Soul Deep: Dark Souls, Book 2 (38 page)

Pain ripped through him at the memory of the flames feasting on her flesh. “But I came back.” A cloud slid across the moon, and the night grew blacker than sin. As black as the evil that had once lurked within him. “I rose from the ashes and killed them all.”

Lillith crept along the dense forested trail, where moss blanketed the ground and the smell of vegetation was thick enough to clog one’s throat. Tall trees intertwined their branches to block out the moon, but Lillith could see clearly in the dark. She advanced in brisk, sure-footed steps, her fingers clutching the gold, ruby-hilted dagger she’d stolen from the Seraphim Council before returning to earth.
 

Unlike Cal, Lillith felt no qualms about terminating the boy. She’d murdered children before, mainly infants and toddlers, hundreds of them. She’d had no choice. She’d needed to feed her babies, and they’d hungered for souls.

Her children were all dead now, some killed in the Great Flood, others in the New World. But her lineage persisted. She’d recently learned that her daughter’s offspring, Kyros and Kora, still lived, and Lillith had every intention of keeping it that way. The life of one small human boy was a small price to pay to protect what was hers.
 

She nearly missed the cave, the entrance concealed beneath its heavy cloak of mold and foliage. This was it—the place she sought. Until now, the child had been cloaked, virtually invisible to her. But suddenly she found herself able to track him, which confirmed what she’d already feared. The end was near. Micah wouldn’t have uncloaked the boy otherwise.

Pleased that her extrasensory abilities hadn’t been compromised like Cal’s when her wings were stripped from her, she entered the cave. Shadowy arms faithfully rose to embrace her, filling her with feral pleasure.

It will be over soon.

A soft glowing light flickered in the deepest part of the cavern, where the blackness should’ve been absolute. It drew her forward, emboldened her, even as lingering traces of Micah’s energy tainted the air and threatened to stifle her next breath.

A few sharp turns led her to the end of the cave, and the source of the light revealed itself. A vaporous fire danced in a hidden niche, smoldering without the benefit of wood. Blue flames held back the darkness, making no sound as they swayed and pulsed. As much as they mimicked fire, these flames did not actually burn. In fact, they were as cold as ice to the touch.

Angel fire.

Several feet from the blaze, shaking like an injured bird, crouched the boy.

He was alone, but the area had been sealed to prevent him from escaping. Only another angel had the power to tear down the barrier around him. With a concentrated thought, Lillith dismantled Micah’s seal and approached the child. He looked up at her, his face streaked with tears, his eyes two deep pools of tempered hope.

“Are you here to free me?” he asked between hiccupping sobs.

Lillith’s fingers tightened around the dagger she concealed behind her back. She gave the boy a buttery smile. “You could say that.”

Chapter Forty-Six

After Marcus’s startling revelation, Regan lapsed into deep thought, struggling to absorb what she’d learned. Could everything Marcus had told her be true? Had they been together in a past life, husband and wife, no less? Had she died in a misguided attempt to protect him? As much as she tried to convince herself that it was all a product of his imagination, a vivid delusion arising from his injuries, something primitive within her rejected the notion.

On a subconscious level, she accepted the story as truth, the same way she’d accepted the fact that they were soul mates. Some things were embedded in the very fabric of a person’s composition. Like her love for Marcus. A love that apparently transcended not only time, but death itself.

“How did you know who they were? The people who killed me?” When Marcus died, all of his memories should have abandoned him along with his soul.

“I didn’t. Not consciously. When I first turned, I was driven by instinct alone. I didn’t realize there was order to my madness.”

“Why do you remember our past life together and I don’t?”

He walked ahead of her, his heavy boots hammering the ground, his muscular arms chopping away at the branches, clearing the way for her. “I’m not sure. Maybe because your soul was born—potentially more than once—between that incarnation and your current one. Every time a soul is reborn, it’s cleansed of its memories. Otherwise, everyone would remember their past lives.” Marcus stopped abruptly, and Regan slammed into his broad back.

“What’s wrong?”

He shook his head. “Something’s happened. I can’t feel him anymore.”

“Ben?” Regan dug deep within herself, searched for the pulsing ribbon of energy that tethered her to Ben, found nothing but emptiness. The connection had evaporated in the space of a heartbeat. “Neither do I.”

Marcus scanned the area, his expression sharp and focused, as though he, too, was searching for the thread of energy he’d lost. He expelled a mouthful of air, his shoulders sagging wearily. He still hadn’t recovered fully from his scuffle with Thomas, and his face was as pale as the moon’s.

She placed a comforting hand on his arm. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I’m fine. But I’ll be much better once I get a lock on Ben’s signature again.” He fell on his haunches, touched the ground in silent meditation, then shook his head in defeat. “Something’s running interference. Another energy.”

The wind caressed them with clammy fingers, growing stronger by the minute, threatening to morph into a gale. “How do we override it?”

“A physical object would help.” His stormy features matched the sudden shift in the weather. “Unfortunately, everything I had of Ben’s was thrown out with my clothes.”

“Not everything.” She dug into her pocket and pulled out the toy figure she’d retrieved before Elliot had come and taken Marcus’s ruined clothing away. “Will this do?”

Marcus stood and turned toward her. The smile that lit his face swept through her like a heat wave. He palmed her cheeks, then trapped her mouth in a fierce kiss. “Have I ever told you how amazing you are?”

“Once or twice in the last three decades or so. Most of the time you’re busy accusing me of rash behavior and recklessness.”
 

He kissed her again. This time the kiss was slower, warm and languid, like melting chocolate. She could’ve stood here forever, surrounded by gnarled trees and wicked tangles of grass, kissing Marcus beneath an ever-thickening cover of clouds. But time didn’t allow it.

Marcus pulled away first, taking the toy from her and rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger. Regan watched him, afraid to hope.

“I feel something, a low pulse of energy. The signal is weak, but it’s telling me to keep moving east.” The wind gusted, howling like a wounded animal.

Ignoring the approaching storm, Regan resumed her hike through the woods. “Then we’ll keep moving east.”
 

“They’re moving east.” Jace led the Watchers down a rugged trail as the wind picked up speed. It seemed with each step they took, the valley grew deeper, the untamed forest wilder. The ground beneath their feet was rocky, overrun with roots and weeds, which only served to slow them down.

“Are you sure?” Cal walked a few paces behind Jace, dressed in his black battle gear, a broadsword hanging at his side. “There is no room for error. Time is of the essence.”

Frustration nipped at Jace’s patience. “I’m sure.”

Lia squeezed through a vicious knot of trees, caught up to them. “He’s right. I feel them, too.”

The forest hissed as the rest of the Watchers, eight in all, carved a rough path through the woods.

Something caught Jace’s eye, and he stopped and crouched in the brittle grass.

“What is it?” Cal squatted beside him to study the ground.

Jace indicated the faint indentation in the soil. It was hidden beneath twigs and a smattering of pebbles, but he made out the distinct outline of a man’s boot.

“You think it belongs to Marcus?” Lia asked, inspecting the footprint over their shoulders.

“Who else would be out here in the middle of no man’s land?” He stood and resumed his trek through the forest, more determined than ever to get to Marcus and Regan before they found trouble, which he knew they would. Regan and Marcus attracted danger the way a flame attracts moths.

Beyond the mountains, storm clouds gathered, just a shade lighter than the midnight sky. The darkness grew flat, impenetrable, with hardly any moonlight to slice through the gloom. Somewhere in the quickly receding distance, lightning cracked the smooth black lid of night, moments before thunder boomed.

“The storm is almost upon us.” Cal stared up at the heavens, looking like he had a serious bone to pick with his old buddies, the angels. “We need to hurry.”

Energy rippled through the ozone-scented atmosphere, making Jace’s skin prickle and the scar on his wrist hum. He ran his thumb over it, his eyes seeking out Lia’s. The blue intensity of her gaze told him she felt it, too.

Jace didn’t understand his strange connection to Marcus and Regan, how it had come to be. At first, he’d thought it had something to do with Regan being his mother, but now he wasn’t so sure. His theory would’ve made sense if he and Regan were the only ones implicated, but Lia and Marcus were part of this as well. It was something more, something bigger. He’d bet his immortal ass on it.

A burst of light zigzagged through the sky again, and Lia shivered beside him. She wrapped her arms protectively around her middle.

Jace gripped her by the elbow as thunder crescendoed through the valley. “What’s the matter?”

“I feel it.” Her eyes widened, alarm rearranging her features. “Death. It’s coming.”

Lillith advanced toward the boy, her fingers twitching around the dagger she held, barely contained anticipation tap-dancing along her ribs. He resembled a frightened little lamb on his way to the slaughterhouse—so small, so meek, so innocent. Excitement, the likes of which she hadn’t experienced in centuries, shimmied through her.

He backed away, wariness claiming his face, his thin arms stretched out in front of him as though they could protect him.

Lillith fought not to laugh. Did this pathetic slip of a boy think he was any match for her? She revealed the dagger, anxious to get the act over with before Micah decided to make an appearance.

With a short, muffled grunt, she lunged at the child, backing him into a corner, the blade poised for attack. As the sharp point arced toward his heart, a thick cloud of energy began to hum around him. Then a bright blast invaded the small chamber, and Lillith went catapulting back.

Regan stopped walking. A slimy chill spread through her, as though a snake had just slithered over her grave. She stared up at Marcus and noted the same morbid surprise on his face.

“Feel that?” he asked.

She nodded. Goose bumps pebbled her flesh, and she rubbed them away. “What do you think it means?” In the distance, the sky thundered a warning.

He shook his head, his palm resting on the hilt of his sword. “I’m not sure.”

Regan’s first instinct was to assume their souls had been compromised, that something terrible had happened to Ben.

She chased the thought from her head. Her emotions were still intact. Her feelings for Marcus still burned strong and bright. Her fear for Ben remained a sharp-toothed ache in her gut, and that gave her hope that both he and his soul still lived.

She felt the blast before she saw it, a growing wave of energy deep inside her, gathering speed, cresting. Then the air ruptured and light burst across the sky, momentarily turning night into day.

Marcus’s face reflected the same shock that coursed through her. He met her gaze, his features set in a hard, dismal frown. “Ben.”

Before she could say anything, he arrowed through the tall fence of trees and disappeared behind a vaporous curtain of fog.

Chapter Forty-Seven

The bright beam that suddenly cleaved the sky wasn’t another flash of lightning. Jace was sure of it. The energy that speared through the atmosphere cut him straight to the bone, potent and familiar. It was the same energy that had burst from him last summer in the catacombs and fried Athanatos. The same energy that also dwelled in Ben.

“What was that?” Lia walked up ahead of him, her ardent gaze riveted to the distant point beyond the mountains where the blast had originated.

Jace’s reply was cut short by Cal, who started calling out to the others, urging them to hurry. Within seconds the Watchers were all galloping through the woods, their legs swimming in mist, each breath they exhaled a puff of smoke in the ever-cooling breeze.

A chilling hush descended over the forest, a graveyard quiescence that somehow reinforced Lia’s dire prediction.

“
Death. It’s coming.
”

Her somber words spun through Jace’s mind, over and over again, like the chorus of a song he just couldn’t get out of his head.

“You wouldn’t happen to know who’s going to die?” he asked her as they jogged side by side, the unforgiving wind whipping at their faces.