Soul Taker

by Nutt, Karen Michelle

  None of the prospects made her feel better. Her hand grasped the doorknob and she pulled the bedroom door closed.

  Her gaze took in the hotel room with its 18th century style reproductions, reflecting New England's charm and character. It should have left her with a cozy feeling, but it didn't even come close.

  She hugged her arms against her chest. She didn't feel safe.

  Isabella glanced at the window adorned with floor length curtains. Taking the steps toward it, her hand moved the heavy fabric aside to gaze outside. A chill brushed her as if someone watched her from afar. It was the same creepy feeling she experienced at Marcy's wake. Her hand fell away and the curtain swayed into place, blocking the outside from view.

  Spotting her purse on the end table, she grabbed it, checking the inside pocket. She felt reassured when her fingers grazed over the cool metal of the Glock. Her brother wouldn't be pleased if he knew she'd taken it out of their home safe. He hated guns. He had argued with their Uncle Sebastian that they didn't need one. Nick even refused to learn how to shoot it. She was glad she had. Her hand touched the box filled with bullets—silver, iron, and other based metals.

  Her Uncle Sebastian, her mother's brother, was supposed to tell her why she'd need each type of bullet, but once Nicholas turned eighteen and petitioned to be her legal guardian—as her parents' will indicated as their wishes—Nicholas warned their uncle to stay away.

  Nicholas hadn't revealed where he kept the Glock. He danced around her inquiry each time she brought it up, but it didn't take much for her to realize the only logical place it could be was in the safe they had at home. She'd only opened it once before when Nicholas gave her a deposit for the restaurant and he'd forgotten to run by the bank. She never paid attention to what was inside that night she had tossed the money pouch in there for safekeeping, but now, since she was looking for the Glock, her curiosity took over and she investigated what else her brother kept locked away.

  The deed to the restaurant and other important documents were housed in the safe, including their passports, birth certificates, and social security cards. She also found a few other items of interest she hadn't realized they possessed. Tucked way in the back, on purpose or by chance, she found her mother's journal. She'd jotted down her experiences as a Necromancer. What worked and what did not. Not exactly bedtime material, but to her, it was a tangible link to her mother, a glimpse of who she truly was, what she was, too. She should have asked Nicholas about it, but in the end vetoed the idea, fearing he would discourage her from looking through the book. Instead, she helped herself, taking the Glock and the book for safekeeping. Once she looked the journal over, she promised herself she would return it back to the safe.

  She brought the journal with her in hopes of reading some of it before she returned home. If she were to stay up all night, she'd have plenty of time to go over it in more detail than the quick skim through she'd done.

  She plopped down onto the chair and reached over to turn on the floor lamp. Opening the journal to the first page, Otherworldly Creatures, jumped off the pages and she stopped to read what her mother had written about the subject.

  "The Undead." She scanned the page. "Their souls were called away to the veil, but then yanked back and tethered once the tainted blood transformed the human body and house the fiendlike existence."

  Isabella frowned. Surely her mother did not believe in… "Vampires." She read on. "But the strings of immortality can be severed." She skimmed further passed the details of the creature. At the end of the page, there were symbols and an incantation that would send the fiend's soul back into the veil. "This is as effective as removing their head. A wooden stake will only paralyze them," her mother had written.

  Her mother's writings about fiends—no matter how ludicrous it seemed— only heightened her unease after tonight's turn of events. At the end of the post, her mother had scrawled and underlined: Not all of the undead are evil.

  Her gaze shifted to the window. She had no reason to feel afraid. She hadn't been threatened by anyone. Yet, she sensed something stalked them, something that could harm Johanna and her if given the chance. Something evil.

  Harrison sensed it, too. Why else had he given her his phone number? Why else had he warned her not to invite anyone in?

  Her brows drew together with worry. Why had Harrison chosen those words: Don't invite anyone in. She couldn't help but think his words had a hidden meaning behind them.

  Vampire. Fiend. Evil.

  She stared at her mother's book as she ran her hand through her hair and chuckled. "You must be tired if you're considering vampire's exist." She shoved the book into her purse and zipped it shut. Sleep beckoned her, but she couldn't relax. Her gaze wandered over to the bedroom door where Johanna slept peacefully.

  She feared if she dosed off, Johanna would be in danger. She glanced at the door that led out into the hotel's hallway then to the chair seated beside the couch. She grabbed the chair and pushed it against the door. It wouldn't keep anyone out, but it would warn her if someone attempted to enter. She flipped the security lock into place, too.

  She then headed to the makeshift kitchen and made a pot of coffee, downing the first cup before pouring herself a second, loading this one with cream and sugar.

  She retrieved the Glock from her purse and plopped down in the chair by the lamp to keep vigil. She fingered each of the different bullets then loaded them into the gun. Whoever stalked them… Whatever it was… she had a hunch one of these bullets would bring it down.

  No one would be invited in, welcomed or not.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Sanya dug through her makeup case and grabbed her black eyeliner. She cursed when her hands shook and she couldn't draw a straight line. She hadn't had human blood for almost a week and her body was craving a fix. "Damn, the vampire reject," she threw her eyeliner against the wall. She reverted to her native tongue. Spanish curses flew easily from her mouth as she damned Garran to hell and back.

  "What seems to be the problem, my sweet lassie?"

  She whirled around at the sound of the Scottish brogue. She inhaled sharply. She waited for Alexander at the house he'd rented. All the windows were darkened to ward off direct sunlight, a vampire lair with all the amenities, but she knew Alexander didn't sleep here. His scent didn't linger on anything. "Alexander."

  His fingers tugged at his black gloves, slipping both off before he removed the leather jacket. His broad shoulders and muscled biceps spoke of the warrior he'd once been. He reminded her of Garran in that sense, but that is where the similarities ended. Alexander's face held no lines of age since he'd been turned probably in his early twenties. A beautiful face, some might even call him pretty if his blue eyes weren't like shards of glass ready to cut into you.

  "Were ye expectin' someone else perhaps?" His gaze met hers and she forced down the urge to hug herself. The gesture would make her look weak.

  "No, no of course not." She gave him her best smile and sashayed over to him, hopefully appearing braver than she felt. "I had almost given up hope you'd return here. You've been away for so long." She pouted her lips. "Where have you been?" she dared to ask.

  His hand snaked out, grabbing her hair and twisting the strands around his fingers in a hold she couldn't break. He yanked her head back so her neck was exposed. She gasped in surprise, but didn't shy away or let her fear seep through. She needed to prove her worth by standing up to him. Her survival depended on it.

  He leaned forward, grazing his elongated fangs against her flesh. "I've missed ye, Sanya." His fangs pricked into her skin as if he'd been hungry for a taste of her and couldn't wait a moment longer. He didn't suckle. He bit without taking blood, leaving vampire love bites along her neck and shoulder. His hands did the honor of ripping the bodice of her dress.

  Damn, she liked that dress, but she also liked the way his hands roamed greedily over her. "Yes, oh yes, more," she encouraged.

  He chuckled, a deep growl from his chest. He co
ntinued his assault, his need to consume her set her blood scorching through her veins.

  "You torture me, Alexander." Her fingers pulled at his shirt, working beneath the fabric to rub against his cool skin.

  He took her mouth and pushed her back, slamming her against the wall.

  "Yes, baby, take me. Take me now," she begged, surprised at her own need.

  "Oh, I intend to," he promised.

  He may take a human now and again to slate his perverted tastes, but only a preternatural being could withstand his aggressive nature. Then again, Sanya thought, he probably didn't care if the human survived his assault.

  He moved her hair away and nuzzled her neck. He sunk his teeth into the slender flesh and this time suckled. Before the act could prove erotic, he removed his fangs and spit out her blood as if it were tainted. "Ye taste like a pig, Sanya."

  She let out an exasperating sigh. "I've been drinking pig's blood."

  "Why, when ye live in a city where humans would give their blood willingly?"

  "The bastard MacLaurin demands it," she said, wishing she didn't have to talk. She wanted to enjoy what Alexander was doing to her.

  As if sensing this, Alexander stilled his caresses. He obviously wanted answers first.

  She sighed in frustration. "You know MacLaurin rules Boston and the surrounding cities now, not Franco Meridos. MacLaurin acts as if he's a vampire with sins he needs to atone," she continued. "He's part of those high and mighty beings who lord over the preternatural world and expect everyone to follow the rigid rules set down by the Guards of Judgment. We must ignore our true natures. If anyone defies him, they are subject to punishment." Her chest ached at the reminder.

  Alexander's cold eyes bore into hers. "We'll have to fix that, will we no'?" He didn't wait for her to answer as he drove his fangs into her neck.

  ****

  Later, Sanya leaned near the mirror, inspecting the bite marks on her neck. They were healing, but she needed more blood. Alexander had taken his fill. He probably would have indulged more if she hadn't fed on pig's blood. Maybe that had been a blessing in disguise.

  She hated MacLaurin with a passion, but a vampire knew where they stood with Garran. Alexander had no boundaries. He killed humans and preternatural beings for pleasure and formed no loyalties. Alexander may be good in bed, but she knew she'd be foolish to team up with him on a permanent basis.

  "I'll be back, Sanya." Alexander gripped her shoulders from behind.

  She turned in his arms, a smile forming on her lips. "I would hope so, lover."

  He caressed her face then kissed her with a whispered promise, but he pulled away all too soon. His gaze bore into hers. "No more pig's blood," Alexander warned.

  "What about MacLaurin?"

  "Let me worry about him, hmm."

  "What do you have planned?"

  He eyed her warily. He may want to have his way with her and take her blood, but he obviously didn't trust her enough yet to share his plans. "There's no need for ye to worry, my pet."

  "I'm not worried. If you plan on torturing him, I would love to watch."

  He twirled her dark strands around his finger. "I have something special in mind for Garran MacLaurin." Alexander had beautiful eyes, the cool blue color of marble. She had once seen such eyes in a statue that depicted a saint of some sort in the Church of Our Lord. The Catholics did like their statues. Alexander reminded her of them: perfect, hard, and with eyes that were soulless.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Harrison drove to the spot Garran said he'd meet up with him and cruised at a nice fifteen miles per hour. He was late, but they still had plenty of time before the sun made its cheery appearance.

  A dark figure jumped in front of his vehicle and he slammed on his brakes, bringing the car to a screeching halt. "Bloody friggin' hell."

  His car lights shone on Garran's face. The grin he wore really pissed Harrison off.

  The vampire strode to the passenger side of the car, yanking the door open.

  "You're a wanker, you know that don't you?" Harrison grumbled.

  "Flattery will get ye nowhere. Besides, I thought ye'd appreciate the flair of my arrival."

  "Now you take my advice," he grumbled.

  Garran's low chuckle vibrated from his chest. "How did yer night go?"

  Harrison gave Garran a sideways glance. "I ran into Isabella."

  "Who… ah, aye," he rolled his eyes, "yer human. What was she doin' in Salem?"

  "Taking the same ghost tour I took."

  Garran's left brow arched as his gaze leveled on him. "If ye're seein' the lassie, ye don't have to pretend to meet up with her."

  "You're an eejit. I'm not dating her. She was here with her girlfriend, Johanna."

  "And I need to know this because…"

  "Because Isabella can sense Johanna is infected."

  Garran sat up straighter. "She told ye this?"

  "No, not exactly."

  "So ye're a mind reader now."

  He glanced at Garran as he drove, wishing the vampire would have an opened mind about this. "You refuse to see it."

  "Where did ye leave yer human with the witch-like abilities?"

  "Isabella," Harrison stressed her name, "is back at the hotel with Johanna."

  "Please enlighten me how you came to yer conclusion about the infected human."

  "When we were on the tour, Johanna disappeared. We retraced our steps back to Burying Point Cemetery where we saw Johanna last. I picked up the scent…"

  "…of decay," Garran finished for him.

  "Yes, a scent similar to when flowers in a vase have perished, and you have yet to throw them out, not something centuries old," Harrison clarified.

  "I was at the cemetery, too." Garran recapped his night. "I found a woman unconscious there and thought the Soul Taker had attacked her, but before I could check her mouth, a lassie approached, calling out to me. I hurried away, not wanting to stop my search with endless questions that were sure to entail answers I could no' give."

  "The lass you came across, was Johanna. Isabella must have seen you running away or rather disappearing. She mentioned as much. Did you pick up the Soul Taker's trail at all?"

  "No, but I could sense the bugger. I just cannot understand how he's alluding capture." Disappointment hung on the word. Garran glanced at Harrison. "Where are the lassies now? Maybe they shouldn't be left unprotected."

  "Don't worry, I warned Isabella not to let anyone in. She's spooked enough that I'm sure she'll heed my words.

  "If they're safe then, we should head back to Boston. Sanya may have news for us."

  Chapter Nineteen

  Sanya slipped into the booth where Garran and Harrison were seated. Garran decided on Tony's Pub since Sanya frequented the bar often. He wanted her to keep to the same routine so not to alert the Soul Taker.

  "Well?" Garran asked as soon as she was seated.

  "Give us all the details and don't hold back." Harrison said, impatience lacing his words.

  She lifted one lovely dark brow. "All the details?"

  "Keep it clean, Sanya," Garran warned. "I have no wish to hear about yer perverted escapades."

  "Prude." She pouted her lips. "Fine, suit yourself." She leaned close and ran her long fingernail down the side of his jaw. "You can imagine how tantalizing making love can be. You do remember it, don't you, Garran? Your nether parts didn't fall off from lack of use, have they?"

  Harrison stifled a chuckle behind his fist. Garran glared at him and he recovered his control.

  "Sanya, I am a patient man." Garran ignored her harrumph. "Do not waste my time. Ye know what—"

  "Fine," she interrupted. "Alexander wants your head. Okay?" She eyed Garran and chuckled. "You must have pissed him off big time. He says he has something special planned for you and I have a hunch, it's not a surprise party you'll want to attend."

  "Oh, goody, you just told us something we didn't know," Harrison said as he clapped his hands.

  Sanya threw
him a dirty look.

  Garran ignored both of their antics. "Do ye know where he's stayin'?"

  "He's rented out a place, but it's just for show. Wherever he holes up during the day, he hasn't told me." She patted her hair before she smoothed her hands down her skintight dress. "We do have a date tomorrow night. He promised me a night on the town."

  "Aye, I bet," Garran said.

  Her red lips turned down in a pout. "Why are you so mean, Garran? You once coveted this body." Her hands slid down her sides, making sure her hands hovered near her breasts that were on the verge of spilling over the neckline.

  "That was before I knew everyone else did, too."

  She snarled, baring her fangs.

  Garran lifted a hand. "Settle down. Ye knew we didn't belong together as much as I did."

  She sat back in her seat. "Soul mate," she said with a curse, but she let the matter go. "By the way, for this to work with Alexander, I need to drink human blood."

  Garran shook his head. "Humans are off limits."

  "If he comes back and I smell like pig, he'll be suspicious. He doesn't like it."

  Garran pursed his lips together. "Fine. I'll see what I can do."

  Harrison's gaze riveted to him in disbelief, but he remained silent.

  "Go, Sanya. Be a good lassie."

  She stood and leaned down showing off her cleavage as she kissed the side of his cheek. "I'm always good, baby." She turned and walked away, swaying her full hips.

  "Man, the woman is lethal," Harrison blew out his breath. He glanced at Garran. "You're going to give her human blood? Isn't that playing with fire?"

  "I can get my hands on synthetic blood. It smells like human blood, taste like it too, except for the aftertaste. Gives me heartburn."

  Harrison shifted his gaze to where Sanya sidled up to the bar to flirt with a werejaguar. "Do you trust what she told us?"

  "She puts on a good show, Harrison, but she's afraid of the Soul Taker. The vampire septs are as different as each of the were clans are, but we do have one thing in common. Vampires don't like to be threatened. Sanya may no' like me, but she knows I'll keep my word. She'll work with us."