The Secrets of Their Souls (17 page)

Jayce ignored him and lit up his final cigarette for the night. It was time for bed.

Her mind was a vortex of tormented thoughts. Zahra was reading the book recommended to her by Dr. Moore. It featured a prominent psychiatrist and a patient who suffered from severe anxiety and repeated nightmares, whom he cured using past-life therapy. Dr. Moore had recommended it to Zahra to help her, but instead it filled her with dread. There was a lot of mention of karmic debt and how souls evolve by paying their debts, and Zahra shuddered to think of how many debts she had to pay—the number must be in the hundreds and that was just from Raven’s lifetime. And if the debts weren’t paid out, and they are taken into another life, how many lives had she lived since her assassin days? Zahra put the book down, physically and mentally unable to turn another page. “I’m so fucked,” Zahra whispered. She may have been the messenger, as Raven had so innocently put it, but she had murdered countless people. And she had singularly enjoyed it. Had she repaid any of her debts? And most importantly: what had Raven done to Dryas and what did she now owe Jayce?

Zahra rubbed her eyes; she had barely slept since Saturday night and unless she found a way to shut her mind off, she doubted she was going to get much sleep tonight either. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the painting that hung above Jayce’s bed.
Why would he have a painting of a raven? Was that a coincidence or was it something more?
Zahra was beginning to believe nothing in life was a coincidence and that everything happened for a reason. But, the concept that Jayce and Zahra were reunited again in this lifetime, for whatever reason that was, seemed somewhat self-aggrandizing. They were just two small souls in an entire universe; were their unfinished issues so significant that life had organized itself to bring them back together? The more Zahra thought it through, the more impossible it seemed but here they were, together again—and one of them, for sure, knew their past. After seeing that painting of the raven, though, Zahra had to wonder if Jayce knew more than he was letting on. But how would he know? He didn’t appear to suffer from nightmares, he barely even slept. Were there other ways to access suppressed memories? Zahra didn’t know and she hadn’t come across any during her research. She sighed and her head ached; it was tired of the never-ending stream of questions.

Closing her eyes again, Zahra willed her mind to slow down. She had three hours until she had to get up for work and no amount of concealer was going to fix the shadows under her eyes if she didn’t get some sleep.

She was late. Once she had managed to fall asleep, even her alarm hadn’t been able to wake her. She was meeting Jackson and Devon for an additional running session and she had hit snooze one too many times.

“I’m sorry!”

Jackson flashed his million-dollar smile. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, waving his hand dismissively. “It’s all good. I’ll give you my number, though, in case you need it in the future.”

Zahra handed him her phone and he typed it in and then she gave him hers. With number swapping complete, they began their run.
This is better than therapy
, she thought as their feet pounded the pavement. Running kept her sane and it also resulted in a slim, toned body—it was a win-win situation as far as she was concerned.

Jackson set a faster but still manageable pace this morning: one that tired her legs but didn’t altogether deplete her body. She ran with her back straight, her arms at her waist and her eyes forward and down. She concentrated on technique and posture, putting one foot in front of the other—it was always the same. Devon ran with music blaring from earphones so loudly that Zahra could hear it next to her, and Jackson ran with earphones in but his music was at an inaudible volume. Zahra typically ran without music, at least until the last few miles. She liked to listen to city yawning; the slow murmurs of traffic and voices talking as it awoke. And she liked to save the music for the hardest part, when there was nothing left but the pure determination in her mind; long-distance running was a mind game—one that she’d mastered many months ago.

“Half way. How are we doing?” Jackson looked at them and when they both nodded, he said, “Good.” Jackson continued on at pace for a few more miles before he picked it up, running a little faster, pushing the limit a little harder. Zahra turned on her music now: it was time to focus. She kept pace, but by the time they arrived back at Mason she was cursing Jackson Coby under her breath and she was sure Devon was too.

Zahra had stripped down to a crop top and three-quarter-length compression tights. Sweat dripped off her tired body and she leaned over, letting her fingertips dangle by her ankles, giving her calves a good stretch.

“Good morning,” Jayce said from behind her.

Zahra bolted upright. “Uh, good morning,” she said.

“How is the team training going?” Jayce asked, looking at Jackson.

“Not too badly. These two are my star runners, the others have a bit more work to do,” Jackson said, chuckling.

“How many are on this Mason running team?” Jayce asked.

“Supposedly eleven, but a few have already dropped out,” Devon answered.

Jayce chuckled. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. Have a good day.”

11057

“Good morning, again,” Zahra answered.

“Please tell me why there are eleven in your running group and only three of you running this morning? That’s a very poor attendance rate, wouldn’t you say?” Jayce asked.

“Devon and I have missed a couple, because we have been working so hard, so Jackson was kind enough to give us an additional training session.” Zahra smiled, waiting for his response.

Jayce scoffed. “Kind enough, huh? That’s one way of looking at it.”

“You should be focusing on the first part of my sentence about how hard we have been working.” Zahra opened up her email program and watched the black lines load one after the other in a ceaseless ladder to heaven. “Anyway, how are you doing?” she said, more interested to hear about him.

“Uh, I’ve been better. It’s only Wednesday and it’s already been a hell of a week.”

“Yes, I heard you fired quite a few people yesterday.”

“It was necessary. I don’t tolerate laziness, nor do I tolerate people who don’t give a fuck about this company.”

“If I were boss, I would’ve done the same.”

Jayce laughed. “Zahra, you will never be boss.”

She smiled, biting her lip. “Never say never, Jayce.”

“Cocky, aren’t you? It’s a good thing I like confident women.”

“That is very good news for me.”

“So I’ve been thinking… once Church Street is sold, I want to take a few days off, get away for the weekend. Just the two of us, somewhere beautiful and quiet. What do you think?”

“Really?” She was speechless. “I would love to. Where are you thinking?” She spun her chair to face the windows, giving her some privacy to revel in her excitement.

“There is a beautiful house a couple hours’ drive away in Hunter Mountain. I’ve spoken with the owner and it’s available around the time we would want it. Obviously we’ll need to confirm closer to the date, depending on whether the Church Street sales gallery completes on schedule, but it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“And what are we going to do there?”

“Fuck. Eat. Hike. Probably in that order.”

Zahra giggled loudly. “I see… That sounds perfect. Thank you, Jayce.”

“You’re welcome. I’m looking forward to it already. What are you doing this weekend?”

“Honestly, I’ve not given it much thought. Are you free?”

“Not really, but I want to see you on Saturday night. I won’t finish until late, but still I’d rather see you then than not at all.”

“I would like to see you too, so come over when you’re done. What are you doing for dinner Sunday night?”

“I’ll eat here, I suppose. Why?”

“You should join us for family dinner—you have to eat so you might as well eat with us. Bring your laptop, and you can work while we cook.”

“You have a deal. Even better, I’ll work from my laptop on Sunday so we can spend the day together. It’s my way of making up for being MIA this week.”

Zahra smiled and she was glad he was staying at her apartment—she couldn’t bear to sleep in his bed with that painting above her head. “Sounds like a plan. Have a good day, Jayce.”

My head snapped to Dryas. He nodded his head and we drew our weapons.

“How many do you think?” he asked, only loudly enough for me to hear.

“Many,” I said and they were moving fast, headed straight in our direction. I felt my body come alive, ready for the fight. Whoever was coming after us had made a fatal mistake—I was deadly on my own but, with Dryas by my side, they didn’t stand a chance. We stood back-to-back and waited. My hand was steady, not a single tremble.

“Stay close.”

I laughed. “I don’t take orders from you, Dryas.”

I felt his back rub against mine as he chuckled. “I didn’t intend it as an order. I thought we were friends now and friends look out for each other.”

“I look out for myself. Four in front,” I said as our attackers emerged from the shadows of the forest.

“Four behind. Don’t hold back, Raven. And that is an order.” Dryas was handsome
and
he had a sense of humor.

I assessed the men creeping toward me, step by step with their knives ready. I looked into their eyes, it was easy to spot the weak ones—you could see the fear. I waited, ready for them; there was no fear in my eyes.

“One… two… three.” I had my knife in my target’s neck before he knew I’d moved. I pulled it out and blood sprayed from the wound. One down. I backed up, keeping close to Dryas, who was wiping his knife clean. I picked my next target and smiled at him. He blinked and I threw my knife, landing it in his forehead. Blood trickled from his eye sockets as he fell to his knees. I drew another blade from my holster. “Two down.”

“Two down,” Dryas replied.

I grimaced. I would not let Dryas kills his targets before I did. I focused, watching the last two men in front of me. I noted the way they moved, if they favored one side, how heavy they were breathing—everything to help devise my strategy. One man was slower on his feet and I lunged for him. He blocked me once but on my second attempt I landed my knife in his chest. I kicked it in deep and then drew it out. One to go. We danced in a circle, sizing each other up. He was a small man but, like me, he was quick on his feet. I had to use the element of surprise. I didn’t lunge for his chest, choosing to go for his arm instead and brought my knife down on his wrist. He howled in pain, stunned by my assault, and I went for his neck, slicing it open and he fell to the ground. Adrenaline surged through me as I reveled in the bloody victory before my eyes—four down.

I turned to Dryas who was still battling it out. I stood back and took the opportunity to watch him without him knowing. He moved well and I admired his skill. His target was a fine warrior, but he was no match for Dryas. The man dropped his shield to the left as he defended a blow and Dryas lunged forward, plunging his knife into his chest. Dryas kicked him to the ground, retrieved his knife, and turned to me. He looked me up and down and smiled. “You’re not hurt?”

“Of course not,” I scoffed. “You took your time.”

Dryas beamed a beautiful smile and then looked over my shoulder. “You forgot one,” he said.

I turned on my heels. My last target was still wriggling on the ground. The bastard was still alive! I marched back to him, stuck my knife into his chest and turned it full circle. He coughed his last breath.

“You can just kill them, Raven. You don’t need to torture them.”

“I wouldn’t want to bore you,” I said.

Dryas threw his head back, laughing. “Believe me, that would be impossible.”

I wiped my knife clean and put it back in my holster. When I looked up, I noticed Dryas watching me, his eyes on my thigh. I let my gown fall, covering my leg and holster, and walked toward him. My pulse was racing and it wasn’t just from the kill.

Dryas drew me in at the waist and I held my breath. “Everything they say about you is true. Men fear you and those same men yearn for you.”

“Do you fear me, Dryas?” My words were rushed and I hated that he had this effect on me.

“Yes. But I yearn for you too.”

He leaned in and kissed me and I closed my eyes. My body swayed toward him and he wrapped me up in his arms. I kissed him back and then forced myself to stop. We still had a long journey ahead and I wouldn’t allow him to distract me. “We need to keep moving,” I said and pushed him away.

Every floor was identical to the one above, or the one below, depending on how one looked at it. Being a junior, Jemma’s desk was located in the center of the floor and it was a goddamn mess. Zahra shook her head at the chaos that lay strewn across every inch of her sister’s workspace: papers, spreadsheets, three calculators, two packets of gum, one packet of Skittles and countless Post-it notes.
Ugh… How could she work in such a state?
Zahra resisted the urge to tidy it, assuming there must be some form of organized logic to her littered mountain of crap. And not only was her desk unorganized, she wasn’t at it, which meant she was late.

Zahra found a pen and left a hot pink Post-it message for her sister:

Using two hands, Zahra pushed a gap between all of the papers and placed the note square and front of Jemma’s desk—surely she couldn’t miss it there. Noting she, too, was now officially late, Zahra went up to her office where her team was busy at work. She grinned smugly as she walked in: her team was productive and organized.

The morning passed quickly and Zahra powered through her colossal workload. She sipped coffee, cleared her inbox, conducted a team meeting, resolved a designer-supply issue and reviewed the trend analysis reports her team had put together, all before noon. She was at her best when things were fast-paced, as they say:
if you need something done, give it to a busy person
. It was mid-afternoon by the time her sister decided to respond, just when Zahra thought her Post-it note must have been buried in the paper graveyard.