by Kim Petersen
Dark Soul
Kim Petersen
Contents
About the Author
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
About the Author
Dark Soul
The fate of the world lies in the hands of a killer.
Regan Knowles is a death merchant with a dark soul. And that’s okay with him until he discovers a power that can change the universe. The Serenity Seed blossoms into a beautiful angel determined to make his life hell, forcing Regan to question everything he’s ever known about the world … and himself. Now, he’s in a race against his enemies to find the magical seed first as the fate of the world hangs in the balance.
Dark Soul © copyright 2018 Kim Petersen
All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.
This is a Whispering Ink Press book brought to you by Whispering Ink Press
Edited by Paul Vanderloos
Cover Art by Roy Migabon
IBSN – Kindle – 978-0-6481595-6-8
IBSN – Paperback – 978-0-6481595-7-5
About the Author
Kim Petersen is author of The Ascended Angels Series. A paranormal romance thriller fantasy tale about angels on earth, love and demons. Her debut novel, Millie’s Angel received a gold award in the 2017 Dan Poynter’s Global eBook Awards. She loves to explore the meta-physical aspects of life, and the universal bonds of love and friendship – then find expression through creating works of urban fantasy, paranormal and dystopian fiction.
For more information
www.kimpetersen.com.au
For John. You are still the guiding light in my life. I love you and miss you each day. Rest in Peace.
They call him the Dark Star.
He slinks through the city’s streets and alleyways like an eerie shadow, and his vengeance soars with the grace of a gliding star. They say his soul is as parched as inky wastelands, and he can disintegrate you with a flick of his unruly flaxen hair. You will never see him coming. By the time you catch sight of him, it will be too late. His midnight eyes will swallow you whole and reveal your death before you have time to process the encounter.
He prefers they call him Regan.
Regan stalked about the basement and cast an amused eye at the frumpy bald man. He screwed up his nose. A stream of sweat dripped from the bound man’s brow despite the chill of the room.
He turned to his colleague, Eddie, and smirked.
‘Might need a bucket down here,’ he muttered.
Eddie chuckled and reached into his back pocket, pulling out a switch blade.
‘Or I could just use this.’
The bound man squeezed his eyes shut and whimpered like a child.
‘Sam … Sam,’ Regan uttered as he crouched before him. Why did they always resist the inevitable?
Sam began to shake his head furiously.
‘I told you I don’t know nothing!’ he shouted.
He stared at the man. ‘Open your eyes, Sam. Look at me.’ he said, his voice sounding like a musical composition.
Sam flinched as he felt Regan’s face next to his, and he almost toppled sideways off his chair. He kept his eyes squeezed shut. ‘No … I won’t look at you! I heard of your evil eyes. You’ll kill me!’
Eddie stepped up near them. The switch blade shimmered in the light of the overhead lamp. ‘You want me to open his eyes, boss?’
The fine blond hairs of Regan’s brows raised as he glared at Eddie who dropped his gaze and backed away. He was a useful wingman and had earned his position over the years, yet Regan likened his memory to a deck of scattered cards. Regan had a deep aversion to blood. The thick scarlet substance sent a twist of dread through his gut like an interweaving knot, a fact his blood-thirsty friend had trouble remembering.
Regan’s dark blue eyes grew luminous with the tide of waves swirling through them like a raging tsunami as he willed the trembling man to open his eyes. Dribbles of sweat splashed off Sam’s head as he thrashed about, battling against seeing the ‘Dark Star’. An animalistic growl escaped through twisted lips as his eyelids flew open. His bloodshot eyes bulged as he desperately tried to avoid Regan’s eyes, staring instead at the paint-stripped walls beyond Regan.
Regan grinned. ‘So, you know who I am. Then you know why you’re here.’
His thick fingers brushed over the spiky bristles of his chin. Time for a shave. He stretched onto the balls of his feet and rocked back and forth in contemplation. He needn’t think about his next move. He knew what he wanted from the man. God, that dark piece last night had talented lips, he thought beneath his frown. What was her name again? He noticed Sam’s shoulders relax with his sigh, his eyes jutted up towards him. Argh! Now who has the scattered memory? He shrugged, and refocused on Sam.
Regan’s smile crept through to his eyes. Sam smiled back with a mesmerized tilt of his soggy bald head. He was imprisoned in Regan’s gaze. His chest slowed to a rhythmic sway and his breath became shallow as he fell under the spell of the current flowing in Regan’s eyes.
‘Who shot my cousin Dorian and his lovely girlfriend, Eliza?’
Sam’s thin lips quivered. He blinked fast as if trying to stop the words that would spill from his mouth and betray the family to which he was pledged.
‘I … I … I’m just an old school crook … they’ll kill me!’ he faltered, swinging his gaze to the floor.
Regan spun on his heels and began a slow meander about the basement, ignoring Eddie’s incessant stare. He halted before a painting that hung on the wall to the far side of the room. His eyes narrowed as they swept over the aquamarine hues of a swirling sea that skimmed wild behind the striking image of an angel. He cocked his head to one side. What an odd canvas to be hanging down here. He had ventured down these basement stairs many times. It was one of a few locations his family used for hosting unsavory situations with even more unsavory guests. Not once had he noticed this painting.
He felt a warm tingle spread through him. He squirmed slightly as the foreign feelings spun like a gentle whirlwind, passing down his spine and tickling the tips of his toes.
‘Boss?’ Eddie’s thick voice sliced through his reverie.
Regan glanced back, shook his head and stalked over to Sam. He had enough of this dawdling crap.
‘How do you see the next five minutes of your life unfolding if you choose not to
tell me who shot Dorian?’ He loomed closer to the man in the chair.
Sam gulped visibly. His lumpy eyes caught Regan’s and widened in shock as he witnessed his death in their reflection. A gurgling sound clung in his throat as his body froze.
‘It was Zane Crais and his gang,’ he murmured.
A brilliant grin flashed across Regan’s face. ‘See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?’
He stretched to his feet and playfully slapped Sam’s shoulder then began to pace up and down again.
‘My uncle and Alexander Crais have co-existed in peace for the last decade. I admit, some deals go down begrudgingly, but for the most part both our families are benefiting rather obscenely from the lucrative pill market, wouldn’t you agree?’
Sam’s bottom lip fell open with a wobble. He took a breath and furiously nodded.
‘Ye … yes.’
Regan swiveled back and glared at Sam.
‘So why start a war now?’
Sam sounded like a whisper lost in the wind. ‘It’s the Serenity Seed. Alexander swears he had a vision …’ His wrists twisted against the knotted rope behind him. ‘Can you please untie me; I’ll tell you everything I know.’
Regan studied him for a moment. He shrugged, and nodded at Eddie who began untying the rope. Regan’s mind wandered back to the night before. He could almost feel her hot breath dance against his skin while her tongue did things that made him groan. Why didn’t I get her number?
Sam rubbed his wrists. ‘Look, Mr Knowles, you’re right; we have been at peace for over a decade. The Crais family doesn’t want to undercut you or your uncle Vincent in any way.’ He threw up his hands and grinned. ‘There are rivers of cash flowing and even more consumers – it would be crazy to start a war!’
Regan casually ran his hands through his thick blond locks. ‘That would be crazy.’ His expression darkened. ‘Tell me about Alexander’s vision and the Serenity Seed, and how this has caused the unfortunate incident involving my cousin and a loaded Glock.’
Sam’s goldfish eyes darted toward the stairs and freedom. He sighed. ‘He said he saw the serpent god. He said the serpent god showed him the Serenity Seed,’ His gaze switched to Regan. ‘He said the serpent god showed him the “Dark Star”.’
‘Me?’ he laughed.
‘You. He sent Zane and his guys out to dig around. Dorian wasn’t supposed to come home so early that night. They thought they had more time. Dorian shot at them; it was self-defense, believe me,’ he pleaded.
‘I do believe you,’ Regan said.
Sam’s body slumped. ‘Can I go now?’
‘Sure. But while you’re here I have to ask you one more thing,’ he said, leaning closer to him. ‘What did you see in my eyes earlier?’
Sam took in a sharp breath. ‘I saw your guy slice my throat like a goat. I saw my blood spill over this floor like a red river.’
Regan flinched at the mention of blood. ‘Right on,’ he said. He marched over to the painting and carefully removed it from its hook then turned to Eddie and nodded. ‘I’ll be upstairs.’
Regan propped the canvas under his arm and ignored Sam’s curdling shriek as he made for the stairs. He grinned, satisfied with the outcome of his discussion with Sam.
‘Old school crook, my ass,’ he muttered.
He knew Sam was ranked high enough in the family to warrant a reoccurring seat at Alexander Crais’ family dining table. And he knew enough to know why Zane and his guys went searching at Dorian’s house instead of his own; as he had gone to great pains to keep his home classified information. Even Eddie had no idea where he lay his head at night.
The clanking noises issuing from the kitchen of the restaurant above the basement intruded in the dimly lit corridors as his thoughts turned to the Serenity Seed. Although he had been raised to believe in its existence and the vital importance such a seed would have on the world as we know it, he had long decided that the whole concept was a myth – a fancy fable designed to prey upon wild imaginations and insatiable greed.
Regan swung through the heavy back door to the dark alley behind the building where his car was parked. He climbed in the car and examined the angel canvas. He shivered. He didn’t know why he felt compelled to take the painting with him; it wasn’t even his style. Yet somehow, he felt drawn to it. A tiny tingle surged through him as if the emerald eyes of the angel silently spoke to him. His body fluttered again. He tossed the canvas in the back seat as if the thick woven fabric had burned his fingers. He grumbled under his breath, fighting the unsettling feelings that threatened to overwhelm him. He shut his eyes and rested his head against the car seat while a flood of memories invaded his mind.
He was eight years old and it was his initiation into the dark world of black magic. He clutched his mother’s hand and gazed up to her. Her long golden mane cascaded around her face like a halo against a circle of flames and her eyes were ignited with excitement. The flames crackled and licked against the grass with a life of their own, rising high against the night. At first, he struggled to see through them, but the vision gradually coalesced.
In the center of the flames was a tall male figure frolicking around a girl. His face was painted a ghostly white while his eyes and lips were edged in black. His robes appeared to float with his movements, and as he began to chant, he revealed a dagger from within its velvety folds.
Regan’s mother squeezed his hand and bent down next to him.
‘It’s okay, Regan. This is our way – what you have been raised to do. Do you remember all I have told you?’
He bit his lip and nodded silently.
She smiled. ‘Good. You are the son of the serpent god; the Dark Star. Nothing can ever hurt you.’ Her eyes hardened. ‘Don’t you dare turn away; he is watching you.’
Regan was startled as Eddie lumbered into the seat beside him.
‘Cleaners are on their way. I’ve instructed a special delivery for Mr Crais. The message will be clear.’ Eddie eyed him curiously. ‘You don’t strike me as an angel kinda guy.’
Regan shrugged. He turned on the ignition. ‘I’m not,’ he mumbled.
They fell silent as they drove through the inner-city streets.
Eddie fingered the scar across his cheekbone. ‘You believe that Serenity Seed stuff?’ he said, gazing out the window.
He pushed his mother from his mind and tried to focus on the road. Truth was, the mention of the Serenity Seed brought up memories and feelings he had tried to suppress.
Eddie chuckled. ‘I heard this Serenity Seed has the potential to banish all evil – to renew and cleanse the earth. I guess this is why Alexander Crais is interested in obtaining it. We’d all be out of business then, but why would they think it has something to do with you?’ He laughed harder. ‘I mean you – of all people, the darkest soul of us all. The gifted one. Doesn’t make sense.’
Regan said nothing as he drove onto the highway. No, it doesn’t make sense, he thought. And he didn’t care to know any more about that damned seed either. He would continue to do his job and take care of business until his uncle Vincent returned from Dubai. Then he planned to get out of organized crime and move down south to start a little business of his own. He always fancied the idea of making wine. After all, he’d grown up in the country for the most part. He knew how to work the land. Ah yes, a vineyard sounds divine.
He swung the car into a space in front of The Underpass. His uncle’s club was the place where most of their business activities were conducted. High-tech encrypted devices rendered traditional police surveillance techniques useless beyond these walls.
Regan turned to Eddie. ‘Get eyes on Zane Crais. I’m going to see Dorian,’ he said.
Eddie nodded slightly. ‘Sure, boss. You coming back later?’ he said, opening the car door.
‘I’ll check in with you tomorrow,’ he said gruffly before gunning the car from the curb.
The hospital lights were muted, giving the usually bright hallways a tarnished effect. Regan preferred visitin
g hospitals after hours; less people meant less doctors, which in turn meant less likelihood of encountering blood. The distinct smell of disinfectant chemicals made him cringe as he rounded the corner to the intensive care unit. At least it was better than the smell of blood.
The unit appeared deserted apart from a young pretty nurse staring at a computer monitor from behind a desk.
She started when she became aware of his presence.
‘Oh, I didn’t see you there,’ she fussed, straightening her hair.
He flashed her a grin. ‘I hear that all the time.’ He eyed her over appreciatively. ‘I’m here to see my cousin, Dorian Knowles. He’s in room 20. How is he doing?’
She shook her head. ‘He’s still in a coma. I’m afraid visiting hours are long over. You’ll have to come back tomorrow.’
His smiled broadened as he leaned on the desk. His eyes locked onto to hers. Darkening like a storm, his irises began to slowly circulate around his pupils. ‘Heard that before too. I won’t be long, and I promise to be as quiet as a mouse.’
The nurse gasped, unable to drag her eyes away. She nodded and smiled. ‘Okay,’ she said, her lashes fluttering.
He winked. ‘Thank you,’ he chimed, turning away. On second thought. He paused. ‘You want to give me your number?’
She scrambled for a paper and pen. ‘I wouldn’t normally do this …’ her cheeks flushed as she handed him the number. ‘Be quick!’
