Soul Bite

by D. N. Erikson

  There was one other complicating factor: my soul-binding agreement with Aldric. The legal contract which indentured me to his employ forever would be inherited by Black Sea Holdings should he die.

  Forever was truly forever—unless I dissolved the agreement.

  And doing so would require a sliver of Lucille’s soul.

  Sierra said, “You still there, E?”

  I jumped about half a mile.

  When my nerves finally subsided, I took a deep breath and said, “I’ll need your help.”

  “Tell me when and where.”

  “I will. Soon.”

  “You’re not pushing me away to keep me safe, right?”

  I ran my fingertips over the stubby fangs and grimaced. “Afraid I don’t really have that luxury anymore.”

  The call ended.

  My thumb hovered over the phone’s screen.

  I fired off a text to Dante Cross to gather the team, hoping that he was awake or that someone would check his phone.

  The response was instantaneous: Where? – Zoe

  I gave her the address to the motel, then added, Bring new clothes.

  Then I sat on the worn comforter and waited.

  33

  Zoe came alone with a shopping bag. Moonlight streamed through the dusty window, glinting off her fiery red hair as stood in the doorway.

  “Where’s everyone else?” I asked, hiking up the towel so it covered the top of my chest.

  The fox shifter sniffed the air in suspicion. Her neck stiffened, and she dropped the bag. “You smell like vampire.”

  “Kind of hard to cram a day’s worth of details into a sixty-word text message.” I beckoned her inside.

  The diminutive woman’s expression was grave. That was nothing new, though. She hadn’t trusted me from the day we’d met.

  Zoe picked up the bag, but didn’t try to come in. “I can smell him.”

  “Aldric?”

  “Yes.”

  “He’s the one who bit me,” I said. “Look, I have a plan to sort this out if you’d—”

  “Is he watching?”

  “I hope not.” But it was just a hope. He had eyes everywhere.

  “Were you trying to catch us all in a trap?” Zoe’s eyes flicked wildly from side to side, scanning the dirty hallway.

  “You got me,” I said. “Plan ruined.”

  Zoe didn’t look amused by my sarcasm. But she did push past me, into the motel room. “Nice place you got yourself.”

  “Well, my house burned down.”

  “What a shame.” She didn’t sound sorry at all as she tossed the bag on the bed. “Clothes might not be your size.”

  I let the door shut and headed to the bag. Inside was a pair of flats, a tan pair of jeans, and a t-shirt.

  Zoe didn’t turn around as I dropped the towel. She assessed my wounds with her gaze.

  “You’ve been through the wringer since we last talked.”

  I grunted, hands smarting from where I’d cut them escaping from Valeria’s. Since she was about six inches shorter—the shifter couldn’t have been more than four ten or four eleven—the jeans fit like capris and the t-shirt was tight, exposing my midriff.

  “Now I almost see what Dante sees,” Zoe said with a critical eye. “A little pale, though.”

  “Gee, you’ll make a girl blush.” The flats, luckily, were a perfect fit. Guess she had big feet for her height.

  “Come here.”

  I would’ve asked why, but for once I just followed instructions.

  She stood on her tip-toes to inspect the bite mark. “A Reaper is unable to be turned under all but the most extreme of circumstances.”

  “Which are?”

  “A powerful vampire. Centuries old. But, even that will not be enough. Aldric would have had to coat his fangs with a special poison.” Zoe allowed her shoes to sink back to the worn carpet. “You really are looking quite pale.”

  “So he planned this,” I said.

  “Indeed. The Reaper’s Sorrow is a powerful curse that must be brewed well in advance. If I had to guess, the vampire had it made long ago.”

  Probably crafted by Valeria, no less.

  From the day he’d brought me here over four years ago, this had been his end game.

  My complete and utter loyalty.

  “Bastard,” I said under my breath.

  “When were you bitten?”

  “A little bit before midnight yesterday.”

  Zoe counted on her fingers. “You will turn in three days. At Friday before midnight.”

  I’d have been defiant, but Zoe had spent five years apprenticed to an apothecarial sorceress. It stood to reason that she wasn’t pulling things out of her ass.

  “Anything else?”

  “The changes will be gradual at first. Enhanced agility and strength. Increased sensory perception. Light sensitivity. All minor, but nonetheless superior to a human’s.”

  I remembered the broken faucet in the shower. “Already experiencing that.”

  Zoe nodded, the cascading flow of red hair resembling a flaming waterfall. “As you approach the point of no return, however, you will begin to have…stronger urges.”

  I grimaced. “Sounds appealing.”

  “Not only for flesh, but also to be by your master’s side.”

  “Shit.”

  “With each passing minute, it will be harder to kill Aldric. And after three days, you will never disobey him again.”

  Aldric would finally get his loyal Reaper.

  No more subservience.

  The next words out of my mouth were surprisingly calm. “What can I do?”

  “The only cure for the Reaper’s Sorrow are the fangs of the creature who inflicted the bite. As well as its soul.”

  “I’m going to kill him anyway,” I said. “No problem.”

  “Both the fangs and soul must be harvested while Aldric still breathes to maximize their power.”

  The words slammed into my gut like a pair of brass knuckles. I tried to breathe, but all that I could manage were little gasps.

  “It’s a lot to take in,” Zoe said. “I have seen Reapers kill themselves instead of becoming a servant.”

  “Has anyone cured themselves?”

  “Not in my experience.”

  “Comforting.” My breathing returned to almost normal. “I assume that’s why they call it the Reaper’s Sorrow?”

  “No,” Zoe said, turning to leave, “they call it that because, deep within your soul, you’ll hate everything you do for Aldric. Scream to be released as you are unable to defy any order he gives. Forever chained to his employ in hellish servitude.”

  “Lovely,” I said. “Anything else I should know?”

  “We can kill you, should the need arise.”

  “I’ve got a better plan,” I said, heading for the door. “One where we all get out alive.”

  “And that is?”

  “I’ll let you know when I think of it.”

  34

  Here’s a secret about rock bottom: it’s just the first stop on a long, slow elevator to hell. Never deceive yourself that things can’t get worse.

  They can—and if a ruthless vampire warlord is around, they probably will.

  I had two days left before I belonged to Aldric forever.

  Two little days.

  And I’d have to forge ahead on my own for the time being. Cross was still too weak to offer anything, and both Magnus and Zoe were needed to monitor his recovery.

  Out on the street, I dug into my pockets, extracting the antidote vial. “Maybe this could help.”

  Zoe took it. “This is a powerful antidote, Reaper.”

  “It cures the Scent of Fire.”

  The woman held it up to the moonlight. “I might be able to repurpose it.”

  “Do your best.”

  I parted ways with the fox shifter in front of the fleabag motel, watching her disappear up the moon-bathed street.

  Getting the crew together would have to
wait. Retrieving the Sword of Damocles from its hiding spot—wherever that might be—would be delayed at least another day.

  That left me alone again, lacking a direction in life.

  A couple passed by me on the sidewalk. Hunger rumbled in my stomach, along with a faint longing for blood.

  I forced my gaze away from their necks.

  It was already starting.

  I pulled the demon list from my pocket, staring at the typewritten note. Miesha had to have stolen this from Aldric. But how the vampire had gotten it in the first place remained a mystery.

  Perhaps he had struck a deal with Loki.

  That thought filled me with existential dread.

  I thumbed through the phone. Rayna and Kai were also working the case—working to cover up the truth.

  That left one person to call.

  The one person I’d promised to keep safe.

  But it seemed, given the spiraling circumstances, there was no other choice.

  A half hour later, Sierra pulled up in her Mercedes. The truck was still parked on the service road, irretrievable for obvious reasons.

  “I shouldn’t have left you, E.” My sister touched the bite marks on my neck as I slid into the sedan.

  I squirmed. They were still sensitive to touch.

  “What, so you could’ve gotten your own matching set?” I cracked a smile, even though I felt empty inside. Whatever scattered plan we had, the vampire now had no goddess to keep him in check.

  Worse, Aldric had her soul.

  Sierra pulled out and started driving. “Khan survived. He was a big baby, though.”

  “Figures.”

  Sierra stole glances at my pale skin. “I just feel so helpless.”

  “Join the club.”

  “I don’t like it.”

  “No one does. That’s why we all fight against the void.”

  “Whoa. Deep.”

  I’d been feeling a little bit more philosophical since waking up in that parking lot. Imminent death—or, rather, an endlessly hellacious life—has a way of putting things in perspective.

  Or making you ruminate on existential nonsense. “We need to figure out Miesha’s next target.”

  “Miesha?” Then recognition flashed in Sierra’s big blue eyes. “Oooh. Crazy demon hunter.” She made a right turn. “I don’t know, E, aren’t there more…you know, pressing concerns?”

  “We’ve got to wait for Cross to recover. Otherwise there’s no team to retrieve the sword.”

  “Is he going to be all right?” She puckered her pink lips.

  “I’m pretty sure that asshole is unkillable.”

  But Sierra looked worried. She glanced at the list as I held it out. “That’s a lot of names, E.”

  She was right.

  We’d have to cut down the search grid to the most likely candidate.

  I recognized a couple names, but none of them stood out as especially dangerous. I rustled the paper in my fingertips.

  “I know one way we can narrow the field.”

  “How?”

  “Tamara Marquez.” I drummed my fingers on the dash. “But she wants something in return.”

  “What?” Sierra asked.

  “I don’t know.” I stared at the city passing by the window. “What do you give a woman who just lost her only possession?”

  “Money,” Sierra said. When I glanced over her, she looked sheepish and added, “What?”

  “You’re a goddamn genius.” I pulled out the phone, and, after a series of text messages, got Tamara’s number back.

  The Soul Eater picked up with a gruff, “Who’s this?”

  “How would you like to make three million dollars.”

  “Is this the Reaper speaking?”

  “All it will cost you is that lifeline.”

  She said, “I’d have to see the cash.”

  “You retrieve it from the jungle, it’s all yours.”

  “And why is retrieval necessary?”

  “Complications with Aldric,” I said.

  “I’m hanging up.”

  Damn trust issues.

  “Wait.” I practically yelled into the phone. “Think about it. You can leave this island. Be free of it.”

  “I work for Loki. There’s no freedom.”

  “You help me, maybe I help with that problem.”

  “I have lived too long to be sweet-talked,” Tamara replied. “Goodbye, Reaper.”

  “What if I helped you get the cash? Together.”

  “Three million?”

  “Cash, gold, and bearer bonds,” I replied, trying to sell it hard. Never in the history of humanity had someone been so reticent to take a huge windfall.

  No wonder all she’d had was that crappy strip club. After Cross, she’d never trust anything again.

  “Time and place, Reaper.”

  “Now. A mile from my villa.”

  There was a pause. “If Loki does not release his hooks from me, I will come for you before I die.”

  “Duly noted,” I said.

  “See you soon, Reaper.”

  “Can’t wait.”

  35

  “I see no treasure.” Tamara tapped the rifle against the side of the Mercedes impatiently. Her dominatrix-esque leather outfit gleamed in the moonlight.

  “What about retrieval is it you don’t understand?” I rolled my eyes. “Unless you want to be a god’s bitch for the rest of your life, I suggest you listen.”

  The two sigils gracing her bare navel glowed.

  “That doesn’t mean I will be reckless.” Her full lips puckered into a scowl. “How many of Aldric’s men are watching?”

  She had four-hundred years of trust issues—and she wasn’t about to start turning over a new leaf now. Even with freedom at her fingertips.

  “No idea.”

  Tamara brushed her short black hair back. “Is there really three million dollars?”

  “She’s good for it.” Sierra stepped up to vouch for me. “Only question is, are you?”

  “I’m not a liar.”

  “Prove it,” Sierra said. “Give us the number.”

  “Not before I have the money.”

  “How do we know it’s even useful?” My sister was giving Tamara the full-court press.

  “Because it’s Loki’s main contact on the island.” Tamara scratched her cheek. “Well, the one who’s left. The other two died.”

  “So the position of arch-archdemon has a chain of succession,” I said.

  “In so many words, yes.”

  If I was a betting girl—and I was—that was exactly the type of demon Miesha would go after next. Cut the head off the snake.

  More like a hydra, considering the position kept being passed down. But maybe the demons would eventually grow tired of being killed and head elsewhere.

  That struck me as wishful thinking. She’d probably have to kill them all, one by one.

  But that didn’t matter. All I needed was her next target.

  I said, “Okay, here’s the deal. You two are going to cause a distraction while I dig up the cash.”

  “What kind of distraction?”

  I grinned and said, “I hope you haven’t gotten too attached to that truck.”

  36

  I was running through the jungle when the fireball shot through the sky, bathing the treetops in a molten amber glow. Shouts erupted across the jungle, accompanied by the sound of frightened wildlife.

  A minute later, another plume of flame erupted into the night.

  Guess they’d decided to torch Cross’s Porsche for good measure.

  In the darkness, it was hard to tell how close I was to the stash. I slowed down, peering at the passing trees, looking for the mark.

  The jungle thinned up ahead, revealing fragmented glimpses of the ocean. The heavy scent of burnt timber drifted on the breeze.

  I was close to the villa.

  That meant I was in the right spot.

  Unable to find the right tree, however, I had t
o channel the lantern sigil on my wrist. A purple ball of light glowed from my fingertips, casting a supernatural violet glow over the bark.

  I passed a thicket of firethorn bushes. The light flashed over a scarred tree.

  “Jackpot.” I dropped to my knees and started digging with my other hand. Before long, my fingernails scraped against the stainless steel box buried in the turf.

  I dug faster until a rifle cocked and a voice said, “Hold it right there.”

  “It’s me,” I said. “Eden. I live here.”

  “I know. Stand up.”

  “I’m not doing anything.”

  “Besides blowing up cars.”

  I didn’t move from the ground. “That wasn’t me.”

  “I told you to stand up. Slow.”

  The ball of light flickered in my hand. “I just came back to see if anything survived the fire.”

  His rifle light flashed over the ground, glinting off the steel box. “What do you have there?”

  “Just some old photos.”

  “Looks like a rainy day fund to me.” Greed nipped at the edges of his voice. “Why don’t you back away?”

  “Why don’t you make me?” I spun and hurled the light at his face.

  The rifle fired into the trees, splintering a branch.

  I sprinted forward, headed straight for him.

  Aldric’s soldier blinked, trying to recover from the light. “You little—”

  I hit him center mass, and we tumbled into the brush. We struggled on the ground, and he gained the upper hand.

  He jammed the rifle stock against my neck. “I’m gonna take your little stash and bury you out here.”

  “No…you…won’t.” I grabbed his combat knife from his sheath.

  His eyes flashed with surprise.

  From their intel reports, I wasn’t supposed to be able to do that.

  But the goddess’s trials had vanished with her death. And now, I could wield weapons again.

  I plunged the long blade deep into his thigh.

  He screamed, rolling off my chest.

  I scrambled back to the hole, the jungle now thick with rustling footsteps. Tearing at the ground like a woman possessed, I managed to free the steel box.

  I leapt over the wounded man as I sprinted back to the sedan.