Soul Bonded, #1

by Lori Titus

  “You’re sure chatty tonight,” mama told him. “You sure you’re okay?”

  Ronnie laughed. “Yeah Auntie I’m better than alright.”

  “Well since you’re both here,” she said, “I need you to know I think it’s time I go back to work.”

  “Umm... what?” I muttered.

  “Look. I have been sitting here at home for the last couple years doing next to nothing. I need to have something to do. And you, Missy, won’t tell me anything about what’s going on with the business so I know you probably need help. What’s the use in me sitting around here every day? You can get rid of that girl that’s been coming here to sit with me. It’s a waste of money.”

  “Mama. You’ve been sick for a while. I couldn’t just leave you home by yourself.”

  “Yes, and I’m better now. I appreciate that you were worried about me but it’s not your job.”

  “Going right back to work might be... I wouldn’t want you to overwork yourself.” I shot a look over at Ronnie but he was at a loss.

  “Uh-huh. That’s what we have Ronnie for. And you’ll be there, right?”

  Ronnie cleared his throat. “We could keep an eye on her.”

  “You sure you want to agree to that?” I asked him. “Because I may have to cut back on my hours at the store.”

  “Well it’s solved then,” Mama got up and started clearing the dishes. I reached for one, and she swatted my hand away. “You might want to start with a vacation, Natasha. I see how you are lately. You look worn down.”

  “I have been a little tired, but it’s nothing I won’t get over.”

  “I see. Well, I’m going back to the store. And you can take a couple weeks off. You haven’t moved things around to the point I won’t know where they are?”

  “No.”

  “Alright. It’s settled then.”

  Whenever Katherine Taylor tells you something is settled, that means you’re dismissed.

  Ronnie and I went and sat on the back porch.

  “What the hell just happened?” he asked. He reached into his pocket for a package of smokes. I took one from him.

  “She’s feisty as ever. I’m not getting rid of her caregiver just yet but do me a favor. She wants to go back to the store, let her. The minute she does something off you let me know. Maybe she’s going to have to learn she’s not ready for this the hard way.”

  “Kind of cold if you ask me. What, just let her mess up?”

  “Maybe. I don’t see another way to handle it,” I said. I lit the cigarette and put it to my lips. It was a mild, warm night, and a breeze moved through the trees.

  “What’s this about you cutting back your hours?” Ronnie pressed.

  “I’m going to be taking some work on the side, just to help around here. It will be maybe fifteen, twenty hours a week at the most. If sales start to pick up at the store, we can hire a couple more associates.”

  “What’s up with you, Tash? You really don’t seem as happy as I thought you’d be with your mom doing so much better.”

  I didn’t even try to smile. I knew what waited for me. There was no way I was going to go back on my promise now that I saw how she was. Money could be made or borrowed, but I had no other way to get my mom back to normal.

  “It’s scary,” I told Ronnie. “I worry about her regressing,” I lied. “I don’t know how I could take it if that happened.”

  He patted my back. “Okay. Well then we keep our expectations modest,” Ronnie said. “We had a great night tonight and we’ll leave it at that.”

  He went home around ten. Mama went to bed shortly after. She said she was tired, but it seemed like the normal effects of exertion, none of the fuzziness and confusion she often suffered during the night.

  I was sitting in the chair across from the foot of her bed. How many times had I sat there just watching her, feeling hopeless? I’d had so many thoughts that made me ashamed. I’d promised myself I would never put her in a home somewhere to be mistreated or ignored. But if I was honest with myself, I had to admit that on some of those worst nights, when she asked me what time my father was coming home, I prayed for her to pass away in her sleep.

  My mother walked into the room, wearing her robe.

  “You should get some sleep too, baby,” she said. She touched my cheek lovingly. “What’s going on? You’d tell me if something wasn’t right?”

  “Yes, Mama.”

  She shook her head and gave me a look.

  “Natasha.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You want me to make a cleansing spell for you? Child, I swear your aura is really off.”

  Well damnit, I thought. My aura is about to get a lot more strange. That is... if a person who gave away their soul even has an aura.

  “I can take care of it myself,” I said. “I still have all your old books.”

  “You make it sound like a recipe for hot chocolate. Last time we talked about it, you weren’t so enthusiastic about the idea of learning spells.”

  “Last time we talked about magic was a long time ago.” I left it at that. I couldn’t tell her that I had been reading her spell books and anything else I could get my fingers on since I was fourteen—that I read my father’s books on demonology and could repeat some of them backward and forward.

  I stopped reading those texts after Dad died, but I still remembered.

  I didn’t want her to know that, despite promising her he wouldn’t, my father had taught me all the secrets of demons and magic long before he died.

  “Well I’m glad that you changed your mind. It was just fear talking. And youth,” she said.

  I got up, kissed her on the forehead, and left her to get a good night’s sleep. I hoped that this would be the first of many days she would remember.

  I went to my room and waited. I didn’t undress or get ready for bed.

  The moments ticked down slowly. I wondered what my father would think of my choices if he were still alive. One thing for sure, Ezekiel Taylor made some big mistakes in his time. He might be the only person who would come close to even understanding what I was about to do. Or maybe I was just kidding myself. I’m an only child. I’ve always carried the mantle of being the only one who could carry our family’s legacy, and neither of my parents would agree to what I was about to do.

  At 11:59, I got a text.

  I went downstairs as instructed.

  Ramshead was standing outside, waiting for me. He was at the end of the block, hands jammed into his coat pockets. A slow smile touched his lips. It was the look of a man who was about to get just what he wanted.

  The streetlamps seemed dimmer than normal, and a thin pall of fog hung low in the area. I thought again of the Nethers, and their silent watch over my house. I didn’t see them. Maybe they didn’t need to be close when their master was present.

  “No one can accuse you of not being punctual,” I said.

  Once I joined him, we started walking. There was a park within walking distance of the neighborhood and it seemed that was where he was leading me. I had the fleeting thought it might make a good place to kill me, but then on the other hand, he wouldn’t get any use out of me if he did. He’d went through a lot of trouble to get me this far.

  “Well, I wanted to take care of this as soon as possible,” Victor smiled. “It’s quick and won’t be unpleasant.”

  “Why do I feel like a kid getting the shot for mumps and being told that it will pinch just a little bit?”

  “Oh. Does it hurt when they do those?” he asked.

  “Like a bitch,” I replied.

  He chuckled. “That’s precious. You forget how old I am, darling. There was no such thing as an inoculation back in the days when I was a child, so I wouldn’t know. If you were unlucky enough to get sick then, you died. I read somewhere that in the decade I was born, something like one child survived out of three. We were stronger stock than you people these days.”

  “You were a child?” I asked. “You mean you were human
? I was so sure you were formed out of the dregs of the first volcano.”

  “I was human,” the old demon said. When he looked at me his eyes turned red. I didn’t flinch. Instead, I was very still, the fine hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.

  “I’d remind you that I’m not anymore. You like to test me. I can promise you it’s not a good idea.”

  “I’m about to give you my soul, that gives me the right to talk shit. I don’t have a choice about what you’re about to do.”

  That evil grin was back. I imagined that if there was anything in his chest where a heart was supposed to be, it had turned to ash a few centuries ago. “Ah. But if our deal proves anything, it’s that you always have a choice.”

  He put his hand on the center of my chest.

  The blinding light that came next made me close my eyes. I screamed.

  I DIDN’T KNOW WHERE I was when I woke up.

  I was flat on my back, staring at a ceiling. The paint was a faded cream color, and there were a few spider webs in the far corner. I saw the maker of said web, a black bodied, wicked looking thing with furry legs scurried into a crack in the plaster as if it felt my eyes on him.

  Before I bothered to sit up, I took an inventory of a few things.

  Apparently, I was alive. The pounding in my head made me certain of that. I didn’t have to look around to know that wherever I was, Ramshead was nowhere to be found. The man had an odd sort of negative energy about him, something I’d never seen before. Whatever that energy was, it was big enough to fill any room.

  I was fully clothed. Someone had taken my jacket and my shoes off. I was lying on a stranger’s couch.

  Sitting up slowly, I squinted even though the light was dim.

  Chris was standing just inside the archway that separated the living room from the kitchen. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, and it took a moment for me to recognize him because I’d only seen him in a suit.

  “Oh good, you’re awake,” he said.

  “Or close to awake,” I said. “This is your place?”

  “Yeah. Sorry about the mess. I wasn’t expecting company.”

  The house wasn’t exactly a mess. The living room was just two sofas and a coffee table. The television was bolted to a corner of the wall. There was a dry scent of dust in the air, as if the surfaces could stand a good once over with some polish.

  It was an average bachelor’s pad.

  He handed me a bottle of water. It was deliciously cold and I gulped half of it down. “Why am I here?”

  “Ramshead dropped you off,” he said, taking a seat on the couch across from mine. “He told me to keep an eye on you until morning to make sure the ‘procedure’ took without any problems. He makes harvesting someone’s soul sound like it’s getting your tonsils taken out.” He paused. “How do you feel?”

  “Weird,” I said. “Empty.”

  “If it helps any, the physical discomfort goes away after a few days, in my experience.”

  “And the emotional weirdness?” I asked. Though I was fine, and we were simply talking, I felt like I wanted to scream or run. Or maybe do both at the same time. And I hadn’t even had time to think about what this was all going to mean for my life, or afterlife if there was one.

  “I can’t help you with that part. I was pretty screwed up before, so I didn’t notice much difference there.”

  He punctuated this comment with a blink of those pretty eyes of his. I’ve known you all of five minutes, and you’re already lying, I thought.

  “How so?” I asked.

  “I’ve been having flashbacks and nightmares since I got back home,” he said quietly. “Medication made it worse. Alcohol helped me sleep but with the obvious consequences.”

  “You opted out of your soul to stop them?” I wasn’t asking him a question. He didn’t answer. In retrospect, it was probably a shitty remark but one that I couldn’t help myself from making. It came out sounding judgy when I didn’t mean it to.

  Chris stood up. “You should probably stay the night. If you like, you can have my room. There’s a lock on the door, I don’t mind sleeping out here. Or I can drive you back to your house. Do you have anyone who can look in on you?”

  “I don’t. My mother is home, but she wouldn’t know.... Who sat with you after they did this to you?”

  “My sponsor. He’s the one who got me roped into this mess.”

  “I see. Do they get a kick back? Like some kind of pyramid scheme?”

  “I think so. Who got you referred?”

  “Some loan officer at my bank. I see why Victor brought me here, and not to her. No way I was going to wake up and see that bitch right now without punching her lights out.”

  Chris laughed. An honest to goodness belly laugh. Once he composed himself he asked another question. “What’s your thing, Natasha? What did they get you for?”

  “My mother is sick. Alzheimer’s, early onset. I agreed to this, and today she woke up with her memory intact. And yeah, they offered me money too.”

  Chris looked like he was thinking about commenting on that, but he did the smart thing and didn’t spout whatever speech he probably had in mind.

  “If you feel more comfortable with me staying at your place I can do that,” he offered. “On the couch of course. I’ll drive you home.”

  I hadn’t even thought about it, but I didn’t have my car with me and had no idea where this guy lived or how far we were from my house.

  “Well I have a question, then. Did the old man say anything about what you’re supposed to do if I go into some kind of medical crisis in the middle of the night?”

  “He told me to call him, but he didn’t say what he would have to do. I don’t think an ambulance could help you at that point.”

  I didn’t like either idea. Chris was under Ramshead’s control just like I was, and that meant he might be forced to do anything. At the same time, I thought there might be some truth to the idea that someone needed to be around just in case.... My chest felt hollow and it wasn’t like anyone else would know what to do for me. At home I’d be in my element. Chris might be military, but I slept with a rifle under my bed.

  “Okay,” I said. “But you’re going to have to leave early. I’d have a hell of a time explaining you away.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Christopher Stuckey

  Natasha seemed to think she was doing just fine, but she looked sick. There was a grayish tint beneath the brown of her skin and an unfocused look in her eyes. Her pupils were dilated. I suggested taking her back home because I could tell she wasn’t going to feel safe at my place. Most likely she would have called a taxi or a car service and gotten home by herself if I let her. Ethan stayed with me the whole night after Ramshead harvested my soul. When I woke up he’d related several gruesome stories of ways I could have died if things didn’t go right. While I wasn’t about to share any of those possibilities with Natasha, I had no intention of leaving her before dawn.

  She told me where she lived and luckily it was a straight shot from my house, four exits off the freeway from my neighborhood. I’d heard about the history of this section of the city but never had occasion to be there before. As soon as I turned onto the drive, I noticed the pricey homes and manicured lawns. A house on this side of town would sell for more than a million dollars. Most of the families in the neighborhood were black, upwardly mobile, and some had lived there for a couple of generations.

  Interesting. She lived in a wealthy neighborhood but she’d mentioned that the deal she made with Ramshead involved money. I wondered if that had something to do with medical bills and caring for her mother. Even if she had concerns about whether or not the bastard could heal her mother, I doubted she would refuse money. Especially if she was hard up for it.

  “Is this it?” I asked.

  Natasha jolted upright. She looked around for a moment, confused. She brushed her hair absently. Her eyes darted up to the house, and then back to me. “Um... yes,” she said.


  We got out of the car and I followed her up to the door. Maybe the night air helped. She seemed a bit steadier on her feet than she had earlier.

  Even though it was dark except for a dim porch light, I hung back a little. Her womanly form curved in all the right places and the skirt she wore accentuated it. When she cast a glance over her shoulder, I pretended not to look. She jingled the keys in her hand.

  “Welcome,” she said as she opened the door.

  We stood in the hallway for a brief moment. She pointed to the right. “Living room, kitchen, Mama’s room,” she said. “Keep away from that side of the house. You’re coming upstairs.”

  Under different circumstances, that would have sounded great. But there was not going to be anything fun about this stay, and I had to remind myself of that.

  The second floor had three bedrooms, an office, Natasha’s room, and a guest room. The single bathroom across the hall boasted a claw foot tub and pedestal sink.

  “I don’t know what they were thinking when they built this old house,” she said, taking me into a small room I hadn’t noticed. “But this room has a connecting door,” she brushed past me. There was a full-length mirror on the door. She opened the door, and sure enough, I could see through the other side into Natasha’s room.

  “Okay, so here are my rules. No hovering. Please do go to sleep at some point. I need you to get out around dawn. Don’t slam anything or walk around because Mama will hear you.”

  “She’s not used to you bringing dates home?” I asked.

  She shot me an icy look that made me regret that attempt at levity.

  Natasha went to her room and got in bed, without changing. The faint blue light of a streetlamp leaked in from behind the curtains. It was just enough to see the outline of her shoulder, to catch the rise and fall of it as she took in her breath. I got in bed myself. I felt like a stalker. At the same time, I was afraid to leave her.

  I was fine sitting in bed for the first twenty minutes. After that, I caught myself nodding off, twice.