Soul Deep: Dark Souls, Book 2 (25 page)

Jace approached the door, grabbed the handle and turned it, fully convinced he’d find the space empty. He’d heard Thomas and the others talking about how Regan and Marcus had vanished before their eyes when the Watchers had cornered them in that cellar. His mother’s talents had grown exponentially since he’d last seen her. If she didn’t want to be found, there was no goddamn way she’d be chilling out in his old room, waiting for him.

To his surprise, that was exactly what Regan and Marcus were doing. They stood at the heart of the room, leaning against a metal-framed bed, looking totally at ease, as though they’d been expecting them.

Marcus wore one of his annoying I’m-always-a-step-ahead-of-you grins. He feigned a yawn. “What the hell took you so long?”

Jace ignored him, centering his gaze on Regan instead, tenderness lumping in his throat. “You all right?”

Leaving Marcus’s side, she approached him. “You know me,” she joked. “I’ve got nine lives and I always manage to land on my feet.”

She gave him a friendly shove on the arm. Then her expression grew deep and serious, and her eyes suddenly swam with emotion. Never before had he seen such feeling on his mother’s face. “Screw it.” She pulled him into a crushing hug. “I’ve missed you, you big lug.”

He held her hesitantly, unsure how to react to this open display of motherly affection, especially with Marcus standing right there, scrutinizing them with that dissecting stare. The situation was awkward, to say the least, so when she pulled away, Jace breathed a sigh of relief.

“Where have you been?” he asked her.

Lia trickled into the room behind him, her steps tentative and cautious, her countenance guarded.

“I can’t tell you that.” Regan’s glance darted between him and Lia. “The less you know, the better.”

He was tempted to search her mind for answers, but he fought the urge. Invading someone’s thoughts was a violation of the worst kind. With Lia, he had an unspoken understanding. Her thoughts came to him unbidden, thanks to the twin soul that now dwelled in his chest, sustaining them both. Trying to block them out was about as futile as preventing himself from breathing. With Regan, the act would be intentional, an invasive assault she’d undoubtedly resent.

“How’d you track us down?” It was Regan’s turn to question him.

“Long story. The important thing is that I found you. Maybe now I can talk some sense into you.”

Marcus barked out a laugh. “Best of luck with that. Haven’t managed to do that in over thirty years.”

Regan skewered her partner with a sharp glare. “As much as I’d love to stand around here all day and listen to the two of you tell me what I should do, there are about twenty Kleptopsychs scattered throughout this building, and any minute now they’re going to get wind that we’re here. So let’s hasten this along a bit.”

“Why
are
you here?” Lia finally spoke. “But more importantly, why are they?”

“Finally, a smart question.” Regan and Lia had always seen eye-to-eye. Maybe on some level, they could even be called friends. “Marcus, wanna bring them up to speed?”
 

Marcus propelled himself away from the bed and began stalking the room. “In the past six months, two dozen people have gone missing. We think Kyros is behind it, and we suspect the people he’s abducted are somewhere in this building.”

“Why would Kyros waste his time kidnapping humans?” Jace asked. “Certainly not to feed on them. Not when he can cause a disaster that kills hundreds of them at once.”

“Like the near bombing in Eugene,” Marcus suggested.

“Exactly.” It wasn’t often that Jace agreed with the guy, but today they seemed to be on the same page.

Lia busied herself walking through the room, opening drawers, examining various instruments. She picked up a catheter attached to a needle, studied a glass vial, then moved on to a machine that looked like some kind of microscope outfitted with several sharp needles. “May I offer a theory?”

Marcus’s keen gaze sharpened. “Please do.”

“Based on the equipment in this room, I’d say this place has been converted to a fertility clinic. This machine in particular is used for artificial insemination. It looks to me like Kyros has put together some kind of breeding program.”

Marcus and Regan exchanged knowing glances. Marcus nodded his agreement. “Makes sense. That’s why he’s abducting humans in pairs—a male and a female.”

The Great Flood. Noah’s Arc. Could it be? Faced with the looming threat of the Apocalypse, had Kyros taken it upon himself to artificially produce life? Did the bastard’s God complex extend that far? Or did he have something even more sinister in mind?

“He’s harvesting souls,” Jace said, a greasy feeling sprouting in his stomach.

Regan cursed. “The guy’s completely off his rocker.”

Marcus’s eyes blazed with barely contained hatred. “Kyros has always suffered from delusions of grandeur. He feared his father, and that’s the only thing that kept him in line. Now that Athanatos is gone, he’s free to live out his sick fantasies.”

Regan raised her blade, her back straightening. “We have to find these people and set them free, then burn this place to the ground.” She marched to the door, only to stop dead in her tracks. “Shit. They know we’re here.”

Chapter Thirty

Marcus withdrew his dagger and went to stand beside Regan, his skin crawling at the onslaught of dark energy spilling through the corridors, fast approaching. “There are about a dozen Kleptopsychs headed this way,” he guessed, “but I think we can take them.” He turned to Jace. “Especially if you can convince a few of them to fight on our side.”

“I’ll give it my best shot.”

They all exchanged bolstering glances. “Ready?” Marcus asked the others, who each nodded in turn. “Let’s go.”

They burst from the room to find the hallway infested with Kleptopsychs.

“I have to warn you,” Jace said. “They’ve recently gotten their hands on a shitload of angel’s blood, so don’t let their blades cut you.”

Marcus wasn’t surprised. He’d already guessed Kyros was getting a little divine intervention. “Could’ve told us that a little sooner,” he grumbled as their enemies charged.

Vicious blades slashed the air with lethal precision. Marcus ducked and countered, relying on his strength and agility. Regan pulled one of her fancy disappearing acts. Jace opted for a more subtle approach, using his opponent’s mind against him. As for Lia, she made sure to cut down any Kleptopsych that came within striking distance. Every time one of their enemies fell, their carcass spat out intense light and black smoke. The light—souls that had yet to be extinguished—was quickly reabsorbed by the others, strengthening them. The black smoke rose like a cloud to hinder their visibility.

Marcus and the others worked as one, parrying and countering, deflecting each attack, even as they slid in to deliver the killing blow.

“I’ve missed this,” Regan intoned, the smile in her voice unmistakable as she sliced a Kleptopsych in half. “Just like old times.”

It wasn’t nostalgia that pumped through Marcus’s system but renewed purpose. For the first time in days, he felt he was part of something again. Something noble, vital and essential. Something that made his blood come alive and fueled his determination.

“I’ve had just about enough of this,” Jace said. “Hey, you four over there.” He gestured to the group of Kleptopsychs standing to his right. They were downright huge, with thick arms and even larger blades. Slow to move and low on the talent scale, they didn’t look like much of a threat, but they did have the benefit of mass on their side. “I’ve just declared you honorary Watchers. Take care of these guys for us, will you?”

Like well-trained zombies, they turned on their buddies, mowing them down with the force of bulldozers. Taking advantage of the commotion, not to mention the staggering surprise this sudden mutiny elicited in the Kleptopsychs, Marcus and the others disentangled themselves from their attackers and slipped away.

“Nice work.” Marcus didn’t make a habit of praising Jace, but he’d never seen the guy manipulate four Kleptopsychs at once, and props had to be given when they were deserved.

Jace, who’d obviously inherited Regan’s inability to take a compliment with grace, rounded his eyes in mock surprise. “Guess they were wrong. Looks like every so often, it does snow in hell.”

Marcus made a mental note never to compliment the guy again. Following the signature that had led him here, he guided the others through the building. They passed a series of rooms inhabited by haggard, emaciated, nearly catatonic patients.

Regan swung the doors open, urging the prisoners to escape, but none of them moved. They seemed nailed in place, riveted to their beds by an invisible weight.

“Kyros planted an anti-flight suggestion,” Marcus informed her. “They won’t leave. They can’t.”

Regan turned to Jace, her voice stretched thin by urgency and compassion. “Can you undo it?”

Deep creases marred Jace’s forehead. “I can try.”

For a few seconds, nothing happened. Then one by one, the victims seemed to come out of their trance. “Go,” Jace ordered. “Get out of here.”

“They’ll never get past the guards.” Lia reminded him. “We need to escort them out.”

“You two go ahead,” Marcus said. “We’re not done here yet.”

Jace’s hackles rose. Marcus recognized the signs—the stiff shoulders, the tight, thin mouth, the hard angle of his jaw. Cutler had more of Regan in him than either of them knew, and his next words confirmed it. “No way we’re leaving the two of you alone in here.”

“Someone needs to take these people to safety and erase their memories,” Marcus insisted, “and we both know no one’s better equipped for the job than you.”

Indecision contorted Jace’s features. He’d just managed to track his mother down, and now he had to leave her in the middle of a war zone with a man he didn’t fully trust. Marcus understood his dilemma, even respected him for it.

A young woman hobbled out of one of the rooms, her long, blond hair matted, mascara caking her cheeks. She wore a nondescript hospital gown, but Marcus knew instantly this was the prostitute he’d tracked here.

“He killed her,” she sobbed. “He killed Mandy. Emptied her like a glass. The way she looked—” She began to shake uncontrollably, tears streaming down her face, hands clasped over her heart. “The way the light went out of her eyes.” She wagged her head compulsively, as though trying to shake loose the images lodged in her mind.

Lia approached her and placed a comforting hand on her arm. “Are you Jewel?”

The girl nodded. She looked so young. Marcus guessed she couldn’t have been more than seventeen.

With a pleading look directed at Jace, Lia wrapped a supportive arm around Jewel. “We’ve come to take you home.” The tone of her voice was so reassuring, the girl relaxed, but the tears continued to flow.

A frustrated sigh exploded from Jace. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get you people as far away from this place as possible.” He gave Regan a pained look, one brimming with a potent blend of worry and affection, as though he knew he might never see her again. “You watch out for yourself.”

A barely noticeable nod was Regan’s only response. It didn’t take a mindreader to know her heart was breaking, only someone who knew her inside and out. Placing an encouraging hand on her shoulder, Marcus pulled Regan away as Jace and Lia left to escort the prisoners to safer ground.

“Why are we still hanging around Dr. Monroe’s Island?” she asked, tossing a yearning glance over her shoulder. “Wasn’t the goal to get the prisoners out?”

“I sense something down the hall. Something I can’t identify. We need to find out what it is, then destroy this place and everything in it.”

Regan followed as he weaved his way through what had once been the nurse’s station. At the end of the hall, two large stainless-steel magnetically sealed doors blocked their path. Beyond the metal barrier, a pulsing mass of conflicting energies buzzed, bright and compelling. Marcus tried to separate the layers of energy and identify the individual signatures that composed it, failed. Tunneling his vision didn’t prove any more successful.

“What’s in there?”

“Not sure, but whatever it is, it’s powerful.” He focused his thoughts in an attempt to unbolt the lock. “There’s some kind of shield around the door. I can’t manipulate the lock.”

“Good thing I’ve got no use for doors.”

One look at her determined face and he knew what she was planning. Protectiveness surged within him, as did a wave of resistance. “You don’t understand. Whatever’s keeping me from peering inside may very well interfere with your ability to fold space. Worse, you could end up trapped in there.” Shields were a tricky business, sometimes erected to keep intruders out, other times designed to keep them in, and this one was like nothing he’d ever come across before.

“I have to try. Kyros might be in there.” He recognized the stubborn set of her jaw, the steel conviction in her eyes. She wouldn’t be dissuaded. Not when the end was finally in sight. Her desire to protect Ben outweighed any concern she may have had for her own safety.

“Then take me with you.” He didn’t particularly enjoy her way of travel, but the thought of letting her venture into that death trap without him, completely oblivious to the dangers that might lurk on the other side of those doors, crushed his heart to the size of a small stone.