Torn Souls (Soul Ties Book 2)

by LJ Swallow

  As I turn to leave, a movement in the shadows catches my eye and I freeze. Retrieving the stained dagger from my boot, I ready for possible attack. Maybe the demon called in reinforcements before he followed me in here, and I’m not as clever as I thought. Shit.

  I peer into the shadows. The alleyway is empty, but at one end, a tall human figure slips sideways around the building, back onto the street. I shake my head. Post-kill, I’m always hypervigilant. Edging against the wall, I move to the street and close my eyes, attempting to sense if any demons are near. A couple walk past me and the girl stops in surprise.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I'm fine, thanks.”

  The guy studies me. “You sure?”

  I nod vigorously, pulling away from the wall. “Yep, all good.”

  The guy glances at his girlfriend, pulling his sports jacket around his broad chest. “I wouldn't hang around here on your own. It's getting late.”

  “Thanks. I'm fine.” I give them an easygoing smile and walk in the opposite direction.

  Behind, I hear their low voices as they pause before continuing their journey. Yeah, the shadow I saw was probably just a human passing by the entrance to the alleyway.

  I tread along the dirty pavement, skirting around paper and polystyrene cartons strewn on the path as I go. The campus is a short walk from where I tracked the demon, so at least I have some of my evening left after chasing a useless demon with no helpful information on Alexander’s whereabouts. The post-kill buzz lifts me, equally matched by the glowing prospect I could see Jack again tonight. If he's free.

  JACK

  An evening of attempting to pull Dahlia from my thoughts fails, and I end up wandering the grounds of the halls. Into Dahlia's halls building. Great, she'll think I'm stalking her. Oh well, Dahlia can tell me to piss off if she wants. I'll nonchalantly sit here and wait for her. Outside her room. Like a crazy ass stalker.

  I check my Facebook status twenty times and scroll through Twitter over and over, that's how bored I am. How long does it take to kill a demon anyway?

  Footsteps on the carpeted hallway alert me to another arrival, and I push to my feet. My long legs stretched across the hallway already pissed a few people off, so I move before these arrivals reach me. The footsteps halt, and I look over. Dahlia.

  Now that's what I call demon-hunting gear. Black leather jacket, dark, tight trousers, and ass-kicking boots. Dahlia's hair is one long braid, pulled away from her delicate face, and as she approaches, I take time to appreciate fully the fit of the clothes on her curves. I blink, astounded by how sexy she looks. Dahlia’s face is reddened from the cool night air, and she regards me with amusement.

  “What are you doing here, Jack?”

  “I wanted to see you. I know you said you were busy, but...” How long have I sat and rehearsed this? And still I end up sounding lame.

  “I'm done now, but I'm tired.”

  I inhale and pull a face. “Okay, I just wanted to see what you were doing tomorrow.”

  She smirks. “Really?”

  “Yeah.”

  “At 11 p.m. at night? When you'll see me in class tomorrow?”

  Busted. I fight the pink I'm sure is accompanying the heat crossing my face. “I'd call, but I don't have your phone number.”

  She half smiles at my attempt of an excuse, then holds her hand out. “Hand your phone over then.”

  I fumble in my pocket. Dahlia punches her number into the screen with black-stained fingers and returns the phone.

  “Thanks,” I mumble.

  “You're welcome.”

  Something’s different about Dahlia. There’s a shine in her eyes and a fought-down smile; a new air of confidence exudes from her. Unfortunately, her relaxed stance has the unfortunate effect of flustering me further.

  I run my hand through my hair, a surefire way of showing her I'm nervous. I shove my hands in my jacket pocket instead. “Well, night then.”

  Dahlia steps towards me, and I back up like a stupid kid. “Aren't you going to kiss me, Jack?”

  The unexpected words smack away my disappointment. Beautiful Dahlia, in goddamn sexy clothes, asks me to kiss her, and what do I do? I stare at her and don't move. This awkwardness has to stop. I need to move beyond this with her—because she's apparently not awkward around me.

  Dahlia edges closer. “You’re so bloody tall, Jack. I can't reach you.” She moistens her lips.

  Holy crap.

  Whatever comes over me, I've no idea, but suddenly I have her pressed against the door, opposite the spot we stood moments before. Dahlia gasps as my mouth crushes hers, and she wriggles against me. Oh god, don't do that. My tongue dips into her mouth, the sweet taste of Dahlia and the scent of her overwhelming my senses and common sense. I don't want to scare this girl, but she asked me, didn’t she? There're no signs to misread here.

  Funnily enough, I don't need to worry, I'm the one pushed away. I stumble backwards. Whoa, demon-killing Dahlia has some strength in those arms.

  “Sorry...” I say.

  She shakes her head, eyes dark. “Don't squash me.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Stop saying sorry.” She pushes me back, against the opposite wall and I slide my legs across the hallway, so I'm closer to her height.

  I grin at her. “Sorry.”

  Dahlia tips her head, giving me a mock pout of annoyance. “Kiss me again, Jack.”

  Grabbing hold of her rear, I pull Dahlia close, and as soon as her breasts crush against my chest, I'm gone and there's no point trying to hide my arousal anymore. We lose ourselves in an intense kiss; our tongues and lips explore as we connect. I’m no longer in this world; I’m with Dahlia somewhere far away. Too soon, Dahlia's small hands come between us and my heart thumps into her palms as she pushes me away.

  “Thank you,” she says and nudges her nose against mine.

  I can't breathe. I don't want this girl to disconnect from me.

  Her featherlight touch traces my lips. “I need to sleep. I hope you want to kiss me again soon.”

  Reluctantly, I drop my arms from her. “I'll kiss you anytime you ask me, until I can't breathe and then some more.” I can't bloody breathe now.

  Dahlia smiles coyly and reaches out to my face again.

  “Goodnight, Jack.”

  And she's gone, through her door, and into the room. I knock my head gently on the wall behind me, breath returning, and warmth bursting in my chest. Dahlia wants me.

  13

  DAHLIA

  Spring turns into summer in a couple of short weeks. I'm adapting to Jack's world, although spending time with people in Jack's social circle freaks me out more than the prospect of taking on Alexander. Even though most of his friends are accepting of me, I can't let my guard down around them as I can with Jack. Their socialising is minimal anyway, which helps. Most interaction occurs on the computer or in the Student Union. Occasionally they hang out in the pub, which can be an amusing spectacle if Kyle has a few too many drinks. Other times, when Jack is close and soothing my anxiety, I need to remind myself I'm not human like they are. Despite sharing their physical makeup, my genetics are slightly different. To put it mildly.

  Faith isn't my biggest fan. A couple of days after I returned she threw twenty questions at me about where I'd been, why I was back, and who I was. I understand why she's overprotective of Jack, because he's such a nice guy, but the girl can be aggressive. My natural inclination is to retaliate against aggression, but she hasn't pissed me off to that level. Yet. Jack dismisses her behaviour as how Faith is, but I'm sure she saves the worst for me. I smile through my lies to her, as I lie to myself too when I deny to her I'll leave Jack again.

  Kyle doesn't mention the Phoebe incident and behaves normally around me—if this is normal behaviour for him. He's very loud and says odd things, enjoys people laughing at him. I’m relieved when Jack assures me Kyle believes he was high at the time of the demon attack and doesn’t remember me being there.

  The
weeks pass, and I live in my two worlds. I slay demons and collect their souls in my hunt for information about Alexander, and I go to classes with Jack. I love studying; Jack doesn't understand why I bother, but says my influence has rubbed off on him because he now attends class to be with me.

  I squint at the bright day as we walk to catch the bus back to the halls from uni. When the bus arrives, we jump aboard. Jack steps aside so I can sit by the window, then shuffles next to me. His protectiveness amuses me; perhaps in his head, he hasn't fully accepted I'm not delicate flower Dahlia. Automatically, Jack takes my hand and plays with my fingers as he stretches his long legs in front of him. Jack constantly touches me: a hand on my leg, or across my shoulders, and often holds my hand as if scared I'll disappear if he lets me go. Jack's also overly respectful; and unless I make it obvious I want him to kiss me, he won't try. As soon as he does though, I can tell he doesn't want to stop.

  Jack lets go of my hand to hug me to him, and I rest my head on his shoulder, enjoying the safety and serenity of Jack. Inhaling his familiar smell of washing detergent and soap, I relax. Everything is easier now I know I won’t be hauled in front of anyone for misdemeanours every time I kill a demon or spend time with Jack. Tracking Alexander is going okay, but I don't know if I have a time limit.

  I don't want to think about a time limit.

  “Are you out tonight?” he asks.

  “Are you gaming tonight?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, I guess we're having our usual Tuesday night, then.”

  Jack grins and moves his mouth to my ear, his fringe tickling my face. “Bet I kill more demons than you.”

  “Hmm. Sure Jack, but mine are real.”

  “Do you ever get hurt?” He shoots the question back so quickly it confuses me.

  “It's always a danger; but I've managed this far, I'm not worried.” As if I'm going to tell him every demon is a risk to my life, and the one I'm chasing could end in disaster for me.

  “Not so far?” His hand tightens on my knee, so I put mine on top.

  “I'm fine. They wouldn't send me back to do this if they thought I'd die.”

  The bus stops, lurching us away from our conversation. The walk to the halls doesn't take long, and Jack falls silent again.

  I squeeze his hand. “Don't stress.”

  “I don't want you to get hurt,” he says quietly.

  Stopping, I turn Jack’s head to mine and look into his troubled eyes. “I would say I'm a big girl and I can look after myself, but that’s obviously not true. I might be small, but I could still hit you into next week if I wanted.”

  The troubled look is edged out by amusement. He leans forward and kisses the top of my head. “I don't doubt that.”

  “I'll come over to yours afterwards?” I suggest, wanting the conversation over.

  Jack pulls me towards him, wrapping his long arms around my waist, and placing the softest kiss onto my lips. He doesn't need to say yes.

  Tonight’s kill is easy. I step back, looking with disgust at my stained hands and the disintegrating figure of the demon on the ground. A sudden shiver creeps from the base of my skull slowly down my back; something isn’t right and I spin around in the darkness. The shadowy figure lurks nearby again. This time I catch sight of him. Definitely male. No way is this a female form—he's a full foot taller than me, taller than Jack too. This is all I can focus my eyes on in the darkness before he melds into the shadows and disappears.

  My pulse hikes, adding to the increased speed caused by battling the demon lying dead at my feet. This is the third time I've seen the figure this week. Breathing still laboured from the fight, I try to steady my breath to listen, but the ragged sound and heartbeat in my ears interrupts. I hesitate a few moments, then approach the direction the figure went.

  The yellow-lit street contains a few passersby, but no solitary, tall figures. Is he Alexander? Surely if he were, I'd be crumpled on the ground next to the demon I killed. Information gleaned from weaker demons suggests I'm closing in on Alexander; perhaps he's trying to find me first. I shiver again as I walk along the street, past the parked cars jammed together along the edge of the road. I’m done for tonight; now I'm eager to find Jack before the rest of the night disappears.

  When I return to Jack, he’s still killing his demons. I don't know what fascinates me more: the intensity of Jack's interaction with the moving figures on his computer screen or the semi naked demon on the poster above his bed. I tip my head and study her. The creature has an exaggerated female form—especially in the breasts department—and despite her purple skin and long black hair, she is beautiful. The creature’s clothing barely covers her slender figure and her bright yellow eyes and talon like hands add to the demonic image. Has the person who drew the picture met a demon because she’s uncomfortably realistic?

  I turn back to Jack and stand over his shoulder.

  “Almost done. Did you want a beer?” he asks.

  He’s already had a few judging by the smell of beer on his breath. Jack pushes his headphones half off so he can hear me, but he isn’t paying attention. I peer at the brightly coloured figures on his screen. Okay, so no demons for him tonight, just a huge dragon. At least they don't exist anymore. As far as I know. Taking a bottle from inside the cardboard holder, I open the beer and sit on the floor to wait.

  “Okay, guys, gotta go.” Jack says his goodbyes and turns around in his chair. “Sorry.”

  “Stop saying sorry.”

  “Sorry.”

  I throw my bottle cap at his grinning face. “Kill many demons tonight, gamer boy?”

  “No, just a crazy-ass dragon. You?”

  “Couldn't find any dragons.”

  “Ha, ha.”

  I take a drink. Jack’s face darkens, and I follow his gaze. The silver flash of metal protrudes from my boot.

  “Do you always bring weapons when you visit your boyfriend?”

  Silence hits, and the lamp next to Jack's laptop highlights his pink face.

  “Boyfriend? So does that make me your girlfriend?”

  He rubs his head. “Sorry.”

  “Jack...”

  “Okay, I meant I didn't want to presume.”

  “You're a strange guy.”

  “Says the girl with a dagger hidden in her boot.”

  I knock my boots together by the toes. “Why are you still so nervous around me, Jack? If this is what we are.”

  “Because you're important. I don't want to scare you away and...” He swigs beer. “Okay, I've never had a girlfriend before. Not a proper one.”

  This stuns me. How? This guy is drop-dead gorgeous. Scruffy around the edges, but those cheekbones, his toned arms, body... My stomach fizzes as I linger my look on those arms and his lithe figure. Add in his warm and caring nature, and Jack's the full boyfriend package.

  “Well, I’ve never had a proper boyfriend before either, so you can relax.”

  “No?” His incredulity reflects mine.

  “Life keeps me busy. Besides, I'm not a proper girlfriend.”

  Jack slides off the chair and sits opposite me. His eyebrows dip, and he does an endearingly familiar thing. Whenever he’s deciding what to say, and whether to say it or not, he half mouths the words without realising. This usually comes before a very awkward question so I brace myself.

  “Dahlia. This is going to sound really, really odd but... are you human?”

  I shuffle towards him. Reaching out, I take his hand and place it on my chest. Between my breasts and above my heart.

  “Do I feel human?” His hand tenses, and when he looks at me with darkening eyes, I realise my actions could come across as an invitation for something else. “I mean my heartbeat, Jack...”

  Jack sounds as if he's struggling for breath so I squeeze his hand and move it away from my chest, amused at his reaction.

  The darkened eyes remain on me, the desire behind them clear. “Yeah. Very human.”

  Jack pulls me to him; his lips press
ing mine so forcefully, I'm taken by surprise. He slips his hands beneath my jacket, under my shirt, and splays them across my back. As he flicks his tongue across my lips, I part mine in return, eagerly awaiting his kiss. Jack's fringe tickles my face, and I smooth the hair away with both hands, holding his face firmly to mine.

  JACK

  What is this girl doing to me? One touch, and my brain explodes into overwhelming desire to merge every part of me with her. Body, soul, mind... But mostly body. Every. Single. Time. I’m proud of my self-control, but this time... why the hell did she put my hand there? Right now Dahlia could tell me she was a demon too, and I wouldn't care because she’s turned my brain into mush.

  I run my hands along her side; the warm, soft skin begs me to move my face from Dahlia’s lips to her body. My thumb skims under her breasts; so close, my hands shake. Primal Jack urges me on, but the sensible Jack, who doesn't want Dahlia to run, informs me the hand on her chest thing wasn't an invitation for more. Or was it? Crap. I don't know. The internal battle interrupts my kissing her.

  Dahlia pulls away, touching her lips and studying me. “You taste like beer.”

  Kind of an obvious statement. Or a subject change.

  “Okay, so you're human,” I say and clear my throat as the hoarseness takes over.

  Dahlia's crease of cuteness appears between her eyes. “Not entirely.”

  World lurch. Reality shift. Here we go. “Not entirely?”

  “Mostly.”

  I drain my bottle, pleased I've had enough beer to cushion me from the incoming information. “Where are you from?”

  “Nowhere you know.”

  “Yeah, I know that.”

  Dahlia sighs and picks the foil off the neck of her bottle. “I don't know how to explain to you. There's not much in the truth, which makes sense in your... reality. This is why I’m vague with you.”

  Balls form in Dahlia's hands as she rolls the foil into tiny specks, and she arranges them absentmindedly on the carpet.

  “How about telling me where you grew up?” I suggest.