Soul Stealer (14 page)

Voro was being nice. That was likely the scariest reaction he could have received.

“What if … what if I’m stuck here?”

“Hey, that’s gotta be impossible, right?”

Raphael shrugged. “This has never happened. I can’t call myself back, I can’t read people like before. I’m … I’m not me.”

The room fell silent. It wasn’t a comfortable quiet, though. They were both clearly trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

Finally Voro leaned forward, the leather of his jacket creaking against the hospital vinyl the loudest thing in the world at the moment. “You want me to bring you anything?”

For some inexplicable reason, Raphael felt prickles inside his nose, and his vision wavered. Nah, he couldn’t be crying, could he?

A warm drop rolled down his cheek, and rather than wipe it he just covered his face with both arms. What a day for firsts: stretching, erections, and now crying?

Voro didn’t try to say anything to make it all better, which was a relief.

“Tell you what, Raphael. I’m going to go out and get you a burger, okay? You want a Big Mac?”

Raphael hated his response, but he couldn’t sound any stronger as he said, “Okay,” in a voice that could have come from a tantrum-throwing ten year old.

“I’ll be right back. Just hang tight, buddy.”

Voro gave him a manly shoulder-punch, then Raphael was vaguely aware of the Sin Eater’s footsteps as he left the room.

He leveled out his breathing, forcing himself to calm down. He kept his face covered, hiding the tears from anyone else who might visit. And suddenly he became aware of a shuffling from the doorway, which meant his next caller was catching him unawares. When he pulled his arms down he made sure his forearms wiped away the eye-leakage.

It was his nurse again. He cursed – well, sort of – to himself and tried to sit up straighter as she said rather sharply, “Where did he go?”

Raphael frowned. She was staying close to the door. “Who?”

“Your guest. How can you have visitors? You don’t have ID or any idea what your name is. We haven’t contacted anyone to tell them where you are. How the hell can you have a visitor?”

This could be bad.

“He introduced himself as my friend. We talked. He said he left me at your apartment, then went to run errands. We were supposed to meet, he said. When I didn’t show up, he went by the apartment, saw the police cars. Asked if I had been seen, found out where they brought me. Sounded … sincere to me. I don’t think he means harm.”

Wow, lying was far too easy. Raphael felt terrible for doing it, but he certainly wasn’t going to be an open book on this topic.

She stayed where she was, then nodded. “I see. Well, I’m glad someone’s claimed you, then.”

He remembered her offer to keep him safe in her home. His body warmed all over again, surprised to find that he might actually like that.

“He’s not from here,” he offered. “Neither of us are. He’s … he’s supposed to leave soon.”

His nurse met his eyes directly and he would have sworn it stopped his heart. He didn’t understand the reaction he was having to her, but it wasn’t scary at that moment. It was exciting. Compared to everything else that was happening to him, this he did understand even if it hadn’t happened before. He wanted her.

It made no sense; he’d never had such an impulse. But it was unmistakable.

As though she sensed his intentions, she dropped her eyes to the floor. “I have to get back to my rounds. I’m sorry that I keep disturbing you.”

She was gone as quick as a turn on the heel, and even though he didn’t think he’d scared her off, he regretted that she was so uncomfortable around him. He was used to humans loving him instantly. Now that he was wishing he still had that effect the subject was completely freaked out by him.

As he lay contemplating the complexities of being in this world not as he usually was, a strange urge was building deep in his lower gut. It was unpleasant and suddenly became incredibly urgent.

He was frowning again as he sat up and the feeling became more pronounced. As he tried to relax, the realization of what was happening had him straining to hold back on a warm urge that dropped even lower.

He had to piss.

He took a deep breath, lifting the blanket and swinging his legs off to the side of the bed. He got to his feet cautiously, and after waiting for a wave of dizziness to pass he took small, faltering steps to the washroom attached to his room.

Another first. He never needed to relieve himself. He could eat and drink here all he liked but when he returned home, it was as though it had never happened. No such body functions.

The basic concept wasn’t too tricky to understand, but as soon as he relaxed and gave physical “permission” for the urge to continue, the stream hit the toilet seat and splashed on to the wall next to it. With a muttered commentary on his own intelligence he corrected without stopping. He couldn’t have stopped if he wanted to.

His eyes slid closed as his bladder emptied. As strange a sensation as it was, the overall feeling was completely fantastic. It nearly crossed his eyes.

Once the trickling stopped he gave that appendage a good shake, then used the toilet paper to clean the mess he’d made. His legs were still shaky and it took longer than it should have but eventually it was done. He flushed the commode, washed his hands, then steadier legs carried him back to the bed. He climbed in, feeling quite proud of himself. All told, that whole experience could have been scarier but he managed just fine.

Waiting for life to return to normal might not be terrifying all together.

Chapter Fourteen

Saleem had let the good Samaritan that found him load him into her car and drive him to the hospital. She chatted on about how the streets weren’t safe, and he should certainly report his car stolen immediately so maybe the police could catch those violent offenders red-handed.

The man he’d knocked out, the one that had been left by his friends, was gone by the time Saleem had woken. For some reason that really bothered him. The guy could have killed him while he’d lain there, unconscious and vulnerable. But all he’d done was take Saleem’s gym bag.

Which had his wallet, ID, credit cards, cell phone. He needed to make a lot of calls. He was almost as angry over that as the headache currently rocking his world.

Saleem got the woman’s name and hoped she wouldn’t find it odd that he sent her a thank you gift of some kind. She had offered to come in with him, but he’d thanked her graciously and acknowledged that she’d spent more than enough of her time on his behalf. She smiled, wished him well and took off, leaving him under the harsh lights of the emergency drop-off sign.

The nurses had ushered him from the waiting area to a curtained room, which was the first indication he had that he was bleeding. A couple of those punches had apparently opened up an eyebrow. He was waiting for someone to offer up the stitches he obviously needed. In the meantime he had access to a nurse’s phone, which he used to cancel his credit cards after answering some security questions. The hospital staff was nice enough to call the police for him, so he expected them to be by as well.

He held a cold cloth to the side of his face that felt like it was burning. Had to be the swelling. He was even having trouble seeing out his left eye.

After the stitches were done, he met a police constable in the waiting area who was going to take his statement and report his vehicle stolen. The man suggested they grab a coffee in the cafeteria, since he said he was waiting for his colleague to receive medical attention as well. Saleem’s stomach was killing him; he was starving but he had no money anyway.

The man was about the same age as Saleem. He wore a gold wedding band, and complained about his contacts drying out as he took out a pad. He wrote notes on what happened, stopping every now and then to verify details. Then he took the Audi’s license plate, and since Saleem had no idea off hand what the vehicle’s VIN number was, he gave the constable his insurance company’s name as well. He waited while the man called the license plate into dispatch so that they could put out a bulletin on the car. While he spoke Saleem surveyed the company they had in a hospital cafeteria this late at night.

When another uniform walked in he almost didn’t register it until a voice said, “Saleem?”

He looked up, and just like that his head stopped throbbing. It was Claudia …

Then Saleem frowned. She was developing a shiner of her own and looked beautifully exhausted, actually.

He half-rose from his seat, all perfect manners as he stumbled over his own greeting. “Claudia? Are you … are you okay?”

Her eyes shot over to the Constable, who held up a hand to indicate he just needed a minute. She sat down next to her co-worker, tucking her hair behind an ear.

“I’m fine. I got knocked out by a guy.”

His flare of anger was both shocking and ridiculous. “What?”

“He cold-cocked me. I was out before I hit the ground. They just confirmed that I have my second concussion this year. Minor, but still not good news.” Then she looked directly into his face. “But it still looks like my night was better than yours.”

He touched his eye carefully. “I got jumped when I got home tonight. They got my wallet, car. There were three of them. I knocked one out.” Why in the world was he trying to impress her with this macho shit? Long story short: he got the crap beaten out of him.

“That’s quite the black eye. But as long as you gave as good as you got …”

He shrugged. “Almost. But not quite, obviously.”

When she smiled he had to look down at his hands. If he smiled back it would likely hurt and he didn’t want to wince.

Then he became aware that the constable had closed up his phone and was watching their back and forth with something resembling amusement. Saleem’s glance brought Claudia back to her co-worker and her radiant grin faded a bit. “What?” she snapped, her voice very different now.

“Nothing. Um, Mister Rama, they are going to be watching for your car. Hopefully we’ll get it back, but I don’t think I have to tell you it’s very unlikely. If we do find it, it’ll likely be a write-off.”

“Absolutely understood, Constable.” He nodded. “It’s just a car. I’m lucky they didn’t take me right out, I know.”

“How did you get here?” Claudia wanted to know.

He tried to ignore the warmth he got from her question, and failed at fighting his smile, which, as suspected, stung. “A woman was driving by, saw me lying on the ground. She lived in my building, recognized me. So she drove me here to avoid the expensive ambulance ride.”

Claudia returned his smile. “That was nice of her. The ladies must like you.”

He was glad it wasn’t too obvious when he blushed. “She’s a nice woman. I tried to tell her she shouldn’t drive strangers around but she wouldn’t hear it.”

“I think we’re okay here,” Vance summed up suddenly, flipping the notebook shut. “If anything comes up I’ll call you at work or at home.”

“I appreciate it.”

There was an awkward pause, which Saleem ended by standing. “Thank you so much for your help, Constable Vance. And you too, Sergeant …”

“Bauer,” Claudia finished, rising to her own substantial height and taking his offered hand. He didn’t let go right away.

“This is forward, and I apologize, but … would you allow me to take you for dinner sometime?”

If a bomb dropped right then neither cop would have so much as turned their head. Both Claudia and Constable Vance were staring at him, expressions blank.

He let go of her hand, shoving both hands in to his hoodie pockets. “Never mind, that was inappropriate. I apologize.”

She shook her head as if re-joining the conversation from an interlude. “No, no. I’m sorry, you just surprised me.”

Saleem couldn’t help but notice the other office
r’s face. He was staring with more amusement, now. What the hell had he said? He felt like a complete fool. Were they married? Nope, no ring on her hand, only his.

“You know what? I think I’d like that.”

Claudia’s voice was like a life preserver. A completely shocking goose-you-in-the-ass kind of life preserver, going by how her colleague’s head swiveled to her, his mouth opening like he meant to speak but then changed his mind.

“Great. Tomorrow night? It’ll have to be after dark.”

If she found that odd she didn’t show it. “Yeah. That works. Eight thirty? I can meet you somewhere.”

“Perfect. I like that Thai place over on 133rd. You know it?”

She gave a small smile that lit him up like Rockefeller Centre. “Yeah. I like that place. I’ll meet you there.”

“Perfect.”

“Eight thirty then.”

“Eight thirty.”

Constable Vance cleared his throat. “Do you need a ride home, Mister Rama?”

“I can take a cab -” he didn’t finish the thought. He had no cash and no way of getting money.

Vance allowed a smile. “We don’t mind, do we Sergeant?”

Damn him, but she was still smiling and he really, really liked it. And that was before she said, “Not at all.”

Essum had to say, all in all, his evening had turned out to be quite successful. Many, many sins had been released back in to the stratosphere to return again; a newly-inducted murderer, an old seasoned one, a couple rapists. Essum was back to feeling like his old self and then some. If only he had been able to get laid it would have been a red-letter night.

But it was the same old story. The girls were curious about him, wanting to take a walk on the edge, but when it really came down to it and they were alone they always had a change of heart. Unless they were supremely drunk, like the dead girl had been.

He could have “coerced” any woman’s grey matter in to agreeing with him – or even forced them. But there was something to having someone want you. He felt like a sap for it, but if they ended up not wanting him he found his drive dwindled.

His apartment was small but posh, renovated and modern even though the landlady still insisted on having cash delivered for rent. Essum didn’t want paper trails, didn’t want to deal with the “electronics” of this time since they still confused him a bit. And when he didn’t have cash, it was easy to convince the landlady that he had in fact paid her in full.

Win-win. For him, anyway.

He unlocked his door, pushed it open with a soft whisper and before he could set a foot inside he froze, unable to take another step.

Something was in there, waiting for him. Something that actually scared him, something that felt an awful lot like home.

He flicked the light on, reminding himself that nothing could actually kill him or hurt him, all that badly anyway. But that feeling hung around like old mayonnaise in a stuffy room. He let the door fall shut with a soft click, like the door was scared to be making noise, too.

Essum waited. Whatever was in his apartment was doing the same.

The longer he stood there, back of his neck tingling, the more the fear faded. He actually found himself getting pissed off, which is likely what caused him to take those steps into the living room archway. The city lights were shining through the windows, and with that sporadic back-lighting he found his eyes drawn to the arm chair in the far corner facing away from the windows. It stood out because, right now, it was facing out to the city which wasn’t the way he left it.

“Can I help you?” His voice wasn’t too shaky, it made him proud.

The person in that chair, if it was a person, didn’t move. That dark shadow stayed in place. Essum took a step forward.

His body was humming, not from fear. It was this man in his chair. He positively radiated terror. Menace. Power.

What the fuck is that thing?

“Edo Edi Essum.”

The voice was heavy, strongly accented, and it filled the room with ringing authority. Essum froze in his tracks. Only one other voice carried that kind of weight.

“Who are you?”

The laugh was enough to make his knees shake; his entire body reacted to it. The strength in that being was enough to give him an erection.

“I am your contact, Essum. We are going to give this world the shake-up it’s been waiting for.”

“But … who are you?”

That head swiveled around towards him finally, and the eyes shone white, casting their own amber glow across the room, not bright enough to actually light anything up, but as they met Essum’s gaze he flinched anyway.

“You can call me … Praesul Presul. Praesul for short.”

Protector.
That was interesting.

“So, Praesul. What do you need from me?” There was no option but to be compliant, really. He needed to be user-friendly, at least to start with.

“I am still developing, Sin Eater. I have started consuming souls … and the last one was quite a leap.”

The man stood, turning from the window and walking towards Essum. All he could see were those topaz-lit eyes and the silhouette of a man smaller than he was, narrow of shoulder and slight of limb. He took a few steps towards Essum and then stopped.

When the lights of the room came to life it made Essum jump, but he got over the surprise really fucking fast.

Developing was right. The human form was an incomplete shell, barely containing something that looked like a black smoke. It was visible in the head, through openings in the chest and legs. There were no hands yet. A dark shadow puffed in and out of what he could see of the arms.

“How long … how long did this take?” He was in awe. The power Praesul had in this unfinished form was a stunner. Could he really become stronger than this?

“A week. The last being I consumed wasn’t human. It was like getting a lightning bolt of life, hundreds of the purest souls all at once.”

Essum frowned. “What … what was it then?”

The skin and bone that there was in the face curled upward, and Essum’s blood ran a little colder when he realized Praesul was smiling. “It was an angel. And I need your help to find more of them.”