Souls Collide: Book 1 of The Soul Wars
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Gaspard asked Adelaide to visit Lisette, hoping the older woman’s nonthreatening manner would allow Lisette to release some of her anger, and her heartache.
Lisette talked to Adelaide, telling her the whole story, and Adelaide held her as she cried. She rocked the younger woman and promised her, “Henri is done for, don’t worry, he won’t be back. You’re safe. You’re safe.”
Inside, Adelaide wasn’t so sure. What proof would they have that Henri was dead? She had to trust an unseen, unknown, mysterious Assembly of old-world vampires? She wasn’t stupid enough to trust in that. She swore to herself, if that snake of a vampire slithered his way out of his punishment, if Luc wasn’t strong enough to kill his own son, she would see to it that Henri was destroyed.
Kara was thinking similar things while on her ride. The rhythm of Rikassa’s trot soothed her. The events of the last few days were tiring. She hoped she could soon return home.
She heard the caw of a crow and looked up at the nearest tree. There were two ravens sitting there.
“So,” she said, “am I able to come back?”
She inclined her head and listened for a moment.
“You’ve got to be kidding me! He still needs me? What about my needs?”
The ravens blinked their yellow eyes and flew off.
Kara threw up her arms in frustration and turned Rikassa toward Gaspard’s mansion. She rode the horse hard and jumped down from the saddle as soon as she got close. She charged by the guards and stalked into Gaspard’s office, where he was holding a meeting with men in suits. She didn’t care.
“It seems my tenure here has been lengthened!”
Gaspard stood up with a smile, walked around his desk, and took her hand. “And it is my pleasure to have you.” He kissed her palm.
Kara glared at him, turned on her heel, and stormed out. Gaspard’s grin widened.
Adelaide overheard this exchange with satisfaction. They were good for each other, even if Kara didn’t know that. Gaspard didn’t either, believing his interest was lust and nothing more. Adelaide followed Kara down to the sparring room. The Valkyrie was already beating a punching bag, and the floor sizzled with sparks from her feet.
Adelaide took a seat on a bench and watched.
Right jab, left hook. Left jab, right hook. Low right kick, high right kick, footwork in a circle around the heavy bag. Knee strike, knee strike, followed by a spinning back kick that separated the punching bag from the stand, sending it soaring across the room where it landed with a heavy thud.
Adelaide couldn’t believe it. The heavy bag was shredded at the seam, and sand spilled out onto the floor.
“Awwww… crap!” Kara threw her gloves across the floor, tearing at her hand wrappings. “Now I have to clean this up.”
Adelaide cleared her throat to get Kara’s attention. “I am not an expert by any means, Kara, but is that supposed to be possible?”
“Hard to do, but, as you can see, not impossible.”
“Kara, what brought you here?”
Kara didn’t reply, just grabbed a bo staff and started working through basic combinations. The staff moved so fast it made an audible swishing sound that echoed in the stillness of the room. Adelaide had no idea what Kara was doing, but she did know she was glad she wasn’t Kara’s enemy.
Marc sauntered in the workout room and blanched when he saw the heavy bag. Without missing a beat, Kara chucked a bo staff at him and said, “Fight!”
She launched a vicious combination, starting with a rib strike, spinning for extra momentum, moving into a series of figure eights to push Marc back and ended with a forward thrust.
Marc recovered and gave back as good as he got. Other people, vampires and humans, gathered in the room to watch the spectacle. Adelaide heard several of the vampires betting on Marc, cheering him on, hoping that the blond intruder would get her comeuppance. The guards who reported to her bet on Kara and clapped every time she landed a strike.
Marc took the advantage when Kara slipped in a pile of heavy bag sand that had migrated across the floor. He executed a perfect four-point strike hitting her three times, missing on the last target. She scrambled out of the way and came up with a handful of sand, which she threw at Marc’s eyes. The crowd gasped.
Marc dropped his staff and rubbed at his eyes, blinking to clear his vision. He staggered, unable to see, and in pain. Someone ran to him with a wet cloth, and he used it to wipe the sand from his face. He held the cloth against his eyes and shuffled to the bathroom to wash the sand from his face.
An emaciated vampire who looked very young to Adelaide, and not all there, pointed a finger at Kara and shouted, “You cheated!” The rest of the vampires contributed with their own taunts. They didn’t notice when Marc returned from the bathroom, face and eyes red, accompanied by a serious Gaspard.
Unaware or uncaring that his Master was present, one of the more rash and egotistical vamps made a move toward Kara, attempting to get behind her and hold her by the torso and shoulder. Kara flicked her eye at Gaspard, who gave a minute nod. Without another beat, Kara shoved the staff behind and released the dagger.
“Kara did not cheat,” Gaspard announced. The room quieted, the shocked vampires looking anywhere but at him. The guards stood at attention.
“Marc, please tell them why Kara didn’t cheat.”
Marc faced the crowd and said, “Because the aim isn’t to play fair. The aim is to win. When in battle, use everything you have and end the fight. No games. No show-boating. It is life and death, people. Kara was brilliant. I wish I had thought to use the sand myself. I lost fair and square, and in a real fight, I’d be true dead.”
The emaciated vamp said, “Yeah, so what? She killed one of ours,” gesturing to the pile of ash that had settled in a neat pyramid topped off by yellow rubber charity bracelet.
“I was attacked, and I defended myself. Anyone who doubts my skills is welcome to try at any time, using any weapon. But I assure you,” Kara said, stalking the line of vamps, “if you attack, I will end you. Make no mistake.”
She continued. “Anyone interested in learning fighting techniques should sign up in the security office for our night classes. Smart vampires don’t rely on their vampiric powers alone.”
“They’ve always been enough before,” the emaciated vamp replied.
“Well, Toothpick, I have three words for you.”
Insulted, Toothpick crossed her arms. “What?”
“One lit match.”
A shiver traveled through the vamps, and Adelaide watched as several vamped out, dropping their fangs and unhinging their jaws. Adelaide scrunched on her bench, making herself as small as possible. A guard noticed and slid in front of her. Two more guards offered her their hands and together, they moved her within their ranks, out of harm’s way in case a full riot broke out.
Gaspard pulled on his power, using his position as Master to augment his power with theirs. The vampires weakened, several falling to their knees, one mewling in discomfort.
Gaspard’s voice boomed like he had a microphone. “Kara is our security expert. She is my trusted guard, and if I hear that any vampire in my seethe tried to kill her, I will send you into the sun myself. Is that clear?”
The vamps assented through nods and quiet affirmations.
“Good. Then go.”
The vamps filed out, some holding their heads as if they had a migraine. The guards led Adelaide upstairs.
Kara whirled on Gaspard. “You didn’t need to do that. I can take care of myself.”
“But you are precious, my dear Kara, and I dare not return you to your home in anything but pristine condition. While you are here, Kara, you are mine, and they needed to know that.” Gaspard exited, Marc on his heels. Kara glared at his retreating back and said, “I’m not yours, Gaspard. Not now. Not ever.”
Gaspard paused and, without looking back, said, “We’ll see.”
Kara marched out of the room and up a back staircase to the
kitchen back door, and threw the screen door open.
“Thor, brother, can you help? Sisters, please!”
A quiet rumble was all she heard, followed by silence and the distant caw of two ravens.
Acknowledgments
Acknowledging people is a challenging process because there are so many individuals, in both small and large ways, who helped make The Soul Wars happen. I’d like to acknowledge the folks at Falstaff Books, John, Jay, Melissa and Jaym, for believing in this book, as well as my DragonCon family, who encouraged me to start writing again, and made me practice saying, “I am a writer,” until I could say it without feeling foolish.
Last, I’d like to acknowledge Natania Barron for creating ridiculously awesome covers.
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About the Author
J.D. Blackrose is the fantasy pen name of Joelle Reizes. She loves all things storytelling and celebrates great writing by posting about it on her website, www.slipperywords.com.
When not writing, Blackrose lives with three children, an enormous orange cat, her husband and a full-time job in Corporate Communications. She’s fearful that so-called normal people will discover exactly how often she thinks about wicked fairies, nasty wizards, homicidal elevators, and the odd murder. As a survival tactic, she has mastered the art of looking interested.
Copyright © 2017 by J.D. Blackrose
Cover Design by Natania Barron
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This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is coincidental. Except that bit about that guy. That’s totally a thing.
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