The Soul Summoner (The Soul Summoner Saga Book 1) (21 page)

BOOK: The Soul Summoner (The Soul Summoner Saga Book 1)
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I hadn't slept that well in years. 

* * *

The sound of a hammer downstairs jarred me from a deep sleep the next morning. I was alone in my bed. While our 'sleeping together' was confined to the very literal sense of the phrase, my body was so exhaustively satisfied that my brain couldn't help but wander to all sorts of 'what if' fantasies. My toes curled at the thought.

The scent of fresh coffee urged my unwilling body parts out of the bed, and my legs wobbled as I took the first step toward the bathroom. My muscles felt like Jell-O.

Downstairs, Warren was pounding nails into a new door frame around my back door. "Where did you get the tools?" I asked at the bottom of the steps. 

He looked up and smiled. "I had to go buy them, but I rented the saw. Good morning," he said.

"Good morning. How long have you been up?" I crossed the room toward the kitchen.

"I slept in and got up around seven," he said.

I laughed. "Seven is sleeping in?"

"I'm always up by four," he replied.

I shook my head and pulled a coffee mug out of the cabinet. "And you made coffee? I could get used to this." 

I carried the coffee back to the living room and stretched out on the couch. He was in his white tank top, and I admired watching his biceps flex as he used the hammer. 

He caught me grinning. "What are you doing?" he asked.

I blushed over the rim of my mug. "Enjoying the view." 

He laughed. "I had to get you a new door. The other one was broken beyond repair. McNamara must have kicked it in."

"Probably. He's like a bull in a china shop sometimes," I said. "Let me know how much I owe you, and I'll pay you back."

"Shut up." He swung the door back and forth. "How did you sleep?"

I moaned and stretched my head back. "Better than I ever have in my life."

He smiled. "Me too."

The doorbell rang. I sat up to answer it, but he held out his hand to stop me. "I can get it."

He opened the door, and Adrianne froze when she saw Warren. "Uh, who are you?" she asked with wide eyes.

"It's OK!" I called out to her. "I'm in here."

She looked Warren up and down as she crept past him. 

"Warren, that's my best friend Adrianne," I said. "Adrianne, that's Warren."

He shook her hand. "I've heard a lot about you," he said.

Her mouth was hanging open. "I haven't heard a word about you." She looked at me for an answer.

"Sure you have!" She slowly sank down on the couch beside my feet and I leaned toward her. "He's the guy I was looking for at the festival last weekend."

"The one that you said reminded you of a corpse? And now he's here installing a door?" She dropped her head to one side, her eyes bewildered. "I'm so freaking confused right now."

"I tried to call you Wednesday night to explain, but you didn't answer or call me back," I said. "A lot has happened since Sunday."

Warren laughed and returned to fixing the door. "That's an understatement."

She put her purse on the coffee table and crossed her legs. "Please catch me up," she begged. 

"I met Warren last Sunday. Remember me trying to explain to you at the festival that I couldn't read him?" I asked.

"Yeah," she said. 

I nudged her in the thigh with my toe. "He's like me. That's why I couldn't tell anything about him."

"He can do your weird voodoo stuff?" she asked.

"Yeah. More or less," I said.

She rubbed her forehead. "I'm so lost."

I took a deep breath. "Let me see if I can sum this all up. Warren lives near the beach. He saw me on the news. He couldn't read me, like I couldn't read him, so he came here to find me. On Sunday night, I came home and he was here."

She looked at Warren. "Did you break in her house?" She pointed to the door.

I shook my head. "No, Nathan did."

"The detective? Why did he break in your house?" she asked, her voice jumping up an octave.

"To take me to the hospital," I said.

"Hospital?!" she shrieked.

I looked at Warren who was leaning against the door laughing. 

"This really isn't making any sense is it?" I asked him.

He shook his head. "The more you talk, the crazier you sound."

Adrianne picked up her keys and shook her head. "Maybe I should just leave and come back later. I was just stopping by to see if you wanted to grab breakfast. My brain is not nearly awake enough to handle this kind of information." 

I laughed. "No. Stay," I said trying to hold her back with my feet.

"And I'm assuming he stayed here last night?" she asked, pointing to my pajamas.

"Yes."

"So are you like
together
now?" she asked.

Warren lost his composure and burst out laughing again. "Not until we find out if I'm her brother!"

I doubled over and buried my face in my knees. "Ha!"

She stood up. "I've got to be in the wrong house."

I reached out and grabbed her by the arm. "I'm sorry. This sounds a whole lot worse than it really is."

"I hope so," she said as I pulled her back to the couch. 

I rested my head on her shoulder. "He's really great and you're going to love him." 

She looked down at me, then over at Warren. "You're talking about him like he's a puppy."

He shook his head. "I am certainly not a puppy." He knocked his knuckles against the door. "I'm going to clean this mess up and jump in the shower. Maybe that will give you enough time to fill Adrianne in."

"OK," I said. He winked at me before he walked back outside.

In a slower version, I recapped the events of the week for my friend until she finally understood some of what I was saying. When I was done, she shook her head. "You're such a freak. Only this kind of crap happens to you."

I nodded. "I know."

"So, when do you find out the DNA test results?" She pointed up the stairs. "Because if he is your brother, I'm totally going to ask him out."

"He's hot, isn't he?" I asked.

"Smoking hot," she said. "What does he do?"

"He's a sniper," I said with a wild, excited smile.

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Of course he is."

"Oh, guess what else?" I asked. 

She held up her palms and shook her head. "There is absolutely no telling."

I punched her in the shoulder. "In the past week, the hot detective kissed me
twice
." I waved two fingers in front of her face. "Twice, Adrianne!"

She laughed. "No way."

"Yep. He is crazy jealous," I said. 

"So, you already have a backup plan." 

"Nathan isn't a backup plan," I said. "I really don't think Warren and I are related."

She smiled. "For your sake, I hope not. For my sake, I'm going to pray that you are."

I laughed and kicked her in the thigh. 

Warren came down a few minutes later with wet hair, wearing a fitted gray thermal shirt and jeans. He sat down on the love seat and placed his black boots on the floor beside him. "Did you ladies get everything figured out?" 

"I think so." Adrianne sighed. "That's a pretty unbelievable story."

He laughed. "Which part?"

"All of it." She stood up and slung her purse over her shoulder. "Well, I'm going to take off. Warren, it was really great to meet you."

Warren and I stood up. He wrapped his arms around me from behind. "You too, Adrianne. I'm sure I'll be seeing you again soon," he said.

She smiled. "I'm sure you will." She pointed at me. "You and I are having lunch on Monday, and I want every detail of how the rest of this weekend plays out."

Warren looked from her down at me. "What's happening the rest of the weekend?" 

Adrianne shook her head. "With this girl, you never know. She's a complete freak of nature."

"Bye," I said with a little wave. "I'll call you later."

When she was gone, I sat back down and Warren stretched out on the sofa, resting his head in my lap. 

"You're all wet," I said, running my nails through his hair.

He smiled up at me. "You don't care." 

He was right. 

I looked down at him. "You know, I think you're wrong."

He angled his neck back to look at me. "Wrong about what?" 

"About nobody liking you. Neither Mom, Dad, or Adrianne seemed freaked out by you at all. Adrianne even says she's going to ask you out if it turns out we're related."

He laughed. "Really?"

"Yup," I said.

"I think it's really strange. Everyone I've met with you has made me feel… normal. They don't automatically dislike me," he said. "Except Detective McNamara. He clearly doesn't like me."

I laughed. "That's a testosterone issue."

"That's probably part of it," he agreed. 

"You know, I wonder if we sort of neutralize each other. Like, maybe you're just more likable around me," I said.

"People don't seem to like you any less with me around," he said.

"That's because I'm adorable." I said as I batted my eyelashes down at him.

He chuckled. "That you are." He closed his eyes. "Tell me about this serial killer case. We haven't discussed that subject much."

It took a while, but I relayed all of the information that Nathan had given me. 

"I've heard about some of those missing girls," he said. "I wasn't aware they were related to anything else."

"Well, that's just all coming together now," I said. 

"So, they are all about the same age, race, and similar appearance. Anything else?" he asked.

"Yes. They were all kidnapped—and I assume killed—during the fall and winter months. September through December," I said.

"Huh. That's interesting," he said. 

"It's very interesting," I agreed. "Have you ever met a serial killer in person?"

He shrugged. "That's a pretty vague definition. I've met many people who have murdered more than one person."

"No, I mean like the sick and twisted Ted Bundy type," I said.

He thought for a moment. "There was one guy over in Afghanistan. He went nuts and killed a bunch of civilians while I was doing private security work. He was pretty twisted," he said. 

"Do you think that killing someone always reads the same when we look at them?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Considering how many people I've taken out, I certainly hope not. I do know there's a big difference between me looking at my comrades who have fought and killed in war and a guy that shot a bunch of kids in their sleep." 

I thought about it. "I've always assumed that it is something to do with the soul that I can detect. The actual essence of a person that thinks, makes decisions, and experiences emotions."

"I can get on board with that theory, but I don't think that people are just born good or evil. I think that their choices determine which side of the moral divide they fall on," he said. "I've never met a little kid who felt dark."

"Me either," I agreed.

"So, the choices people make taint their souls," I said. 

He nodded. "I think so because some people are definitely more evil than others."

Warren continued. "And, some people that I've known for several years have become more evil over time."

"Yeah, I'm beginning to notice that more and more," I said.

He looked up at me. "Because you're paying more attention and trying to figure it out now. I told you, it's like exercise."

"That's why you're so much better at everything than I am?" I asked. "You've been practicing it longer?"

"Having the power to end someone's life kinda makes you want to work at mastering it," he said. "You don't want that kind of loose cannon flailing around."

"Makes sense," I said.

He pointed at me. "Here's a bigger question. If it is their souls that we can see, does that mean you and I don't have souls since we can't read each other?" 

I raised my eyebrows. "That's scary."

He smiled. "I wouldn't be surprised if I didn't have a soul." 

I shook my head. "Shut up." I drummed my nails on his chest, and my thoughts returned to the girls who were missing. "Do you really think that if we found a suspected area that you could tell if there was a dead body there?" 

He closed his eyes as I played with his hair. "Absolutely."

I shuddered at the thought of feeling death everywhere I went. "I know you said it isn't a big deal, but that has to be creepy."

"I'm pretty used to it," he said. 

I scrunched up my nose. "I'll bet you freak out around cemeteries."

He laughed. "Not exactly."

I shook my head. "I don't want to talk about murders and death anymore. What do you want to do today?"

He didn't open his eyes. "I'm doing it right now." 

I rubbed my hands down his chest.  "I say, we go get some food, maybe pick up some movies from Redbox, and then spend the rest of the day doing exactly this." 

He smiled and pushed himself up. "I can get on board with that plan."

We drove to the Sunnyside Cafe for breakfast, and on the way back home stopped at the gas station near my house to pick up some movies from Redbox. "I think I'm going to get some more beer. What do you want?" I asked.

He was pulling the movies out of the kiosk. "Hold on, I'll come with you." 

The door chimed as we walked into the store. I retrieved a six pack of Highland Brewing's Pale Ale, grabbed a bag of Doritos, and followed Warren to the counter. A burly man wearing camouflage pants with suspenders was ahead of us in line. 

Warren leaned down close to my ear. "Do you think if I moved up here, I could pull off wearing those pants?" he whispered.

I honestly thought Warren could pull off a burlap sack if he really wanted to. I motioned toward the window, drawing his attention to the camouflage truck parked at the gas pump. "Only if you get the truck to go with them," I said. 

He laughed. 

I cut my eyes at him. "More important than the pants, what is this you say about moving here?"

He shrugged his broad shoulders. "It's just a thought. I don't wanna keep driving back and forth forever."

I smiled but didn't say anything. 

"What's there to do around here?" he asked. "Sell me on Asheville. And don't talk about the leaves changing colors. I don't give a shit about leaves."

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