Soul Deep: Dark Souls, Book 2 (16 page)

It was obvious that this had become personal for Thomas. For months he’d waited for the opportunity to showcase his skills, and when that opportunity had finally presented itself, he’d been both outsmarted and outmaneuvered by the very man he hoped to outshine. Thomas was young, only twenty-two, and he possessed all of the failings of his generation. Human failings he’d carried over to his immortal existence. It would take years before he became a seasoned Watcher, if he survived that long.

“Keep looking for them,” Cal commanded dispassionately. “Knowing Marcus, he’ll opt for a highly populated area. The more energy surrounds them, the less conspicuous they’ll be. I’d use Portland as a starting point.”

Thomas nodded in agreement. “I’ll get right on it.”

“That’s all for today.” Cal felt uncharacteristically subdued. Any victory they achieved would be bittersweet, overshadowed by the tremendous burden of sacrifice and loss. “We have our work cut out for us,” he murmured, but he wasn’t sure anyone heard him. The Watchers were already filing out of the conference room to carry out his orders.

Chapter Twenty

Marcus was pleased to discover that the townhouse development was equipped with a computer room. After getting Regan and Ben settled, he’d decided to explore the facility and familiarize himself with the layout of the place. In the event the Watchers tracked them, he would need to have an intimate understanding of all possible escape routes, anything that could provide an advantage.

When he stumbled upon the computer room, he was relieved to see that he could conduct a great deal of his research without ever leaving the grounds. He needed to gather intel, to hack into police records, to put together as much information as he could on Kyros. He didn’t have much to go on, just a few crime scenes he suspected the Kleptopsychs had instigated, starting with the most recent—the incident in Eugene.

He waded through numerous newscasts and newspaper articles, looking for something— anything—that would give him a clue as to Kyros’s game plan. If he could predict the Kleptopsych’s next move, then maybe he could finally nail the bastard.
 

One seemingly unconnected detail stood out. The same day the bombers had invaded the university, two students had gone missing—a male and a female. Their pictures flashed on the screen, complete with pleas from their parents, begging the public for any information that could lead them to their children. If there was one thing Marcus had learned over his long and tedious existence, it was that nothing was coincidental. Everything was connected somehow.

He printed the articles, driven by a renewed sense of purpose. At least now he had a lead, one that could potentially go nowhere but it was better than no lead at all. He stood and walked over to the printer, only to be intercepted by a burly man in a plaid shirt and blue jeans. The guy handed him his sheets, scanning them briefly.

“I heard about the incident at the university,” he said. “Figured there was more to it than a few nutcases looking for thrills.”

“You figured right. My guess is the Kleptopsychs were behind it.”

Rogues hated the Kleptopsychs almost as much as the Watchers did, and this one was no exception. A disgusted grimace contorted his face. “Bastards think they own the world, that they’re better than the rest of us. The truth is, they’re just vermin with a sense of entitlement and a superiority complex.”

Marcus couldn’t have put it better himself. “You got that right.”

He extended his hand. “Name’s Eddie.”

Something about this guy seemed vaguely familiar. “I’m Marcus,” he said, meeting Eddie’s handshake.

“I know. Our paths crossed once before, a long time ago.”

Marcus finally managed to place him. Twenty-five years ago he’d attempted to recruit Eddie. When Eddie had refused to join the Watchers, Marcus had ensured the Rogue found his way to Adrian, hoping his son could reform the youth. It looked like Adrian hadn’t disappointed.

Eddie gave him a sheepish smile. “I don’t mean to pry, but I couldn’t help but notice you’re looking into the disappearance of those two kids in Eugene.” He knitted his brows, as though pondering something that troubled him. “I’m a homicide detective up in Spokane. Mainly I hunt mass murderers and serial killers, but recently I came across something that has me scratching my head, and that doesn’t happen to me very often.”

Eddie pulled out a chair, began furiously tapping on one of the keyboards. Next thing Marcus knew, a list of pictures appeared on the computer screen. “In the past six months, twenty-four kids have gone missing,” he explained, indicating the photographs. “Ten were in Oregon, eight in the State of Washington and six in Northern California.”

Eddie’s dark gaze met his, and Marcus saw a glint of steel behind it. Not that it surprised him. The Rogues in this community were graced with remarkable strength and willpower. If they weren’t, it would be virtually impossible for them to control their dark impulses without the aid of the Watchers’ bond. “I’ll tell you this much,” he added, “this isn’t the work of any of the serial killers I’ve investigated. Serial killers focus their efforts on one locale at a time. These abductions are sporadic, spread across the West Coast.”

“Could be Rogues,” Marcus said. “They’re not all as selective as you when it comes to their sustenance.”

“I know. I considered that. But Rogues don’t bother to cover their tracks. They have no qualms leaving a trail of bodies behind. And, like you said, they’re not selective when it comes to their food. Present company excluded, of course,” he tagged on with a grin.

“Look at the ages of the victims,” Eddie persisted. “They all range between sixteen and twenty-five. The true kicker is that they were practically all abducted in pairs, a male and a female.”

Marcus quickly scrolled through the photos, noting the name, location and age of each person listed. Something poked at him, a gut instinct that told him there was something here he was missing. “Can I have a copy of this?”

“Sure.” Eddie printed the document, then turned an analytical stare Marcus’s way. “What is it? What do you see?”

“I’m not sure.” He retrieved the document, carefully surveyed it. “But I think you may be on to something.”

When Marcus returned to the townhouse, he found Regan pacing furiously in the living room, her shoes hissing across the bearskin rug sprawled near the hearth. She looked like a sleek, restless tiger on the prowl.

“In case you haven’t noticed, that bear’s been dead for years.”

She spun around to face him, her shoulders stiff, her hands fisted at her sides. She’d opened all the shades, and waves of light spilled over her, setting her hair aflame. “I’m going a little stir-crazy,” she confessed. “I’m used to being out there, hunting bad guys. Now, I’m trapped here in Roguesville. I can’t exactly leave Ben alone, now can I? Especially considering what’s skulking around outside.”

He tossed the printouts on a nearby table and approached her. “You still don’t trust them.” It was an observation, not a question.

“Can you blame me, after everything I’ve seen?”

“Before Jace joined the Watchers, did you trust him?”

She looked at him inquisitively, as though wondering if she’d missed the punch line of a joke. “Of course. He had Lia to ground him.”

“Then you can trust Adrian.”

Skepticism shot across her beautiful face, and she began stalking the room again. “Twenty-five years ago the guy went all
Punisher
on us, minus the skull T-shirt. Why the sudden change of heart?”

“He found it.” He gripped her arm to settle her. The pleasant hum that swept across his palm made him all too aware of her closeness. Warmth radiated from her skin, as dangerous as it was seductive. “His lost soul.”

A spark of interest glimmered in her eyes. Eyes that looked almost yellow in the sunlight. “I thought Jace was the first.”

Marcus shook his head, reluctantly releasing her arm. It felt so damn good to touch her that he longed to keep doing it, even as he pulled away. “No. The reason I was able to recognize Jace’s connection to Lia is because I’d seen it, once before.”

“What happened to it? His soul?”

“He lost it again. But for a brief amount of time, he understood what it felt like to be human, and that was enough to change him.”

Her shoulders relaxed, and he hoped she was finally coming around. She stopped torturing the rug and lowered her body onto the couch, seeming to reflect on what he’d told her.

Hoping to distract her, he grabbed the printouts from the table and went to sit beside her. “Tell me what you think about this.” He handed her the documents, making sure his fingers didn’t brush hers.

She smiled, and a slow slide of molten heat traveled through him. “So you’re back to bossing me around, huh?”

“If I don’t give you something to do, you’re liable to wear a hole in the floor. Then what will I tell Adrian?”

She leafed through the printouts. “What are these?”

“There’s a computer room in the main building, so I did some digging. Apparently, two dozen people have recently gone missing. The locations and dates of the abductions coincide with the areas we believe Kyros and his troops have been. I figure there may be a connection.”

“And you want me to find it?”

He stared at her lips despite himself. There was something about her mouth he found infinitely appealing. “If it’ll keep you out of trouble…” he teased.

“I think it’s a little late for that.” Her voice dropped a notch, took on a husky quality that stoked the fire already burning inside him.

Guided by a power beyond his control, his hand rose to her face, his fingers grazing her cheek. He seemed to be touching her a hell of a lot lately. She inclined her head, leaned into his palm, and he was lost. The need to kiss her rammed into him. Her half-lidded gaze was almost as potent as her mouth.

He remembered how she’d felt pressed against him, the way her curves had molded to the hard planes of his body, the way her heat had awakened urges he thought he’d buried ages ago. His thumb wandered to her lower lip, traced its gentle arc. It was like stroking the petal of a rose, smooth and silky, with just a hint of velvet.

He was playing with fire, tempting himself with thoughts of things he could never have, tricking himself into believing that for a fleeting moment he could be a man and only a man. Not a Watcher. Not a creature of darkness. Not a soldier tasked with the incredible responsibility of protecting mankind. Just a man caressing a woman and enjoying it.

You want her. So go ahead, take her.

Leaning forward, he moved his thumb out of the way, determined to replace it with his mouth. To hell with everything. To hell with the world and its never-ending struggles. To hell with Cal and his goddamn vow of celibacy. Marcus had paid his dues, more than most.

His lips skimmed hers, softly, tenderly. It wasn’t exactly a kiss, only a touch, but a current of pure energy zipped through him. It vibrated through his veins, burrowed deep within his bones, raced over his flesh. The unfamiliar sensation shocked him so profoundly that he jolted away.

She looked at him with confusion, her cheeks flushed, her eyes dark with desire. If he wasn’t so darn unsettled, he would’ve kissed her, explored her tongue with his, drunk in her sweetness until his thirst was sated. But his mouth still burned from the electric charge her lips had delivered. Even more disturbing was the river of emotions that swam through him. He had no idea what to do with them. No idea how to calm his hammering heart or douse the fire raging through his bloodstream.

So he did the only thing he could think of. He stood and walked away from her, leaving her with a lapful of papers and a baffled, if not altogether disappointed, look on her heated face.

Desperate to escape again, he fished out his keys. “I better go pick up some groceries. Looks like we’re going to be here a while.”

She’d obviously recovered from her stab wound, because in a blink she stood in front of him, the car keys dangling from her finger. She’d folded space and snatched them from him before he could react. “Oh, no you don’t.” She pocketed the keys. “This time, I’m getting the groceries.”

“Wait.” He dug into his back pocket for the credit card, found the wallet missing.

With a self-satisfied grin, Regan waved the darn thing under his nose. Before he could draw his next breath, let alone speak, she was gone.

The yellow-brick structure that had once housed the Rivershore Hospital had been abandoned after the flood last year. The water damage had been too great, the walls contaminated by mold, and a new building was currently being erected across the river to take its place.

The ravaged building was of substandard quality, deemed uninhabitable. Therefore, it had been scheduled for demolition before Kyros had intervened. Now, it was all but forgotten, just another ruin, desolate and ignored by county officials and passersby.

Windows were boarded, hiding the devastation that lay within. Water stains scarred the walls, dirt blotted the white tiles, and swirls of dust lay suspended in the tomb-scented air. Sinks had sputtered in protest when Kyros had restored the water supply, and a dirt-brown liquid had poured out of the faucets, the scent so rancid he was convinced something had crawled in the pipes and died.