Soul Deep: Dark Souls, Book 2

by Anne Hope

  A smile ghosted over Marcus’s sensual mouth. “Don’t you think it’s about time you and I started getting along?”

  Jace’s lips twitched, but he fought not to return Marcus’s smile. “Nah. That would ruin all the fun.” He stomped out of the room, shutting the door behind him, leaving Regan alone with the one man who had the power to both save her soul and shatter her heart.

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  She stood in his room, draped in cotton and sunlight, her hair the color of a newly polished penny. There weren’t too many things in the world that could take Marcus’s breath away. The stunning orange- and purple-hued sky at the break of dawn always had the power to mesmerize him. The triumph that coursed through him whenever he cut off another arm of the evil that plagued mankind filled him with a rare kind of bliss. The swell of hope he experienced each time he atoned for his sins was as close to joy as he came.

  But nothing stole the air from his lungs quite the way Regan did. Even if he hadn’t just dueled with angels, the sight of her would’ve been enough to convince him heaven existed. She stood at the heart of the room, dressed in a pair of black tights and a red tank top, watching him warily, her expression curious and guarded.

  She bit her lower lip, gave him a halfhearted smile. “I thought you’d be in bed.”

  Heat swept through him, her words drawing forth the provocative image of her lithe body arching beneath his. He could imagine far worse things than coming home to find Regan waiting for him in his bedroom.

  “I went to see Cal. Figured there were a few things we needed to get straight.”

  He wanted to go to her, to pull her hard against him and lose himself in her. Only in Regan’s arms could he find the peace he craved. But her body language served as a barrier between them, as tangible as steel.

  She crossed her arms over her chest, turning her back to him. “What did he have to say?”

  “A lot of things.”

  Her shoulders rose and fell each time she inhaled. “Did he tell you why he’s been lying to us all these years?”

  “Yes.” Marcus took a step toward her, then another. “But Cal is the last thing I want to talk about right now.” He touched his palm to her back, allowed her warmth to seep into his flesh and thaw the ice within him. Liquid heat filled his veins, made the darkness retreat and the humanity he’d thought he’d lost blaze to life.

  Her shoulders stopped moving. “What do you want to talk about?”

  He slid his hands around her ribcage, trapping her against him, his head falling forward until his nose grazed the top of her head. She smelled of rain and flowers, of woman and spring. Being this close to her without being assaulted by that familiar twinge of guilt was something new. The feeling would take a little getting used to. “I don’t want to talk at all.”

  She turned in his arms, her breasts brushing his chest in a way that made his brain go numb and his body leap to attention. “Well, that’s just like you, refusing to talk when there’s so damn much to say. We’re having a kid together, the future’s one big question mark. Then there’s Cal and his stupid blood vow—”

  He crushed her mouth, and Regan’s tirade ended on a gasp. Her hands rose to press against the hard wall of his chest. For a second he thought she was going to push him away. Then her fingers fisted over his shirt, grabbing a handful of fabric and trapping him there. He plundered her mouth, reveling at the silky feel of her tongue as it mated with his. A sound—half groan, half sigh—issued from their joined lips, but he wasn’t sure if it had come from him or from her. Right now, it was hard to tell where he ended and she began.

  The scent of her, the feel and taste of her, made him burn from the inside out. He wouldn’t have thought it possible to want her any more than he’d wanted her the first time they’d made love, but he did. More and more every day. He’d spent his entire existence looking for a place to belong, and he’d found it in Regan’s arms. After nearly three centuries, Marcus had finally come home.

  She broke the kiss and pulled away from him so abruptly he stumbled forward. “I don’t understand. I thought now that we’re back to reality—” She shook her head, her cheeks flushed, her eyes glimmering with a vulnerability that made him ache to shelter and protect her.

  “After everything we’ve been through, did you really think I could walk away from you?” He met her uncertain gaze, held it.

  The stunned look she gave him was like a blow to the gut. He ran his palm over his face, exasperated. “I’m really not that good with words, but I guess I’m going to have to spell it out for you. When I told you I love you, I meant it. I didn’t say it because I was drunk on souls or high on adrenaline. I wasn’t trying to get you into bed or make you feel better. I told you how I felt because the words needed to be said, and because I was going to explode if I kept them inside a minute longer.”

  He bracketed her face, his voice dropping to a whisper, emotion clogging his throat. “I may be a soulless bastard, but I know what love is. Because of you.”

  Tears filled her eyes, and she swatted them away with the back of her hand. “Look at me. I’m crying like a goddamn girl.”

  Laughter rumbled in his throat. Only Regan had the power to make him laugh. It felt so good he nearly cried, too.

  She straightened her back, pulled herself together. “What does Cal think about all this?”

  “It doesn’t matter. I told him I wasn’t going to give you up. Like it or not, you’re stuck with me.”

  A radiant smile lit up her face, and an impossibly sweet feeling fisted around his heart. “I think I can live with that, as long as you don’t boss me around too much.”

  “Kiss me.”

  “There you go already, bossing me around—”

  He claimed her mouth in a kiss that was both tender and possessive.

  She was his. She’d always been his.

  Need reared within him, springing from a well of emotion he’d spent centuries ignoring. In that moment, the past and present merged. It was as though he kissed her for the thousandth time and the first. She was everything—the very air he breathed, the ground he stood on, the blood pumping through his veins.

  Tangling his fingers in her hair, he hooked his other arm around her waist and flattened her against him. Her body fused with his, and red-hot sparks of pleasure shot through his bloodstream.

  He guided her to the bed, where he could worship and cherish her, where all realities became one. She moved with him, met each thrust of his hips with a graceful arch of her back, returned each of his kisses with a heated one of her own. Her touch awakened sensations within him he’d all but forgotten. Every sigh, every caress slowly brought him to life and infused him with this one certainty: He’d never let her go.

  The Apocalypse could come crashing down on them, the entire world could be washed away by another great flood, the angels could all fall from the sky, and he’d keep holding on.

  Because he had to. He was lost without her.

  In Regan’s loving arms, Marcus had found not only his delinquent soul but something he’d believed well beyond his reach. Something he still wasn’t entirely convinced he deserved. Redemption.

  About the Author

  Anne Hope is the author of emotionally intense romances with a twist—a twist of humor, a twist of suspense, a twist of magic. All her stories, however, have a common thread. Whether they make you laugh or cry or push you to the edge of your seat, they all feature the redeeming power of love and the heart’s incredible ability to heal.

  Anne’s passion for writing began at the age of eight. After penning countless stories about enchanted houses, alien girls with supernatural powers and children constantly getting lost in the woods, she decided to try her hand at romance. She lives in Montreal, Canada, with her husband, her two inexhaustible kids, a lazy cat and a rambunctious Australian Kelpie.

  To learn more about Anne Hope, please visit www.annehope.com, send an email to Anne Hope at anne@annehope.com or sign up for her newsletter. />
  Look for these titles by Anne Hope

  Now Available:

  Where Dreams Are Made

  Broken Angels

  Dark Souls

  Soul Bound

  The one man she wants is the one man destined to destroy her.

  Soul Bound

  © 2012 Anne Hope

  Dark Souls, Book 1

  Sooner or later we all end up dead. Jace Cutler doesn’t have the luxury of staying that way. After receiving a fatal stab wound, he awakens in a hospital room in Portland, Oregon, with no memory and a big hole where his soul used to be. Worst of all is the glow. Everyone is surrounded by a strange white aura he hungers to possess, none more compelling than the one enveloping Dr. Lia Benson.

  Lia has always been ruled by reason, refusing to put stock in such nebulous things as destiny. Until Jace dies in her arms, then miraculously comes back to life. Whenever he’s near, her soul responds and her body burns. And she’s consumed by odd dreams she’s convinced are Jace’s lost memories.

  When Lia is kidnapped, Jace tracks her and discovers a shocking explanation for who—and what—he is. Something no longer human, a dark legacy that until now has lain dormant within him. Something that could destroy the one woman he’d sacrifice everything to protect.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Soul Bound:

  Jace wasn’t in bed beside her. He’d slipped out of the room so quietly, she hadn’t heard him walk away, which was quite an accomplishment because she was a very light sleeper. A sense of loss she couldn’t explain swamped her, so she shot out of bed and went in search of him. He couldn’t have run off. Not again. Not before she could sort this out.

  She found him in the kitchen, sitting at the table, staring at his joined hands. Relief flooded her veins. “I thought you left.”

  “I considered it.” He refused to meet her gaze. “But I’ve got nowhere else to go.”

  Heat again. Whenever she was near him, warmth spread around her heart like a pocket of sunlight. Crazy. Total insanity was what this was. Jace Cutler was all wrong for her. Hadn’t she seen what he’d done to Cassie? Even worse, her sister was still hung up on the guy.

  “I can find out where you live, if that’ll help—”

  “Can’t stay there.” He shook his head, ran his fingers through his hair until it stood out in uneven tufts that begged to be smoothed out. “First place they’ll look.”

  Now it was her turn to be frazzled. “Who?”

  “Don’t know. Them. The things that are after me.”

  “Jace, you’re not making any sense. Let me take you back to the hospital, run that MRI—”

  “No.” The finality in his voice silenced her. “If you don’t want me here, I’ll go. But there’s no goddamn way I’m going back to that hospital.” There was steel in his tone and a passion that bordered on fury.

  He must’ve noticed the startled look in her eyes, because a mouthful of air whooshed out of him. “Sorry. I’m not myself today. Whoever the hell that is.”

  Compassion prevailed over nerves, and she approached him. “At least let me take a look at that wound, make sure it’s not infected.”

  He nodded noncommittally. Pulling a chair beside him, she prepared to help him the only way she could. Her spine tingled at the thought of what she would find when she peeled off the bandage. His was the strangest burn she’d ever seen. “Don’t move,” she ordered, then proceeded to unwrap the gauze.

  Her hand suddenly stilled, surprise and disbelief lancing through her. The burn had healed. His skin was pink and virtually intact, marred only by a thin, silver scar where the wound had been. She traced the mark with her finger. An electric charge instantly traveled up her arm and shook her body. “I think I’m hallucinating.”

  He slanted a glance at his arm, reached over to touch it. His fingers grazed hers, and the heat increased tenfold. “Then we’re both trapped in the same nightmare.”

  “I don’t know how to help you,” she voiced honestly. “I don’t understand any of this.”

  “Just don’t bail on me.” A river of pain, wrapped in a silent plea, swam in his eyes.

  She felt him then, the boy in her dreams—felt his isolation, his self-loathing, the soul-ravaging desire to be something he wasn’t—and she knew beyond a doubt the flashbacks she was having belonged to him. Somehow, in that one moment when death had stood vigil between them, their spirits had merged—undeniably, irrevocably. Whether they liked it or not, they were connected, linked by an energy they couldn’t see or touch or taste but was more real than anything either of them had ever known before.

  And it scared the crap out of her.

  “Why you?” Emotion strangled her voice. “Of all the men out there, why did it have to be you?”

  She didn’t need to explain; he understood. Need flared in his gaze, and for one endless heartbeat she was sure he was going to kiss her. His hands rose to bracket her face. His head fell forward. The world held its breath…or maybe it was just her. Some primal intuition told her that once his mouth covered hers, there would be no going back. The bond would be cemented, the deal sealed. Two independent entities would become one.

  “If I asked you to kiss me, would you do it?” His words caressed her lips.

  “Yes.” No hesitation. No doubts. Just honesty.

  “Because you want to or because I told you to?”

  She wagged her head in confusion. “Does it matter?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I don’t know what’s real anymore.” He released her, and disappointment rippled through her. “I’m not what you need. I’ll only drag you down. That’s what I do. I don’t need my memories to know that.”

  He stood, walked to the window and stared outside, where a blanket of clouds hovered beneath a flickering sun. “I destroy everything I touch.”

  She wanted to refute his claim, but how could she, when everything inside her insisted he was right? What scared her was how little she cared. She needed to be near him, and damn the consequences. She’d always been the reasonable one, the responsible sister, the one who thought things through. But right now recklessness invaded her psyche, steamrolled every word of caution screeching in her mind.

  “I’m not afraid of you.” He was dangerous, no question about that, but for some inexplicable reason she felt safe with him.

  “You should be.”

  His wings were made to protect her…but her heart is a no-fly zone.

  The Silverwing’s Sorceress

  © 2012 Cassi Carver

  The Shadow Slayers, Book 2.5

  Abbey Sellers has to get out of town for a few days while trouble at home sorts itself out. A getaway to her family’s mountain retreat with her friend, Jaxon, is exactly what she needs to relax and forget the wound etched into her stomach. Except since the scorching kiss they shared, spending time with Jaxon isn’t as relaxing as it used to be.

  Grounded warriors, secret tunnels, and an ancient Book of Death are only part of the problem. How does any woman with a pulse stay “just friends” with a man who spent a hundred years honing his lovemaking skills in a harem? Besides, he’s immortal, and she has a shelf life. Jaxon, though, isn’t listening—or taking no for an answer.

  Jaxon Hex finally knows what he wants, and he won’t let anything stop him from making Abbey his. Not even the devastating secret he’s been hiding from her. With the coven out to assassinate the woman he loves, and Abbey dabbling in death magic that could get her killed, his own blood could be the one thing that heals her—or separates them for all eternity.

  Warning: This book contains a warrior with needs, a woman with willpower issues and a cabin that’s not what it seems. Watch out for no-holds-barred sex and a love that can move mountains…literally.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for The Silverwing’s Sorceress:

  Abbey glanced back and forth between Jaxon’s work boot smashing down the brake pedal and the pine trees flashing past the darkened passenge
r window. “Pump harder, Jaxon!”

  Sparks shot from the side of the passenger door as the white Neon scraped against the metal railing separating them from the sheer drop of the cliff.

  But rubbing the railing wasn’t enough to slow them down. Not when the mountain range they’d driven up for the past forty-five minutes finally crested, and the road began its steep downhill descent—a slope that on any other day would have them to her family’s cabin in just a few miles.

  “Hold it down,” she urged. “Just press it to the floor!”

  He speared her with a quick glance. “I know how to stop a car.”

  Braking was something Abbey had taught him day one of his driving lessons, and she knew deep in her heart, no matter how much she wanted to deny it, that this wasn’t a simple problem of him not doing it right.

  The brakes were out.

  Jaxon slammed his foot onto the brake so hard that it looked as if the force buried the pedal in the floorboard. The vibrations from the car riding the railing were enough to make the speedometer a blur. It probably didn’t matter how fast they were going anyway. There was a vertical rock wall looming above them to their left and a drop off the side of the mountain to their right. They were going to die. And Abbey wasn’t ready.

  “Put on your seatbelt, Abigail. Do it now,” Jaxon commanded.

  When a realization broke through her panic, a sense of peace filled her like a cleansing breath of ocean air. Jaxon was Demiáre, and fallen angel hybrids like him could survive anything but total decapitation. Abbey, with her witch blood, wasn’t so lucky.

  With the sound of metal shredding and sparks lighting the dark night, Abbey laid her hand on Jaxon’s shoulder. His skin was hot and damp through the thin white T-shirt he wore, and as he fought for control over the steering wheel, the car began to hop from its left tires to its right, threatening to tip.