Soul Deep: Dark Souls, Book 2 (24 page)

Jace considered her question briefly because that was all that time allowed. “I don’t know. I’ll just have to trust my gut when the time comes.” Bloated clouds blanketed the sky, and a shadow fell over them. “As for Cal, if he wants to cast me out for doing what I feel is right, then so be it.”

“Then he’ll have to cast me out, too.”

He looked into her lovely face, knew she’d follow him to the end of the world if necessary. That kind of commitment, that kind of devotion, was all the encouragement a man needed. Sometimes he still asked himself what he’d done to deserve it.

Unlocking the doors, he made a beeline for the Explorer he’d parked in front of the building. A huge German shepherd sprang from the shadows to block their path. The dog snarled, its menacing brown eyes trained on them in unspoken warning. The creature reminded him of his encounter with the white wolf a few months ago. A wolf that had turned out to be Cal in animal form.

“What is it with me and the entire goddamn canine race?” he grumbled.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

The clouds suddenly cracked open, and rain fell to soak Jace and Lia until they shivered from the cold. They were immortal, capable of withstanding all forms of torture but one. Water froze them to the bone. Maybe it was God’s way of punishing their kind for having survived the Great Flood, His way of reminding them they weren’t as invincible as they believed.

“We have to get inside.” The panic in Lia’s voice spurred Jace into action.

“When I move, run.” He tossed her the keys and took off at a sprint, hoping to lure the dog away long enough for Lia to get into the SUV. As predicted the dog took off in pursuit, leaving the coast clear.

The German shepherd moved like the wind, dashing down the street so fast its body became a blur. Next thing Jace knew he was on the ground, trapped beneath the dog. He tried to fling the animal off him, failed. He was paralyzed, unable to move. Maybe it was the rain that had weakened him. Or maybe, like the wolf, this was no ordinary dog.

Rain puddled around him, a cold, damp, watery grave. Violent shudders seized his body, and he found himself unable to concentrate long enough to will the animal to release him.

The Explorer’s motor roared to life. Tires screeched as Lia floored the gas pedal, spun the SUV around and angled it their way. The vehicle wouldn’t leave a scratch on Jace if it struck him, but with any luck it would knock the rabid beast pinning him to the ground straight into the afterlife.

The Explorer rocketed over the street, and Jace braced himself for an impact that never came. The tires screeched, stopping within an inch of his body. The bumper protruded over his abdomen where the German shepherd had stood moments ago. Dragging himself from under the SUV, Jace searched the road for the animal’s mangled form. No blood streaked the blacktop. No fur littered the ground.

The dog had vanished into thin air.
 

Marcus viewed the building through a hazy curtain of rain. Stained yellow bricks graced the façade, slabs of wood covered the windows, and a broken sign dangled over the door, exactly as Ben had described. “This is it. This is where Kyros is taking his prisoners.”

“The Rivershore Hospital? This place has been abandoned for months.”

Sitting in the Tahoe, Marcus was bombarded by a medley of conflicting auras. Pain and misery enshrouded the building, underscored by the thick, viscous black energy emitted only by their kind. “Does it feel abandoned to you?”

“Could be the lingering auras of all those who died in the flood.” Compassion softened her features. “Sometimes, when people die violently, their souls can cling to a place for years.”

Marcus’s gaze followed a raindrop’s meandering trail down the windshield until it disappeared beneath the hood. “So now you believe in ghosts?”

She shrugged noncommittally. “Anything’s possible.” Her honeyed eyes pulled him in, and he didn’t miss the meaning in their sparkling depths. “Is she here? The other woman.”

He tried to peel back the conflicting layers of energy and home in on his target. “My gut led me here, so she must be. Only one way to know for sure.”

He got out of the truck. Thankfully, the rain had tapered down to a drizzle. By the time he’d circled around to the passenger side, Regan had climbed out and was steadily approaching the building. He clutched her arm to halt her progress. “Don’t get any ideas about pulling a disappearing act. We go in together.”

She glanced down at the hand he’d secured around her arm, then back up at his face. “Think we’ve got enough angel’s blood left on our blades to take them all out?”

“Let’s hope so.” Releasing her, he channeled his vision and mentally canvassed the area. “There’s a guard at every door. If we get any closer, they’ll sense us.”

“Then I guess we’ll have to use the element of surprise.” She reached for his hand, and next thing he knew the world collapsed.
 

When it rose to enfold him again, he found himself within the building, a self-satisfied Regan at his side. Each time she used her newfound skill, she got better at it, grew bolder and stronger. Again, Marcus wondered what had changed in that moment on the highway when her palms had connected with his and Ben’s.

“I thought I told you no disappearing acts.”

Cocking a well-shaped brow, she graced him with a wicked grin. “You also said we go in together.” She scanned the dark storage room within which she’d teleported them, and her expression grew serious. “How long do you think we have before they realize we’re here?”

“A few minutes. There’s enough dark energy in the building to mask us, but not for long.”

“Then let’s get this show on the road.”

Marcus tunneled his vision, gave her a brisk nod. “Coast is clear.”

Withdrawing their daggers, they ventured out of the storage room, keeping their backs to the wall. They advanced as quietly as they could, but every so often the floor creaked, threatening to reveal their presence to their enemies. Huge water stains blotted the ceiling. Peeling paint decorated the swollen walls. The overpowering stench of medicine and mold peppered the air, trickling down Marcus’s windpipe to congeal in his lungs, and he fought the urge to cough out the contaminated air.
 

“This building should be condemned,” he whispered to Regan.

“I think it was.”

“Then why is it still standing?”

“If Kyros really is behind this, he would’ve done everything in his power to keep the building from being torn down,” she reasoned. They turned the corner, daggers poised and ready. Thankfully, this corridor was empty as well. “The question we should be asking ourselves is what he hopes to gain.”

They continued down the water-damaged hallway, opening doors as they passed, constantly tunneling their vision to make sure no one approached. Finding nothing of interest on this floor, they followed a red exit sign to a utilitarian staircase, where putrefying yellow walls rose to encase them.

“Man, it stinks in here.” Regan wrinkled her nose against the offensive stench of rot and decay.

Four stories up, the canvas morphed. Spanking new walls sported a fresh coat of paint, floors had been replaced, and the air now carried an antiseptic scent reminiscent of the hospital that had once operated within this now-moldering construction. Electricity had been restored to this part of the building, and bright lights cast a sterile glow throughout the place, banishing the shadows. Yet the hallways remained deserted.

Regan’s fingers twitched nervously around the hilt of her dagger. “Where the hell is everyone? On a coffee break?”

Marcus stifled a bitter grin. “Highly unlikely. When has anything ever been that easy for us?”

A strained chuckle echoed from her throat. “Ain’t that the truth.”

They ventured out of the staircase, edging along the wall again, all their senses on red alert. If there was the slightest shift in the atmosphere, they would sense it.

The second they turned the corner, the hairs on the nape of Marcus’s neck began to prickle. “Someone’s coming.”

Regan didn’t question him. They’d been on enough missions together for her to know that his instincts were usually dead-on. Hastening down the hall, they entered the first room they came across. In the center of the small, rectangular cell, a bed adorned with metal stirrups loomed.

They stood by the door, listening for the telltale sound of approaching footsteps, fully prepared for the onslaught of black energy the Kleptopsychs emitted when they drew near. When none came, they finally allowed themselves to relax.

“I could’ve sworn I felt something,” Marcus said.

“Maybe whoever it was changed his mind. Could’ve turned around and gone back where he came from.”

“Or maybe he sensed us and decided to go for backup.”

Regan didn’t respond, her attention snared by a pair of forceps. “What do you think they’re doing in here?”

Marcus took a quick inventory of the room, which was outfitted with a slew of medical equipment—an ultrasound machine, an array of speculums, the pair of forceps Regan held, a fetal monitor.

“Looks like some kind of birthing room,” he guessed.

The scar on his wrist abruptly began to throb again, and he and Regan exchanged worried glances. “Feel that?” he said.

She nodded. “The Watchers’ mark. It’s prickling.”

Marcus muttered a curse. “I was right. Someone’s coming, but it’s not the Kleptopsychs.”

Understanding came into Regan’s eyes, followed by a ridiculous glint of pleasure. “It’s Jace. He found us.” She turned to him, her smile losing its luster. “I guess you want me to zap us out of here.”

Marcus hesitated, then shook his head. “No.”

Surprise flitted across her face. “No?”

“We’ve come too far to walk away now. The answers we’re looking for are just beyond this room. I’m not leaving.”

“I thought you didn’t trust Jace.”

“I don’t,” he answered honestly. “That son of yours has always been a wildcard. But right now, we need his help.”

As anxious as Regan was to see Jace, doubt clouded her gaze. “I don’t want to cause trouble for him. He’s already on shaky ground with Cal.”

“Lia’s a doctor. If anyone can figure out what’s going on here, it’s her.”

Marcus wasn’t reckless like Regan. He believed in taking only calculated risks, and that was exactly what this was. He only hoped Jace’s affection for Regan would land the man on their side. He knew it was a gamble, but the payoff was too great to ignore. An opportunity to figure out what Kyros was up to and potentially bring down the firstborn wasn’t likely to present itself again.

“So what do you propose we do? Sit around and wait for them to find us?” The sarcastic lilt in her voice told him she was half joking.

Marcus leaned back against the metal frame of the bed, got comfortable. “Sounds like as good a plan as any.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

“Are you sure Regan and Marcus are here?” Lia asked Jace as he darted down the winding corridors of the Rivershore Hospital, following his mother’s invisible call.
 

After they’d escaped the dog, he’d taken the wheel and driven with single-minded focus, not stopping until they found themselves within a block of the very place Lia had once considered a second home. They’d entered through a back door, where he’d persuaded the guard to let them in and then conveniently forget about it.

“They’re here. My scar’s on fire.” For some reason, since Regan had gone rogue, his connection to his mother had grown stronger, as had his compulsion to find her.

“Mine, too.” Lia’s revelation surprised him. “I’m not really sure what it means, though.”

He ran the pad of his thumb over his pulsing wrist. “Neither am I. But it’s telling me to go up.”

They climbed the steps, exiting on the fourth floor. Here, the hospital was as he remembered it, with pristine white walls, spotless floors and bright fluorescent tubes lighting the hallways. He angled a glance at Lia, saw the images taking shape in her mind. Images of her racing down these very halls, adrenaline pumping hard and fast through her veins, bringing with it a surge of exhilaration.

“You were happy here,” he observed. “You miss it.”

“Every day.” He didn’t need to read her thoughts to feel her remorse, or the growing guilt that plagued her as her memories grew clearer.
 

“It wasn’t your fault—the flood, what Diane did to this place.”

She gave him a wobbly smile. “I know. But I can’t help but regret all the lives that were lost here last summer.”

Jace suddenly stopped. His shoulders tensed, even as excitement washed through him. He gestured to a door a few feet away. “They’re in there.”

“You do realize what that room is, don’t you?”

He gave her a blank stare, waited for her to elaborate.
 

“It’s your room,” she told him. “This is where we placed you when you were brought to the hospital, the night you turned.”

Surprise had him staring at the closed door ahead of them. “Shit, you’re right. Maybe Cal’s not completely out to lunch when he says there’s no such thing as a coincidence.”