The Lost Soul Trilogy (Primani Book 5) (85 page)

“Come on, babe, come back to me now. It’s okay. We’re safe.”

Killian.

Another male voice rumbled against my ear. “You know you’re naked, right?”

Blinking, I sputtered and tried to sit up. Slurring my words, I managed to say, “Naked?”

Killian reached out and steadied me. He gave Rivin a dirty look and snapped, “You have a big mouth, Rivin!” To me, he said calmly, “You’re covered up; he’s just messing with you.”

I was covered in a blanket. Clutching it against my chest, I asked, “What happened?”

“Vampires,” Rivin announced with disgust. He looked extremely put out by the whole thing. “Fucking unnatural, foul creatures.” He spit on the ground for emphasis.

“Vampires? Are you kidding me?”

“Maybe.”

Killian gave Rivin a censorious stare and reached for my hand. “I think you should give me that now.”

Following his glance, I was stunned.

I was still clenching the Primani blade under my heart, my knuckles were white and blood was seeping between my fingers. “What happened? I remember them coming…they were screaming…and…and…”

“It’s over now. Don’t cry, baby.” He pulled me against him and squeezed me. I was shaking so hard the blanket was twitching. “I’ve got you.”

“I’ll just…go…somewhere for a minute,” Rivin mumbled and turned his back.

Killian laid the palm of his hand against the rune on my chest and leaned his forehead against mine. Gently, the soft flow of his
saol
slid through my chest sending trickles of heat and lethargy through my body. My panicky mind settled as he whispered into my ear.

“Serenity, Mica; find your strength.”

The hypnotic sound of his voice and irresistible pulse of his power lulled my senses, calmed my racing heart. Brushing my tears away with the pad of his thumb, he pulled me against him and held me tightly.

“You’ll never have to use that knife! Do you hear me? I’ll protect you. Always.” He lifted my palm and healed the long gash.

“For eternity?”

He kissed my palm and muttered, “If I have anything to say about it.”

Rivin approached with averted eyes. He cleared his throat and said, “Hate to interrupt, but I think we should go back and get our stuff before we can’t get into the house. They’ll send more when the others report in.”

“How did we end up here?” I asked. Realizing I was holding a t-shirt too, I added, “Whose shirt is this?”

Rivin held out a hand and said, “It’s mine, lass. I was trying to help. You don’t need it now, so give it back. It’s a bit nippily out here.”

Killian threw the shirt in his face and waited while I secured the blanket like a toga. “When they attacked, you went catatonic and we couldn’t protect you and fight off the attack at the same time. There were too many to leave Rivin alone, so we grabbed you and left. It was close; too close. One of them was halfway inside the window just as we faded. You’re lucky you were holding that blanket or you would’ve been naked sitting here.”

He was trying for a light tone, but it still fell a little flat. He didn’t like any exits to be ‘close.’

Rivin’s teeth gleamed in the darkness. “You’ve got nice tits, by the way, love.”

Killian’s fist connected with his eye and he landed on his butt with a heavy grunt. Killian warned, “I’m going to kill you one of these days, and nobody will blame me.”

Rivin rubbed his face and said, “What did I say? It was a compliment! They’re lovely!”

Wanting to spare me the sight of the house, Rivin went back alone and put our things in the McLaren. He drove it a few miles to the main highway to meet us. Killian and I rematerialized just as he pulled up. Diving inside, I had just enough time to sit down before we were roaring down the road. Rivin teleported off with his backpack slung across his shoulder. Faint sounds of screaming drifted on the wind and Killian gunned the gas and shifted gears. The car took off like a rocket. Completely aware of the screaming that trailed along behind us, he drove single-mindedly while I got dressed. I caught a glimpse of his face as we roared by another car. He was deadly serious. His eyes watched for physical dangers; his mind scanned for incoming attacks.

Finally, I turned to him and said, “Vampires? Was he serious?”

His lips curled into a ghost of a smile and he said, “What? You believe in demons, but you don’t believe in
vampires
?”

“Not normally, no. It’s just too cliché.”

“You’re getting cynical, babe.” He relaxed and unclenched his knuckles. “I like it.”

Plattsburgh, New York:

IF THIS WAS HELL, why was he so cold? He’d always assumed it would be hotter than this. He was a little disappointed…and where were the demons who were supposed to torment him for eternity? Were they giving him time to settle in? That seemed unlikely…Looking around him, he saw nothing but an empty red space. There was nothing here but him. He turned to check behind him and flinched as blinding pain speared his brain. Squinting automatically, he realized his eyes were glued together with dried blood.

He wasn’t dead after all.

Now he was
really
disappointed…

“Fuck. Why am I not dead?”

“No idea, man. You look like you’ve been dead for days.”

Someone grabbed him under the arms and hauled him to his feet. Sean rubbed at his eyes and peeled them open. The kitchen whirled and spun and he clutched at the counter. His stomach heaved and he leaned over the sink retching up nothing but stomach lining.

“What happened to your head? You’ve been bleeding all over the place.”

Straightening with supreme effort, Sean squinted at the visitor. “Tyler? Where did you come from?”

Tyler frowned at Sean’s condition but said, “The back door was open…I’ve been trying to find Mica for weeks. Thought I’d try here again. Dani’s gone, Sean. Her mom’s totally lost it and the cops haven’t got a clue. I’m really worried about her. I was hoping maybe Mica knew something. You know, maybe Dani did one of those flaky running-off-to-a-commune things or something.”

Sean didn’t answer him.

Tyler studied his old friend. Sean was barely functioning. He leaned against the counter for support and couldn’t seem to focus his eyes. He blinked one eye and then the other. One pupil was a pinpoint and the other was dilated. Dried blood covered the side of his face; the kitchen was a disaster area. What was going on here?

“Dude, you should sit down before you fall down.” He pulled over one of the kitchen chairs and said, “Sit.”

Sean was confused. What was Tyler doing here? How did he find this place? Dani was the only human who’d been here, right? He thought that was true, but he wasn’t sure. Did they ever have company? Where was everyone? Where was Dec?

Oh, yeah, he was…somewhere else.

He didn’t know where.

He shook his head to clear his tumbling thoughts but that just sent pain blasting through him again. Groaning, he sat heavily, missing half of the chair. Tyler jumped up and shoved him back onto the seat.

“You don’t look too good. What happened?”

Blankly, Sean looked at Tyler. “My head’s fucking killing me, man. I can’t stand it.” He fumbled under his shirt and pulled out his Sig. Handing it to a stunned Tyler, he said, “See if it’s loaded, would you? I can’t take this anymore.”

Tyler took the gun like it was a grenade and gingerly set it out of reach. He looked more closely at Sean and then at the small pool of blood on the tile. He must’ve fallen and cracked his head. That would explain the symptoms. Confusion, headaches, vomiting, uneven pupils…He needed a hospital. Now.

“Hold on, man. I’m calling 911. You need a hospital.” He grabbed his cell phone and stepped out onto the back porch to get a better signal.

Five minutes later, he stepped back inside saying, “Hang on, the ambulance is on its way…Sean?”

Sean was gone.

He looked for the gun. It was gone too.

Manhattan, New York:

His reentry was less than smooth…he landed too hard and his foot and his tibia went in two different directions. Cursing in multiple languages, he sat on the marble tile in the penthouse foyer staring at the odd angle of his foot. His foot blurred into three images and he ground his teeth together in frustration. Damn it, stay still! He gave it an experimental turn and winced at the excruciating pain.

“Is there anything else that can go wrong?” He glared around him daring someone to answer. No one did. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Even with his disconnected thoughts, he knew there was no help for it. He’d have to try to heal the ankle. He had work to do. The city was crawling with demons and he was going to get back to his job. He had screwed up in ways he’d never be able to fix. New York had plenty of demons that needed killing.

Maybe that would balance his karma?

Pointedly ignoring the pain in his head, he closed his eyes and drew his
saol
to the broken bone in his ankle. It was harder than usual because his body kept trying to pull the energy flow towards his head.

Oh, no you don’t. I’m not fixing that.

He vividly remembered the car accident and what happened to cause Mica to risk her life for him. It was a miracle she wasn’t killed in the rollover. He’d put her in that position because he’d lost control. He’d gone too far, slipping towards a darkness he’d fought against for thousands of years. No, he thought as his ankle mended, he deserved the pain. He’d let his emotions fuel his powers in the worst way possible. He’d lost control and hurt the one person he cared about. He’d suck it up and take the punishment.

If it killed him, well, maybe that was his destiny.

The fact was, he didn’t much care.

After a few minutes, his ankle was perfectly healed and he realized his head ached less fiercely. He opened his eyes and the room remained steady. He could think again…how did that happen?

Frowning at the golden glow barely outlining his fingertips, he growled, “Don’t even think about it.” The helpful light retreated instantly.

Feeling steadier on his feet, he took a shower and changed his bloody clothes. The safe house was theirs whenever they needed it so they’d gotten into the habit of leaving clothes behind. In their lives, they never knew when they’d be on the run or assigned a new mission without any notice. Sometimes there were other Primani here, today he was alone. He was fine with that. He didn’t feel like talking to anyone. There was nothing to say. He brushed his teeth and caught a gleam of metal on the corner of the vanity. It was Dec’s wristband. The bright gold thread winked up at him. Mica’s gift.

Beautiful Mica--she was just a human, but she possessed more magic than he did. She might not be Primani, but she was something special. Raphael had blessed her more than once. That was no small thing.

Did he give her the magic or was it all her own? 

He didn’t know the answer to that, but he knew she made the wristbands with her own two hands and asked the angels to bless them. That made them special. She’d once laughed and said she had no idea if they’d been listening to her request. Sean had smiled inside and assured her they had. Of course they’d blessed them. Hell, there was no way they would refuse her anything. She’d asked nicely.

He fingered the worn leather of his own wristband. He kept his on all the time, like a lucky charm. He’d never admit it to Mica, but he was superstitious about wearing it.

Why had Dec taken his off?

Dec’s mischievous grin flashed in the mirror and Sean resisted the urge to look behind him. Stop friggin’ haunting me, Dec! Crushing the wristband in his fist, he shattered the mirror with a glance.

A cab driver leaned on the horn as Sean barged into the street in front of the car. With eyes trained on the human he was tracking, he ignored the irate cabbie. He’d get over it. His life sucked anyway. Why the hell would anyone want to drive a cab?

Sean’s prey was blissfully unaware of how short his life had just become. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time--It sucked to be him. Sean had been randomly hopping on and off the subways all day when he spotted the man. His name was Lyle Holliday. He was a middle-aged, balding, bland human that no one would ever suspect of his crimes. He was probably a cubicle mole in some basement maze here in Manhattan. Sean didn’t give a shit about where he worked. He could be the president and his fate would be the same.

He was on the list.

Five years ago, he’d raped and butchered a young boy, Luc Henricksson. He’d gotten away with it too. He probably didn’t even remember the boy’s name. But Sean did. He said a prayer for his soul on the anniversary of his death every year. He had a long memory when it came to dead women and children. Luc’s case had been particularly heartbreaking as he was his mother’s only child. She’d fallen apart, collapsing in on herself, after his death. Even with help from the angels, she never regained faith and committed suicide two years later. Sean had found her face down in a pool of bloody vomit, an empty bottle of pills beside her hand, a picture of Luc tucked against her chest.

Sean and Dec had done their best to find the boy’s killer but he’d vanished off the grid. After the woman died, they were reassigned and forced to move on. There were always humans to protect and endless demons to kill. He hadn’t been allowed to focus on this one man. That was five years ago. He’d been assigned to Mica right after that.

Things were different today. Now he had unlimited time. He allowed himself a feral grin and embraced the surge of power revving his blood.

Oh, yeah, things were different now.

He was off the grid.

Lyle weaved his way between throngs of people heading home for the evening. His beige jacket was a beacon heading up the sidewalks. Sean followed, but not too closely. No one paid any attention to him anyway; he’d gone ghost. He was essentially invisible as he smoothly moved around the wave of humanity. If the humans noticed him at all, it was as a warm brush of air against their skin. After three blocks, Lyle entered the subway and slid his pass through the sticky turnstile reader.

He was headed to Brooklyn. Perfect, Sean thought. I love Brooklyn. Maybe I’ll grab pizza at Gionta’s. Italian sausage and mushrooms sound good right about now. Sliding through the turnstile, he slipped into the crowded train car and rested his hand on one of the poles. A woman glanced up briefly at the disturbance in the air where he stood. Seeing nothing remarkable, she buried her nose in an e-book. Curious, Sean leaned closer to see what she was reading.

The Angel’s Burning Sword
.

Shit, that sounded like herpes.

Rolling his eyes, he checked out her left hand and wondered what her husband thought of her sexy books. Did he even know about them? Was it her dirty little secret? Maybe she needed the fantasy? A little distraction to make her boring human existence worth living…Shrugging invisibly, he thought about women, females, in general. What male really understood the female brain? He huffed in silent laughter and shook his head. God knew
he
certainly didn’t…

Dismissing the woman, he leaned against the pole and closed his eyes. His head was aching but not as badly. He wondered idly if he’d
accidently
healed himself. That would be a first. Bored and restless, he stared down at the woman again. She was middle-aged and attractive in a soft, feminine way. She took care of herself and looked pretty perched on the edge of her seat. Her lips moved slightly while she read. She read something, stopped, and blushed. Guiltily, she peered around to see if anyone was watching her.

Intrigued, Sean slid into the empty seat beside her and read over her shoulder.

“Valor dragged his tongue over the delicate skin of Ambrosia’s neck. She trembled with desire, her hand on his impossibly big sword…”

Sword?
Really?

Stifling a snort of derision, he carefully ran his fingers along the nape of her neck. She stiffened and flushed. Reaching back, she rubbed at her neck and bit her lower lip. Very carefully, he leaned close and blew a kiss against her ear. She jumped like she’d been slapped. Several passengers looked up startled. She turned hot pink and hid her face behind the book.

Grinning wickedly, her invisible teaser sat back in the seat and crossed his arms. It was too easy…With a grinding screech, the train slowed to a stop and the sheep trundled out. With eyes on his target again, Sean went ghost and followed him. After zigzagging down a couple of streets, the man stopped in front of a 1950’s-era duplex house. His half of the house was sided in faded yellow. The other wasn’t. The man went straight inside and flipped on the television.

Sean waited for him to get comfortable and tried the door knob. Locked. Stupid man, there’s no hiding from death. He held his hand to it and the door swung open with a slight creak. Lyle sat in a recliner with his back to Sean. Sean stood behind him and watched his target with grim satisfaction in his eyes. Finally, this piece of shit would get his reward.  Switching channels one after another, Lyle was too focused to notice the angel of death bearing down on him. By the time he felt the heat of Primani eyes on the back of his head, it was far too late.  One minute he was grunting over the mayor’s new gun control initiative, the next he was smoldering in Hell.

Kneeling on one knee, Sean bowed his head and said, “Go and find your mother, little man.”

No one answered him, but the feathery brush of tiny fingers lingered on his hand. Glancing up, he saw the palest hint of Luc standing before him. His unruly black hair hung low on his forehead as it had in life. Sean reached out and gently pushed the silky hair back letting his hand linger in comfort. The tiny boy met his eyes gravely and nodded once. Sean blinked and he was alone.