Soul Fire

by D. N. Erikson

  Without thinking, I grabbed the parcel and charged out the door, leaving it wide open.

  Halfway up the apocalyptic afterthought of a street, I heard behind me, “Goddamn squatters.” A shotgun ratcheted, the sound digging into my ears like spurs into a horse’s flank.

  I pushed around the corner.

  No shot came.

  Then, Johns again, yelling into the night as he realized I’d taken the parcel. “Thieving bitch!”

  As I sprinted toward the glowing headquarters lording over the city, I wedged the switchblade into the soft bundle of brown paper and packing tape.

  Headlights flashed over the contents.

  I stopped, half in fear, half in surprise.

  Then I realized that Kai had waited for me around the corner, and all I was left with was shock.

  Because where I’d expected cash, or maybe some dirt weed, I saw the unmistakable gleam of five syringes wrapped tightly behind a wall of bubble wrap.

  Syringes identical to what the FBI had found at the crime scene.

  And there was space in the package where one had gone missing.

  19

  Kai looked less than pleased about my narrow getaway, but said nothing as we left the crumbling neighborhood behind us. It wasn’t long before the houses were fully intact and the streets were properly paved. The orange glow of streetlights splashed across the dark road, crisscrossing the windshield as we passed beneath them.

  I cradled the syringes like they were precious cargo.

  The evidence was indisputable.

  Thomas Johns was involved in Anya’s demise. I suspected a closer examination of the other two—Ferdinand Hall and Samantha Williams—would yield a similar conclusion.

  Stopped at a red light with no one around for miles, Kai turned one eye toward me.

  “Never do that again, Eden.” His voice was quiet, but the words hit me like a bomb.

  “But we—”

  “No.” His mellow baritone contained a hint of gravel, like a singer digging in to drive the final chorus home.

  Asking me not to break the rules was like demanding a fish to grow wings.

  That shit only happened in fairy tales.

  “You’re not even a little curious?” I tapped his tattooed arm with the brown parcel.

  Quick as a panther, he yanked it from my hands and hurled it out the window.

  His tense breathing punctuated the awkward silence as the light changed green, then back to red. Kai bit his top lip and shook his head, then exited the car and picked up the parcel. After gently returning it to my lap, he turned the wheel and kept driving.

  Despite the impact, none of the glass syringes had shattered.

  Custom materials, indeed.

  “Well, that was…interesting,” I said.

  His eyes didn’t leave the road as the sigil flickered a light shade of blue. I could tell he was taking me back home. There was a disturbance in his placid soul. Whether it was me, or him keeping some latent darkness at bay was hard to say. Either way, I was probably responsible.

  The teachers always said I was a bad influence. That’s why I’d dropped out of school.

  Actually, I’d hated it. So I hadn’t really done it for anyone else’s benefit.

  But I couldn’t drop out here. I had to listen.

  “All right, all right,” I said, throwing my hands up in resignation. “I won’t do it again.”

  To say the agent looked skeptical would be an understatement. “I swore an oath.”

  “Those are just words.” Wrong answer. His eyes narrowed as we cut down a jungle road that would bring us back to the canopied service road. “Hey, I didn’t get caught, did I?”

  “That’s not really the point.”

  I scowled at him, but his expression of mild consternation didn’t change. By his even-keeled standards, this qualified as a reaming.

  Not the good kind, for the record, where there were naked bodies involved.

  More the bad dog, ears down, tail between the legs kind.

  Partially chagrined, I slunk into the leather seat and occupied myself with the syringes. They were fatter than a standard medical needle—like something out of a mad scientist’s lab. I turned on my phone’s light—eliciting a sigh from Kai—and examined their exterior. No distinguishing marks or serial numbers.

  About to give up, I flashed the light over the plunger. Embossed in the plastic, right where you’d put your thumb, was an unmistakable insignia.

  A cloaked rider atop a galloping steed.

  Aldric’s mark.

  “Stop the car.” I glanced up to find us only a half mile from the service road. “Turn around.”

  “Eden, it’s late—”

  I reached my arm across the wheel, feigning I was about to grab it. Kai, being much stronger, batted my hand away with ease.

  But it had the intended effect: We came to a screeching stop.

  Parrots chirped angrily in the dark green leaves, voicing their complaints about being awoken.

  For his part, Kai didn’t look too pleased either. This was the proverbial straw across the camel’s back—and he was trying hard not to break.

  I waited for him to speak until the blaring silence made it apparent I needed to make the opening move.

  What I came up with was, “You should’ve stopped the car when I told you to.”

  Instead of anger, he cracked a small smile. It disappeared, then cropped back up like a virulent weed. This cycle continued for about thirty seconds until he turned away and looked out the window.

  Then he stifled a laugh.

  “Something funny?” Annoyance suddenly crowded out any lingering shame I’d felt about letting him down.

  “I’ve never met anyone like you.”

  Well, I didn’t have an answer ready for that. It took me a minute to gather the courage to ask, “Is that a compliment?”

  My voice was a little softer than I would have liked.

  “Right now, it’s debatable.” He threw the SUV into reverse, backed up, then pulled a U-turn. “But tell me what you got off the syringe.”

  I cleared my throat, and said, “Aldric.”

  Too loud.

  Come on, Eden, pull it together.

  “Your boss?”

  “One and the same.” I set my hand gently on his broad shoulder this time, which made our second stop less herky-jerky. When he leaned over to grab the syringe, his aftershave flooded my side of the car. It lingered even after he’d left.

  He stroked his clean-shaven jaw and leaned back into his seat. “This changes things.”

  “I’d say so, yeah.”

  “Not what I meant.” Kai handed me back the syringe. “My hands are tied.”

  “I’m not liking where this is headed,” I said, knowing exactly where this was headed.

  “Anything or anyone associated with Aldric is off limits. Orders from the top.”

  The frustration was palpable in his voice.

  But it made sense, even if I didn’t like it. Aldric—and, well, I—had been the primary reason the FBI had fought so hard to set up shop on Atheas in the first place.

  Poking around the vampire warlord’s business on a fishing expedition was a nonstarter. And I got the distinct impression that insubordination of the sort I’d exhibited at Johns’s house would have stiff consequences.

  The car sat still in the jungle.

  I said, “You guys can’t seriously believe you’ll build a case against him. Arrest the guy who sacked Rome? Fucking absurd.”

  Kai’s expression communicated more than words. Arrest wasn’t in the cards.

  But Aldric had the FBI outgunned and outmanned. Proceeding with caution was the only choice.

  He began turning the wheel, ready to call it a night. Then he stopped like someone had poked him in the ass with a hot stick.

  “Ferdinand Hall.”

  “I’m sorry, was that a coherent thought?” I gave him a funny look.

  “His prints were on the syri
nge, too.”

  “I didn’t forget. I’m a good listener.”

  Kai raised an eyebrow at that dubious claim.

  I scowled and added, “When I want to be.”

  His expression said riiight, but his mouth said, “He’s retired, now—works as an undertaker at the cemetery. But his background is in manufacturing. Used to work at an injection molding facility down by the waterfront.”

  “You got all that from public records?” I asked.

  “Google is a surprisingly effective tool.”

  Who needed magic when you had the power of technology?

  “And we care about this why?”

  “Maybe he’s sneaking into his old place of work to use the machines for other purposes.” The SUV’s tires glided over the jungle road as we started moving again. He nodded toward the brown parcel in my lap. “Like committing a murder.” Then he sighed. “But that’s a longshot.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because Ferdinand Hall was paralyzed from the waist down in a hit-and-run three years ago.”

  “That doesn’t affect his hands,” I said.

  Kai nodded, and the car picked up steam around a gentle curve. I couldn’t help poking the bear.

  “You know you’re investigating this lead based on stolen evidence, right?”

  Kai didn’t answer. We kept moving.

  Aldric’s involvement had loosened his strict moral code ever so slightly.

  Worry gnawed at the edges of my stomach. Not because I was breaking the law.

  But because of what might become of Kai if Aldric found him poking his nose where it didn’t belong.

  20

  Depending on where you grew up, the term waterfront either conjures up opulence—lantern-lit restaurants, gilded boats, flowing gowns, and dapper suits—or industrial grunge, with everything perpetually slicked in salt water and engine grease. Atheas’s waterfront fell into the latter category. While the rich owned plenty of beachfront property elsewhere on the island, they all gave the shipping docks a wide berth.

  The reason—other than the paint-stripped warehouses and dented shipping containers stacked like Legos across the dirty concrete—was obvious as the SUV pulled up to the double-gated entrance: The acrid, chemical aroma of industry hung over the docks like a foul-smelling storm cloud.

  We drove down a narrow road—really a bunch of shipping containers stacked parallel to one another—and parked in front of a stout, one story facility. Kai stepped out into the night, his boots tapping a lonesome song over the deserted waterfront.

  I followed, shivering from the brisk chill.

  The Black Sea Holdings manufacturing facility was three hundred feet deep, running right up to the edge of the Pacific. Its utilitarian black exterior featured no logos. A ramp led up to a pair of double doors at the center of its façade.

  Kai was already headed up the gentle incline, his black hair shimmering from the light towers ringing the waterfront. Hopefully Aldric didn’t have eyes down here.

  If he did, they’d already spotted us.

  I shoved my hands in my pockets and hurried to catch up with Kai.

  He tried the door and shook his head.

  “Locked?”

  “I’d say so.” His knuckle tapped against a glowing fingerprint scanner. The aluminum doors looked sturdy. “We’ve already pushed our luck tonight, anyway.”

  “I mean, we’re here. Hall could be home.”

  “Ferdinand Hall doesn’t work at Black Sea Holdings anymore,” Kai said.

  “All the more reason to see if he’s in there.”

  “It’s time to call it, Eden.”

  “Not yet.”

  I headed down the ramp, inspecting the facility for possible weak points. The front yielded no viable options: no windows, no fire escapes, no pipes to shimmy up. Venturing around its two flanks proved similarly fruitless.

  After ten minutes, I concluded the obvious: Breaking in would be impossible.

  We needed a fingerprint. Otherwise, we weren’t getting inside.

  I considered trying my thumb on the reader. Technically, I was in Aldric’s employ. But I hadn’t been granted free reign to his island fiefdom. That would undermine his ability to keep me under control.

  No, pressing my finger to the scanner would only unleash an unwelcome hornet’s nest.

  Shelving the idea, I called as I walked back to the front, “We could knock.”

  I got to the front ramp and glanced around the waterfront.

  Kai was nowhere to be found.

  “Hey,” I whispered to the docks, “where are you?”

  An answer came, but not from Kai. “And here I thought you were going to behave, Eden.”

  Aldric’s titanic soul washed over the oil-slicked concrete, but I couldn’t see the vampire. Dread dripped through my chest like black tar when I considered what Aldric might have done to the agent.

  “You didn’t think that,” I said, peering over by the rusted shipping containers, “because you’re not an idiot.”

  “And yet, the same cannot be said of you. For a smart individual would not poke her fingers where they are liable to be lost.”

  I clenched my fists, as if that would save my fingers from the chopping block. Lacking a witty retort, I decided that keeping my mouth shut—for once—would be best for my health.

  And Kai’s.

  “But most of all, Eden, I am disappointed.”

  “Disappointed?” I asked, suddenly confused.

  The vampire snapped into view—whether he’d come from behind, or in front, it was impossible to say. He adjusted his shirt sleeves with a sharp tug before turning his hawkish green gaze on me. Frighteningly sociopathic as ever.

  “For we have a contract.” No trace of a smile—or any expression, other than cool indifference—graced his bearded face.

  “Didn’t know I had to stay inside a fence.”

  “Meddling with secrets is not in the spirit of our deal.” Aldric strode forward, one hand in his pocket, his loafers tapping out a death march on the concrete. “You deliver seven souls. I compensate you handsomely. And, at the culmination of each week, you remain breathing. An elegant arrangement.”

  “For one of us, maybe.”

  Footsteps scraped behind me.

  I spun around. Kai limped forward, a deep gash on his arm dripping blood, but otherwise alive. The sigil glowed a fierce shade of blue, shimmering against the SUV’s black paint. Relief washed over me, although it was tempered by worry.

  He looked furious—and all that anger was directed at Aldric. He’d already lost round one—rather soundly, if his wounds were any indication. A second round would be ill-advised.

  The ancient vampire snapped his fingers to regain my attention. “An impressive warrior. Noble.”

  “What do you want?” I asked getting to the point. Having been squeezed by Aldric in the past, I knew the gist of where this was headed.

  I remained apprehensive about the specifics.

  “I do appreciate efficiency.” His confidence was irritating.

  I doubled down. “Tell me something, asshole.” I willed my legs forward. “Why’d you come begging for your souls a few hours ago? Why are you making house calls down to this oil-stained shitpile?”

  “Careful, Eden.” A menacing glint flashed in his hawkish eyes. “You are playing a dangerous game.”

  “Are you making a play? Something to do with a guardian dying?”

  “Those security tapes can find their way to the FBI.” Aldric shook his head, like he was reprimanding a child. “Ms. Willsprout would be delighted to share them, in fact.”

  His ruthless high-powered attorney.

  “We don’t need a warrant to browse,” I said.

  “But I heard you were instructed to leave me alone. This behavior hardly qualifies.” Aldric adjusted his suit lapels, looking like he’d just checkmated us.

  “Fuck you.” Kai’s voice was low and throaty, his calmness swallowed by primal anger. “D
o it.”

  “A noble man.” Aldric placed his hand on my shoulder, his grip digging in ever so slightly. “But his job is not the only thing your new friend stands to lose.”

  “That sounds like a threat,” I said.

  “Merely a cordial request to leave my affairs alone.” Aldric’s emerald eyes glinted like diamond-sharpened scimitars in the bright floodlights. “And do refrain from bothering Mr. Hall. He is not a healthy man.”

  Cordial requests?

  This guy hadn’t said please since the Dark Ages.

  Something was up with Aldric.

  Something big.

  But before I could respond, the vampire vanished like a wraith into the night, leaving me shivering on the cold docks.

  21

  With Aldric gone, I rushed to Kai. The agent stopped me with a low grunt, holding up his wounded arm. Blood dripped to the grimy concrete like little crimson rain drops. The sigil continued to glow a bright, unbridled blue, the tip of the simple spear pulsing like a supernova.

  But more than anything, I noticed the rift in his soul. Human souls were quiet, undetectable unless I paid close attention. Right now, his burned brightly with a destructive flame, remnants of an unknown past bleeding into his current being.

  The agent breathed heavily, his black hair fluttering in the acrid breeze.

  I said, “Everything’s going to be okay.”

  “I don’t think so.” His laugh was bitter. Unexpected, but sounding natural, which made a pang of fear ripple over me. I suppressed the sudden urge to step back.

  Or run.

  Aldric had rattled him.

  This was not the Kai Taylor I knew.

  “Screw that noise,” I said, summoning false braggadocio from my reservoir of bullshit, “that vampire prick isn’t going to win.” I gave the finger to the security cameras lurking in the paint-stripped shipping containers. “Record that, asshole.”

  This got a laugh that sounded more like the Kai I was familiar with. He cracked the smallest smile, even if it evaporated faster than water in the desert. “Doubling down on what got us in this predicament is a bold move, Eden Hunter.”

  “And being angsty is for bitches, Kai Taylor.”