Soul Stealer (11 page)

“On one condition,” he finally said.

Peter nodded. “Name it.”

“I get my old abilities back. I know you can do it.”

“We will not send you out among mortals with the ability to impede their own free will, Voro. That is non-negotiable.”

“Then give me back everything else. I can see who’s glowing and all that but who gives a shit. I want to be able to smell an evil fucker coming and know exactly what he’s done with just a scan of his brain. Otherwise I might end up clocking someone who doesn’t glow just because they’re selfish or some shit.”

Peter rubbed a hand over his head. “I’ll have to ask Jehoel. He’ll have to run it up even higher.”

“Just do it. I want him back too, okay? You’re all as boring as fuck and I find myself actually missing the guy.”

Peter nodded. “Give me a minute. I’ll call for Jehoel.”

He left the room and Voro sighed loudly. Was he really considering going back to the land of the living to try and save an angel?
Him?
Sin Eater extraordinaire for over 600 years, the longest-serving of his kind in the history of his craft?

After a moment of contemplation, he brought his head down on the tabletop in front of him loudly.

Just as he thought; this side was making him dumber.

Chapter Eleven

The pounding pain behind his eyes receded slightly, and when Raphael opened them again she was still there, clutching his hand, her cool fingers in his hair.

Dreaming. He had to be dreaming because humans can’t touch angels. It’s impossible. And even if they
could, it wouldn’t feel this
fantastic.

Yeah, he was dreaming.

Her eyes met his steadily, even though they were rimmed with unshed tears at the moment. That made him frown. If this was a dream he found it absolutely wonderful. Why should she be crying?

He recognized her slowly. She’d been in the apartment that he broke the door down to. She’d been huddled in a bright-white glowing ball, but she’d looked up as he’d com
e in, and her face had become peaceful. Calm. Relieved.

He’d saved her. That’s why he was dreaming about her.

A drop of water hit his wrist, and he looked down. It was warm, but as it slid off his arm it left a cooling trail behind. That made him frown, too.

She was biting her lip as she looked at him. She had freckles on her nose and cheeks. He hadn’t seen them until now. Her mahogany hair didn’t quite reach her shoulders, but it was held back on each side anyway, stick-straight and under control. Why w
as she sobbing next to his bed?

He
swiveled his head around. This wasn’t his bed. He had no idea where he was. Panic flared in his chest, and the woman next to him gasped as his grip tightened on her hand. He felt bad and eased up on …

… her hand. In his. Definitely touching him.

His pulse started racing, he could distinctly hear it, and there was a beeping in the room that was keeping up with the in-and-out of his sprinting heart. He cranked his head around to see what was above his head and saw a blinking monitor, displaying his pulse on a digital screen.

He opened his mouth to breathe better, but it didn’t help. Why was he in a hospital? What could possibly have him stuck here?

He closed eyes. Tried to go back home. There was no tingling feeling, no release of gravity. He only felt the mattress and the sheet and …

… her hand. She was talking to him now. “Easy big guy … hey, it’s okay. You’re somewhere safe. We’re going to take care of you. I promise it.”

He kept up with the breathing through his mouth as he opened his eyes. He hoped he didn’t look as wild as he felt. He couldn’t be here, this was all completely impossible, like he’d broken all the rules.

Blackness. A shadow of everything evil throughout history, rolling across his skin at once, leaving him feeling like he’d been flayed and left out in the desert. That was the last thing he remembered.

Something passed through him in her apartment, but he wasn’t dead. He just wasn’t himself, right? He was breathing. He could smell disinfectants and the bleach in the sheets around him. And under all that something slightly sweeter.

His eyes flicked back to the woman. It was her. She wore a bit of perfume, or maybe a scented lotion. It was faint, but it stayed within his nose. Lovely, really.

She was still murmuring comforting things, and as he listened to the nonsensical assurances his heart went back to a rate where his breathing could keep up with it. When she tried to take her hand away he tightened his grip, looking at her again. Her gaze was one of surprise.

“You … are just so lovely,” he said, hearing the weakness in his voice.

She gave a short chuckle, and the sound set off pulses across his skin like he’d never known before. “No,” she said very softly. “I’m really not.”

He closed his eyes as a sensation raced down him, seeming to centre right on that spot b
etween his legs. What the hell? His eyes flicked open, looking to her and hoping like mad she had no idea what was going on under the blankets.

“You are,” he said anyway, wanting her to keep talking. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

She frowned down at him. “Do you … do you remember me then?”

He nodded, enthralled suddenly by that hot urgency he’d never felt before. He knew he was getting an erection; how he recognized the feeling he had no idea.

“I remember,” he finally said, realizing he was just staring at her while his body went completely crazy on him.

She leaned forward, licking her lips slightly, very focused on him again. “What did you see? Why did you break down my door? How’d you know I needed help?”

His eyes were locked on those lips, now glossy from where she’d licked them. He had the insane urge to touch them with his own, see if they tasted as sweet as they looked …

Raphael must have leaned towards her because she backed up abruptly, letting go of him. It surprised him so much he let her take her hand back, but his palms instantly missed the warmth of her. And that slab of flesh between his legs jerked in protest, too.

”Sorry,” he said, reaching down to bunch the blankets up around himself, hopefully camouflaging his erection. He nearly barked in pain as his hand hit it.

“I’ll get your doctor,” she said thinly as she spun and headed out of the room.

Raphael lay flat on his back, his body throbbing in one spot urgently enough that it was all he felt. He took deep breaths, waiting for the pain to recede. As it did he felt everything going to back to normal. His blood all rushed back to where it was supposed to be.

How in the world was he in a mortal hospital? How was she able to touch him without being fried? And what was wrong with him that he couldn’t dematerialize to his own side?

He closed his eyes and tried to get a reading on the location of his comrades but came up with zilch. Same result for the presence of people. For all he could tell he was alone on this floor. There were no brain wave patterns from any humans around him. Actually, he hadn’t been able to sense that nurse’s brain waves either –

Actually, she’d looked normal to him, hadn’t she? She wasn’t glowing anymore.

Panic started to return. How in the hell –

B
ad choice of words.

Raphael forced his brain to settle down. Panic wasn’t going to get him anywhere. He had to take stock of what was wrong with him.

He eased up on to his elbows, catching sight of his feet at the foot of the bed. He had both arms, both legs. Good news. Nothing was hurting, other than the remnant ache of an erection, that is. He’d been unconscious though, that much was sure. His pounding headache upon waking seemed evidence of that.

He remembered being on the street with Voro. Then his senses had taken over, leading him to that apartment door. He’d kicked it in, only knowing that someone inside was in danger and something bad was in that room. She’d been protecting herself futilely with arms over her head. He’d felt her comfort at his arrival.

But what had knocked him out? That shadow?

Clearly it wasn’t just a shadow. That was what had called to him, caught his attention, caused such urgency for him to go find this woman before she fell into its grip.

An evil shadow. Well, there were stranger things.

He yawned then, his jaw cracking, and he gave into the urge to reach his arms over his head and arch his back in one full-body stretch. Man, that felt fantastic, even as his back cracked and his shoulders popped. He’d never stretched before, either.

A man came through the doorway then, the nurse close on his heels, explaining that she never thought he was going to attack her. She was convinced he’d been helping her.

She’s talking about me, Raphael realized as the doctor flipped the chart closed and smiled pleasantly down on him.

Raphael swallowed so loud he was sure the two of them felt it. He knew the doc’s nametag read Veneratio Aubericus, and Raphael was in no way, shape or form allowed to be talking to this guy.

Shit.

Voro stood alone in the portal room, remembering what Jehoel had told him. The angels could track him, knew where he’d be, and if he needed to he could just reach out and call for them. They’d be “tuned in,” so to speak.

And when he needed to come back, all he had to do was click his heels three times …

He caught himself about to laugh, and then stopped. Giddiness meant he was nervous, and that was a bad thing. He never used to get nervous about anything.

Concentrate on the portal, close your eyes and let yourself fall. That’s what Jehoel told him to do to get back to their side. You fell to get to the human world; you melted to get back here.

He closed his eyes, feeling the stuffy air of this little room. He took in a good gulp of it, letting it out slow, then just let himself drop.

It was like a dream that jars you awake, but instead of suddenly coming out of it just before you face-plant on the ground, realizing you’re in fact still tucked all
cozy in your comfortable bed, you opened your eyes and were …

… on the street, right outside that apartment where all the big bad bogeyman shit happened.

Voro turned to the traffic, taking in the stink of the city. It felt familiar again. And the people? Yeah, they still shone. But when he focused on the woman writing out a ticket and tucking it under the wiper of a minivan, he was able to get into her head and call up a memory she had from that morning, her and her husband making love quickly in the shower before the kids got up. She was thinking about it at that time, that’s the first thing that got to him.

He had to smile. He was so back. And he was solid this time. Under his shoes he was aware of the hard sidewalk, even felt the bit of gravel scrape under his heel as he turned back to the apartment building. The doorman held the door for him. Yep, back and solid.

He took the elevator up to the fourth floor, finding his way to the apartment with just his own internal sensors. The police tape was unneeded.

Voro knew this evil. The feeling of it was like slipping into
pajamas for him; familiar and comforting. Hell, the apartment almost felt exactly like home now that his angel senses were on mute.

It felt fantastic. If only he could still do some Sin Eating, he’d completely feel like himself again.

He froze suddenly, door standing open just behind him. Someone else was in here, he could smell it. And it was a smell he knew. Very well.

Voro felt a growl build in the back of his throat, and he swallowed it to avoid being heard. He instantly hardened in his jeans, even though it had been months since that appendage had a chance to dally on this side. But it remembered that scent, that’s for sure.

Claudia, Claudia was here.

Voro’s brain was short-circuiting with the need to go to her, cover her body with his and get inside her in as many ways as possible. Even for him the reaction was alarming. Maybe it was because it had just been so long …

He left the door open and moved across the hardwood silently, reaching the area rug having not made a sound. He could feel Claudia ahead of him; he could even smell her tension and adrenaline.

Something else was here too, and it took him a moment to override his visceral want of her body and pay attention to the malice that was waiting for her just at the end of the hall. It knew she was there, and it was waiting for her.

Voro forced himself to slow down. He had to help Claudia, yes. But he wasn’t entirely sure what was in that room, either. It had no human attributes that he could get a reading on. It was black, fuzzy, threatening and annoyed that someone was about to interrupt it. And it would react with great force. Even now it was gearing up, a coiling snake-like puff of smoke, ready to spring forward.

He found Claudia’s head, and wanted to tell her to stop where she was. But of course, that was no longer part of his bags of tricks. She had free will, and he couldn’t stop her from doing something dangerous.

Voro paused, then took the button from his jacket and pressed it to the paint job of the hallway, allowing it to scrape along the wall as he moved back away from her.

As expected, she paused where she was.

He kept it up, backing into the living room.

Even the evil dust bunny in the back bedroom heard it and stopped whatever the hell it was doing. He felt it turn its attention his way, and something scanned through him like a warm X-ray to the millionth power. It made him stop in awe.

Claudia’s gun was around the corner first, and it was level with his chest. He felt bad, but he stepped forward and forced her arms upwards, trying to get her turned around so she couldn’t see him.

It didn’t work. She elbowed him in the gut, allowing him to point the gun at the ceiling but knocking out his breath all the same. She straightened up fast, ready to nail him again with her fist, but then she froze when she saw him.

Ahh dammit. This really won’t do.

He ignored what was doing in his chest as her face registered as nothing less than an open book of shock. He didn’t concentrate on the fact that his heart ached, and his body all but sighed to be holding her in his arms again. But his eyes found hers anyway, and he didn’t like the haunted and longing look he saw in them.

Christ, he’d really missed her.

She recovered faster than he did, jamming her hand roughly under his chin and shoving him back. It surprised him and he let go of the gun, but so had she. It hit the ground with a clatter as she ran at him, tackling him and taking him down to the shag area rug.