Soul Taker (33 page)

"And who makes the delivery?" Garran
asked.

"I don't know who, but the new honcho that's
heading up this territory knows all about it. Hell, I think he may
have something to do with setting it up. I was given a phone
number. The last four digits spell out
soul.
Easy to
remember, if you know what I mean. I got the number from a friend,
who got it at a party his cousin threw."

"Nice, a friend of a friend kind of deal,"
Harrison cursed. "And dumb wad, the head honcho has you by the
throat and he didn't sanction the phone deal."

The incubus looked at Garran and nervously
licked his lips. "Hey, man, I didn't know."

Garran chose to ignore his plea of innocence.
"And how does this person deliver the soul?"

"In a bauble. I make the call and it arrives
on my doorstep. I swear it's all I know. Now let me go."

"No," Isabella blurted out without thinking.
"You can't let him go. He has someone's soul trapped inside of
him."

The incubus glared at her, his eyes burning
like blue fire as his gaze swept over her. "Stay out of this,
human. If you step a little closer, I'll—"

His last words were a gurgle of surprise. His
hands flew to his throat, blood flowing from a wound at his
jugular.

Garran had been so fast. Isabella hadn't even
seen him move. The incubus slumped to the ground and she stood
frozen in her spot, staring at the morbid scene.

Garran looked at her. "The trapped soul—has
it left his body?"

She blinked at the sound of his voice. "Uh…"
Her gaze wavered over the incubus. As the guy's eyes began to dull,
and his own life force flickered, the soul he'd stolen broke free
in a ray of colors and light. "Yes. It's gone."

"Izzie." Harrison drew her attention. "You
should go back inside now."

She knew by the way he looked at her that his
words were meant as a warning. She wouldn't like what was coming
next any more than what she had seen so far.

"Nay, she should stay," Garran said and held
her gaze. "If ye want to be a part of this
team
and no' stay
home when told, then there should be no coddlin'. Aye?"

He meant to scare her, but heck it was too
late for that. He was right though. She couldn't pick and choose
what she wanted to know if she was to earn her respect with these
two. "I'm staying."

When Garran swooped in and removed the
incubus' head, it proved too late to reconsider her conviction. Her
stomach rebelled and she painted the door with her dinner.

Note to self: no Italian food before
missions.

"Dammit, Garran," Harrison growled. He strode
toward her, but she held up her hand.

"No, I'm fine. No coddling." She wiped her
mouth with the back of her hand and met Garran's gaze. She tilted
her chin in defiance. She wouldn't let him shut her out.

"You aren't fine," Harrison spoke up. "I'm
taking you home. You had enough of an introduction for one
night."

For once, she didn't argue. Garran wanted to
shock her. Well, he did, but she wouldn't be shocked the next
time—and there would be a next time, even if he believed there
wouldn't be.

Chapter Fifty

Isabella had the lunch shift at the
restaurant today. She avoided Nicholas with the pretense of helping
Mario prepare the meals. When they were caught up, she spent more
time with the patrons than deemed necessary. However, it looked
like her brother wasn't going to put up with it. He wanted a word
with her and he wasn't going to wait a moment longer for her to
find the time.

"Where have you been every night this week?"
Nicholas followed Isabella to the kitchen.

"Mario, I need two ravioli specials with a
Caesar and a house salad." Isabella turned to face her brother.
"I've been out. I'm on time to work. What's the problem?"

"What's the problem? You disappear at all
times of the night. Makes me wonder what you're up to? What you're
involved
in?"

She swept by him through the swinging doors,
and he followed her. "I'm consorting with vampires and werewolves,"
she shot. "Those are their hours."

"Real cute," he said, obviously not believing
her.

"You asked." She shrugged.

"I expect you to tell me the truth."

"No, you don't." She strode over to the table
where a lone customer looked to be studying the menu with great
interest. He held the folder up and close to his face. "May I take
your order?"

The man slowly lowered the menu, revealing
his identity.

Isabella recoiled in terror as a wave of
nausea swept through her, making her limbs feel like wet noodles.
"You," she accused, her voice a rough whisper of disbelief. The sun
hadn't set. How could he be here?

His mouth slid into a snakelike grin. "Good
afternoon, Isabella." Alexander's voice caressed her ears. His
angelic face glowed, but his soulless eyes latched onto her, making
her shiver.

"Who is this?" Her brother walked up behind
her.

"No one, Nicholas."

"I'll take his order then," Nicholas
volunteered, obviously sensing there was a problem and being the
big brother he was, he decided to smooth it over. He was always
trying to protect her, but this time he couldn't.

"No," both Alexander and Isabella said at the
same time.

She narrowed her eyes at Alexander, willing
him to remain quiet. She needed Nicholas to walk away before
Alexander lashed out at him. "Nicholas, you should check on the
Morellis' order." She nodded to the couple sitting a few tables
over.

"Izzie, I—" Nicholas began, but she
interrupted with urgency even her brother couldn't fail to
notice.

"Please," she implored.

"Aye, please." Alexander waved his hand in
front of him as a dismissal.

Why was Alexander trying to provoke a
confrontation?

Nicholas narrowed his eyes and took a step
toward Alexander's table, but Isabella stepped in front of him, her
hand on his chest as if her gesture would hold him back. "Nicholas,
I
said
I would handle this."

Her brother pushed her aside, glaring down at
Alexander. "I believe you need to leave."

Alexander bared his teeth with a hiss.

"What in the name of God?" Nicholas stumbled
back, but it was too late. Alexander had leapt to his feet and
grabbed Nicholas by his head and twisted it with a quick jerk. The
awful crack resounded off the walls, deafening the room until
Isabella screamed.

Alexander let go of Nicholas and his body
fell to the floor, his neck at an odd angle, his eyes staring
blindly at her.

Alexander's lips curved into an evil smile of
triumph as he looked at her. "What shall I do with ye?" His feet
moved toward her, stalking her.

Her gaze landed on the door, willing Garran
to enter. Where was he?

"He's no' comin'," Alexander sneered. "Ye're
mine now. No bloodin' will keep ye from me."

"No, I will never be yours." She turned and
ran toward the kitchen, knowing it was useless to run, but she
wouldn't make her capture easy for Alexander. She would fight.

Alexander's laughter followed her like a
perverted chortle that had a life of its own. "I love cat and mouse
games."

Mario came into view, wiping his hands on his
apron. "I hear screams."

"Run, Mario," she warned. "Go out the back.
Now!"

"What has happened?"

"We're in danger. Go!"

Mario didn't question her further but
followed behind her. Alexander flitted with the speed of light and
blocked their escape. Before they could retreat back the way they
came, Alexander flitted again, grabbing Mario in a chokehold.

"Nooooo!" She begged, then looked skyward
with a prayer. "Garran, where are you?"

"I'm here."

She whirled around to see him standing behind
her, a warrior with a broadsword in his hand.

"Ye can wake up now," he told her, his gray
eyes meeting hers.

"What?" Her brows furrowed.

"Wake up," he demanded.

Chapter Fifty-One

Isabella bolted upright in her bed, drawing
in air as if she'd been denied the substance for far too long. Her
heart pounded against her chest. "A nightmare. Only a nightmare."
She swung her legs over the side of the bed, her body trembling,
the fear she felt in the dream still too vivid. "Nicholas…" He was
still alive and probably sound asleep in his room. She still had
the urge to fly down the hall to check on him.

Her phone vibrated against the wood of her
end table in an urgent dance to be answered. She leaned over and
picked up. "Hello."

"Are ye okay?" Garran's voice was reassuring,
all thoughts of his demanding behavior earlier in the evening
forgotten—at least for the moment.

"You were in my dream." It wasn't a question,
but she wanted conformation.

"We're linked. I felt yer distress."

She closed her eyes.
Dream… Linked…
Safe…
She should have realized it was a dream from the
beginning. Alexander couldn't venture out in the daylight. "I'm
fine now." She brushed her hair back away from her face. "Alexander
was there in my dream."

He sighed on the other end. "Alexander cannot
break our bond. It is too strong a bridge and he knows no' to cross
it without givin' me his whereabouts. It is why he chanced
confrontin' us at the hospital. Tonight… it was only a
nightmare."

"I dreamt Alexander killed Nicholas."

"I'm aware."

"I can't lose him, Garran. He's all I
have."

"We'll keep him out of this."

"What if he's already involved because of me?
What if I endangered him because I'm…"

"…helping Harrison and me?" he finished.

"Yes." She leaned over and turned on her
lamp, the light bathed her room in warmth. She never feared the
dark until now, until she learned monsters really did lurk in the
shadows.

"Try to sleep," he told her. His soft brogue
calmed her. "We will end this soon."

"Garran?"

"Hmm?"

"You'll kill him this time, won't you?"

"That is the plan."

"He won't play fair," she said.

"Oh aye, this I already know. Alexander was a
snake when he was human. I just refused to see it until it was too
late."

"No, that's not true." She gripped the
phone.

"What isn't?"

"Alexander once worshipped you. In one of
your memories... Alexander's aura was pure."

Garran sighed heavily on the other end. "But
then he changed, and I don't believe it was when Fallon made him a
Grim Sith. He'd already taken a darker path, she just pushed him
along."

"Perhaps. He was so very young… and to be
thrust into battles and forced to kill to survive… Maybe…" she let
the sentence slip away.

"We were all young," Garran voice had a rough
edge to it.

She knew it was true. "I would never make
excuses for Alexander, but perhaps some men can…cope better than
others." She closed her eyes, not wanting to have any sympathy
toward Alexander and what he endured. Garran had suffered a similar
fate, but he didn't go around sucking the souls out of people.

"Ye have a kind heart, Isabella Lucci."

She opened her eyes. "Garran?"

"I'm here."

"I can't go back to sleep."

There was a long pause before he spoke again.
"Do ye want me to come over?"

"I don't want to trouble you."

"It's no bother. There's plenty of time
before the sun will make an appearance. Ye need yer rest—and I only
say this because I care about ye. It's no' an insult."

Her lips twitched. "I know."

"I'm sorry about earlier… at Tony's. I didn't
want ye there. I mean… I worry about ye. Ye tell me ye don't want
ye brother harmed. Well, I do no' want ye to be harmed either." He
paused as if admitting he cared for her was an emotion he hadn't
experience in a long time. Before she could comment, he changed the
subject. "I'll be there in a few seconds."

Garran was a walking contradiction. He wanted
her gone. He wanted her safe. He wanted her help. He wanted…

As she placed the phone on her nightstand,
there was a knock at the front door. "He couldn't have gotten here
that fast," she murmured.
Could he?
She hurried to answer it
before her brother woke up, and questioned her.

She looked through the peephole before she
undid the latch and let Garran in. "I know you said you'd be here
in a second. I didn't actually believe you meant it. How did you
get here so fast?"

He gave her a sheepish grin. "I was parked
downstairs."

"Really?"

His large shoulders lifted in a shrug. "I've
parked out front the last few nights."

"I wish you would have told me."

"Would ye have been fine if I told ye I
was?"

"No, I guess not." She stared at him, taking
in his dark chinos, black shirt and leather jacket, the one with
the bullet hole. Her hand slid over the tear. If he had been human,
she could have killed him. "Why do you keep this?"

His hand covered hers. His flesh was always
slightly cool, but warmth spread through her at his touch. "It's my
favorite jacket." She met his eyes, his gaze saying so much more.
"I couldn't replace it. Ye know, memories…"

She swallowed back the lump in her throat and
backed up a few steps. "Let me slip into something… a little more
appropriate."

His gaze swept over her in appreciation and
his lips twitched. "Don't do so on my account. Ye look rather
fetchin' in a Red Sox T-shirt." His gaze lingered on her long legs
and she pulled at the T-shirt, willing it to be longer. "Barefoot
is a nice touch, too," he added.

"Ah-huh, right. I'll be right back."

She donned her jeans, but kept on the Red Sox
T-shirt. When she walked back into the living room, she caught
Garran at her desk, looking at her notebook. "That's private, you
know."