The Soul Thief

by Kim Richardson

  Erik’s car felt strangely intimate, the space too tight, their seats a little too close. It smelled of new leather and gasoline. The inside of the car was immaculate, way too clean for any ordinary guy. Not a single thing was out of place. The dashboard gleamed whenever they passed under a streetlight.

  Even before she had died, Alexa hadn’t known much about cars. And she knew even less about Erik’s. It was red and old, like a collector’s classic car. That she knew for sure. It reminded her of the cars she had seen when she’d watched old cop show reruns on television with her mom.

  Alexa could see a clear, inky sky, peppered with brilliant stars. The moonlight cast everything in hues of dark blue and gray. Even in the darkness, Coffin Grove was a paradise of mountains and valleys, farms and forests. Charming turn-of-the century houses and historic buildings dotted the landscape. It was stunning.

  “So, what happened back there?” said Erik, his eyes on the road in front of him.

  Alexa knew exactly what he meant, but she said anyway, “What do you mean?”

  “With the lake, the water thing. What was that all about?”

  Alexa felt another giant wave of humiliation wash through her. “It’s nothing. I don’t want to talk about it.” It had been bad enough that he’d been there to witness her pathetic episode. She didn’t want to relive it. It was too soon to talk about it.

  But it seemed Erik didn’t want to let it go. “Why was that stiff all up in your face like that? What’s his problem?”

  “I don’t know,” said Alexa, which was the truth. “He’s always been like that with me. Ever since I…” died and woke up in Horizon. The words stuck in her throat.

  Erik hit the steering wheel with the flat of his palm, making Alexa jump as he shook his head. “Man. This is just what I’m talking about.”

  “What is?” asked Alexa, although she wasn’t so sure she wanted to know.

  “They’re all the same,” said Erik angrily. “Just like all the other stiffs, giving orders, squashing us down like we’re all just little bugs. Just because they’re angels, they think it gives them the right to tell us what to think and how to feel. But I’m sick of it! I’m sick of stiffs ordering us around like we’re their slaves.”

  “So if you hate angels,” began Alexa, “why are you here? Why are you helping me?”

  Erik was silent for a moment. “Because it’s my job. We’re screwed, you know. Basically, we’re branded at birth, preselected for this life, and there’s nothing we can do about it.”

  Branded? Alexa had no idea what that meant.

  After that they said nothing to each other for what felt likes hours. Alexa watched as Erik’s mood darkened. She didn’t know what to say, or even if she should say anything to try to calm him. The truth was she didn’t know much about the Legion, and even less about him or the other Sensitives. She didn’t have much to offer.

  “But I never thought I’d see stiffs at each other’s throats like that,” said Erik in a mock laugh.

  Alexa cleared her throat in annoyance. “It’s nothing, really, just let it go. It’s over.”

  Erik shook his head. “Nah. It’s never over. It’ll never be over.”

  The car swerved for a second before he steered it back under control, and Alexa gripped the door handle.

  Erik kept his eyes on the road. “You see that’s the thing. The stiffs will always treat the rest of us like dirt. They can’t help it. They have a God complex.”

  “Stop doing that,” said Alexa, feeling her temper throb in her temples.

  A frown wrinkled Erik’s forehead. “Stop doing what?”

  “Stop calling us stiffs.”

  Erik straightened in his seat, but said nothing for a while. She wasn’t sure if she had angered him, but she was afraid she might slap him if he didn’t stop with the stiff stuff.

  When he spoke next, his voice had none of the anger from before. “But you’re dead,” he said, as though somehow that made it okay.

  “I know that,” Alexa snapped, glaring at him. “But you don’t have to demean me by calling us names. It’s…it’s hard enough to adjust as it is…and you’re not helping.”

  It was strange to refer herself now as us. It meant she was longer part of the world of the living, that she and Erik were two very different people—one dead, and one alive.

  “So, how did you die?” asked Erik, his voice softer than before, and Alexa wasn’t sure she liked it better. It sounded too intimate, too low—a lover’s voice.

  She stared out the window again, knowing that eventually she would have to tell him. “I had an accident. I fell and broke my neck. That’s all I remember.”

  “Oh,” Erik sounded puzzled. “I would have figured you had drowned.” He was silent for a while and then added, “…the way you reacted to the water. I thought that’s how you died.”

  “It wasn’t.”

  Erik pursed his lips. “Okay. But I still think you had some kind of traumatic experience with water,” he said. “Probably when you were really young. Am I right?”

  Alexa opened her mouth to speak, but hesitated. She hated the fact that he was so close to the truth. He was too close to home and had brought her feelings to the surface again. Literally.

  But then she found herself opening up to him. “I was seven when it happened,” she began. She was surprised at how easily the words flowed. “It was at Jimmy’s birthday party, my neighbor. We were out playing by the pool, and I fell in. I don’t remember how I fell in, but I remember looking up at the water over my head, choking, trying to breathe, and swallowing buckets of water instead.” Alexa clasped her trembling hands. “I remember hands grabbing me, and then I blacked out. I woke up in the hospital the next day.”

  “Where were your parents?”

  Alexa looked out the window. “My parents divorced when I was five. I lived with my mom and whatever boyfriend she had at the time. She was probably off drinking somewhere, too drunk even to notice I had almost died.” She’d never truly recovered after that. Her body had healed from the trauma, but her soul was still fractured. “So, what kind of car is this?” Alexa wanted to change the subject. “I know it’s one of those old, collectable ones, right?”

  A tight smile that could pass for a grimace formed on Erik’s lips. “You don’t know much about cars, do you?”

  “Not really. It’s not like I could afford one.”

  “Well,” his smile widened. “This baby is a 1969 Ford Mustang, Boss 429.” He turned to look at her, half expecting a reaction.

  “Okay.” She knew by the look on his face that had been the wrong thing to say.

  His smile vanished, but his gaze became intense. “So, how old are you, anyway?”

  Alexa stared at the suicidal bugs in the beams of the headlights. “I was seventeen when I died. That was about a year ago, if you go by a mortal timeline. Even though in Horizon time has no real significance, we still count in mortal years. At least the rookies do. But I feel and look older, so I guess that makes me eighteen?” Her gaze fell on Erik again, but he wasn’t looking at her. “You’re what? Twenty? Twenty-one?”

  “Nineteen,” said Erik flatly.

  His chiseled face, broad shoulders, and the thick chest hidden beneath his shirt made him look older. A lot older. Perhaps it was because he had been born a Sensitive and had to fight demons when he was young.

  Alexa looked at his face. “So…where are you from? Did you drive up here from New York City? New Jersey?”

  “No, I live here. In Coffin Grove.”

  She’d never seen him before. There was only one high school in Coffin Grove, and although he was older, she would have noticed him. With his good looks, there was no way she wouldn’t have. All the girls would have.

  “What about you?”

  “Same. Born and raised in this place,” she said as she scanned the road. “How long have you been a Sensitive?”

  “I was born one.”

  Alexa felt a blush. “I know. What I meant to sa
y is how long have you been an active one? An operative? Did you have to graduate from a special school or something?”

  Erik rolled his eyes. “Is that what the stif—the Legion teaches you? But you’re a rookie, right, so you probably don’t know a whole lot.”

  Alexa noticed that he had made an effort not to say stiff, but he still peeved her a little, especially his insight that she knew practically nothing.

  “Yeah, there’s a school,” replied Erik. “But it’s more of a hands-on type of academy, not so much with books, like regular schools. They teach the basics like math, language arts, science, social studies, but our major focus is on the supernatural. Demons, vampires, ghosts, angels…you know, the usual. It’s a place just for us, kept hidden from the rest of the world.”

  “It would explain why I’d never seen you before,” said Alexa.

  “Exactly.” Erik wiped his eyes. He was tired.

  Alexa felt a little gush of shame because she didn’t feel tired at all.

  She started to feel a little bolder, a little less ashamed. “You probably come from a long line of Sensitives. And you probably know everything there this to know about angels and demons and the whole…organization, don’t you? You have years of experience and knowledge that I don’t. Your parents must be real proud. I’m sure they taught you everything they know too, right? Do you live with them?”

  Alexa couldn’t help but feel a little envious of Erik. It must have been spectacular to have been born into a secretive society that kept mortals safe from wandering demons. It was like being a guardian, but a mortal one.

  Erik seemed to have withdrawn into himself, but something was obviously causing him pain. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel, and his eyes focused on the road ahead, as if he was watching something far away.

  “Erik? Are you all right?” His sudden mood change had thrown her off balance a little.

  But Erik didn’t speak after that.

  Alexa sat in silence, wondering what she’d said that had him shut down. Not that she cared all that much, but it was nice to talk to someone, even if he was a bit of a jerk. The silence gave her ample time to think. How was she ever going to get back to Horizon? And did she really want to go back?

  “Where are we going?” she blurted after the excruciating silence had become unbearable. They had made a left on Hunter Avenue and now were heading south on Broadway. Soon they’d pass the center of town. She knew the area like the back of her hand, but she wanted to know where he was taking her.

  “With a little digging, Santo was able to locate the other victim,” said Erik, as he slowed the car at the next stop sign.

  “Where?” Alexa remembered the murdered girl’s eyes, and she suppressed a shiver.

  “I don’t know where it happened, but the body’s been moved to the morgue. The medical examiner is already performing an autopsy. That’s where we’re going.”

  Alexa doubted an autopsy would help them in any way. The cause of death was supernatural and beyond the understanding of some medical examiner. Still, she decided not to say anything. Perhaps she was wrong. Maybe they would discover something.

  They passed Millard Avenue, and just after Mrs. Penny’s house, a small cottage with the red metal roof came into view. A deep ache like voltage coursed through her. Even though it was technically impossible, she felt anxious and out of breath.

  “Would you mind,” she began. Her tongue was heavy in her mouth, and her voice high and anxious like she was a twelve-year-old. “Do you think we could make a quick stop? It’s on the way…and it should only take a few minutes. There’s someone…” Alexa couldn’t finish, her throat clamped shut.

  Erik turned his attention to her, then after a moment, back to the road.

  “Sure. Where to?” His voice had the gentle quality again.

  Alexa cleared her throat. “Turn right up here on the next street. Should be Highland Avenue.”

  Just as Erik made a right on Highland, his cell phone rang. “Yeah,” he said, and then listened for a little while. “Okay. Be there in fifteen minutes.” He paused. “I’m with Alexa.” He listened for another moment and then, “Okay.” Erik slipped his phone back inside his jacket.

  Alexa hadn’t seen the other operatives when she had slipped into Erik’s car, thankful to be away from Ryan. Now, she wondered what Santo had said on the phone. Was he angry or disappointed that she was accompanying Erik? Had they known he had gone back to check up on her?

  But those thoughts evaporated when Alexa’s eyes spotted the small bungalow. Even in the growing darkness, she could make out the rotten roof shingles, the peeling tan-colored paint from the siding, and the tall, unkempt grass on the front lawn.

  “Stop,” commanded Alexa.

  “What?”

  “Stop here,” she repeated.

  Erik pulled the car to the right side of the road and killed the engine. Alexa could feel his eyes on her, but she wouldn’t look at him. She was concentrating on the front door of the house.

  “What are we doing here?” asked Erik as he leaned over and looked out the front window. “What is this place?”

  Before Alexa could answer, the front door crashed open.

  A woman stepped out. Her gait was as wobbly as a newborn calf trying out its legs for the first time. She threw her arms out in front of her as though she was trying to get her balance, and she made her way to a gray Toyota Echo parked in the driveway. Her black eye makeup was smeared down to her cheeks, and her dark, shoulder length hair was disheveled and looked as though she hadn’t washed it in months. Her mouth moved in conversation with some invisible person as she yanked open the door to the back seat of the car and pulled out a case of Corona beer.

  “Who’s the drunk?” asked Erik. He was so close to Alexa that she could feel his hot breath on the nape of her neck.

  She swallowed in an attempt to soothe the ache. “My mother,” she said, her voice almost a whisper. She felt a familiar shame next—shame about her mother and shame about where she’d lived in life. How pointless it all seemed now.

  Her mother left the car’s door open as she made her way back to the house, laughing at some joke only she could hear. She disappeared through the front entry and a moment later, the door slammed shut.

  “Why are you torturing yourself?” Erik’s voice was gentle and caressed her left ear. “You said it yourself. You almost drowned because of her. Why do you even care?”

  The words hurt. But Alexa hid the sting. “I know you don’t understand. You can’t. Not unless you’ve lived it. All you see is a drunk. But somewhere in there is my mother. She’s far from perfect, but she didn’t abandon me like my father did. And that means something. Yes, we had our share of problems. Yes, there was more booze in the house than actual food. Yes, for years I ate Cornflakes for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. But those precious times, those very few times when she didn’t have a bottle in her hand, and her eyes were clear, and I could really see her—those were the best days of my life.”

  She didn’t trust herself to speak after that. She searched for another glimpse of her mother, but she didn’t see her again.

  “I’m sorry.” Erik’s voice broke the uncomfortable silence, and he shifted back into his seat.

  “Don’t feel sorry for me because I don’t. There are far worse living conditions than this. Let’s go.”

  Alexa shut her eyes. She hardly heard the engine roar as Erik kicked it into life and pulled away from the curb. She was barely aware of the warm, wet tears streaming down her cheeks.

  CHAPTER 7

  AFTER A SHORT DRIVE THROUGH town, past the Coffin Grove cemetery, they turned right onto Gory Brook road and drove up the cracked concrete driveway to the morgue. The morgue was a creepy, crooked blood-red building that looked like it had been through a hurricane. Soft yellow light spilled from bottom windows that looked like glowing eyes. She’d lived in this town her entire life, and this was the very first time she’d laid eyes on the building.

&nbs
p; It was past midnight by the time Erik had parked his car and killed the engine. For a moment they both sat in an awkward silence. Alexa twiddled her fingers, not knowing if she should be the one to speak. She couldn’t explain why she felt so nervous. She tried to smell herself surreptitiously to see if she still reeked of decaying demon ash, but she couldn’t smell anything apart from gasoline. When she realized how stupid she must have looked, she felt clammy with artificial sweat that seemed disturbingly real. The fact that Erik was still withdrawn made Alexa feel even more uncomfortable. She slipped out of the car to escape the suffocating silence.

  An old black Ford four-door sedan was parked next to them. It, too, was a classic collector’s car and looked as if it had belonged to a mobster from the nineteen forties. Somehow, she guessed it belonged to Santo. It fit with his hat.

  “Wait,” said Erik.

  Alexa turned around.

  “Here,” said Erik. He handed her a large silver dagger.

  Alexa recognized it immediately as the one she had seen when Erik had confronted Ryan. She took it gladly. Archaic symbols on the blade gleamed in the soft light from the nearby street lamp. The handle was cool to the touch, and yet it seemed to have been carved in perfect harmony with her hand. The familiar feel of a soul blade gave her much needed comfort.

  She frowned and looked up at him. “But this is yours. Why would you give it to me?”

  Erik shrugged and tapped his jacket. “No worries. I have another one.”

  “But this is a soul blade.” She grinned as if she’d just been given a diamond ring. But then she stopped smiling. “How did you get it? Did you steal this from an angel? Please tell me you didn’t.”

  “Does it matter how I got it?” Erik’s smile spoke of the many mischievous things he’d done. It was the first time he had smiled like that, and it transformed his face magnificently. Alexa peeled her gaze away from him before she started drooling.

  “The real question you should be asking yourself is why the Legion sent you here without one,” said Erik. “Without real protection.”