Soul Chase (Dark Souls)

by Anne Hope

  “Then who?”

  “That’s the thing.” He waved his hand in frustration. “No one knows. Not even the Watchers.”

  “The Watchers, as in your father.” She was definitely getting a handle on this. “How did a Watcher come to mate with a Kleptopsych? Aren’t they like sworn enemies?”

  “Marcus wasn’t always a Watcher. Things were different two centuries ago. Some Hybrids actually lived among the Kleptopsychs. My father was one of them.”

  A headache began to pound behind her eyes. Every time he answered one of her questions, a new one sprouted to take its place. “Why’d he leave?”

  He shrugged, took a bite of his eggs. “Can’t say for sure,” he muttered, “but it may have had something to do with my uncle murdering me a few hours after I was born.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “He murdered you?” Emma watched him, owl-eyed. “Your own uncle murdered you?”

  Bitter amusement tugged at Adrian’s mouth. “Our definition of family isn’t exactly the same as yours.” How could he make her understand how emotionless the Kleptopsychs were? They were cold-blooded killing machines, tempered only by ruthless intellect and driven by greed.

  “Nor is our definition of death. Kyros knew I’d be reborn. He believed that—once he separated me from my soul—he’d have the perfect soldier, a tracker without a conscience.” He poured himself a glass of orange juice, studying her face for a reaction.

  She’d heard all this before, in her past incarnation. Did his words spark a glimmer of recollection within her? He could’ve sworn the crease that formed between her brows was a sign that it did. Then again, it could just be his desperation talking.

  “Thankfully, my uncle failed to ingest my soul.” He drank deeply, hoping to wash the sour taste from his mouth. “Otherwise, I’d be as merciless and depraved as the Kleptopsychs.”

  She’d stopped eating in favor of playing with her food. “What happened to your soul?”

  Ah, the question he’d been both anticipating and dreading. “It has been reborn, several times since.” Last time he’d had this conversation with Angie, she’d figured how they were connected, that her soul had once belonged to him. Would Emma reach the same conclusion?

  “Reborn? Who has it now?” Her voice shook slightly. Maybe a part of her had already intuited the truth.

  A loud banging on the door interrupted them. Emma stood and went to drop her plate in the sink. “It must be Eddie,” she told him. “He promised to give me some more lessons this morning.”

  Adrian stood and went to answer the door, where Eddie waited, dressed in army green, a smile splitting his face.

  “Good, you’re up.” The Rogue lumbered into the house, a shotgun propped at his side. “Is Emma ready?”

  Adrian eyed the rifle warily. “Ready for what?” He took in the sight of Eddie’s fatigues and brown hiking boots. “Halloween?”

  “No, idiot.” The cop’s grin widened, and he gave him a friendly whack on the back. “Boot camp.”

  Emma wiped the sweat from her brow, bending over to grip her knees, her breath coming hard and fast. A bright afternoon sun beat down on her, heating the back of her neck, despite the tall mesh of trees that fought to block out the sky.

  Eddie had worked her to the point of exhaustion, and he showed no signs of relenting. “Come on, princess. Shake the mud off those glass slippers and get back to work.”

  She shot daggers at him with her eyes. “I need a minute. Unlike you, I’m human.” Sort of. She might be invulnerable to illness and injury but not to fatigue.

  “Give it a rest, Eddie. She’s had enough.” Adrian gripped her by the shoulder. “Are you all right?”

  Eddie didn’t give her a chance to answer. “Stop babying her. She’s tougher than she looks.” He tossed the rifle at her, forcing her to straighten up and catch it.

  “Time for some shooting practice.” Her original assessment had been right on the money. The man was evil. What had ever possessed her to ask him to train her in the arts of combat?

  The rifle felt slick in her hands, cold and menacing. “I don’t even know how to use this thing.”

  “This is a Remington semiautomatic,” Adrian told her. “One of the fastest guns out there.”

  How did he know about guns?

  “A semiautomatic has a closed-bolt firing system,” Eddie pitched in, taking the weapon from her. “That means you have to put a round in the chamber manually before you can fire a shot.” He demonstrated as he spoke. “Once you pull the trigger and the weapon fires, the bolt will load a new cartridge from the magazine into the chamber, and you’re ready to go another round.”

  The cop flashed a broad grin. “All set. Now all you gotta do is pull the trigger and shoot.”

  She scanned her surroundings. “Shoot what?” There was nothing around but rocks and trees.

  Eddie spread out his arms. “Us.”

  Emma gaped at him stupidly. Had she heard correctly? Did he really expect her to shoot him, shoot Adrian?

  “You’re pretty good at hitting a stationary target,” Eddie explained. “But a moving target is a lot harder to strike. And I can guarantee the Kleptopsychs won’t be standing still when they attack.”

  Emma stared at the rifle with the smooth walnut finish and the black steel barrel. “Won’t it hurt?”

  Without bothering to reply, Eddie aimed the gun at Adrian and shot him, point-blank, in the chest. Emma screamed as the rifle roared to life. The bullet tore a vicious strip through Adrian’s clothing, but no blood soaked the fabric.

  Adrian stared down at the damage, annoyed. “Great. There goes another jacket. You should’ve warned me,” he told Eddie. “I would’ve dressed for the occasion.”

  Emma’s reality shifted, and for a second she had a vision of Adrian running his thumb over smooth leather. Yellow lights flickered overhead, and the distant grumble of a train echoed through the subway station. “Damn shame. I love this jacket.”

  “Bulletproof vest,” she murmured.

  Adrian leaned over to hear what she whispered. “Sorry?”

  “Bulletproof vest,” she repeated. “You never leave home without it.”

  Her words accomplished what the bullet had failed to do. The blood drained from his face, and crippling pain contorted his features.

  Eddie’s gaze flitted from her to Adrian. “What is it? What’d I miss?”

  Adrian turned away from them and began trekking back toward the house. “I’m done for the day. Feel free to continue without me.”

  Emma watched him disappear through the thick bramble of trees, wondering what she’d said wrong. “What’s up with him?” she asked Eddie.

  The cop looked as stumped as she was. “No idea. He hasn’t been himself lately. Probably the stress of—” He trailed off, but Emma guessed what he’d been about to say.

  “Of harboring me?”

  Eddie remained silent. He didn’t want to state the obvious—that her presence here was a strain on them all, that every moment she spent on this ranch threatened to disrupt their peaceful community.

  “You can be honest with me,” she told him. “I know you’re not happy I’m here. I can feel it.”

  “It’s not that I’m not happy.” He met her gaze square on. “I’m scared. Scared what’ll happen to this place when the Kleptopsychs come looking for you. And they will. It’s just a matter of time.”

  “As soon as I find my mother,” she reassured him, “I’ll leave. I give you my word.”

  Doubt thinned his mouth. There was something he wasn’t telling her. She could see it in the stubborn set of his jaw. “We seem to have gotten off track. Let’s stop wasting time on useless chitchat and get back to the business of teaching you how to shoot.” He handed her the rifle.

  Emma wrapped her fingers around the cold metal and took the weapon from him. “If I’m such a nuisance, why are you helping me?”

  “Because the better able you are to defend yourself the less likely you are to
get Adrian killed.”

  She couldn’t fault the logic in that. “Fine. Go ahead. Attack me. Pretend you’re a Kleptopsych or a Watcher.”

  He grew unnaturally still. “Why would the Watchers come after you? They’re not in the habit of hunting humans.”

  Too late she realized her slip. She’d promised Adrian she wouldn’t share what he’d told her about the Watchers with anyone, including Eddie. So she performed a quick save. “Well, how was I supposed to know that?”

  He used his cop’s gaze on her, studying her, urging her to confess all with his intimidating stare. She thanked the heavens she wasn’t susceptible to the hypnotic power his kind had over humans. If she was, she would’ve spilled the beans, right here, right now.

  “What are you waiting for?” She raised the rifle and aimed it at him, daring him to make a move.

  Eddie scrutinized her for an unnervingly long time. Then he lunged with a speed that surprised her given his size. Without hesitating, she jerked back and compressed the trigger.

  The bullet hit its mark, striking him in the gut. Emma smiled.

  Back at the townhouse, Adrian slouched on the corner of his bed. In his hands, he gripped the bomber jacket he’d been wearing the day he’d met Angie. With soft, fluid strokes, he ran his finger over the jagged hole the bullet had carved in the soft leather.

  Some thug had shot him at close range in the chest that night, and Angie had witnessed it. When she’d asked him why he was still standing, he’d uttered the very words Emma had spoken out in the woods today.

  “Bulletproof vest. I never leave home without it.”

  He closed his eyes, his fingers digging into the aged leather. Was he reading too much into this, or was she starting to remember? The thought should’ve thrilled him, but he couldn’t get past the pain long enough to rejoice. Everything about Emma reminded him of Angie, of what he’d had and what he’d lost.

  He wanted it back, wanted her back.

  The fist in his throat tightened. He’d never realized how brutal hope could be, more devastating than despair.

  The front door opened, and he hastened to bury the jacket back in the antique oak trunk he kept at the foot of his bed. He couldn’t allow Emma to see it. Not yet.

  He descended the steps and met her in the foyer. “Looks like Eddie finally took pity on you.” He kept his tone light, hoping to downplay his violent reaction earlier.

  He shouldn’t have stormed off that way, but he hadn’t known what else to do. He’d feared if he’d stayed, his emotions would’ve gotten the better of him, and he would’ve revealed more than she was ready to hear.

  She gave him a weak smile. “I have to confess, shooting him was a lot more fun than I expected.”

  An uncomfortable pause followed. Emma watched him silently, her curious gaze struggling to read him. “Why’d you leave like that? Did it hurt when Eddie shot you?”

  The bullet had barely stung. Her words, however, had pierced straight through his heart. “No. I— There was something I remembered I had to do.”

  She wasn’t buying it. He could tell by the flicker of doubt that crossed her face.

  She walked past him to the living room. The tension hovering between them was thick enough to slice. “You’re sure it wasn’t what I said?”

  His automatic response was to play dumb. “What was that?”

  A frown tugged at her brows and mouth. She inhaled a sharp breath, then shook her head as though to clear it. “Nothing. Forget it.” Pacing before the hearth, she angled her face away from him. “Eddie got a call about that APB.”

  Adrian pounced on the opportunity to change the subject. “And?”

  “And nothing. The car was abandoned a few miles past the Nevada border. We’re back to square one.”

  “I’m sure Eddie will come up with another lead soon.”

  Her fists clenched at her sides, her frustration palpable. “I don’t think I can wait much longer.”

  “You don’t have a choice.”

  She stopped stalking the room and turned to look at him. “I get that I need to be careful. You’ve made that abundantly clear. But this is my mother we’re talking about.” Her composure ruptured, revealing the depths of her grief and worry. “I’m all she’s got. If I don’t go after her, who will?”

  He walked up to her and gripped her shoulders. “I will.”

  “Why?” Incredulity laced her tone. “Why would you risk that for me? Who am I to you?”

  If ever there was a loaded question, it was that one. How the hell was he supposed to answer it without revealing the true extent of his feelings for her? “I don’t want to see the world end. Isn’t that motive enough?”

  She searched his face for a sign that he was lying. “I guess,” she said, but skepticism still lined her forehead. “I just don’t understand.” She hesitated, struggling to put her thoughts into words. “I don’t understand why you’re being so good to me, why you’ve brought me here despite the very real risk the Kleptopsychs will follow me, why I keep getting this feeling that I know you from somewhere—” Her gaze flitted away, and she stopped midsentence.

  But Adrian had heard all he needed to hear. “You know me?” Cruel, frail hope expanded within him again.

  “I don’t know you. I just get the feeling that I do.” She took a few steadying breaths. “This is going to sound bat-shit crazy, but I keep having these dreams—these visions—and you’re sort of in them. I don’t actually see you, well I didn’t used to see you, but last night I did—” She sighed. “I’m doing a really crappy job explaining this, aren’t I?”

  “No.” He seized her chin, slanting it upward and forcing her to glance at him. “I understand what you’re saying perfectly.”

  “Then please explain it to me, because I don’t have a clue what’s going on.”

  He wanted to—God, how he wanted to—but the words wouldn’t come. Deep in his gut dwelled the blistering fear that he’d scare her away if he revealed too much too soon. So he did the only thing he could think of.

  He kissed her.

  This kiss was different from the ones they’d shared yesterday, soft and tender and laced with affection. With this kiss he told her everything she needed to know, everything that was in his heart.

  When he pulled away, she clutched his shirt for support, breathing hard. “See, there you go, confusing me again.” Moisture gleamed in her eyes. “Kissing me like I matter to you.”

  There were certain things a man couldn’t conceal, even if he wanted to. “You do matter to me.”

  “Why? You don’t even know me.”

  “You’re wrong.” The words blasted out of him before he could stop them. “I know you better than you know yourself.” He bracketed her face with his palms. “I know how brave you are, how strong. I know to what lengths you’ll go for something you believe in. I know your heart, your soul.” Stop, now. Don’t say another word. “I know it as intimately as I know my own.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Emma stiffened and slid out of Adrian’s embrace. It took a few seconds for his words to register, and when they did, the truth crashed over her. “It’s me, isn’t it? I’m the one who has your old soul.”

  He didn’t reply, but he didn’t have to. She saw all she needed to see in his sizzling gaze.

  She cursed herself for not having figured it out sooner. Hadn’t he dropped enough hints? All the times he’d said they were connected but stopped short of explaining how. The identical birthmarks they bore. The references to his lost soul. The dreams she’d been having about him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I wasn’t sure how you’d react. If you’d even believe me.”

  She looked at him, her eyebrows raised in incredulity. “Oh, I don’t know. I’ve learned all about the offspring of fallen angels, who by the way have psychic abilities, can scale a building in no time and like to snack on souls. I think I could wrap my brain around a little concept like reincarnation.”

  Was that a smile fli
rting with his mouth? It had to be, because there was that dimple again.

  Something he’d said earlier nagged at her brain. Something about him being no better than the Kleptopsychs if his uncle had succeeded in ingesting his soul. “So what happens to you if the Kleptopsychs get their hands on my soul? Do you lose your conscience, turn evil?”

  “It all depends what they do with it. If they destroy it or if the connection is somehow broken, then yes.”

  No wonder he was so determined to keep her away from them. “What about the Watchers. What if they get it?”

  “They’ll probably use it to obliterate my kind.” His matter-of-fact tone belied the gravity of his words.

  “So either way, you’re screwed.”

  He shrugged. “Sure looks like it.”

  She couldn’t allow that to happen, couldn’t let him lose himself. It wasn’t just about her anymore. It was about her mother, Adrian, hell, the entire human race. Running and hiding like a frightened mouse was no longer an option. She had to fight back, beat the Kleptopsychs at their own game.

  “There’s only one solution. We have to find the Kleptopsychs’ new leader and put an end to this, before the Watchers figure out that you’ve been hiding me here.”

  His eyes flashed to hers. “And how do you propose we do that?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” A plan began to take shape in her mind. “By giving them exactly what they want. Me.”

  Night rolled in, drenching the townhouse in pale, gray light, and Adrian still refused to listen to Emma’s plan. He’d cut her off, told her to forget about it, then left her alone to sulk.

  She wasn’t stupid. She knew what she proposed was risky, but it was also the best chance they had to learn what they needed to know about the Kleptopsychs’ new leader. If they captured one of the creatures who pursued her, they could find out who was pulling the strings, where their operation was located, and where they were holding her mom.

  It was too good an opportunity to pass up.

  She found Adrian standing on the back porch, watching the moon paint hazy shapes around the distant mountains. “I know you’re avoiding me,” she told him. “But please listen to what I have to say.”