by Alex Rivers
I frowned, a sudden idea popping into my mind. “Is that one of the reasons you wanted to do this job with me? To see if I could pull it off? To see what I could do?”
He looked away. “Everything I do is about one thing only,” he said hoarsely. “Returning my sister.”
I thought about it, desperately wanting to help, not knowing how. “I can ask around. I will ask around. And if there’s a potion or a crystal that you need—”
“I need you to search.” His eyes were desperate. “To use your powers for my sister.”
“Kane… I’m sorry. It’s just simple alchemy, nothing more. I have a few good recipes, and I’ve become very adept at following instructions. But I have no clue how to look for a soul. Maybe Isabel…”
The hope flickered away from his eyes. “You’re right. I guess I’ll talk to Isabel.”
“If there’s anything I can do to help, just tell me and I will. I promise.”
He was silent for a moment. “Did you find out if the crystal… is it the Yliaster crystal?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. All the research I did so far tells me it isn’t. The Yliaster crystal is probably a myth.” And even if it wasn’t, I couldn’t see how it would be able to help Kane’s sister.
“A myth like Pandora’s box?”
I smiled weakly. “Exactly.”
The silence stretched between us, and I was suddenly scared that this was how he would think of me. Another failure to help his sister. I cleared my throat and went to my desk, opening one of the drawers. I retrieved a small bottle.
“I have something we can drink,” I said. “It’s really potent. It can reduce inhibitions, and calm down nerves.” I located two smudged glasses on the table.
Magnus padded into the room, casting a baleful look at the discarded drill. He then approached Kane, sniffing his leg with interest.
“What is this magical potion called?” Kane asked, a sad smile on his lips. He scratched Magnus behind his ear distractedly.
“I call it the wondrous stupidifier. But I’ve heard people calling it scotch, so whatever. Call it what you like.”
I poured a glass of the amber-colored whisky for each of us.
“A bit more wondrous stupidifier for me, please,” Kane said.
I doubled his shot, and gave him the glass. He raised it and I raised my own glass, clinking it with his. I sipped, letting the burning taste linger on my tongue for a bit.
“You have a… bit of plaster in your hair,” Kane said. He reached forward, and touched my hair. For a moment his face was close to mine, and I could feel his breath on my face, his grass-green eyes staring intently into mine. My palms were trembling. I didn’t know if it was because of his proximity or because of the intense work I’d been doing, but I didn’t care. I may have fallen for this guy during a job, but it was real this time, not some sort of juvenile crush that would end in disappointment. And he came back. He was here. My lips parted slightly, and I moved forward, shutting my eyes, hoping that he wouldn’t back away, feeling expectant and anxious. His lips touched mine, and one arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me to him, and the kiss was warm, and passionate, the taste of whisky on both our tongues, and all I wanted to do was melt into him.
And then he pulled back.
“I can’t,” he said, his face twisted in sadness and pain.
I blinked. “What? Why the hell not?”
“I like you, Lou, I really do, but… my sister.”
“I know. But that doesn’t mean you stop living, right?”
“Her soul is somewhere.” His voice was on edge, ragged. “And as long as I’m alive, I can’t let anything distract me from trying to get her back. I can’t let anyone distract me. You understand that, right?”
The right thing to do was to nod, to tell him I understand. Of course, any moment he spent not trying to save his sister’s soul was a moment lost. Every minute he spent with me was a minute he could be spending researching arcane rituals to restore souls. Every hour he’d be in my bed was an hour he could be scouring the streets, looking for a cure. Every night we would cuddle together was a night he could be doing some sort of work to pay for the hospital bills that kept her body alive.
But I didn’t nod. I gritted my teeth, and glanced away, feeling the tears in my throat. I wouldn’t let him see them, no matter what.
“Lou, I—”
“It’s fine, I get it. I really need to hang this shelf. And you should talk to Isabel. She’s the expert on souls, right?”
He hovered behind me, and I hoped he would say that he’d had a change of heart—that of course he could let me into his life, that it didn’t mean he’d stop searching for a cure. That it just meant he could let himself live while he did it.
But then I heard the door of my shop opening and shutting, as he left.
I could cry now, throw myself on the counter, trembling in a sobbing fit, woe is me, the love of my life will not love me back. Perhaps I could smash a jar in a fit of rage, or go take a shower, letting my tears mingle with the water and the soapsuds. Full of pathos. The jilted girl, her broken heart, et cetera.
But I didn’t do that. Emotions should be shut in a vault, buried deeply, never to see the light of day. After all, I had to be true to my motto, let it fester.
Instead I poured myself another shot of wondrous stupidifier and swallowed it in one gulp, some of it dribbling down my chin, because life mocks those who try to act dramatically. Then I returned to my shelf, which was the most crooked one yet. But it was good enough.
After finishing with it, I walked over to the lab and approached the safe. I unlocked it, pulling the door open. The crystal sat inside it. Light pulsed weakly within its core, a shimmering golden glow.
I picked it up, carelessly gripping it in my hand. I should have known better. An alchemist never touches a magical crystal directly, unless she’s sure it’s safe.
The surface felt warm, pulsing, alive.
A single image flashed in my mind, of a club, the music pulsing in my chest, hundreds of people dancing in the smoky hall, the lights flickering from purple to red to blue.
I’d never been there before in my life. It was someone else’s memory.
Another soul.
I nearly dropped it in shock. Instead, I grabbed the chain that held it, letting go of the crystal itself. I held it up to my eyes, saw it glow brighter than ever before.
The Yliaster crystal was not a myth. I was holding it. There was a soul inside.
And if it was there, maybe I could find a way to free it. And if I managed that, could I find a way to free Kane’s sister’s soul as well?
Of course I could. I thought back to Kane’s hopeful look when he’d asked if I could help. He’d said I was special.
I was Lou fucking Vitalis. A vampire had called me legendary. I’d beaten Boston’s most notorious criminal, killing him and his goons. I’d broken into a dragon’s lair, stealing Pandora’s box from him. I’d stopped the end of the world. I was totally bitchin’, the bee’s knees, peachy-keen.
I would find a lost soul, and get it back.
I hope you enjoyed Stolen Soul. If you want to read Chasing Dreams, a free short story from Kane’s broody perspective, you can get it HERE
Also by Alex Rivers
By Alex Rivers and C.N. Crawford:
Dark Fae FBI
Agent of Enchantment
Agent of Chaos
Agent of Darkness
Agent of the Fae
About the Author
Alex Rivers is the author of the Yliaster Crystal Series and the co-author of the Dark Fae FBI Series. In the past, he's been a journalist, a game developer, and the CEO of the company Loadingames. He is married to a woman who diligently forces him to live his dream, and is the father of an angel, a pixie, and a gremlin. He has two voracious hounds that wag their tail quite menacingly at anyone who comes near his home.
Alex has been imagining himself fighting demons and vampires since forever. Writing ab
out it is even better, because he doesn’t get bitten, or tormented in hell, or even just muddy. In fact, he does it in his slippers.
Alex also writes crime thrillers under the pen name Mike Omer.
You can contact Alex by sending him an email to [email protected].
Acknowledgments
This book could never have been written without my wife, who is as a sort of super brainstorming partner-editor-coacher-psychologist-hand holder. What other authors do without my wife is always a mystery to me.
The first draft was read by Christine Crawford, who has pointed out a long list of mistakes, stumbles and downright lazy writing that I had to fix. And so I did, to make a tighter, well written book.
My sister, Yael Omer, gave her own list of irritations with the book, especially with some lines that Kane shouldn’t have said, and a pointless first chapter that would never see the light of day, and made the book even better.
My editor Elayne took that draft, and with her usual thoroughness and hilarious remarks, helped me to smooth it to near perfection.
Robin Marcus received the final draft and with her sharp eyes, removed any remaining kinks to make it shine.
Karri Klawiter designed the lovely cover of the book, and has been a joy to work with.
Thanks to all my friends at Author’s Corner whose consistent advice, cheering and friendship has been invaluable, and still is.
Table of Contents
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Books by Alex Rivers
About The Author
Acknowledgements
