Her Soul to Take (Souls Trilogy)

by Harley Laroux

  Then he pressed a second finger inside my ass, and I whimpered at the stretch. He bit down on my shoulder, growling gutturally as his hips moved eagerly against me. “Leon, please...please...fuck…” My begging was aimless; they were the only words I felt capable of forming. I nudged my hips back against him, encouraging his fingers deeper. The digits spread, tight as they worked to relax me.

  “Oh, does my toy want more? A little more pain?” He pressed deeper and I groaned, his fingers slowly pulling in and out of me. “Little humans like you want to play rough but it’s so easy to break you. You tell me if it’s too much, understand?”

  “Yes,” I managed to gasp. “Yes, please —”

  Suddenly he lifted me up onto my hands and knees. He gripped my hair as he probed me again, pressing into my ass far easier than he had the first time.

  “Your ass is mine from now on, Raelynn,” he said. “Mine. I’m going to fill that tight little hole up with my cum, you hear me?”

  “Fuck...yes,” I groaned again as his fingers left, to be replaced with the thick, terrifying head of his cock up against my entrance. I began to gasp, the sheer anticipation making me shake. He eased me up, holding me tight, so I was on my knees leaning back against him with his cock poised to enter me.

  He kissed my neck, and whispered, “Shh, shh, little doll. Catch your breath. Are you ready?”

  I took several long, slow breaths. My hands were shaking at my sides, my legs were trembling, my body a flooded mess of endorphins. He left more kisses up my neck, across my jaw, and turned my face to take my mouth. I wanted to cry — not from pain but from the intensity, from the rush of it all — and a few tears made their escape as our mouths parted.

  “I’m ready,” I whispered.

  He took his time entering me, and damn did I need it. I’d played with small anal plugs before; they were nothing in comparison to him. He barely got the first ridge of his head in before I was tapping his leg, squirming. He held me there, soothing me, a gentle monster despite all the viciousness.

  Deeper — tighter — slowly he filled me completely. He curled his body over mine, arms tight around me, one hand holding my face in a grip that was half tender and half brutal. He tipped my head back, so it rested against his shoulder, and my back arched.

  “All mine, fuck doll,” he whispered, moving inside me. My eyes fluttered shut, and his hand caressed down my body, tucked between my legs and massaged my clit. “All mine.”

  He fucked into me slowly but deep. The touch of his hand wound me tighter, the pleasure clenching my muscles until I squeezed around him, and his pace grew rougher. I was stunned I could fit him, stunned I could take it — and he was going to make me come again from fucking my ass.

  “Come on my cock, doll,” he commanded. “Come for me.”

  My orgasm wasn’t an explosion but a massacre — it shattered inside me and had me crying, breathless, shaking as my arousal dripped down my legs. He held me so tight I couldn’t move an inch. I could only kneel there, bound up in his arms, my body overwhelming me.

  Fuck doll. His fuck doll. It was the only thought left. I was floating in darkness, swaddled in sin, vibrating with the wicked culmination of my fantasies coming to life. He was rough now, my muscles loosened enough to take it. When his cock began to throb in my ass, I could feel every pulsation.

  The way he moaned before he came inside me was easily the hottest thing I’d ever heard. I melted into him as he swelled hot inside me. I reached back with a shaking hand, finding the hair at the nape of his neck and gripping, as if I’d never let go, as if I could keep him there forever.

  Leon laid me out on the couch and left me there, but I could hear him moving somewhere in the house. Cabinets softly closing, the creak of floorboards, a burbling sound like boiling water. In high school, there had been a brief period of time where I’d thought I would get into track and field, but even then, even after my most intense training, I hadn’t been so utterly drained. Every last ounce of energy in me had been leached away, my limbs were limp and capable of nothing more than the occasional twitch.

  He’d meant it when he said he’d destroy me. He’d done exactly that. I was sore, high on the afterglow, eyes half-lidded as I lay there and stared at the coffee table. I’d never be able to look at that thing the same way again.

  It was my sacrificial altar, the shrine on which I’d offered up my sins to a demon to eat.

  “Raelynn.”

  I jumped half-way into a sitting position, only to groan at the head rush it gave me. I hadn’t even heard him approach. He’d dressed, and as I leaned back on the couch, he held out a plate and a steaming mug.

  “Tea and cookies?” I took it as he offered them, blinking rapidly in shock. He’d made my favorite mint tea — not that he could have possibly known it was my favorite — and stacked three chocolate chip cookies on the plate.

  He sunk down on the opposite side of the couch, looking wearier than I’d ever seen him. Our fuckfest must have taken the last of his strength; even the golden glow of his eyes was dulled. “You’ve lost a lot of calories, sweated out vital nutrients. You may experience minor shock symptoms from the adrenaline.” He sighed heavily, waving his hand as if it should have been obvious. “If I’d known you hadn’t eaten anything yet today…”

  I frowned around a mouthful of cookie. He was absolutely right, of course. I was shaky, and my stomach was churning with hunger pains. “How do you know I haven’t eaten?”

  I didn’t get an answer. When I glanced up at him again, his head had nodded down to his chest and he was fast asleep, breathing slowly.

  Damn. I guess I’d destroyed him too.

  Leon never would have admitted it, but it was obvious to me — he’d pushed himself to his limit. I didn’t know how many of those Eld beasts were out there, but he’d killed three and fought off even more. His mysterious demon powers didn’t heal wounds instantly, and his injuries were alarming, to say the least. Running around with wounds like that wasn’t healthy, demon or not.

  But now I had a demon sleeping on my couch. It was either a paranormal investigator’s wet dream or worst nightmare. After I eased him down onto a pillow and threw a blanket over him, I did what any proper investigator would: I got out my camera. I snapped photos of his claws, the black veins still barely visible in his arms, the slight point to his ears that I hadn’t noticed before beneath his hair.

  He was softer in his sleep. The monstrous energy with which he carried himself was calm. Despite the claws, he somehow seemed more human than ever. Quiet. Vulnerable.

  Vulnerable. Ha. As if he actually was. I couldn’t let myself underestimate him: not even weakened, not even sleeping.

  I had no doubt my invasive recording would have pissed him off. But I was literally dealing with an entirely unknown humanoid species in my living room. Could I really be blamed?

  Out in the yard, I zoomed in on the disgusting heads Leon had speared around the perimeter. Good God, I could only hope Inaya didn’t decide to stop by unannounced. It may have been the beginning of October, but even under the guise of Halloween decor, the skeletal heads were alarming. Their smell bizarrely wasn’t as bad as when they were alive, but a moldy, rotten aroma still lingered around them.

  Who could I possibly show these videos to? A priest? A demonologist? Cryptozoologist? I knew fellow Youtubers who would be fascinated by them, but I didn’t need to inspire fascination. I needed help that didn’t require selling my soul.

  Once again, my thoughts went back to the Hadleighs.

  Was Leon really lying when he told me they were my enemies? I kept trying to remind myself not to underestimate him, that surely a demon would be out for himself above all else, but that was getting harder to keep believing. He’d played to every masochistic fantasy I had, but not once had I felt unsafe. I trusted him — but I somehow still doubted him.

  After all, his bargain was still the barrier between me and being guaranteed his protection. At the end of the day, he was pursuing
me for his own ends.

  The Hadleighs were my only other possible link to help.

  Leon slept through the rest of the day and into the night, not stirring even when I cooked dinner and put on the TV. He remained curled up under the blanket, still as stone except for his occasional slow breathes. Cheesecake, despite my best efforts to stop him, hopped up on the couch and promptly made himself comfortable against his new demon best friend, kneading the blanket with loud purrs before he curled up against Leon’s side.

  Having him down there made me feel safer as I climbed into bed, but I still spent a few minutes staring out the bedroom window through the curtains, watching the trees. The crickets were singing, the night was empty. Maybe those heads really would keep the Eld away.

  I lay in bed with my music playing softly until sleep finally took over. The darkness behind my eyelids deepened until consciousness was right on the cusp of slipping away…

  “Lawson.”

  The voice was deep, masculine — unfamiliar. I paused, unsure what I’d even been doing that required me to stop and listen. It was cold. Almost completely dark. The smell of damp earth was heavy in the air, the strong mineral aroma of wet rocks making it difficult to breathe.

  Where was I?

  “Lawson. This way.”

  I turned. I was staring down a long, narrow tunnel. The ceiling was low, and a series of wood and metal tracks were laid out on the ground — as if for a cart of some kind.

  Far at the end of the tunnel, a little light glowed. It seemed to float in the air as the voice called again, “Move it, Lawson. Boss says we’re heading down to the new level.”

  Dread knotted up in my stomach, but I couldn’t be sure why. I trudged forward, my body feeling heavy and clumsy, unfamiliar. I looked down — leather boots, stiff jeans, some kind of thick overalls —

  I wasn’t me...this wasn’t me...this wasn’t my body.

  I followed the light, bouncing slowly ahead of me. I could just barely see the outline of the man who held it: big, bearded, a pickaxe looped through his belt and tapping at his leg as he walked.

  “Ya’ know that level ain’t stable.” My tongue moved, my voice produced that sound but – it wasn’t my voice. It was gruff, deep and unfamiliar. “Smells down there too. Like dead fish.”

  “Leighman don’t care about that now, does he?” The voice ahead chuckled. “He’ll be down there today. Thinks the boys found a new vein. All hands on it.”

  The tunnel was coming to an end. A structure of bare wooden boards was suspended over a deep, dark shaft, and the man I was following stepped onto it, the wood groaning under his weight. I couldn’t stop my own feet; I was merely along for the ride as I stepped onto the platform beside him. My stomach sank at the knowledge of what lay below — nothing but deep, endless darkness.

  The ancient elevator jolted as my companion yanked back a lever. “Down we go.”

  Down...down...down. In my peripheral, the man stood silently. I desperately wanted to see his face, but it was too deep in shadow. “Ain’t got a good feeling about today, Kynes.”

  He nodded. “Aye. I’m with ye’.”

  He lifted his lantern a little higher, and finally, my head turned. But instead of a face, the man who stood beside me in the lift was utterly blank. No eyes. No mouth. No nose. Nothing. As if his flesh was clay, smoothed over and forgotten.

  I wanted to scream. I wasn’t supposed to be here. This was all wrong. Dreaming...yes, of course, I had to be dreaming, I had to be —

  Something cold hit my face, and I looked up. Water...water was dripping from above...and the smell of brine, of stagnant sea water, of fish lying beached in the sun —

  I awoke with a jolt, gasping, trying to gulp down enough air to fight off the sensation of drowning. I was lying in bed, the pale light of day spilling in the gap in my curtains. I got up shakily to push the curtains back, my bare feet cold on the floor as I looked out on a rainy morning.

  It was just a dream. It had only been a dream.

  Then why had it felt like a memory?

  I agreed to meet up with Inaya and Victoria for lunch over the weekend. Leon was still sleeping like the dead, and it felt odd to leave him alone at home. I wasn’t sure if it was normal for a demon to sleep for so long, but I wasn’t going to try waking him up. Victoria was running late, so Inaya and I got a table at a little cafe serving Sunday brunch, a corner seat near the window where we could watch the rain.

  “We should watch Midsommar,” Inaya said, as we sipped mimosas and planned our next movie night. “Or maybe we should start with some classics and go for The Exorcist.”

  “You know I’m always down for Friedkin’s genius,” I said. The mimosas here were bottomless: lucky for me, because I’d already entirely downed one. I was restless, and a little desperate, and I’d hoped getting out of the house would help, but it hadn’t done much yet. “We could get wine drunk and watch Hocus Pocus after.”

  “Oooh, yes, girl, I’ll bring this new Pinot I tried. It’s so good. It’s honestly a crime I haven’t come over for a visit yet. I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t you dare apologize,” I laughed. “The place has been a mess anyway.” A mess...besieged by monsters, currently hosting a sleeping demon...yeah, it wasn’t fit for visitors. I was still contemplating if I should insist on having the movie night at her apartment — considering I had no idea when Leon would wake up. Or leave. Or…

  If I even wanted him to leave.

  She was scrolling through a list of horror films on her phone, trying to come up with one that I hadn’t already seen. I let my eyes relax, staring off into the hazy rain outside. I envied Leon for being able to sleep for days straight; I needed to sleep for that long. People ran by, hoods up, shoes sloshing in the growing puddles. I loved watching the rain, but the grey day made me sleepier than ever.

  The clouds above were thick and dark, as if a thunderstorm was brewing. They were moving rapidly, swirling and coiling like steam pouring off dry ice.

  Inaya was speaking again, but her voice was fading in and out. There was something strange about the clouds. I’d never seen clouds move like that. They were so dark, almost black. The pale glow of lighting flashed behind them, but in the illumination, I realized those dark gray coils weren’t clouds at all.

  They were tentacles: massive, thick tentacles moving through the clouds.

  Suddenly, it was as if my head was being squeezed. Every beat of my heart felt too hard, too slow. I wanted to look away. I wanted to close my eyes. The sensation of drowning was burning through my lungs, as if my dream from last night was trying to yank me back in. The smell of damp earth, salty brine, rot — panic tightened in my chest.

  Beyond the clouds, beyond the dark tentacles, the vague silhouette of something truly, incomprehensibly massive was moving.

  “Hey! Raelynn!”

  I gasped, and Inaya jerked back in surprise. She’d grabbed my arm across the table, and it had snapped me out of my weird hallucinations. The sky looked normal. No tentacles. No silhouette. Nothing but the sound of the rain and dark, thick cloud cover.

  Inaya was staring at me with a wide, worried gaze.

  “What the hell just happened?” She reached across the table for my forehead, her hand cool against my skin. “Are you sick? You were shaking and your eyes were twitching.”

  “I’m fine,” I said softly, pulling off my glasses and rubbing my eyes as if I could somehow push the memory from my head. That massive shape...it made me feel sick to remember, as if my body was rejecting the idea of something so wrong existing on earth. “I just, uhm…”

  “Helloooo, ladies!” Victoria walked up to the table. “Sorry I was so late, ugh, more family drama.” She sat next to me, giving me a quick hug. She tucked her pink Coach bag onto the seat between us, and slid a Tupperware container onto the table. “Did you order yet? Oooh my God, mimosas, yes! I need a whole tub of that shit.” She began to wave her hand for the waiter, snapping her fingers as she urged him over.

>   I’d never hallucinated before. I’d never experienced terror that felt so consuming. Perhaps it had been a panic attack, or a waking nightmare. Maybe the stress of all this was getting to me more than I thought.

  Or maybe Leon hadn’t been lying. Maybe there really was a god in the mine. Because that horror, that thing I’d seen in the clouds, was the closest thing to a god I could imagine.

  “Rae,” Inaya was still staring at me, her voice seemingly the only solid lifeline I had to reality.

  Victoria looked between us curiously. “What’s wrong? What did I miss?”

  “It’s nothing,” I said softly. “Hungry, I think. I zoned out. I’m fine.”

  The expression on Inaya’s face made it obvious she didn’t believe me.

  “Well, let’s get some food in you then, girl! Here, you two can be my critics.” Victoria pulled the lid off her Tupperware, revealing chocolate cupcakes within. Each one was beautifully decorated, with sparkles of purple edible glitter and little candy ghosts. “I’m going to make a bunch for the Halloween party, but I wanted to try out the recipe first. Are they boozy enough? They’re bourbon chocolate maple.”

  It was hands-down one of the best cupcakes I’d ever eaten. I knew it was a ridiculous judgment of character, but I didn’t feel like a death cult member would be baking delicious cupcakes for her friends. Was I really supposed to believe that Victoria worshipped some ancient God? Or Jeremiah? Or even Mr. Hadleigh?

  My vision of an evil cult just didn’t mesh with this family.

  “These are so good,” Inaya gushed. “And there will be plenty of booze at the party, girl; you don’t need to get anyone drunk off cupcakes too.”

  “Rae, consider this your formal invitation if I haven’t invited you already.” Victoria smiled brightly. “I honestly can’t remember who I’ve invited and who I haven’t. Like, half the campus will be there.”