Keir is right about my doubts. I’ve seen the mistreatment of the soulhunters by the high angels—the soulhunters following their duty above all else, believing their freedom can be returned, but that never happening in my time as a hunter. Before I met Keir, doubts had edged in that something was wrong. Why else would the high angels be so secretive?
Keir laid out an answer to the question I refused to ask myself. What happens to the souls I collect?
I push hair from my eyes. “I can’t help you even if I did believe what you’re doing is the right thing. I’d be signing my own death warrant.”
Keir shifts his jacket closer around himself. “You signed your death warrant the day you chose to become a soulhunter. You need to decide who to believe and which cause is the one worth dying for.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
What the hell am I doing here? Blood whooshes in my ears as Keir holds the demon on the concrete floor, face down. The creature writhes against Keir’s fierce grip, snarling in a demonic language I’ve heard many times before.
The times I stole back human souls.
Demons disguise themselves as humans well, but this one betrays signs of its true self through more than just demonic yellow eyes. Beneath shaggy black hair, two small bumps protrude near the front of its head, barely visible but enough to prove this creature isn’t a teenage boy.
“Ava?” Keir concentrates on restraining the demon as I watch, frozen with indecision.
An old mattress rests against the wall in one corner of the litter-strewn room and the smell of rotting garbage pervades the derelict house. Again, how am I here?
With him.
Doing this.
After my talk with Keir, I spent another week in isolation. He returned to his distance as I travel alone in the world, fighting feelings for the guy I’m supposed to kill. His words about freeing souls loop around my mind, feeding on my deepest doubts.
This is why I couldn’t find malevolence in his eyes the first night by the fountain. Every demon I’d killed, before Keir, exuded an evil aura, and Keir didn’t. Now I understand why—whatever demon lives inside Keir is controlled by his fervent crusade.
My nights are filled with dreams of Keir, replays of everything that happened between us. Each morning I wake a little more convinced—each day a greater need to seek him out for more information.
I can’t get my head around Keir’s explanation of what souls are. I’ve never read or heard a story like his but the words add more fuel to my hidden doubts. Admitting this to myself and fighting against my indoctrination are bloody hard. The longer I’m away from my world, the more distant the reality, and the more logical Keir’s arguments sound.
As the days pass, I grow to believe his words. Souls seek freedom.
Look at Darius, the high angels, and how they treat people. Am I helping a war by handing souls to be enslaved? Keir may not be lying about the army the angels are creating.
If this is true, the high angels are no better than demon lords, and I’m no better than a demon.
I’ve failed anyway. After many weeks without successfully carrying out my mission, Darius must be a heartbeat away from dragging my ass out of here. I need to make a decision before one is made for me.
I made one.
I challenged a surprised Keir to release a soul with me present. If I put myself in the situation, I’ll act on gut instinct at the moment the soul leaves the body. Kill Keir, or help.
“Ava? Come on!” Keir’s knuckles whiten as he grips the demon’s neck, a damp patch spreading beneath the shirt across his broad back.
“Where will the soul go if I don’t take it?”
“I’m not taking the soul if that’s what you’re implying. The soul will be free to choose its own destiny, out of this war.”
My sheathed dagger rests against my hip and the crystal ready to hold a soul nestles in my pocket. A picture of Darius’s face crossed my mind as I prepared earlier this evening, and I almost backed out. In front of me is my new choice. Keir’s vulnerable as he concentrates on the creature. I could take his soul. Now.
I take a step toward Keir and the demon.
“Soulhunter?” The demon coughs into the dirt. “Working with a nephilim? You really do want to go to Hell don’t you?”
I halt. “What does it mean?”
Keir holds the creature’s face against the floor, sweat beading across his forehead. “The demon is trying to trick you. Kill it—I can’t hold it here all night.”
“You trust the nephilim boy? Ha!” snarls the demon.
Keir increases his pressure on the demon’s neck. “She trusts me over you.”
Do I? Shit, what do I do here? My soulhunter instincts goad me into attacking Keir. This is my chance to kill both of them. Squeezing my eyes shut, I shake the thought away. Fighting Keir and the demon at the same time? Yeah, great move. Like that wouldn’t leave me dead on the floor.
I take another step and pause again.
“Do you just want me to kill it? Walk away from this and go back to your old role?” Keir growls.
“It’s not that easy, Keir.”
“It is, just slash its bloody throat!” Keir’s face reddens as he struggles with the demon.
“Help me instead, soulhunter,” begs the demon, twisting its head to look at me. “I’ll help you kill him. Gladly.”
Keir pushes the demon’s face back into the dirt. “Are you playing me, Ava? Is this a trick to weaken my position? Because I’ve told you, if we fight, you won’t win.”
The demon lifts its head again. “He’s fighting a losing battle—you both are. Help me take the nephilim out and you’ll make a lot of friends amongst my kind and…”
My stomach turns. Help demons? A race who killed my friends? Sarah’s face appears in my mind’s eyes. No fucking way. I unsheathe my dagger and launch myself at the demon. A look of uncertainty flickers across Keir’s face as he sees the blade, but I slash with the knife, dragging the shining metal blade across the demon’s throat. Thick, black blood spills to the floor and pools along the ground toward Keir’s boots.
Time halts as I catch sight of the grey mist snaking into the air above the demon’s body. I curl a hand around the crystal in my pocket, urged on. Catch the soul.
I’m pulled to my duty. The strange cloud over the demon’s head levitates, temptingly close and my head buzzes with fear and confusion. I’m a hunter of lost souls—I can’t let one go. Reality drifts out of focus and Keir catches my arm as I sway. The warmth of his touch pulls me away from the surreal situation to the reality in front of me.
Keir. I take a side-glance at him. He’s fixated on the soul, his full mouth curved into a smile. I could pull the dagger from the demon and kill him. This is my chance to capture his soul and succeed.
But something has shifted. He isn’t only a target anymore. He’s Keir. He told me the truth, something nobody has since I left the Fated and became a soulhunter two years ago. The connection we share beneath our distrust drew me into believing in him. Into wanting him.
Killing Keir stopped being an option weeks ago.
The cloud shoots toward the window and spreads through the cracks in the sill until only Keir, me, and the corpse of the demon remain.
I fall to my knees, into the pool of sticky blood, chest aching as if part of me was sucked out of the room with the soul. I bury my face in my knees to hide, but a sob escapes my throat. Useless, stupid tears. I look up at the corpse and the enormity of what I’ve done flows down my cheeks.
Keir can’t see me like this. Nobody sees me like this.
Then Keir is on his knees in front of me. His rough hands cup my wet cheeks as he pulls my head up. His eyes. Soft and blue, the violet specks beautiful. Calming.
“You did the right thing.” He holds my head so I can’t look away from him. “You saved a soul. We saved a soul. Imagine what we could do together, how many souls we could help.”
His words wash over me. “They’re going to kill me
. Darius. Angels.” Blood drains from my head, and Keir’s face grows hazy in front of my eyes.
He shakes his head and wipes a tear away with his thumb. “No, I’ll keep you safe.”
“It’s over… why did I do it? I don’t know why I did it… they’re going to kill me…” I half shout the words gasping, and Keir pulls my head to him, deadening my cries against his hard chest.
Keir strokes my hair, and my breathing quiets. He moves to place his lips on my cheeks, the shock of his touch stilling me. “You did the right thing. In here you know it.” Keir put his palm on my chest, hand over my heart. “We can make such a difference.”
He moves his lips to mine; his gentle mouth spreading calm through my shaking body. I wrap my arms around his neck and fall further from my old life in the comfort of Keir’s embrace.
I’ve taken a step too far and fallen into an unknown future. Fallen into Keir.
Chapter Thirty
The world continues to spin in and out of focus. What the hell am I doing in Dahlia’s room? I run my hand along the cotton sheets on Dahlia’s bed to ground myself. All I remember is Keir helping me away from the scene of my crime, and the night air hitting my damp face, chilling me into reality. A reality where Darius, or someone he employs, could lurk around the next corner, waiting.
In possibly the weirdest thing that’s happened all evening, Dahlia hands me a large glass of red wine. “Here, calm your nerves.”
I stare at the glass, unable to face drinking. I’m dreaming, why else would Dahlia be nice?
Dahlia pours herself wine and sits in the chair at her desk. “I didn’t think you’d do it, Ava,” she says with a sideways glance at Keir.
Keir leans against the wall, arms crossed. He still wears the darker jeans and black T-shirt from hunting, his hands stained with black blood. Darker clothes give him an edge—the guy looks bloody hot at the best of times, but in kill mode he sends a new thrill through me.
“I knew she would,” he says, with a strange mix of pride and awe in his softened eyes.
“I wasn’t sure,” I reply. My hesitation. The demon’s words about Hell. How close I came to attacking Keir. “Is this what you did?” I ask Dahlia. “Helped Keir free a soul? Is this why you’re not a soulhunter anymore?”
Dahlia takes a long drink from her glass. “No, I’ve never freed a soul on my own. Only helped Keir.”
“I don’t understand. I thought that was why you… Isn’t your human form punishment?”
“No. I chose to leave.”
“You don’t have to talk about this now, Dahlia,” says Keir quietly. “Ava doesn’t need to know the details.”
“I want to tell her. So she can understand why I made my choice. I want you to see her reaction and ask yourself would Ava ever do the same.”
Keir turns his face away, a muscle twitching in his cheek. Dahlia’s eyes hold tears threatening to spill. Shit, I can’t take anymore tonight. Releasing souls, and now Dahlia, the girl who treats me like a sworn enemy, wants to tell me more secrets. Share emotions? I’ve enough of my own to deal with.
Chose? “You don’t have to tell me, Dahlia.”
Dahlia drains her wine glass. “I wasn’t sent for Keir’s soul if that’s what you think. I was just an average soulhunter. I killed demons, took their souls back, rinse and repeat. No special missions for me. Then I met Jack. A human guy.” She pauses, running her finger around the rim of the wine glass. “It’s impossible to explain and you probably won’t understand, but I fell in love with him.”
“With a human?” I blurt. Keir throws me a look and I pull back my disgust. “Oh. Um. I mean, that’s weird.”
Dahlia ignores me. “I couldn’t imagine life without him. Even if they gave me my freedom, my life would be empty without Jack. I can’t explain why, I hated humans too. Still do.” She pours more wine into her glass. “But I chose to stay here. With him.”
Dahlia’s story tumbles out, the bare minimum spoken in a factual tone. Facts as big as the world itself.
“You can do that? Choose to stay?” My skin crawls. She wasn’t forced to be human, but chose? “Where is he? Jack?”
Dahlia pulls open a drawer by her desk, and takes out a small silver frame. She hands the picture to me. A scruffy-haired guy with a cheeky grin looks at the camera, his arm around a girl with long brown hair. The girl in the image smiles too, looking up at the guy, vibrant and happy. I peer closer. Is this Dahlia, the sad, quiet girl I know?
“He’s gone,” says Dahlia, touching his face through the glass.
What the hell? He left her? Dahlia scarified everything for a human and he fucking left her. When a tear drips down Dahlia’s nose onto the frame, I shift and empty my wine glass in one gulp. I need to leave. This isn’t my business, and I’m not one for doling out sympathy.
“He died,” says Keir quietly.
“What the fuck?” I ask. “What do you mean he died?”
Dahlia wipes her eyes with a sleeve. “I was wrong, Keir. I don’t think I can talk about this, not now.” She places the frame face down on the desk and opens her laptop; her shoulders slumped.
Unwanted sympathy creeps in for the mean girl. The one whose heart and life were torn apart. Dahlia retreated into her own world, losing herself in her sadness, becoming the quiet, shy mouse. How does she cope with being human? She lost everything for a pitiful life. Dahlia gave up everything, and now she’s alone in this world.
Apart from Keir. No wonder she hates me edging closer to him.
I stand. “I understand you can’t talk about this. I should go too. Busy day and all that. I need to sleep.”
“Go with her, Keir, make sure she’s okay.”
I blink at Dahlia’s words. Keir holds a hand to Dahlia’s face and tenderly brushes a tear from her cheek. She turns her head away. “Don’t. I’m fine.”
I bite down jealousy. Dahlia and Keir’s relationship appears platonic to the rest of the world, but seeing the affectionate way Keir treats Dahlia suggests more. Did he step in and fill the hole left by Jack? If he did, what’s Keir’s motive with me? Omigod. Was I played tonight?
“I have to go,” I say. “It’s late.”
Keir follows me through the door and grabs my arm before I can hurry away. He spins me around.
“I want to come with you tonight, but my friend needs me. She shouldn’t have spoken to you about Jack. It’s only been a year, and Dahlia hasn’t come to terms with what happened.”
“Were you involved?” I ask.
Keir’s face darkens. “I was there and the situation was… partly my fault. I have a responsibility to help her now.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t want to talk about Jack, Ava,” he says in a low voice.
“I think you should stay with Dahlia.”
Keir reaches out a hand and traces his fingertips across my lips then presses his mouth on mine—the briefest of touches melting the doubt. “Do you feel safe?”
I allow him to place his arms around me and tuck my head under his chin. I’m terrified what will happen on the short walk to my room, of what could wait for me in the dark.
Something else worries me. “You and Dahlia…” I begin.
“There is no me and Dahlia in that way, Ava,” Keir cups my face in his hands and my image is reflected in the glacial blue of his eyes. “She’s not the annoying but impossibly sexy girl I’ve wanted ever since she first pretended to bump into me.”
He grins and I return a weak smile. Weeks ago, but an age ago. I’m no longer that girl and never will be again.
“The girl who’s more like me than she realises,” he says, as if talking to himself. He kisses me on the forehead and releases my hand one finger at a time, giving the last one a tiny squeeze as he lets go.
Keir walks back into Dahlia’s room, leaving an emptiness in my evening as large as the hole that tonight knocked into my life.
Chapter Thirty-One
I snap my eyes open, and the events of the previo
us evening sharpen into rainbow brilliance. Demon. Keir. I let a soul go free.
My night was disturbed by voices of students tripping down the hallway to bed as I waited for somebody to come for me. Exhaustion eventually overcame the fear, but my dreams filled with images of the soul floating into the air, in reach of my fingers, then vanishing.
The dreams morph into something dark chasing me toward Keir who holds a dagger out to me, and I’m not sure if he is helping or killing me. I wake up more afraid than before I slept. Am I in danger from both him and the angels now? I reach beneath my pillow, the metal of the dagger warm against my hand. I’m fully clothed, ready.
How long do I have before Darius retrieves me? Someone, somewhere knows, and consequences must be hours away.
Keir said he’d protect me, but his decision not to accompany me back to my room—not even to see if I arrived safely—contradicts this. This morning, his caring words sound empty in my mind; not backed up by action. Keir doesn’t give a crap. Not really.
This uncomfortable feeling dogs me all through class, through the morning, and onto my shift at the coffee shop.
Especially when Dahlia and Keir don’t show for any lessons.
He has tricked me. The other soulhunters—he never killed them. He manipulated them the way he has me and kept blood off his hands. He’s guaranteed my death at the hands of the high angles. I seduce demons into doing what I want and Keir’s done the same to me. How am I this bloody stupid?
Customers distract me from unwanted thoughts as I juggle orders and cups. My customer service skills suck at the best of times, but today I’m preoccupied to the point regular customers ask if I’m okay. Wow, humans have noticed, and they are bothered about me.
“Large flat white and a chat when you’re done.”
I look up sharply as I recognise the voice. “Zach.”
Soulhunter Academy Page 14