Soul Taker (27 page)

"Listen," Harrison intervened. "I think this
time around Izzie, you better stay put. If the Mahoneys didn't
survive, chances are…"

She lifted her hands and gave him a hint of a
smile. "Fine. I get it, boys. You don't have to explain further."
She turned and packed her bag. Once done, she zipped it up and
slung the strap over her shoulder. "I'll need a ride home,
Harrison." She then looked at Garran. "Thanks for the lesson. I'll
see you tomorrow night then?" she asked.

He gave her a slight nod, actually pleased
she wanted to continue the training.

"Good. I'll be in the car," she said over her
shoulder as she strode out the door, giving Garran a lovely view of
her backside. He did love how her garments hung in all the right
places.

Garran sighed as he looked at Harrison,
suspicion lacing his words. "Why do I find her sudden agreement to
let us handle this alone way too easy?"

Chapter Forty-Two

Isabella should be exhausted after her
workout with Garran, but instead she found herself wound up and a
tad pissed off too. Harrison dragged her into the preternatural
world, but took Garran's side when he said she should sit things
out. How dare they decide what she could and couldn't do, but to
continue and argue the point would gain her no ground to the
contrary. She needed another plan to prove her worth and stop them
from believing she was this little girl they needed to babysit.

She let herself into the apartment and
slammed the door behind her.

Her brother burst out of his bedroom, an
array of emotions made his aura shift colors, the dark clouds of
worry blended with his normal hue of shades of blues and gold.
"Where have you been? I've been calling your cell all night." He
wore a bathrobe and clutched a book in one hand. He'd been waiting
up for her.

"When did you get back? I thought you were
supposed to be gone a few days." She skirted around his question as
she placed her keys and workout bag down, hoping to come up with a
good explanation to where she'd been.

"It was only a weekend seminar. I decided to
come home tonight
and
you're changing the subject."

She sighed. She could never pull a fast one
on her brother. "I was at my…class."

"A class that runs until after midnight?"

Was it really that late? She'd lost track of
time. "What? Are you my mother?" She stormed past him into the
kitchen, flipping on a light. Nicholas followed her.

She opened the refrigerator and took out the
leftover lasagna. She was starved and no wonder after the workout
Garran put her through.

"No, but I was worried about you."

She dished a generous helping onto a plate
and covered it with a paper towel before placing it in the
microwave. She turned to face Nicholas. Worry lines etched his
brow, making her feel guilty. "Listen, I'm fine. Really. I'm taking
a self-defense class." She wasn't exactly lying. "Want to see what
I've learned?" She gave him a right jab to his arm. Her brother
didn't crack a smile.

"First, you ask me about the gun and now a
self-defense class? What's all this about, Izzie?"

"You don't want to hear it, so why ask?" She
turned away, but he grabbed her arm.

"I'm listening."

Her gaze met his and held. For about half a
second she thought of telling him about Harrison and Garran, but
she quickly vetoed the idea. Her brother would be upset if he knew
she experimented with their family's craft.

She sensed Nicholas could see things
Otherworldly, as she did, but because of their parents' death, he'd
sworn not to practice or give in to the calling. Did he know
vampires and werewolves existed, too? Their mother clearly had, and
her journal proved it.

Silence continued to radiate between them
like an impending thundercloud ready to burst, but there would be
no release tonight.

The microwave beeped, but she'd lost her
appetite. She didn't like keeping secrets from her brother, but she
knew he would try to stop her from seeing Garran and Harrison
again.

"I'm going to my room." She opened the
microwave and took out the plate of lasagna then grabbed a fork
from the drawer.

"Izzie, wait?"

She didn't look back as she headed for her
room. She slammed the door behind her. A few minutes later, she
heard Nicholas' bedroom door close too.

"What am I doing?" She didn't keep secrets
from Nicholas. She sighed. Maybe she wouldn't have to anymore. She
could just step away now. Harrison and Garran could have used her
help, but the
monster squad
patted her on the head and sent
her home.

She'd only taken a few bites of the lasagna
before she placed the plate down on her dresser. She didn't want to
go back to the kitchen and have Nicholas confront her again. She'd
clean the plate in the morning.

She dressed for bed in an old comfortable
T-shirt and shorts. She didn't think she could sleep, but once her
head hit the pillow, her eyes felt heavy and she didn't fight it.
She relaxed and let herself drift into the world of dreams.

She stood in a cave. She knew she slept, but
she also knew this wasn't her dream, but a memory of Garran's…

Garran moved deeper into the cave, away from
the sun that blinded him. His body shook, but not from the cold.
One glance at Rory and he knew he wasn't faring any better than he
was.

"We're goin' to die here," Rory said.

"Do no' be losin' hope just, yet," Garran
told him. "When the blasted sun sets, we'll venture out and—"

"And what?" Rory interrupted. "Find blood so
we will live?"

"I don't like it any better than ye do, but
ye know we do no' have a choice. We will find an animal. Mayhap,
its blood will suffice."

Rory slid to the ground, clasping his hands
around his knees. "She made us vile creatures."

"Aye, but it was Alexander who sent us to
her. Ye should blame him."

"I'd like to do more than that." Rory licked
his cracked lips. "Are we to live like animals for the rest of our
lives, hidin' out in caves until we venture out again to hunt?"

"We canno' go home. I do no' know of ye, but
my thirst for blood is gettin' stronger every day. I crave it. We
will have to drink soon." Garran knew it was hopeless to wish for
home. They had the English breathing down their backs, and now the
bloodlust to contend with. Both would put their families in
danger.

"Moira, will wonder what became of me," Rory
said.

"Ye canno' go to her. Ye will make her like
us or worse, ye could kill her."

"I know." He closed his eyes and leaned his
head against the wall of the cave. "I canno' go on like this. He
opened his eyes and looked at Garran. "I beg of ye to end my
life."

Panic encircled Garran's heart threatening to
shatter it. "Ye do no' mean it."

"What good are we?"

Garran didn't have the answers, but he had to
hope there was a reason they were tested thus.

It wasn't until the third night of their
plight that they ventured out to hunt. They caught sight of another
demon like them. They watched her stalk a deer. Her weapon was only
her wits. She stared into the deer's eyes as if hypnotizing it to
do her will.

The animal wasn't afraid of her and even
moved closer. It was like poetry in motion as the deer stood there,
letting the woman caress it. She murmured words, but he could not
make them out. Then in one fluent move, she sank her fangs into its
neck.

It stood there, a willing sacrifice with no
fear, and when the beast sank to the ground, so did she until she
had drunk her fill. She lifted her head and looked in their
direction, causing them to stumble back into the shadows as if this
would hide them. Both Rory and he were fools.

Their eyesight had improved, allowing them to
see heat patterns from long distances away. It only made sense this
demon could see them as well.

She was upon them so quickly they hadn't time
to draw their swords. She tilted her lovely head to the side as if
she were deciding what sort of animal they represented. Then a
smile curved her lips. "You are both newly made—by Fallon, I
presume." The disgust in her voice told what she felt about their
maker. Her gaze was unnerving as if she sought to read their
thoughts. "You have not fed in a while. If you wait too long the
thirst will rule your actions." She turned to go, but Garran halted
her. They needed her guidance.

"Could ye show us how?" he braved to ask.

She eyed them again. "Fallon did not teach
you?"

"We had no wish to be changed and we did no'
want to be her slaves."

She pursed her lips, then nodded. "Come then.
I shall introduce you to the Sidhe. Leathan foresaw a change for
the blood drinkers. Perhaps you are both what he referred to."

The she-demon's name was Verity. She was
indeed a vampyre, but of a different sept than Rory and he were
from. Her sept—the Dearg-due—showed restraint for the humans who
lived around them. Their oath was to never harm or they would
endure the holy fires of hell. They sacrificed animals to stay the
blood lust until they were fully mated.

Verity spoke of one day finding her one true
soul mate. They would share each other's blood to survive, but she
had yet to find him.

The MacLaurin stronghold was not far from
where Verity and her sept lived, but Garran and Rory never knew of
this clan's existence, and now they understood why. The sept stayed
hidden from view, disappearing into their surroundings like
will-o'-wisps. They were silent and fast. If a mortal sensed them,
it was only as a spirit. They wanted to live in peace, with no wish
to be hunted down like beasts.

It was a far cry to what Fallon had to offer.
She and her minions sought havoc, instigated war and bloodshed. She
thought nothing of draining a human dry. Sometimes she took a man's
blood. Other times she drained their essence. As far as Garran
believed, either way she stole her victims' souls. Fallon thought
humans beneath her and easily dismissed.

Garran and Rory were given a choice by the
Sidhe, the god-like fae who ruled the faery glens and managed the
stones. They must conform to the vampires of the glens or die.

Garran and Rory had died once already, and
that proved enough for them. Leathan saw to their training and
learning the art of restraint.

"There is a soul mate for each of us."
Leathan placed a hand on Garran's forearm. "You will one day find
yours."

"I don't believe in soul mates and
destinies." Garran's words were laced with sad longing.

"But you will," Leathan insisted. "You may
not like what fate has handed you, but if you had gone back to your
stronghold, the English would have taken you prisoner. You would be
dead."

"I am dead, Leathan, or have ye forgotten? I
have no clan, no true home. I am no' human and I am no' one of the
Sidhe. Truth be told, I am no' a true vampyre either." He looked at
Leathan. "What future does a Grim Sith truly have when there is no
true home?"

"We all must make our way in the world,"
Leathan said. "Your life is not over. It has only taken a different
path. It is up to you, what you shall do with it."

Isabella woke with a start. She knew she
could not be seen in Garran's dream world… the link to his
memories, but she noticed everything as if she had been there to
witness the events.

Sights, sounds, and smells were all part of
the experience. Leathan, the Sidhe who had taken them in, had
golden hair and a bronze aura that radiated the warmth of
truth.

She could still feel Garran's loneliness, his
despair, his need to belong. She understood those things so well.
She had felt as if she didn't belong too. Her gift proved a curse
more times than not. It made her different, when all she wanted was
to be like everyone else.

Unlike Garran, Isabella believed in fate;
that one met people for a reason. With Harrison and Garran, she
didn't feel like a freak. She didn't have to hide what she saw and
pretend everything would be all right. She'd taken a different
path
when Harrison asked for her help. She liked where this
path took her and she had no intentions of changing course now.

Her gaze landed on the alarm clock, sitting
on her nightstand. She dreamed weeks of Garran's life, but she'd
only dozed for twenty minutes. She wasn't too late. She pulled back
the covers and headed over to her closet, throwing open the
doors.

She yanked on a pair of black leggings and
chose the black formfitting exercise shirt. The outfit would
camouflage her and also allow her to move fast, if her defense
moves were needed. On the top shelf, she removed the tool belt
she'd used for an art class she took in college, while she tried to
figure out what she wanted to do with her life. She had an
associate degree, but when the economy suffered, so did business at
the restaurant. She dropped out of school to help Nicholas run the
restaurant.

She fingered the tool belt with fond
memories.

The belt was lightweight, but sturdy. She
could easily use it to secure a gun, cell phone…flashlight…among
other things.

Once dressed, she opened her purse and
grabbed the Glock and secured it to her belt. She then lifted the
edge of her mattress and retrieved her mother's journal. She
flipped to the page with the incantation to send the
undead's
soul back to the veil. It wasn't a difficult spell.
She just needed to memorize the Latin phrases and the basis of the
chant.

She scanned the page, wondering if there was
a way to send just one vampire's soul into the veil. She feared if
she tried to send one, all vampires in close range would be in
danger of having their souls returned to the other side. If that
were the case, this spell would be useless. She couldn't risk using
it, if Garran was close by.