. Gosia made an effort to see how I was, but I was unreachable, hidden in my own pain and not accepting anyone’s help.

***

Since our sudden move to the UK, I have been used to coming back to an empty house; Natasha was always at work, so I normally had to take care of myself. The day after the conversation with Gosia, my day is more productive. I do some shopping and read a book. In the evening, Natasha knocks on my bedroom door, taking me by surprise. She places a bowl of chicken soup on my desk and asks me to eat it. She looks around my messy bedroom but doesn’t say anything else. I am certain that Gosia mentioned to her that she should make sure that I eat. We still don’t talk as we used to; we just tolerate each other to avoid conflicts. I eat the soup and though it tastes delicious, I have to force the last few spoonfuls. After half an hour, Natasha comes back to take my bowl. She leaves once again without a word, glancing at me suspiciously. She is dressed to go to work. I want to thank her, but it’s too late, as she locks the door behind her. I fall asleep around eight, hoping that Adam won’t visit me late in the night. I haven’t been sleeping very well in the past few weeks. When I open my eyes again, I want to close them straight away, because I know that Adam is in my room. Not being used to another Sprite in my bedroom, I am thankful that I slept fully clothed. I rub my tired eyes and switch on the lamp on the bedside cabinet. I don’t have to worry about Natasha, because she is at work.

‘I hope this will be short,’ I say, yawning.

‘Nice to see you too,’ says Adam and he sits on the chair next to my bed.

The feeling of anticipation fills my stomach. As usual, Adam looks good; his silky white hair is hanging loose around his shoulders. I sit up in bed, trying not to make eye contact. His glorious, intense dark eyes make me uncomfortable.

‘I am sorry, but what are you doing here? I have nothing to say to you. I screwed up and he is dead.’

‘Silly, silly girl. Gabriel is not dead. Why are you blaming yourself?’ he asks, staring at me and folding his arms.

‘Adam, don’t try to make me feel better. Gabriel risked his life for me twice and now he is in some kind of coma, and no one knows when he will wake up,’ I say, irritated.

My whole body convulses as I talk about Gabriel. Adam arches his eyebrows slightly, amused.

‘And you gave up on him just like that. I thought you loved him?’ he asks.

Suddenly the anger flows through me. How dare he come here and judge me like this?

‘I do love him! I've never loved anyone the way I love him, but you don’t understand,’ I snap.

‘Don’t be so melodramatic. Trust me, Ania, if I was in his shoes, I wouldn’t miss that kind of opportunity,’ he says, looking uneasy.

‘What kind of opportunity?’ I ask, confused.

‘The opportunity to love you,’ he answers.

I flush. As little as I know Adam, I still can tell that he is not the type who can talk about feelings openly. I suddenly feel uncomfortable in his company. I am not sure if he finds me attractive, but I can’t cope with being the only human who can allow a Sprite to understand what love really is.

‘I appreciate that, but I failed him. I can’t go back there to see him. I am not welcome there.’

‘You are his only hope. His father has been searching around for a cure across the continents. Your ability is extraordinary,’ he continues, looking more troubled. I can't understand why he is agitated.

I still love Gabriel with every inch of my body, but going back and interfering further into his life would cause more disorder.

‘You will be back in Wales shortly; I will take you to see him then. You might not be welcomed, but you can gain respect and that’s what we need. The Sprite community needs to trust you.’

‘Why do you want to help me?’ I ask, surprised with his declaration.

‘Being your new guardian comes with responsibilities.’

‘You are my new guardian? What’s happened to the one –?’

‘That you knocked out?’ he interjects, smiling.

‘Yes, the same one.’

‘I requested to replace him. I don’t think he was up for the job,’ he says and winks at me.

I can’t help smiling. Adam keeps his dark eyes on me as I try to gather all