Soulless (Maiden of Time Book 2)

by Crystal Collier

  Twenty-Four

  Bread Crumbs

  How Lester did it, Miles would never know.

  He nodded to the old man in the crimson light. With the elder’s speed and bizarre foresight, they had discovered the cave far faster than he’d thought possible. His palms were damp from the anticipation of entering the Soulless consciousness. He’d had glimpses: the call of people claiming to be his parents, the recognition of a hundred hive-mind creatures who mimicked that fondness for him and lusted after both his health and his reunion with them...

  Miles shook the thoughts away. Tracks scattered dirt in front of the cave entrance, eleven sizes and weights, all aimed in different directions.

  Lester stepped into each scuffle pattern of steps, gauging height and speed from the lengths—something Miles only knew because the elder had educated him.

  He liked the runner, how easily he kept everyone out of his head. There were so few people who could. It was a relief to not be overwhelmed by his companion’s thoughts and emotions. Even though he’d developed a means to block out most distractions, there were just some instances where he got sucked in.

  Like Alexia.

  “These be the ones what were carryin’ more than their own hides.” The old man traced five separate paths with the stick clasped in his hand. Glancing at the sky, he grunted.

  Miles leaned back, crossing his arms. “You mean to run them all down and figure out which one has the medallion?”

  Lester grinned a toothy grin and tapped his head, then pointed at Miles. “You’ll be the one what does the askin’.”

  He groaned, trying to ignore the chill of mist across his skin, the living kind that whispered in his head as it passed. He expected Ethel’s thoughts, but suppressed rage smacked him like a tidal wave.

  “Lester—”

  The old man lifted a hand in a shushing gesture, crouched forward, and stepped gingerly into the darkness of the cave. Miles glanced warily at the sky before following. He didn’t like this.

  A desperate hiss refracted off cave walls, startling him. How had he not heard it before? He squinted into the pitch, then closed his eyes. Reaching out mentally, he stepped in and sent his mind spinning toward any consciousness present.

  A bug. The cave wall beneath him clung to his six feet. Large shadows blotted out the light. He tasted the air with his antenna, scenting sweat and anticipation.

  Miles abandoned the crawler and skimmed further.

  No light. Agony! Acid slithered through her veins, tearing at her inner organs. Every muscle tensed, frozen in blazing pain. She was going to burst!

  Ripping himself from the sufferer’s mind, he landed on his knees, gasping.

  Lester’s grip rounded his arm. “What is it?”

  Miles stumbled to his feet. “Hurry.”

  They groped into the darkness, halting when raspy breaths filled their ears. Miles hesitated and reached out mentally, brushing just over the edge of her misery. He staggered under the distraction of her agony, grabbing her around the waist and lifting the girl off the cave floor, toward the cave exit and remaining day.

  Sunset caught her hair, painting it pink. Her fingers grappled inwardly, crooked and tense. Glittering metal ringed her wrists—a thin gold chain.

  He set her down on the ground outside the cave and her knees crumpled. He caught her and laid her down. Wrapping the edge of his sleeve over his fingers, he tore the links free. They bounced in all directions, refracting sunlight as they spun away.

  Bellezza’s little body collapsed, panting slowing, eyes drooping.

  Why hadn’t he felt her sooner? That kind of desperation should have smacked him over the head and dragged him into the darkness. But she had a way about her, a hush, all of her pain coiled so tightly inside.

  It was swimming around him, swimming through hazy images of night skies, screaming, running, the bitterness of desperation, despair...

  Blinking his vision straight, he startled at the sweat doused curls beneath his fingers as he finished smoothing them back from her face. Had she heard him through her misery and somehow mustered enough strength to call upon even a fraction of her gift?

  Her eyes fluttered open, the chocolate swirls so innocent and vulnerable. He wanted to ask if she was all right, but the question would anger her. She wanted pity from no one.

  With a smirk, he nodded.

  Her lip twitched.

  Curling his fingers into her hair, he delved into her mind.

  Little sparkles glittered on the outskirts of her consciousness, quickly snuffed out. Blackness bubbled up, obscuring everything in inky rage. A grinning skull emerged from the pitch, beads of vibrant scarlet for eyes. Bellezza laughed inwardly as she imagined gouging out each eye with an iron dagger and then tearing his smiling head clean off. And she would.

  As soon as she could lift her arms.

  A deep chuckle startled her. A luscious sound. She forced her eyes open and stared into gray eyes, instantly aware of his touch at the back of her head.

  Bellezza jerked free.

  Miles jumped out of her head.

  “Stay out,” she mouthed.

  He nodded and rose.

  Lester uncrossed his arms and approached. “And?”

  “The Soulless,” Miles muttered.

  The old man waved for him to continue.

  Miles turned. “Bellezza?”

  She rolled her eyes. “They were lucky enough to capture me,” her whisper was hoarse, tremors shaking through her thin frame. “They found out about the wedding. Attacked. Left me to die.”

  Lester grunted, disbelief clear from his shaking head. “Here’s what I think happened. You made an accord with them what exacts yer whims, and they turned on you.”

  She bit down, nose crinkling. Her rage permeated through Miles like a dense, overly-sweet smoke.

  “Kin you tell us anything more?”

  She rested on her side, quiet. Miles was ready to dive back in when she spat, “The one they call Joseph—he had the weapon.”

  Miles knelt next to her. “Which direction did he travel?”

  She pulled in a long breath, her chest rising. “Oxford.”

  He met stares with Lester. The old man nodded. “We’ll go after we retrieve the Master.”

  The Master. Miles pulled a hand through his hair. “What about her?”

  Lester’s head shook, voice lowering. “Ripe lot of lies. Coddle her and she’ll bite yer hand off.” And Lester would know.

  Miles sighed.

  “Ye’d be best t’ put her back where you found her, gold ’n’ all.”

  Miles knew the two had some history, but he’d never heard the old man so insensitive with anyone. “You can’t be serious.”

  “We haven’t the time or manpower to punish her proper. Set that chain ’bout her and I’ll send Ethel to fetch the wily nixie.”

  Twenty-Five

  Soulless

  “Alexia?” Sarah covered her mouth.

  Alexia clung to the table. Her aunt’s voice, like the flow of honey over glass paper, had not changed. The relief-joy-terror in her aunt’s single pronouncement summoned her like the siren call of fresh baked bread. Moisture pooled in Alexia’s eyes, but she could not move under the power of that crimson stare. She remembered a night—had it only been a month ago?—when similar eyes encircled her with promises of love and fulfillment, their appetites bubbling below the surface.

  Alexia’s cheeks were wet. “You are alive.”

  “You are alive!”

  “Of course I am alive.” Alexia blinked, confused.

  Sarah deflated to her knees, knuckles white against her clamped fists. “You are injured?”

  Alexia glanced down at the stains, now almost black in the firelight. “I am not harmed.”

  Sarah covered her nose with the corner of her cloak, looking away. “How did you find me?”

  The pressure holding Alexia immobile vanished, hairs on her arms standing at full length. “I found you?”

&
nbsp; Crimson pupils turned back on her. Alexia’s heart halted, then resumed with a tremor.

  “Did you not?” Sarah asked, her brows puckered.

  Alexia hesitated. Her aunt belonged to the opposing force. Even now she could see the restraint in Sarah’s every effort, and anything Alexia said would be used against her once the her aunt joined with the collective consciousness of the Soulless.

  Her teeth clamped. “John did this to you.”

  Sarah’s head shook. “I did this to me.”

  Her aunt had had no comprehension, no warning about the persuasive powers of the Soulless previous to her association. It could have been prevented, all of it!

  “John will pay.” Alexia couldn’t hide the loathing his name inspired.

  “No, Alexia, he is my—”

  “Husband. I know.”

  Sarah nodded. “And he is good to me. He did not want this, but circumstances—” Her eyes darkened and Alexia could almost hear her unuttered curse against Bellezza. “—determined otherwise.”

  “Is good to you? You call this good?” She motioned to her near-sister’s tensed frame.

  That scarlet gaze paralyzed Alexia, but not in fury. In empathy?

  “Oh, Alexia. John said they would hunt you, that they would kill you, that I...” Her head bowed in shame.

  “Where is John?”

  “Not here.”

  “Then where?”

  “Searching for you.”

  Alexia swallowed. “Why would he be searching for me?”

  Sarah slid the tiniest bit closer. A tremor rattled through Alexia. “He wants you safe,” her aunt whispered.

  “No, he wants me dead.”

  Sarah’s locks shook. “He fights too. Lexy, he has told me things... I do not know how much I believe, but there is more to this than simply a war between the Soulless and Passionate. There are factions, there are plots and schemes and,” her eyes grew wide, “so many of them circle about you.”

  Cold air threatened to close off her passageways. “Because I will one day marry the leader of the Passionate?”

  Sarah blinked and clasped her hands together as though she wished to congratulate her niece. Her face fell, head bowing. “Because you can...can change time.”

  The intensity in Sarah’s stare communicated a wish she didn’t appear bold enough to state, and yet to watch her near-sister hesitate took Alexia off balance. Thank goodness for the solid seat beneath her. Her aunt wanted her to fix things, to go back, to stop it from happening. Oh that she could! “I cannot change the past.”

  Sarah’s eyes closed. “John said you could. That is what they believe—the others, the Soulless who rule m-my kind.”

  Alexia leaned closer. “There are rulers?”

  “Groups, Lexy. Factions. Some are good, some are bad. They are all looking for solutions, or power, or ways to fulfill their...lusts.” Her focus remained fixed on the floor. “The strongest hierarchy has hired mercenaries and promised favors and power to any who can bring you to them.”

  “Because they think I can change time?” she suggested incredulously.

  “Perhaps. Maybe that is simply what they wish us to believe. They may only wish for you as leverage over—” she scowled, “—Arik.”

  Alexia frowned. The alias was one Kiren had allowed Sarah to use for him, and her aunt had adored him, even expressed hopes of marriage.

  “It is not his name,” Sarah spat. “It is simply one he gives to persons like me.”

  Alexia twisted her fingers over her skirt.

  “You are not surprised?” Sarah’s lip drew upward.

  Alexia sat back. Her aunt moved forward in the same instant. Alexia nearly fell out of her chair.

  “Do not!” Sarah squealed and grabbed at her ears, face squeezed in intense concentration. “Do not pull away. Do not run from me! I will give chase, whether I wish to or not. I cannot stave the instinct!”

  Alexia froze.

  Her aunt retreated a couple steps, hissing as she went. A strange rattling echoed through the chamber. Sarah’s crimson stare burrowed into Alexia. “He is not who he says he is, and I am not convinced he is entirely good.” A rasp filled her tone with fire.

  Did this come as a result of her Soulless state or true wrath? “I love him, Sarah.”

  “Please, Alexia, nothing is quite what it seems!” She closed the distance.

  Alexia held still—terrified to run and draw her aunt after. Uncomfortably warm fingers seized her shoulders, severe pupils consuming the whole of her attention. “He took your memories. He took mine. He has deceived us both, and how many others, I cannot say.” Sarah’s grip tightened. “Trust only yourself. Be so careful!”

  A wild shudder ran through them both. The fire dimmed. Sarah pulled away, backing out the doorway, fierce belief in her terrified expression. She whirled and escaped.

  The room warmed. Flames leapt to life.

  The dog cowering under Alexia’s chair emerged. Her knuckles turned from white to pink and the chill slowly dissolved from her bones—except the one Sarah’s words had left.

  Kiren had taken her memories when she was a child because she’d been terrified from a Soulless encounter. Father had begged him to do it, and he’d complied out of a sense of mercy. How much more had he taken, and would she ever know for sure unless she dug the memories out of his mind?

  She shivered. Why else would he fear her diving into his past, if not for some memory he feared she might recover?

  Alexia twisted her ring. Did she trust Sarah? Could she afford to believe her, or had this been a play, an attempt by the Soulless to weaken and confuse her—as Kiren had counseled they would? But even he had warned her against trusting him entirely. If she couldn’t recall her past, she couldn’t recall it and there was nothing she could do about it.

  Or was there?

  “Dana...” Her mother waited in the absence of time, a dimension without physical limits, and surely she had seen all.

  Hinges creaked. Kiren knelt suddenly at her side. “You are pale, dearest.” He took her hands.

  She cringed. How could he bear to kneel so near, to stare openly into her eyes or pledge his love when he was hiding things—more stolen pieces of her? She turned her gaze to the dog, wishing the animal would move and validate her change of focus.

  “Alexia, no one can hurt you here.”

  She bit down. “You intend to leave me here, do you not?”

  “Love—”

  Mae stepped into the room, carrying a steaming bowl and wedge of bread. “Hope I am not disturbing a lover’s conference.”

  Alexia flinched. How did Mae know about them—a woman she had only barely met, one who had been too distant to possibly hear about the wedding?

  Mae placed the food on the table before Alexia, turning to Kiren. “And now I will see to that horse.”

  He rose and slipped a pouch into her hand. “Fed, watered, and ready to rest in your care. Take care of my Alexia?”

  Alexia huffed.

  “You doubt me?” Mae placed a fist on her hip.

  A grin spread across his face. “Never.”

  The woman’s brow pleated. “I suppose there will be no convincing you to rest the night?”

  He grunted.

  She lifted both hands in surrender. “Not my place to tell you what a fool’s move it is to travel on a moonless night, but you protect that neck of yours. I know someone who will be a might bit troubled if something should happen to it.” She winked Alexia’s direction and turned to climb the stairs.

  Alexia picked up her spoon and prodded at her stew. “She is right, on all accounts.”

  He scowled. “Eat your dinner.”

  She ate, conscientious of Kiren’s dulled visage, and yet breathless for how close he sat—as if he needed to monitor her every bite to be certain she obeyed. She had but to shift and her hip pressed against his. She forced herself not to look up for fear his adoration would freeze her appetite, and that he might apprehend the curious mutinies
she’d stowed to debate.

  His fingers drummed across the table. “This building and the yard to the rear are protected, but move beyond the line of blossoms and you leave safety.”

  “You marked the space?”

  A smile quirked his cheek.

  “Then why is it you did not bring me here to marry me—if it is safe?”

  He sat back and pulled both hands through his hair, gripping his ginger waves and sighing through clenched teeth. “A proper wedding in a proper church, is that too much to hope for?”

  She reached up and caught his hand, laying it tenderly between hers. “You are not going without me.”

  “I will not have this argument.” His fist slammed into the table. She jumped. “Our offensive will be hard and fast. You are not able to travel as I do, and I cannot be worried for your safety.”

  “Yet I am not afforded the same courtesy?” She glared back, angry. “And what will you do if they discover I am here?” She waved toward the door. “What if they drag me away—beyond the safety of these borders?”

  “I will not be gone long.”

  “Sarah is here.”

  His jaw clenched. “Where?”

  She couldn’t meet his stare. “I do not know, but I saw her.” She curled both hands in her lap, too angry to touch or be touched by him. “Do not leave tonight.”

  The hunger in his world-consuming gaze stole her breath. She wanted to throw free all barriers and embed herself in his starry sky—who cared the consequences!

  He leapt back from her, rising. “I must go, and quickly. We can only track the Soulless during moonless evenings.” His frown spoke of a deeper depression he’d been concealing—or perhaps one she perceived only because of his diminished glow. A sigh rattled out of him. “Your room is ready.”

  Mae emerged from the upper hall, bracing against the white-washed wall for guidance. “I lit the tapers and turned the sheets back. I will be around to gather you, once I have water boiled for a bath.”

  Alexia took Kiren’s offered arm, glancing worriedly at the windows. Was Sarah watching? Did she know about his amulet’s absence? And if so, would her aunt attack him the instant he left safety?