The Lost Soul Trilogy (Primani Book 5) (83 page)

Panting from the adrenaline rush, I shook my fingers to disperse some of the extra energy racing through me. It was getting stronger every time I switched into soldier-mode. I was getting physically stronger too. I felt a pang of guilt over breaking Rivin. Even though he’d thrown me into a tree…

“Wait! Rivin, are you okay?”

“He’s fine, babe.”

As I walked away, I heard Rivin complain, “She’s not normal!”

Killian’s laughter drifted on the breeze. “You haven’t seen the half of it. Don’t piss her off. You could lose an arm.”

Rivin was lounging across the couch flipping channels when I came downstairs. He studiously ignored me when I walked by. His shoulders were tense but he didn’t turn around. The air practically simmered around him. He was most unhappy with me…

“Hey, loser, what’s on?” I called over my shoulder on the way into the kitchen.

Without seeming to move, he appeared next to me and shoved me into the counter. His eyes were cold and flat when he sneered in my face, “Watch yourself, human! You’re not my charge. I might get careless with you.”

“You’re hurting my back.”

“So what?”

Reacting from pure instinct, I whipped out my Primani blade and slipped the tip into the open space above his jeans. His belly contracted like he’d been electrocuted. I nudged him a bit for good measure. His skin popped like a grape.

“Shit.”

“Now what?” I sneered into his face and he looked wildly behind him.

“Do you have a death wish?” Killian clapped his hand on Rivin’s shoulder and firmly pulled him away from me.

“Nice reflexes,” Rivin said grudgingly to me. He stepped back and rubbed at his belly.

“Oh, don’t whine. You’re not even bleeding--much.”

I sheathed the blade and gave Killian a long look. He gave me a wink and took my hand. “Do you want to go for a walk?”

The forest was dense behind the house, but a small trail wound like a serpent through the brush. It wasn’t wide enough for us to walk side by side, so Killian took point and I walked behind him. I didn’t mind; the view was spectacular…and the woods were nice, too. Now and then birds called to each other and I thought I heard the tapping of a woodpecker. The forest was alive around us; there was a sense of hushed waiting, a watchfulness that gave me the creeps. After a while we came to a small grassy clearing where someone had set up a fire ring and some logs. The stones that were used for the fire ring were weathered and smooth as if they’d been exposed for a long time. Bright green moss sprawled over some of the smaller stones. The fire had long since been put out; there was nothing left but greyish dirt. There were eight perfectly straight trees that formed a large circle around us. Each tree had a symbol carved into it. They looked like runes.

“How are you feeling?” Killian asked with serious eyes.

Surprised by the question, I hesitated. “Fine…I guess…Why?”

“I need you to do something for me. Can you look around us and see what you sense? It’s important.”

Slowly, I asked, “The trees? What is this place?”

He waved away my questions. “It’s a protective circle. We’re safe here. Just look around.”

Nervous now, I peered into the dense growth and felt a million evil eyes looking back at me. Chills went down my spine and I inched closer to Killian.

He put his arm around me and said, “It’s safe enough now. Stop scaring yourself.”

Not entirely reassured, I said, “Sit with me then and I’ll do it.”

He sat on one of the logs and patted the space between his legs. There wasn’t a lot of room, but I managed to perch my butt on the log and leaned against him. He pulled my braid from between us and draped it over my shoulder. “Ready?”

Closing my eyes, I inhaled slowly and cleared my mind. Letting conscious thoughts evaporate, I focused on sensations. The gentle breeze on my face, the scent of earth and fire, the steady beat of Killian’s heart against my shoulder…inhaling and slowing my heart, I settled my mind and got to work.

Reaching out, scanning, searching…the forest teemed with life. I sensed mice, moles, insects…tiny creatures living out their part of the plan; feverishly searching for food, watching for predators, just hoping to survive long enough to reproduce. Larger animals burrowed in for the day…foxes, badgers, skunks…curled up in dens with their noses tucked under their tails like dogs. One skunk seemed to sense my presence and blinked sleepily into my eyes. Smiling faintly, I left him to his dreams and went back to my searching.

A howl drifted through the trees…answered by another lonely howl. They were far away, the sound barely there, but it sent a shiver down my back.

Killian murmured, “Wolves. Keep searching, I’ll keep watch.”

Searching farther away, I caught something. The barest hint…the fleeting sensation of evil, but then it was gone. Zeroing in on the location, I narrowed my eyes and scanned again. There it was again! Like a wraith, it moved in front of my eyes…gossamer, sheer, not fully formed…come on, show yourself!

It stared directly at me.

With eyes and a shape now, it screamed, its black mouth an open void. I backed away, it surged forward lunging at me. Retreating at full speed, I pulled my eyes back to the clearing and jumped away from Killian.

“It’s coming!”

“What happened? What did you see?”

Turning slowly, I whispered, “It’s here.”

Killian turned to follow my gaze and said, “Holy God.”

Los Angeles, California:

DESTINY GIROUX BLINKED in the streaming sunlight and cursed the bare window. She’d just moved into this dump and hadn’t found the money for curtains yet. Eating was a bigger priority, though she’d give up food for a week to block the sun right now. The early morning brightness nearly split her head open. Her head pounded with one too many tequila shots and her mouth felt like a cat had crawled inside and died. What had she been thinking? She would have to call in sick. No way did she want to work today. With a moan, she closed her eyes and turned her back on the sun. Her nose bumped into warm skin. Her eyes flew open.

Oh, yeah, that’s right. It was
him
; that hot guy. Even her pounding head couldn’t erase the memory of the early morning hours spent rolling around with him. She licked her lower lip, feeling the tiny scab where he’d split the skin with the force of his mouth. The bed had been worked over so well the sheets were hanging off the side. He’d turned her inside out until she’d finally screamed for mercy. Destiny vaguely remembered passing out while he was still primed to go. Had he stopped? She had no idea but the thought of that hard body working against hers sent a painful rush of heat racing between her legs. She sighed and devoured him through her fake lashes. Sprawled on his stomach with his face turned away from her prying eyes, he was dead to the world.

As bits and pieces of the night came back to her, she considered her schedule. She had nothing pressing; she’d call in sick after all. There would be plenty of time…It was morning after all, and men were always good to go in the morning. She wanted to keep him a little longer but her instincts whispered to her. She should let him go, he wasn’t safe…

Maybe she’d been lucky last night; he’d clearly wanted sex. How would he be in the daylight? He could be a serial killer. He might wake up and screw her one last time and then stab her in the chest. He sighed and mumbled something in his sleep and she relaxed. Surely he wasn’t a serial killer. They didn’t smell this good, did they? Trying not to wake him yet, she leaned closer and breathed in the scent of his skin…woodsy, clean.

Last night had been amazing, a fantasy come to life. This gorgeous, dangerous man stalked into her life, crooked his finger, and fucked her brains out. Even totally wasted, she took one look at him and knew there was something strange about this guy. He held himself taut, scanning the room from the bar. Both eyes were ringed with the yellow and green remnants of a hellacious black eye. The greenish bruising ran down one cheekbone and across the crooked bridge of his nose. He practically screamed ‘bad boy’ and the bruises couldn’t hide the gorgeous face underneath. Primed with liquid courage, she didn’t even hesitate when she saw him sitting alone at the end of the bar. He was a fantasy come true and she wanted a piece of that.

He didn’t say a word to her when she’d come on to him. He simply looked at her and she melted into a puddle of hormones. He’d smiled wickedly and headed for the door. She’d followed him and brought him here. She’d been all over him as soon as they made it inside her loft. It wasn’t every day that a smoking hot man agreed to go home with her. She’d thought he was hot last night, but that had been after a lot of tequila. Usually, the really hot guys turned out to be losers in the morning light. This one…what was his name? Shit, she didn’t remember. It didn’t matter anyhow; she didn’t care that much. She’d enjoy him a little longer and then kick him out. Arching against his side, she ran her hands over the flat muscles of his back.

“Wake up, baby. It’s morning. I have a surprise for you--”

Before she could blink, she was flat on her back with her hands pinned over her head. He glared into her face with eyes that burned like Hell itself.

Antarctica:

With snow whipping around him, Sean stood on the edge of the precipice leaning into the wind and willing it to take him away. Ice crystals stung his eyes but he didn’t care. He welcomed the pain, the cold. Maybe the snow would put out the fire. The raging storm mirrored his thoughts and he finally hung his head. What was he thinking? The girl’s terrified face haunted him; her blue eyes wide and flooded with tears; red hair curling across the pillow like so much spilled blood…

He’d been tied in knots when he ended up to Los Angeles last night. Since leaving Ireland, he didn’t care where he traveled; he just closed his eyes and went. He was wound so tightly he was about to snap. His body ached with tension and too much energy. It was something he couldn’t control. Rage stimulated their
saols
; his was in constant readiness for combat. Like an adrenaline rush, the power raced through him keeping him tense and edgy. Without a release, he was dangerously unstable. He knew it; had seen this happen to other Primani. It hadn’t ended well for them…he thought of the Stone Garden and shuddered.

Last night he’d been stretched to his breaking point, his body screaming for release. He only knew two ways to get it. Killing a fat juicy demon was one option. The other involved a willing female. Since the demons were all attending the Academy Awards, he’d zeroed in on the redhead. She was willing enough. Hell, she was all over him. She’d practically stripped him in the elevator. The second the doors hissed shut, she’d shoved his shirt up and ran her delicate hands all over him. He’d had to grab her hand when she’d gone for his zipper. Stupid slut. Didn’t she know she meant nothing to him? He’d only taken what he needed.

It had been her lucky night. As a Primani, his body could do things on its own whether he put the effort into it or not. The heat, the power…these things turned on the minute his body primed for sex. He was good at everything he did, and sex was on the top of his list. He’d given her a thrill that she’d never find again…and he got, well, nothing. His body was still on fire and his karma had taken a nosedive. He rubbed a hand over his face and ground his teeth together. It was risky to mingle with humans that way…he knew better.

What was he thinking?

He wasn’t thinking at all…he was just careening out of control.

Damn it! He needed Mica. Mica could help him if he called to her. She had the power in her strong, lethal hands. She settled him down with the touch of her fingers, but she wasn’t his to call anymore. He had no rights to her now. He’d pushed her into Killian’s arms; it was his fault she left him. She had given her innocent heart to him and he left her devastated and alone with Killian. He didn’t come back to her for a year.

She was right to move on.

He didn’t blame her for that. He wouldn’t want her to pine for him. The bitch of it was he couldn’t
remember
where he had been. His memory was disappearing every day.
Something
had kept him away, but what? He’d be damned if he could remember it now. Shit, he was damned anyway…he snorted a bitter laugh at the mess he’d made. So he’d disappeared for some reason, lost Mica forever, and ended up on this piece of shit ice cap.

Karma was a bitch.

Admitting it was his fault didn’t make it any easier to take. He missed Mica like air, like water. She was his other half, and tearing her away was like tearing off one of his arms. He’d been spinning around off balance for months.

Looking across the expanse of Antarctica, he mused, “I’m losing my friggin’ mind.”

Houston, Texas:

Like clockwork, the dream came again. It was the same as before; a maddening glimpse without answers. The mist covered her face. The woman stood just beyond his reach, just out of focus, her lithe body swaying against the gusting wind. The silk of her gown clung to every curve. The white silk hissed in the wind, the sound going straight to his gut. His hands remembered the feel of the slippery material, the softness of the gown, of her skin. His stomach clenched as he tried to see her more clearly. He knew that body…knew the curve of her hip.

“Come closer!” he called to her.

Shaking her head, she held out her hands to him. A ruby glinted on one finger, its fire the only color in the dream. He tried to go to her but his feet wouldn’t carry him. He struggled to break loose but he was stuck.  The mist grew heavier until she faded into the white background like a ghost into the fog.

“No! Wait!”

Shouting hoarsely, he sat up in bed dripping with sweat. Still caught in the dream, he looked blankly around the white room. The dream started to fade and he blinked at the unfamiliar hotel room walls. Groaning, he squeezed his eyes shut to escape the dream, but the woman’s face hung in his mind. He knew her…even featureless, she looked into his soul.

“Who are you?” he whispered to the empty air. Shaking it off, he rolled over to look at the clock. It was 5:00. “Shit, it’s too early.”

After a 10-mile run, he took a shower and checked out. The bored desk clerk handed him a receipt and turned back to the morning news show. Sean scanned the empty lobby and stepped into the men’s room. No one would see him leave.

Plattsburgh, New York:

The farmhouse was empty. Invisible to the human eye, he stood just inside the tree line scanning the house and the woods around it. Satisfied it was safe, he crossed the backyard and slipped inside. He shut the door and locked it. Leaning against the wall, he grimaced as pain stabbed deep inside his skull. Squeezing his eyes closed, he pushed both hands against his temples trying to dull the pain. His left eye twitched and he rubbed at it absently. A sharp spasm of pain drove him to his knees and he bowed his head waiting for the pain to stop. It would, eventually, but until then he couldn’t see straight.

After a bit, he got to his feet and stumbled into the kitchen. Rummaging through the pantry, he dragged boxes of food out onto the counter. Damn it, there has to be something I can just eat! The headaches were relentless now. Traveling was making them worse. He’d been moving around for weeks dispatching demons in Chicago, Houston, Timbuktu, and God only knew where else. He’d hit each city like a lightning bolt; crashing brutally into the demons unlucky enough to come into his cross-hairs. Along the way, he’d settled a few scores and killed off some of Dec’s loose ends too. Dec wouldn’t be too happy with him at the moment. But then, Dec wasn’t here, was he? That was part of the problem. Forcing his brother’s disappointed face from his mind, he sagged and rubbed at his eyes.

He’d finally run out of energy.

Although, at this point, he didn’t need it anyhow; he was…ineffective.

Grimacing, he thought that was an understatement. He was a complete failure as a Primani. Oh, he was spectacular at killing demons, but that was only part of the job. He’d failed at the important parts. Yeah, he sucked at the
human
parts. He was just waiting for someone to call him on it. He’d be better off drifting into obscurity and letting nature take its course. Sooner or later, he’d slip up and get blown away. It was only a matter of time. His control was gone; he was reckless; he was careless. Sooner or later...sighing, he stared at the contents of the pantry. His stomach roiled in protest but a small part of him wanted to survive. He knew he had to eat something. But now he was blinded by the pain and the idea of cooking made him want to puke.

Sitting hunched over the counter, he mechanically ate half a box of stale crackers. Washing them down with tap water, he was relieved to realize the bitch of a headache was receding to a deep ache behind his left eye.

“Why don’t you heal yourself?”

Great. Just what he needed.

“You’ve got balls, I’ll give you that. What makes you think I won’t kill you?”

Jordan spread his hands and smiled. “You’re not strong enough,” though he eyed Sean warily and moved carefully into the kitchen doorway. “Besides, I have a proposition for you.”

Sean stiffened and glared at him. “There’s nothing you can offer me. You’re a traitor. Get the hell out!”

“Oh, I could make it worthwhile for you. I could use someone with your power on my side. Demons are…shall we say…volatile? They don’t work well with humans. I need you to lead my soldiers; they have a lot to learn about the human world.”

Jordan shimmered into two images and Sean blinked to clear his eyes. His eye twitched maddeningly and the kitchen shifted and swayed making him dizzy. Gripping his head, he squeezed his eyes shut again.

Jordan stood patiently watching, his expression speculative. Finally, he offered, “I could heal that for you. I have the power now.” He patted the side of his jacket.

Sucking in a deep breath, Sean said, “No! It’s nothing. I’ll take care of it later.” Wearily, he looked up at the multiple images of Jordan and added, “If you’re here to kill me, just do it. I don’t even mind. Otherwise, get out so I can puke without an audience.”

Chuckling with real affection, Jordan said, “I’ve always liked you, Sean. I’m afraid you’ll have to put yourself out of your own misery. I’m still counting on you to join me.”

He turned to leave and called over his shoulder, “You will, in time. Call me when you’re ready. I’ll send Dagin to fetch you.”

Sean threw his glass at the space where Jordan had stood and swayed against the kitchen table. His vision dimmed to black and he crashed to the floor.