My Soul to Take (Soul Keepers (Young Adult paranormal romance)) (3 page)

Upstairs I make a quick change into my running gear and pull a knit cap over my head.
I find Elijah downing another glass of wine as he and Elena talk at the table.

“Do you mind giving me some privacy, I want to go for a run. I’ll be careful I promise.” He tilts his head and looks to Elena to see what she thinks. She eyes me for a moment and shrugs her shoulders.
Oh come on people
. I let out a frustrated sigh. Elijah rubs his forehead and finally gives a reluctant nod.  He sees Elena to the door as I head out the back before he changes his mind. 

The evening is w
aning and this time of year, night will fall in a short while. I steer away from the beach and head into the neighborhood instead. My pace is slow and meandering. I take the time and really look at the homes around me. The small neighborhood is filled with palatial estates, and only every fourth or fifth house has any signs of life inside. 

I don’t want to go home and face the ravine that Elijah and
I’ve to keep between us. I don’t want my destiny shoved down my throat like castor oil either. I mean I’m fine with the leader of the free world thing. I just wish that I was able to be with Elijah. Why is it so important that Sam and I get married? Is he destined to be the First Gentleman? He doesn’t even like politics. Elijah could play that role in his sleep. Nehemiah and his screens of the future can kiss my ass. I will go to the boss above him and plead my case.

“
God, hey it’s me Brennen. I’m sorry for making a mess of things down here. I know you have all of these high hopes for me. But there is one thing that I don’t understand. I’m sure you know that I love Elijah and he loves me. But what you are putting us through is just cruel on every level. Keeping us apart is like depriving us of oxygen. We are gasping for those feelings to be expressed. I know in my heart that we are meant to be together. I can’t help but feel that this was all some big cosmic misunderstanding. Then again you made angels to worship and serve you and that is just what Elijah is doing now. How did he get so off course from that? How was he able to fall in love with me in the first place?”

My grandma used to say that God didn’t make bad things happen, but that God’s promise was to hold us in his hands until the pain went away. She said God didn’t want anything bad to happen to my parents. However, he would love me through my pain and even when I was angry with him. She told me it was okay to yell at God and tell him how I feel and that he would still be holding me when I came out the other side of my anger. I think her advice has helped me get through all of the poo that has been dumped on me in life. She is wiser than I ever gave her credit for.

“God, I hope you’re listening. Please let me love Elijah. Please don’t keep us apart. I will do anything you ask of me, and not just if you answer my prayer, but because I accept you to lead me where you want me to be. I give my life over to you. I’m in your hands and yours alone... Amen.” There it is. I’ve laid my soul bare. Now I just have to listen.

Picturing someone holding me right now, even him, makes me feel a little better. The night sky is beginning to seep into its tones of aubergine and navy. My gift picks up a heartbeat nearby without me even trying. It’s close, very close. It’s beating faster causing a chain reaction in mine. Maybe it’s a jogger.  I can’t be the only one who finds this crisp night a rarity this time of the year. The beat grows erratic, panic stricken. I look everywhere for the source. It’s as if I’m in a theater being engulfed by Dolby digital surround sound. Finally I hear shoes on the pavement and I turn in the direction of the sound.

Suddenly a cloth bag is thrown over my head and I’m flung upward and over a shoulder. Arms squeeze my legs like a vice. I can’t budge an inch. I may as well have been crushed by a truck at the knees. I let out a blood curdling scream into the darkness. I get a wave of nausea and I know
I’ve been teleported somewhere else. It’s like that feeling I get when an elevator first descends, only ten times more powerful.

I’
m roughly placed in a chair and my hands are bound behind me and my feet shackled with heavy cool metal. I can’t see anything. I prick my ears back and try to listen for the telltale signs of life my man-candy of a teacher imparted me with.

             
I can hear noises, shuffling of feet, but no heartbeats. Maybe demons don’t have heartbeats. Why would Elijah teach me a trick that was useless against the very beings that threatened my life the most?

             
“Elijah help me please!” I struggle to free my wrists. Pain screams through my nerves as the binding used cuts into my skin. My hands feel warmed by a liquid that can only be my blood. I feel a cold wet tongue lick the blood from my wrist. I squeal in horror. “Ah, leave me alone.” A huff is released that sounds like it came from a large dog. But God only knows what sort of unearthly creatures dwell in the underworld. I hear a loud bang as what must be a heavy metal door gets shut, followed by the sound of a lock being turned.

My heart hasn’t slowed down since I heard my abductor approaching fast. The bag over my head only makes things worse. I bend my head down and try and shake it loose. My arms are bound too tightly behind me. I can’t lean forward enough to get the hood off. This place smells of soot and moist stale air. It’s terrifying not knowing what’s around me. This room could be crawling with spiders, rats, or even cockroaches. I shudder at that last thought. Ugh, I hate those disgusting bugs. One thought repeats in my head:
This is where I’m going to die
. 

             
Hours go by, and my arms feel as if they will snap from the pressure. This hood is hot and I feel like I’m about to pass out. I begin to cry again. Why won’t they just kill me already and get it over with? I’m in hell. This is what I get for being angry at my God. He has cast me out to the fallen ones. He must have agreed that I’m not the right one for the job. Neither fully human, nor fully angel, the only place for me is here, locked away like the freak I’m. I was stopped before I could brainwash another rapist into imprisoning himself.

             
***

  I’m awoken by the grinding of the metal lock on the door. It’s pushed open. Something cold and sharp runs along my arm but it doesn’t cut me. It snaps the tie on my wrist and my arms are set free. They hang by my side like limp noodles. I know it will be a while before I can use them again. I close my eyes and picture Elijah and I on the beach as he took my hands in his. I remember the sounds of the waves kissing the shoreline and the exhale of the bubbles as the wave recedes. I can almost hear his heartbeat.
Please work...

Finally– I hear a cacophony of drums beating out as one.

Ef me, I’m surrounded!

The sound knocks me from my chair to the floor and the bag comes loose from my head. My feet are still bound and my arms don’t have the strength to lift me. I blink several times trying to focus, all while getting more frustrated that my body isn’t cooperating.

Dark cinder block walls enclose the large windowless room.  Dimly lit gas lanterns flicker and dance out a small flame, illuminating the room marginally. I could be anywhere.

In the shadows, human like figures begin to emerge. I can just make out their outlines and the features of some that stand closer to me. There must be thirty at least. They all watch with a hint of wonder and fear mingling on their faces.  Each man looks to be about twenty something. Their similarities end there. Some are well dressed in tailored suits, others are grungier with beards and beanie caps on. From men with a slight build that probably weigh less than I do, to big hulking T-shirt ripping Goliaths, their eyes are all trained on me.

Through the open door, I see another man enter. He is immediately granted the respect of the others. They all visibly tense when he passes by them. I assume he must be their leader. He stares at me while he shortens the distance between us. He is very tall and fit but his muscles are only slightly hinted at under his black cashmere sweater. His slacks are cuffed perfectly for his height and his shoes look expensive. He takes note that I’m watching him. The others are so silent I forget they’re even in the room with us. The man has dark brown hair and brown eyes that seem to have infinite depth. His face looks soft, he even looks kind, like he could be your neighborhood pastor. However, I hardly believe that is the case. His shiny black loafers stop just short of my chin. I’m just beginning to have feeling return to my fingertips.

I watch helplessly as his foot rears back and violently lands a kick straight into my abdomen. The air flies out of my mouth as my insides explode in pain. I cry out. His kick has sent me a yard away from where I was and only the
chain on my ankle has kept me from going further. My ankle throbs in protest. I curl my body into a ball to protect myself from his next blow. He stomps on my waist instead and the thought of internal bleeding runs through my mind as I cry out again. I scramble myself to the chair as if it could somehow protect me from him. There is nowhere to go and no one to help me.

“
Pathetic little thing aren’t you?” He smirks as I look up at him. Tears are brewing out of my eyes like hot steel. My nose is running and I wipe my face with my sleeve. Trying to appear a little more worthy of my appointed role. I clench my fingers into a ball in an effort to quell the trembling. I rest my arms over the chair and tuck my chin down into my arms. I’m so afraid. I don’t want him to hit me again. Where is Elijah? Why hasn’t he come to help me yet?
This is where I’m going to die.

The man paces around me for a moment and then grabs my arm, pulling me
back into the chair. The others stare from where they stand. I don’t think any of them have moved since he came into the room.

“
So this is the infamous Brennen Hale? I thought it was high-time we met in person. I’m Malphas.” I recognize his name from Elijah’s journal. Malphas is the President of Hell. I cringe down into my seat wishing I could melt into the wood and disappear.

“
I know those eyes,” he says tipping my chin up with is icy cold finger.

“
Your mother is none other than Emmagen, a High Angel. Is she not?” I swallow hard and give one nod to answer him. I would tell him anything he wanted to know. I’m not about to be tortured for information, only to wind up dead anyway. My abdomen is still convulsing in pain and I’m fighting to stay upright. “So an angel conceived a human for some greater purpose. Yet when we did this, our own children were destroyed.” Oh my God no! I can only imagine where this is going to lead.

“
You had a child?” The comment slips out of my mouth before I can tell my brain that speaking out of turn is probably not welcome right now.

His eyes narrow.
“Yes, I had a son. He was mighty and beautiful and he would have been revered in your world. But he was ripped from my arms and crushed to dust while he reached out for me. Your maker sent him to hell and punished us severely.” He looks directly at me as if it was my fault somehow.” And now I’ve you to do with as I please.” He runs a finger along my jaw and down my chest and between my breasts. I shudder and recoil at his touch.

“
Elijah will come for me, and when he does, you will be crushed to dust.”  My voice comes out low and surprisingly confident. He releases a low menacing laugh at my revolted glare.

“
Good luck with that. Your Elijah doesn’t even know you’re missing yet!” A laugh surfaces from beneath his sneer as he turns on his heel and walks out. The others slowly trickle out of the room after him.

In the crowd I see a face that causes me to look twice.
It’s the boy from my class. The one I met at the party in the fall, Jesson. His eyes look up and meet mine laced with guilt. He is one of them? Panic floods my heart once again and I’m about to call out to him even though I know he is the enemy. But he gives me a furtive look that says, “Please don’t say anything”. A second later and his expression has deadened like the rest of the crowd’s. He continues to make his way out of the door.

That night at the party, he was so kind to me. He seemed like such a cool person,
dancing with me and not even being a flirt. I play the scene back in my mind. We had talked about me being elected president in class and we had danced. He asked me where I lived. Oh goodness no, he told them where to find me. Elijah said that he destroyed the only ones who knew my location. Jesson must have been sent to find me and report back what I was doing and my whereabouts. That is probably how they found my house and waged a war overhead. I can’t really trust anyone, can I?

Malphas had a son who was assassinated. Equal retribution would be to do the same to me.
He’s going to kill me. No one knows where I’m and it’s my own stupid fault. Fear and pain well up inside of me and I expel the contents of my stomach onto the ugly stone paved floor.

All is quiet in the dark chamber once again.
By body is in agony. I drift in and out of sleep with no real comfortable place to rest. My only options are to lie on the cold stone floor or lounge in a hard wooden chair. The only thing near me is an empty bowl. The sight of which makes me feel like I could be here for a very long time. As grandma would say, “At least you have a pot to piss in.”