Soul Deep: Dark Souls, Book 2 (41 page)

“Because I’m one of the few you failed to control.”

The golden blade instantly returned to Ben’s throat, and the boy cried out in terror. Marcus visibly recoiled.

“I’m doing a fine job of it now.” A shrewd smile split Kyros’s face. “I see,” he whispered, and Regan cringed.

He knows.

Kyros had the rare gift of tapping into a Hybrid’s lost soul. He could see connections the rest of them were utterly blind to. It didn’t take a genius to figure out he’d just intuited the truth, and his next words confirmed it. “I think I’ve just found the mother lode. Your son’s soul may have escaped me,” he spat at Marcus, “but yours most certainly won’t.”

“I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.” Marcus feigned ignorance.

“Really? Then let’s put my little theory to the test, shall we?”

Images suddenly exploded in Regan’s mind, and she gripped her head. They weren’t as vivid as they could’ve been—Kyros was weakened by the rain and the copper in the walls—so his attempt to use their souls against them wasn’t nearly as debilitating as she’d expected.

She ventured a glance in Marcus’s direction, realized the same memories flared within him. The past came to life, the love she and Marcus had shared swelling to fill every corner of her consciousness. She remembered what it had felt like to hold him, to belong to him body and soul, to know wholeness, completeness, only to have it ripped away from her. She felt the unforgiving hold of the noose around her neck, heard the familiar cadence of Marcus’s voice in the clamoring crowd, felt the sharp, stabbing pain as the ground was yanked from beneath her feet.

Kyros laughed. “Why, this boy’s essence is just a treasure trove of surprises.”

With a furious growl, Marcus hurled himself at a stunned Kyros. She’d never seen him move so fast. The dagger flew from Kyros’s grasp, and the Kleptopsych went scuttling backward. Ben collapsed on the mud-caked floor, terrified but unharmed.

Marcus shoved Kyros against the wall, his expression so ferocious Regan hardly recognized him. “You son of a bitch. Did you really think I’d let you harm her or the boy? You’ve already taken one child from me. I’ll be damned if I let you take another.” Kyros flailed wildly as Marcus tossed him to the ground, pinning him in place with the tip of the trench knife he drew from the scabbard at his waist.
 

Ben sobbed and scampered to his feet, making a run for the cave door just as the Watchers marched in. Jace caught him by the arm, and Ben’s breathing raged out of control.

A pained cry tore loose from the boy’s throat, and his head fell back. Light pulsed around him, so bright it hurt to look at him. Then Jace began to glow, too. He released his grip on Ben, stretching out his hands and staring down at himself. The glow didn’t abate. In fact, it gained momentum. Like a rapidly spreading contagion, it enveloped Lia, then Regan and Marcus. Given where they each stood, they formed a pulsing circle of light around Kyros.

Blinding radiance exploded from each of them, illuminating every corner of the cave and spearing into Kyros with laser-like precision. He didn’t even have a chance to scream before the light reduced him to ash.

Just as quickly as it had spread, the radiance retreated, gathering into a tight white sphere. The sphere hovered next to Micah’s head for a second or two, then floated through the air toward Regan, sinking into her abdomen, where it promptly extinguished itself and pitched the cave into darkness.

“Ben?” Panic soaked Regan’s voice. She searched the blackness for him, thankful for her ability to see in the dark, even as she feared what she’d find. The boy was nowhere in sight.

“It will be a while before you hear his voice again.” It was Micah who spoke.

Marcus sprinted across the cave, grabbed the angel by the lapels of his trench coat and shook him, hard. “What did you do with him?”

The concern that had pinched the angel’s features the second he’d caught sight of the dagger relented, replaced by smug satisfaction. “I simply delivered him home.”

Only then did Regan notice that the Watchers—all except for Jace, Lia and Cal—had disappeared as well. “What happened here?” Her failure to protect Ben tugged at her shoulders, an impossible weight that threatened to crush her. Tears welled in her eyes, coming from a place deep inside her. A place she’d never visited before.

“Benjamin’s energy collided with Jace’s.” Cal walked farther into the cave, picking up the discarded dagger and staring at it reverently. “Their souls were forged by the same archangel,” he explained. “The most powerful one of all.”

“Sataniel,” Micah added.

Regan’s body stiffened. “Sataniel? As in the ruler of hell?”

Jace, who was still bone-white from the experience he’d just had, approached her hesitantly. “It seems he wasn’t always the Prince of Darkness. The soul Lia and I share, along with Ben’s, are just two examples of his more notable creations.”

“There are four in all.” Micah walked up to Cal and took the dagger from his grasp, handling it with excessive care. The weapon vanished within his trench coat, and the angel breathed a sigh of relief. “One was trapped within Athanatos for thousands of years, only to be released last summer when it came in contact with its sister soul.”

So that was how Jace had managed to fry Athanatos. The same way he and Ben had just fried Kyros and several of the Watchers she’d once considered friends. Her heart folded painfully, her lungs contracting around the air she kept trying to force into them. So many senseless deaths, and Ben at the heart of it all.

Oh, Ben. Sweet, innocent Ben. I’m so sorry. Sorry I failed to keep my promise.
 

 
“Another dwells in Jace,” Micah continued, oblivious to her inner torment. “Ben’s—or should I say yours and Marcus’s—is also one of these sacred souls.”

All eyes swiveled their way.

“Wait a minute.” Jace’s voice cut through the deafening silence. “Are you saying Marcus’s and Regan’s lost souls are twins, and that Ben was the carrier?”

“Of course.” Cal’s expression glimmered with understanding. “Everything makes sense now. That’s why they were so attached to the boy, so driven to protect him.” Cal frowned. “I should’ve seen it.”

“I couldn’t allow you to,” Micah countered. “I purposely blinded you to the truth because had you seen it, you would’ve hesitated to terminate the boy. I needed you at odds with Regan and Marcus. It was the only way for them to bond.” Micah’s eyes shone with satisfaction.

“I knew how you’d react when you saw what the boy could do,” he continued, “knew that you’d immediately assume he was the false prophet. Nearly everything was planned and anticipated, including Lillith’s escape. How do you think she got her hands on the Sacred Dagger?”

“You took a tremendous risk,” Cal told the angel. “What if I’d succeeded in destroying Ben’s soul?”

“I never would’ve allowed that to happen. That’s why I came to earth. To thwart your efforts.”

“You were the dog.” A chortle of understanding rang in Jace’s throat. “The one who attacked me.”

Micah didn’t bother to deny it. “The prostitute’s death and Kyros’s farming activities were the only two things I failed to foresee. They nearly ruined everything. That’s why Kyros had to be eliminated. He was too great a threat, and it is imperative that Marcus and Regan survive.”

Cal’s features clouded in utter bewilderment. “Why? Why are two of my Watchers so important that you’d go through all this trouble?”

For the first time, Micah smiled. It lit up his whole face and made him glow with celestial beauty. “Because Ben must be reborn, this time in the body originally intended for him.”

Micah walked up to Regan, his posture straight and regal, his expression almost tender. He reached out to touch her, and she shrank away from him, repulsed by the proximity of the creature who’d led Ben to his death.

“Don’t be afraid.” His hand glowed, and suddenly so did she. “He is not lost to you. He lives inside you now, grows within your womb.”

Micah’s words sank in, and a tingle spread through her, starting low in her belly.

A child. Marcus’s child.

She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, so she did neither.

“Ben’s frail human body was never meant to house his soul for long,” Micah said. “I’m surprised he survived this long.” He directed a pointed stare Marcus’s way. “You were so out of touch with your feelings, so determined to remain loyal to Cal, you would’ve thwarted your own destiny had I not intervened.”

Marcus’s features grew granite-hard. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I dropped your soul mate in your lap and you failed to recognize her.” Micah shook his head, as though awed by Marcus’s ignorance. “Ben should’ve come into existence years ago. But you were too stubborn. You left me no choice. I had to use a human vessel and practically deliver your old soul to your doorstep for you to finally see the light.”

Regan could’ve sworn Marcus flushed. Cal eyed him curiously, Jace’s brows were two questioning arches on his forehead, and Lia stood in a distant corner watching them with a knowing look on her face.

So everyone was now aware of what Regan and Marcus had done last night. Cal had been told in no uncertain terms that two of his prized recruits had broken their blood vows—every last one of them. If this wasn’t a wish-the-ground-would-open-up-and-swallow-me moment, she didn’t know what was. Regan felt naked, stripped bare for all to see.

Marcus cleared his throat. “There’s something I still don’t get.” The man had a knack for changing the subject when things got uncomfortable. “Why weren’t we flash-fried along with the others?”

“Because you are the chosen.” Micah’s voice tinkled with pride, as though he’d handpicked them himself. “You all bear heaven’s mark.”

“What mark?” Regan asked, confused.

Marcus’s jaw tightened. Something shifted in his eyes. “The heart-shaped birthmark.”

Regan’s hand instinctively rose to her chest, her palm settling between her breasts.

“It may look like a heart, but it is actually the letter H in Enochian script. You all have it.” Micah pointed to Regan. “Yours is positioned where your hand now rests.” He nodded toward Marcus. “Yours in on your right shoulder blade.” He glanced at Lia. “Yours is also on your shoulder.” He turned Jace’s way.

“Don’t look at me,” Jace interjected. “I don’t have any birthmarks.”

An old memory blossomed in Regan’s mind—a picture of her holding her newborn son in her arms, hours before she’d handed him over to his father and never looked back. “Yes, you do.” She swallowed hard, knowing full well she was about to reveal her secret to Cal, for the first time not caring. “On the back of your skull. Your hair hides it, but when you were an infant I saw it. It’s exactly like mine.”

Cal didn’t look as surprised as she’d expected. She met his penetrating silver stare. “Well, aren’t you going to say anything?”

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but there’s nothing in this world that can shock me anymore. I learned a very long time ago that things are rarely what they appear to be. Everyone has secrets.”

“What about you, Cal?” Marcus centered his incisive stare on his leader. “Do you have one, too?” The tension that filled the cave was thick enough to slice. “A birthmark,” he clarified.

They all waited expectantly, but Cal had grown mute. It was Micah who finally replied. “He doesn’t have one.”

Regan didn’t think it possible, but the hush surrounding them swelled.

“So how’d he survive the blast?” Marcus voiced the question hovering on the tip of her tongue.

“The same way I did.” Micah’s countenance held no guile, only truth.

Cal’s face crumpled, and he appeared crushed beneath an unbearable weight of his own making. He closed his eyes, drew in a shaky breath, but he was unable to find his voice.

“You’re an angel.” Regan couldn’t believe her own words.

Marcus released a mouthful of expletives. “All this time, and I never realized—” He shook his head. “What a goddamn fool I was.”

Micah flinched. “I would appreciate it if you refrained from swearing in my presence.”

“And if I don’t? What the hell are you going to do about it?” He was lashing out at the angel, shooting the messenger. Regan understood his anger, his sense of betrayal. Cal was like a father to him. A father who’d shamelessly lied to him his entire life. Marcus directed an accusing stare at Jace. “You knew, didn’t you? You’ve known all along.”

Jace looked down at his muddy boots. “I figured it out in the catacombs last summer.”

Marcus’s attention shifted to Lia. “How ’bout you? Did you know, as well?”

She shook her head. “My memories of that day are still blurry. I’ve had flashes, though. None of them made any sense until now.”

Micah grinned, fanning his arms out like wings. “Well, it appears this is a night for revelations.”

Cal stabbed the angel with a lethal glare. “I think you’ve outstayed your welcome. The Seraphim Council must be anxiously awaiting your return.”

“And I am eager to return to the celestial realm. Earth can be such a tedious place.” He released a laborious breath. “I can’t comprehend how you’ve endured it for six millennia.”

Something inside Regan squeezed at the wistful longing that crossed Cal’s face. “There is nothing to endure. This is my home now.”