Available Darkness Season 1

gave the images teeth.
    From the bits of memories John had managed to extract from the agents, he knew the gunmen were part of a unit called Harbinger.
    Harbinger of what, though?
    The agents were as in the dark about their end game as was John, though crystal clear on how much their boss Jacob had paid them to kill enemies, silence opposition, and unearth various artifacts with mythical properties.
    Artifacts from Otherworld.
    Why they wanted him , though, John wasn’t certain. At least not beyond anything outside the bristle of instinct. Perhaps he was the ultimate artifact, a man who once walked on another world’s soil. Though, from what he could tell, he wasn’t alone in that distinction. The agents’ memories revealed that Jacob traveled in an entourage of others who were either from Otherworld, or were trained in its magick.
    Of Jacob, though, he couldn’t gather much. The soldiers for hire had viewed him as a weak, but cruel man, with tons of money at his disposal. Beyond that, most of the men knew little. At least one of the men believed Jacob’s weakness to be a facade, and knew the man to be incredibly capable of deadly deeds.
    John looked down at Abigail and felt a fierce, almost paternal, need to protect her from all danger. That aching need embittered the palette of his thought, tainted with wave after wave of unforgiving guilt. He had delivered his curse unto her, even if in the process of saving her life, and had turned her into a vampire.
    What would that mean for her? Would she also need to feast to survive? Had he turned an innocent child into an eager killer? Was she now immortal? Would her soul grow old as she remained forever fixed behind the mask of a child?
    The only person with any answers was Larry, who was up front, driving as fast as he could to put the motel and its murderous men behind them. As soon as Larry killed the engine, John would find out everything he knew, whether Larry wanted to tell him or not.

    * * * *

    Larry

    Larry swung the black van into the chop shop. The unassuming warehouse sat in the middle of a dozen others, nearly invisible, in a broken row in a rundown neighborhood just 10 miles south of their next port of call.
    Lydia was waiting outside, alone as he’d requested. Most hours, she’d have a crew of at least six to help ensure her safety, but their amorous past was a solid promise of protection. She raised the bay door and Larry pulled inside, parking beside the white Ford Econoline she’d readied for him. The van was modified inside, with a spacious cargo area sealed off from the front to prevent any light from seeping inside. Larry would transfer John and Abigail, and then be on his way. Lydia would then take care of the black van.
    Larry hopped from the van. Lydia pulled the bay door down and turned to him, her infectious smile lighting the room, “Hey, stranger.”
    He laughed. “Not by choice. You still seeing Tony?”
    “Hell no, he’s back with his little bitch, Jessi.” Lydia sidled towards Larry, then leaned in and gave him a peck on the cheek. “You asking for any particular reason?”
    Larry grinned. It had been a while since he’d been laid. Even longer since he’d been with a kinky little minx like Lydia. He felt the usual stir, and then ignored the wish that was turning to a want which time wouldn’t allow. Lydia’s eyes danced, hands in her pockets, head sideways, a lock of chestnut curls teasing the nape of her olive-skinned neck. Larry swallowed.
    “No reason, just wanted to make sure the hairs on my neck weren’t rising because of an asshole behind me.”
    Lydia laughed. “Nope, just you and me … and whoever you have in the van.”
    “Thanks for this,” Larry said, reaching into his pocket for an envelope of cash which found her fingers in a whisper.
    “Anything for you,” Lydia said with a smile, peering over Larry’s shoulder at the black van. “So, what are we about to unwrap?”
    “I need to get these people to safety,” Larry said as he led her to the side door. He slid it open. Inside, lie an especially large looking John with a still-sleeping Abigail like a rag doll in the nook of his body.
    “Oh shit!” Lydia’s eyes widened. She took an involuntary step back from the van.
    “So you’ve been watching the news, then, I guess?” Larry made a weak attempt at humor.
    It didn’t work.
    “Dude, what the hell are you into? I’m not into helping a kidnapping, no way.” Lydia took another step back, this