Animal Instincts (Kindred Souls Book 1)

by Patricia Rosemoor

  So they have to choose.

  Luc’s words suddenly hit her and she remembered another conversation they’d had about his father’s people.

  They are what they are, Luc had told her. They chose their fates.

  “But a soulless life is one without pleasure,” he went on. “Food, wine, sex—none hold a thrill for a soulless being. That’s why, for centuries, the Kindred have tricked humans into giving over their souls so they could temporarily use them and enjoy life.”

  “Doesn’t that make them mortal again?” she asked somewhat distractedly as she pieced together those thoughts.

  “Using a human soul ages the host and eventually leaves him or her vulnerable to death by disease or by accident unless the soul is culled off before it goes bad. They can be killed by another immortal like Jez was. Yet most Kindred are so addicted to pleasure, they worry little about the consequences.”

  It hit her, then. “You haven’t chosen.”

  He fell silent, and she knew she was correct.

  “Why not?” she asked, although she assumed it must have something to do with his being torn between the two worlds he’d lived in all his life.

  “A discussion for another day.”

  More avoidance. “Is that it, then?”

  “About me, yes.”

  Skye suddenly realized that Nuala and Shade’s baby would be in the same situation as Luc. “What about my niece or nephew?”

  “He or she will be able to choose.”

  But raised here, in this atmosphere, what was the likelihood that Shade’s child would choose to turn against the Kindred? Feeling as if her heart stalled out, she couldn’t let that happen. She’d hoped to shut down the shifter fights, but now it seemed the casino needed to close as well, which on the one hand seemed imperative. But on the other hand...

  How could she be part of destroying the world into which her niece or nephew would be born?

  She couldn’t think about it now, not while she was with Luc. She couldn’t think clearly around him. Not about this.

  Skye calmed herself and forced her mind back to the purpose of this conversation. How to get Shade’s soul back.

  Leading up to that, she asked, “What about the souls they’re borrowing? How do they get them?”

  “The casino was Pop’s idea. A way to band the Kindred together with a common goal. Humans gamble their souls on getting what they want most. And most often, they lose. Pop’s the soul keeper. The Kindred earn human souls through hard work for him. They know when a soul is running out and get rid of it. Then work to earn a new one.”

  “They do what?” she asked. “Get people hooked on gambling?”

  “And other pursuits.”

  “Let me get this straight. That’s what your father expects me to do to get my brother’s soul returned to him? He wants me to help corrupt people?”

  Luc simply shrugged and gave her an apologetic expression.

  “What does your father get out of this?” Other than playing God?

  “He gets a loyal Kindred following, who in turn help him get servants working at every level of the government and city services, among other places.”

  Servants. A shiver slid straight through her. “Are you saying he runs this city?” It sounded as if he had more power than she had realized.

  “Not yet.”

  “But that’s his goal?”

  Luc laughed. “Now that’s an oversimplification. The city is a start.”

  “The country?”

  “Maybe the world.”

  Again, she was having trouble embracing the scope of his plan. But the tequila had kicked in, making her think it might be true. What if Cezar was able to succeed in getting everything he wanted?

  If Shade had been trying to stop the demonic head of this place, no wonder he’d been killed. Cezar could have found out and decided to stop her brother. She couldn’t voice that. Luc loved his father, and she couldn’t share this particular thought unless she was certain it was true.

  “What was Shade trying to learn by getting into the high roller room?”

  “I wasn’t privy to your brother’s investigation.”

  “But you knew he was investigating.”

  “Not exactly. More like I knew something was wrong.”

  “How?”

  “I started seeing him and Nuala together and got suspicious. I tried to read him—”

  “And couldn’t.” Undoubtedly Shade had been more practiced at keeping his thoughts to himself than she had ever been.

  “I knew he was something else, too. I tried talking my sister into staying away from him, but it didn’t take.”

  “Is that all you did?”

  Luc went silent. He didn’t even chide her in his thoughts. Now he was covering.

  “I don’t think you shot him. That’s not what I meant.”

  Still, he said not a word. His jaw was clenched, though, as if he wanted to say something that would wound her and was holding himself back.

  “I wondered if you talked to anyone else about Shade.”

  He finally spoke. “Like who?”

  “Like your brother.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Nik. You think I discussed Shade and what he might be up to with Nik?”

  “I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking. It would be natural for you to talk with your brother when you were concerned for your sister. But there’s something about him that worries me.”

  “You wouldn’t be the only one.”

  “When he stopped by Nuala’s quarters to chide her, he already knew she was pregnant. It was obvious he hated that she’d taken up with Shade. A human.”

  “He undoubtedly thinks I’ve been a bad influence on her.”

  “I don’t understand,” she said slowly.

  “Why the frown?” he asked.

  “I’m trying to decide if you’re using a new tactic so I’ll let down my guard and you can get inside my head.”

  She felt the shift in his attitude even before he said, “I promise I’ll only get inside you with your permission.”

  Knowing he didn’t mean her head, she narrowed her gaze. Making her think carnal thoughts was an annoying avoidance ploy he used. And he was sending out a sensual vibe that skittered along her nerves. She was suddenly aware. Every nerve in her body felt alive. And pulled toward him.

  Skye gritted her teeth and tried to ignore the blistering thoughts running through her head. “We have a serious situation to discuss.”

  “Then maybe Nuala should be here for it.”

  “I don’t mean her pregnancy. I mean the shifter fights.”

  He leaned forward, slid his fingertips over the top of her hand. “We stopped it tonight.”

  At his touch, the physical pressure on her became almost unbearable. Why was he trying to stop her from pursuing this line of conversation? Gathering her will together, Skye pushed back.

  Still, she was a little breathless when she said, “You know that’s a temporary victory. We need to find out who’s involved so we can shut down the whole operation before someone else gets killed.”

  “Why do you care so much, when it’s not humans who are dying?”

  He was stroking the back of her hand, and as much as she wanted to pull it away, she was doing well enough to be able to speak.

  “I care about animals as much as I do about people. And your Kindred are both. If you cared about Jez, then I believe she was someone worth caring about, too. I don’t believe she was evil.”

  Surprise softening his expression, Luc removed his hand and sat back. The sensual hold he’d tried to get on her faded away.

  “And I don’t think Hank was evil, either, or he wouldn’t have given us that address tonight.”

  “I’m going to guess that Hank can’t get the kind of information we need to shut down the operation.”

  “If Shade knew anything of significance, he didn’t write it down in any form that I could discern. I checked out his casebook earlier. That’s how
I found your mother.”

  “What about his computer?”

  “Already checked that. The only thing I found of significance was his calendar with what he thought were dogfights marked on various days.”

  “What about his cell phone? He might have entered information there.”

  “You’re right,” she said. “Too bad we can’t find it.”

  “His cell is missing? You mean someone stole it?”

  “I mean they didn’t find it on him, which is very odd.” And it had been bothering her since Ethan had told her. “Shade was never without his cell. It’s not in his apartment or car, either.”

  “Are you sure he had it the night he died?”

  “Ethan said Dad called him and got him around seven. So, yes, he had it then.”

  Luc scowled. “Huh. I wonder if whoever shot your brother got hold of his cell somehow.”

  “You’d have to ask your mother if she saw anything more. If she would tell you. She claims to know nothing, to have seen nothing.”

  He aimed that scowl at her. “You promised to stay away from her.”

  “She wouldn’t tell me anyway,” Skye admitted. “If she knows something, you’re the only one who can get it out of her.”

  “I’ll see what I can find out.”

  “Good.”

  Thinking she ought to get away before he tried working his sensual magic on her again, she slid out of the booth.

  “Stay. Have another margarita.”

  “No, thanks. I never was fond of hangovers.”

  “I’ll take you home.” He started to get up.

  “I got myself here, I can get myself home. I need some time to think.”

  “Have it your way.” Though he settled back in the booth, he didn’t sound happy about it.

  Skye made her getaway before he could change his mind. Once out of the bar, she started for the exit, but seeing the habitat, she couldn’t resist its pull. A moment later, she ended up standing before the windows alongside a few casino guests.

  The habitat seemed as quiet as it had been when she looked for Hank earlier, and obviously disappointed, the other onlookers left for the gambling tables. She remained, her gaze sweeping as much of the habitat as she could see. No sign of Hank. Still, she couldn’t leave without making an attempt to find him. He’d helped her before, and maybe he had more information he’d kept from her because Luc was there.

  Her heart skipped a beat at the thought of entering the habitat alone, but she had to do it. Blame the tequila that gave her an extra shot of courage.

  About to go for the door, she felt a shiver along her spine that told her someone was watching her. Luc?

  She flew around. Nope, no Luc. Her stomach knotted as she skimmed the slot machine area and gaming tables. If anyone had particular interest in her, however, it wasn’t from the casino area. The tequila had probably made her a little paranoid, too.

  She turned back to the habitat. The visible animals all seemed occupied. Or asleep.

  With a last look to make sure no one was watching her, she moved to the door Luc and she had taken to find Hank. Despite the liquid courage, her limbs felt stiff, as if they didn’t want to move. As if they didn’t want to go where she knew she had to. She forced herself to open the door and slipped into the hallway, then walked along the glass and stopped where she’d entered before, unsure whether she could simply walk through the glass the way she had earlier. Fighting a panicky sensation that stiffened her limbs, she hesitated.

  Hank, are you there? I need to talk to you.

  No answer.

  Hank, please, tell me if you can hear me.

  If he could, he wasn’t telling.

  Steeling herself, she licked her lips, closed her eyes, and held her breath, then imagined walking through the glass window even as she stepped forward. And kept stepping until she opened her eyes and found herself inside the habitat. Gasping for breath, she didn’t think she could ever get used to doing that.

  Since the coyote wasn’t answering her thoughts, she decided to try talking out loud. “Hank, I’m here. I’m going to find you, so you might as well come out.”

  No response from Hank. But she heard wings flap overhead and a sinister rattle nearby. A red-tailed hawk wheeled at her from behind a mesa. Her pulse jumped and so did she. A rattler slithered out from behind a rock, ready to strike.

  Her head went light but Skye fought to imagine Hank’s wooded copse as she had last time, and a second later, she was there. Thank goodness she could create her own reality in here.

  “C’mon, Hank, you know I’m trying to help you and the others who were forced to fight. I want to talk to you for just a minute.”

  A muffled sound. An animal in pain? She caught her breath and held it as she tuned in, listening hard.

  More sounds.

  Low. Anguished. Bone-chilling.

  Swallowing her fear, Skye followed the pitiful, scary cries deep into the gloom under the canopy of trees. Her eyes took a moment to adjust to the gray shadows that obliterated all detail.

  Then she saw him, lying still as death.

  “Hank!” she cried, running to the coyote’s side and dropping to her knees.

  His fur was covered with blood. His side was split open. And nearly every inch of him had been shredded.

  She wanted to heal him somehow, but his wounds were beyond anything she could mend. She feared touching him would only hurt him more. One of his paws looked intact, so she gently circled it with her fingers and felt his faint pulse.

  A connection lit between them. She broadcast calm and images she hoped would soothe him until help arrived. He seemed to sigh and decompress a little.

  Visualizing Luc in her mind’s eye, she concentrated on summoning him. The habitat. Hank needs help. Hurry!

  Hank moaned. Too late.

  “No, hang on!” she cried, fearing he was right. “Luc will fix you.” Her eyes stung and she swallowed hard. “Who did this to you? Why?” she asked even as his pulse slowed and then stopped.

  Dead.

  “No, no!”

  Because of her.

  She blinked away tears, but more kept coming. Hank had been murdered because she’d convinced him to give her that address to stop the shifter fight.

  Luc... the habitat... please...

  Her fault. The tears wouldn’t stop.

  Until she heard swift paws padding behind her. The back of her neck prickled in warning. What now?

  She turned to face a wolf. Its eyes gleamed like black diamonds. Another shifter, not the friendly sort. Her heart thundered. Knowing fear excited a wild animal, she tried to hide hers. She swiped a hand across her wet face and locked gazes.

  The shifter bared its teeth. A low growl vibrated through the barrel of its chest. Her head went light.

  Did you kill Hank?

  She knew it had, just as it was going to kill her. Rather, it was going to try.

  Bracing for the attack, Skye visualized The Book of Powers, and whispered, “I call upon Brigit. Epona. Maeve. All the Protectresses that have come before me. Add your strength to mine to fight this evil—”

  The shifter lunged for her, and she threw out her hands to protect herself.

  When it slammed into her, a current passed between them. An unearthly wolf howl shuddered through her as the shifter fell to the ground mere feet away.

  It scrabbled to its feet and she could feel its foul breath on her face. You’re going to die, bitch!

  But before it could attack again, Luc was suddenly there between them, his face a mask of fury. With a sweep of Luc’s hand, the shifter flew through the air and slammed into a tree. This time when it landed, it didn’t move.

  “He killed Hank,” she choked out.

  When her gaze turned to the dead coyote, she froze. Hank had shifted back to human form. There was blood everywhere. He was covered with bite wounds, and his organs spilled from the huge tear in his gut. Her stomach revolted, and she retched until it was empty.

&n
bsp; Luc pulled her up and into his arms. She clung to him as if her life depended on it. Which it might.

  This was a nightmare.

  She was living a bloody nightmare.

  When was she going to wake up?

  Chapter Thirty

  After several hours of strange dreams that haunted her fitful sleep, Skye was awakened by the insistent bleating of her doorbell. Not wanting to face anyone, she pulled the covers over her head, but another blast was followed by a sharp tug on the covers. The cats protested and repositioned themselves around the mattress.

  “Hey.” She looked up to face Boomer grinning at her. “Shade? What are you doing in Boomer’s body again? Get out of there.”

  I did it so I could leave my apartment and keep an eye on you. The doorbell. Get up and answer.

  “All right.”

  Her first thought as she stumbled out of bed was that Luc had come for her. He hadn’t wanted her to be alone last night, but she’d insisted on going home. He’d brought her here and had said someone would be guarding her.

  She got to the intercom in the hallway. “Who is it?”

  “Oh, thank God you’re all right.”

  “Phoebe?”

  Groaning, she pressed the buzzer to let her friend up. Just what she needed—company when she was so depressed. She could hardly move.

  Skye opened the door as Phoebe got to the top of the stairs. Her braids were pulled into a high ponytail that was decorated with a big silk flower the same bright yellow as her capris and tube top.

  “Oh, did I wake you?”

  Aware of her tangled hair, wrinkled pajamas, and sleep-swollen eyes, she muttered, “No, I always look like this.” Turning, she headed for the kitchen. Phoebe and her brother the dog followed. “Coffee. I need coffee.” It would wake her brain even if it didn’t make her feel any better.

  “I tried calling. Several times. I got worried when you didn’t answer.”

  “Had a little too much tequila last night.” Skye could never tell Phoebe the truth about what she’d been through. She didn’t want to risk her safety.

  “You were with a man.” Phoebe squealed.

  “Don’t get too excited. We’re wrong for each other.”

  Which was the truth, unfortunately, because she more than liked Luc. And it wasn’t all physical attraction, though there was that in spades. But there was something about him that made her think Nuala hadn’t been exaggerating about who he was. She didn’t see it going anywhere under the circumstances. Last night, seeing Hank’s body, broken and bloody, had convinced her of that.