Dark Souls

by J. L. Weil

  Our eyes locked. “It is. I just transferred in.”

  “You don’t plan on disappearing again before I get the chance to ask you out, do you?” His fingers were fumbling with mine.

  Oh, dear gods. This wasn’t going at all like I’d planned. Why wasn’t he ignoring me? I’d hurt him. His flirting threw for me a loop. “Ask me out?”

  He leaned closer. Why did he have to smell so good? “Before anyone else does.” His voice was like velvet—deep and silky.

  None of the other guys at this school, or in the universe, stood a chance against Jensen. “Uh, I’m not really sure how long I’ll be here,” I replied lamely. I had more experience than all the girls in this school combined, but for some reason, when it came to Jensen, my flirt factor dropped.

  Jensen started to walk backward, releasing my hand. “Then I better move quick.” He shot me another bone-melting grin before slipping into the English classroom.

  A group of girls whispered behind me. “Did Jensen just ask out the new girl?”

  “Uh, I think so. Bitch,” muttered one of the nameless girls I could have cared less about.

  Dazzled, I followed Jensen inside, taking one last glance over my shoulder and scanning the halls for the pesky dark soul. Mason was nowhere to be found, and I felt no cold drift in the air.

  The only empty seat in the classroom was behind Jensen. He already had a notebook out on his desk, and he winked as I passed.

  I didn’t hear a thing the teacher said, not even her name. My eyes couldn’t stop staring at Jensen, and his intoxicating scent screwed with my head. I swore I sighed out loud. A few heads turned my way. I let my hair fall forward over my face.

  What was surely the longest and possibly the shortest hour of my life went by, time seemed irrelevant with Jensen in the room. I didn’t notice class had ended until Jensen stood up. “Okay, little bookworm, tell me you’ve already read The Great Gatsby.”

  Read it? I was alive when it was written. “What is the assignment?” I asked, collecting my bag off the floor. I’d sat through the entire class without taking notes.

  He leaned a hip on the desk, angling his body toward me. “If you want, I’ll lend you my notes.”

  That was sweet of him to offer, but I had a better idea—one that would be both tortuous and irresistible. Jensen was more than yummy. He was also smart. “Actually, my advisor suggested I get a tutor for a few weeks to catch me up to speed. Any chance you’d be interested?”

  He pulled out a notebook and started jotting something down. “Here’s my address. It’s a house just off campus.” Tearing a corner off the page, he handed me the slip of paper. “We can start on Saturday. I have a game tonight. You should come … just like old times.”

  I glanced down, already knowing what it said. “Thirteen Raven Circle. Wow. We’re neighbors.”

  “You moved into the Turner House? We saw the truck the other day. You got lucky. It’s hard to find vacant rooms during the school year.”

  Luck had nothing to do with it. I shared the house with Q and Scarlett. They were interesting roommates. “I swear, I’ll be tripping over boxes for days.”

  His lips curved into a lopsided grin that was quickly becoming my undoing. “If you want some help, you know where to find me. Hopefully, I’ll see you tonight … neighbor.”

  I blew out a breath. “Can’t wait.” Jensen’s safety was my only concern, and being close to him would to take all my willpower to stay focused.

  How the hell would I keep my hands off him?

  The sun was beginning to set as I turned the shower on and stripped off my clothes. I had an hour so before the lacrosse game to unwind. Steam filled the bathroom, and I caught a look at myself in the mirror. For being born in the first century, I didn’t look a day over twenty. My dishwater blonde hair naturally curled and could be unruly most days. I gave up trying to manage it decades ago. It’s not like I would be winning any beauty pageants in the underworld. Eyes the color of sapphires stared back at me from my reflection.

  At seventeen, I was turned immortal, during the Saga of Norse. In my previous life, I was a druid priestess—a warrior and the daughter of a druid chieftain, making me the perfect Valkyrie. My father served under Talon’s family’s reign. Although, prior to turning immortal, I had had very little interaction with the sexy druid, Talon.

  Not long after my training to be a Valkyrie began, I joined Talon in his escapade to save his people … and my people. The fight condemned me to Hell for eternity.

  There are rules, and my decision to follow Talon and help our people broke the laws. Talon carried the burden of his choice to save his people from being slaughtered during the Saga of Norse, turning them immortal and suffered the wrath of the Gods, but I never blamed him as many of the other druids had. I had wanted to help them as much as he did. We had all suffered great losses.

  I might not love my job as a reaper every day of the year, but it had brought me to Jensen, even though finding my mortal mate was a double-edged sword: I loved him, and I would never be able to be with him. I put him in danger.

  Story of my life.

  “What am I going to do about Jensen?” I muttered to myself, hands gripping the side of the counter. When I arrived in Sterling two years ago, I knew the moment I saw Jensen what he was to me. From that day, I did everything possible to keep my distance.

  Apparently, it hadn’t been enough. He remembered me. The girl inside me danced with glee, knowing that I made an impression on Jensen’s memory, but by doing so I also put him on the Fates’ radar. If I meddled too much in his life, if he found out what I really was, if I got too close, the Fates would do their job.

  And that would make me very unhappy.

  Mortals was assigned three Fates who stayed with them through their lifetime to make sure they stayed on track—that nothing interfered with their destiny.

  I was definitely an interference.

  And I didn’t want the Fates messing with Jensen’s head.

  I didn’t want anyone messing with Jensen. Period.

  I stayed in the shower until my skin turned pink, but a chill coursed through my blood that could never be warmed. The underworld was a very cold place.

  Stepping into the sparsely furnished bedroom, I changed into a pair of jeans and a sweater. Regardless of the temperature, I wore layers. I never knew when I might have to make a trip to Hell. After adding boot leggings, a pair of black knee-high boots, and minimum makeup, I grabbed my keys to the little Fusion parked in the garage. However much I’d rather travel through portals, I needed to appear as human as possible.

  If the dark soul thought I was letting my guard down, all the better.

  I slid behind the wheel and reversed down the driveway and into the cul-de-sac. Jensen’s truck wasn’t in the driveway, which meant he was already at the university field. Tonight was a home game.

  Excitement that had no business sparked inside me, blossoming. I would see Jensen in a few minutes.

  I swore my mortal mate would be my downfall.

  Chapter 3

  Twenty minutes later, I sat down in the bleachers at Sterling University with Q and Scarlett. Neither of them seemed overjoyed at my sudden rah-rah school spirit.

  “Why the sudden interest in lacrosse?” Scarlett asked. “It wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain dark-haired player, would it? Not that I’m complaining. Staring at a bunch of hot guys’ asses isn’t a bad way to spend a Friday night.”

  Q scoffed. “Speak for yourself. The lacrosse team really needs a dance squad—something to liven up the game.”

  “I’m here to tag and bag this scumbag once and for all. That’s it.” The dark soul was still out there, and he was close.

  Lacrosse wasn’t my thing. Sports in general weren’t my thing, except if you counted reaping souls as a sport—then I was your girl. But if Jensen was here, so was I.

  I had to admit, I actually found myself enjoying the game. Scarlett had a point. Jensen looked striking in
his uniform of maroon and gold, but I already knew he would.

  The game quickly became intense. I watched as the away team slammed another goal past Trevor (our goalie), tying the game 2-2. The Sterling lacrosse team was good—second in its conference—but the Gators were right on our heels, fighting to take our place in the division.

  “He’s good, huh?” Scarlett asked, nudging me with her shoulder.

  “Who?” I replied, feigning ignorance. I wasn’t fooling anyone.

  “Jensen, silly.”

  “I guess if you’re into sweaty jocks.” And boy was I ever. It brought forth a reel of memories that needed to stay memories. In high school, I had watched Jensen practice and gone to his games. It had been the happiest I’d been since becoming a reaper.

  Players flung their netted sticks in the air, whipping the ball down the field. I watched as Jensen’s legs ate up the ground, dodging and spinning through one defense after the other. He ran fast and aggressively. I might have been clueless when it came to the rules of lacrosse, but seeing him in his element, I was impressed.

  He was hot.

  But the flush of seeing Jensen kick ass on the field came to a screeching halt. A sudden cold front moved through the air, sending icy tingles down my spine.

  “Your shadow friend is back,” Q sung, his eyes moving off to the left side of the field.

  Sure as shit, the shadowy figure drifted toward the stands. “Looks like I’m going hunting. Fill me in on the highlights.”

  Scarlett threw me an annoyed look. “Why do you always get to have all the fun?”

  “Because I’m the reaper,” I replied, standing up.

  Scarlett pouted.

  I zigzagged across the aisle before making my way down the steps. Once I cleared the crowd and snuck under the bleachers, I engaged my runes. The stands obscured the sunlight, but the runes helped me see even in the darkest of places.

  “Come out, come out, wherever you are.” The game and the crowd above me muffled my voice, but it wouldn’t stop the dark soul from hearing me. I could sense him and felt drawn to him, and I cursed his inky form blending in with the shadows.

  “Gotcha,” whispered a soft voice behind me.

  I spun around, my curly hair whipping out with the movement. I hated being toyed with.

  It was a soul all right, just not the one I was looking for. Where the hell had he gone?

  This soul wasn’t a dark soul, just your everyday lost soul. He lurched forward, but I darted out of the way. The next second, instinct took over and propelled me into action. “I think you’re a little lost. Let me take you home.” The tats on my fingers appeared, mimicking the ones on my dagger.

  With a flick of my dagger, the portal to Hell formed—a gray mass that spun like a tornado until I could see to the other side. All the years I’d spent training kicked in.

  This particular soul was one of the bad dudes—not as nasty as Mason, but his time was up all the same.

  “It will be easier on both of us if you don’t fight me.”

  The soul took one look at the portal and bolted.

  “Shit,” I muttered, giving chase. “Stop!” I commanded it. “If you run, it will only make things worse.

  The soul froze, terror in his eyes. Sometimes this job sucked.

  I marched up to the soul and gave him a shove in the direction of the portal. “Let’s go, asshat, before I decide to use this on you,” I threatened, letting him see the full glory of my dagger.

  Looks like I needed to take a quick trip to Hell. Good thing I wore my fuzzy socks.

  I grabbed the soul by the ear and tugged him into the swirling mass of gray. Together we disappeared into the murky and freezing tunnel. I flipped my hood up. Why hadn’t I worn my puffy jacket?

  When I came back from Hell, the game had ended. I popped out from behind the bleachers and came face to face with Jensen. A slow smile crossed his face. “You came.” He had his facemask in his hand and beads of sweat dotted his brow line.

  Nonchalantly, I brushed the cobwebs and dust from my hair. He didn’t seem to notice. His eyes hadn’t left mine. “Yeah, well, I had nothing better to do on a Friday night.”

  “A bunch of us are going to the Pressed Cafe. You should come.”

  “Um, I’m here with a few friends, but I’m sure they wouldn’t mind.” Mason still roamed around out there, which meant I would be stuck to Jensen like white on rice.

  He quickly flashed his dimples. “I’ll buy you a coffee.”

  If I weren’t already in love, coffee would have done the trick.

  The scent of freshly brewed coffee and baked pastries perfumed the air in Pressed Cafe. It was always bustling on a Friday night, especially after a win.

  Q, Scarlett, and I grabbed a table in the back corner. One of the lacrosse players shot me a come-get-me-grin as I passed by. I ignored him.

  Q sat across from me. His nails were painted black and chipped at the ends. He had picked up the nervous habit of biting his nails. Being a channeling wasn’t a stress-free gig. “Okay, Em. What is the deal with this soul? We’ve known you for a long time and souls don’t escape you, not even dark ones.”

  “It’s like you’re being extra cautious.” Scarlett took a sip of her latte and licked the white foam off her lips.

  I sighed. They were both right. I’d already filled them in on the way over about the soul not being the one I was searching for. “I’ve never encountered a soul like Mason’s. And as much as I hate to admit it, I might need to call for backup before he resorts to hurting mortals.”

  “Possibly one mortal in particular.”

  I said nothing.

  “Come on, Em. We all know there is something between you and the sexy-pants lacrosse player. Two years ago you made the same googly eyes at Jensen, and then you skipped town, not once stepping foot near Sterling. You poured every waking second into reaping souls, like you were trying to distract your mind from thinking about him.”

  I scowled at Scarlett. “I do not make googly eyes.”

  “Really? That’s all you have to say?”

  I fumbled with the straw wrapper, unsure how much I should tell them. It would only involve them more, and I didn’t want to put my only friends on the Fates’ radar. “Fine. He’s my mortal mate.”

  “As in soul mate?” Q asked. “Whoa.”

  Scarlett grinned. “At least for a reaper you have excellent taste in guys.”

  Speaking of guys … I scanned the café. Where the hell was Jensen? I didn’t see him anywhere, and I kicked myself in the butt for not sticking around the lockers after the game and following him like the stalker I was swiftly becoming. “Do either of you see him? He was supposed to meet me here.”

  They both turned around and scoured the packed eatery. “I don’t think he is here,” Q said, brows furrowing.

  “I have a bad feeling.” Scarlett frowned.

  Me too.

  “You don’t think a certain dark soul got to him, do you?” Q asked.

  I gulped. “Don’t even joke.” I shot to my feet, because suddenly I felt sick to my stomach, and it wasn’t the coffee.

  Exiting out the back door, I entered a narrow alley with Q and Scarlett following behind me. I looked around and then cursed. Besides the air being cold enough to freeze my tits, the alley was empty.

  A soul was close.

  Black garbage bags lined the brick walls alongside an overflowing dumpster. A furry critter scurried under the trash, and I shuddered. I hated rats.

  Scarlett grimaced behind me, doing a little squeamish shimmy. “Nasty. Why didn’t we use the front door?”

  “So I could use my runes without anyone seeing us,” I whispered.

  With my runes glowing, I walked cautiously farther down the alley, scanning the dark passage. It opened to the parking lot, and a burst of unease trickled down my neck. I slipped my hand into the back pocket of my jeans, pulling out my dagger.

  I saw a blur of black, and my blood froze. Jensen exited his truck, comp
letely oblivious to the evil zooming straight for him. There was no way, even with my runes, that I could make it to Jensen before the dark soul hit him, but damn if I wouldn’t make Mason pay.

  I ran, my runes glowing on my skin. The force of the impact reached me, propelling me forward. It was a sickening sound, bones cracking, and though I wasn’t the one being pummeled, pain ricocheted within my chest. Mason executed a hit-and-run, forcing me to decide between healing Jensen or going after the malicious soul.

  I stood over Jensen for a whole second. It felt like an hour. “I’m going to torture his soul for all eternity,” I swore, dropping to my knees beside a bleeding Jensen.

  The direct hit to his chest hadn’t done the bulk of the damage. It had been the fall that had propelled him into the air and broken his arm. His breathing was labored as I laid his head in my lap. “It’s going to be okay,” I whispered, brushing a kiss onto his temple.

  Blood oozed from the side of his head, coating his hair with the sticky substance. Numerous abrasions covered his body from sliding across the pavement.

  Q and Scarlett were right behind me. “Oh, my gods!” Scarlett shrieked. “Do something, quick!”

  What did she think I was doing? Sitting on my tush and twiddling my thumbs? “I’m working on it.”

  “You can fix this, right?” Q asked.

  I nodded, but not without a price. This would be the second time I’d healed Jensen. Once was acceptable. Twice was pushing it. One more time and Jensen would be immortal like Scarlett. I wanted to keep him alive, not toss him into my world.

  The tingling sensation of the runes I etched on Jensen’s skin began to work their magic. I sensed the wounds, the muscles, and the bones as they mended themselves back together. He stayed unconscious throughout the process, which only took a minute or so. Afterward, I wanted nothing more than to get out of there. “Let’s get him home.”

  The parking lot remained vacant, Pressed Cafe still packed with students. A lamppost went out, giving us the coverage of darkness.