Soul Bite

by D. N. Erikson

  I pushed inside, finding myself in a workshop. Broken jars littered the ground, knocked from the shelves by the storm. The ingredients would be of no use to me, anyway. I knew nothing about potions and poultices.

  There was a work bench bolted to the floor at the far end of the room.

  In the center lay Valeria’s lifeless body, her neck turned an odd angle—like an action figure that had been twisted the wrong way.

  Above her corpse, I saw my lifeline: a small window, gray light snaking through.

  I stepped up next to the body and went to hoist myself outside.

  Then I reconsidered one thing.

  I knelt and harvested the woman’s soul. If I felt bad about lying to her about a peaceful afterlife, it was mitigated by the fact that, since she’d thrown in with Aldric—regardless of motives—she was no doubt destined for the worst tiers of the Elysian Fields.

  I tucked her orange-streaked soul into my jeans and wiped the blood off my pants.

  Then I smashed the window, cleaning the jagged slivers of glass away as best I could.

  It still hurt like hell as I squeezed through the tight space.

  The house rocked back and forth like a salt shaker.

  Cut and bleeding, I rolled into the grass.

  I didn’t wait.

  I just ran for the jungle and disappeared into the thick, leafy underbrush.

  22

  Cell reception was spotty, so it was fifteen minutes before I found an opening in the trees wide enough to get a signal.

  My escape had been scored by the house’s cracking foundations. Eventually, it had slammed to the turf hard enough to shake even the ground beneath my feet. The monkeys chattered and swung through the tall treetops, irritated by the unnatural disturbance.

  Blood dripped from my sliced-up hands as the call connected.

  “Dante? It’s so early.” Sierra’s normally buoyant voice was thick with sleep. “Can’t we talk later—”

  I shrieked as a branch cracked. A squirrel scurried away.

  Breathing heavily, I said, “False alarm.”

  “Jesus, E. You scared the shit out of me.” Sierra’s voice crackled and faded. “Why are you using Dante’s phone?”

  She sounded suspicious.

  Maybe a little jealous.

  “Long story.” I dropped into a light jog, pushing through the dense brush. “I need you to come get me.”

  “What? You’re breaking up.”

  I vaulted over a mossy log and sprinted toward a sliver of light ahead. When I got to the tiny clearing, I held the phone up like I was praying.

  “I’m running from Lucille,” I yelled into the phone.

  After searching the rubble and finding my corpse conspicuously absent, it stood to reason the rain goddess would come looking for me.

  “That’s not good.”

  “Thanks for giving her all those souls, by the way.”

  “Yeah, well, you’re the one who got me the job.”

  “To save your life,” I said.

  “I feel like we’re getting off track.” Sierra stifled a yawn. It must’ve been nice to sleep until noon. Or at all. “Where are you?”

  “The middle of the fucking jungle.” I searched the verdant landscape for landmarks, finding none. I mouthed fuck to a monkey perched on a nearby branch. He didn’t seem to notice, too busy digging into a kiwi with his furry paws. “Out by this sorceress’s house.”

  “Who?”

  “That doesn’t really matter right now,” I said.

  “I might know her.”

  Right. Sierra had once dealt magical arcana kits. That meant she’d cultivated a network of amoral suppliers for her magical wares.

  “Valeria.”

  “You went out there alone?” Her tone made it sound like I’d decided to jump into a shark tank.

  “I had the rain goddess with me.”

  “Her place is booby-trapped.”

  “Dealt with,” I said. “She’s dead.”

  “Dead as in—”

  “We can play twenty questions when you pick me up,” I said. “Do you know where I am or not?”

  “Which way are you headed?”

  I glanced up at the sun and made my best guess. “South from Valeria’s property, I think.”

  Papers rustled in the background. “If you keep going two miles, you should hit a road. I’ll meet you there.”

  “Hurry.” I spun toward a rustling tree, only to find a macaw sitting on the branch. If Lucille didn’t get me, paranoia would probably rot my brain.

  Before the call ended, I was already sprinting forward, into the thick jungle.

  Running toward a fate that would almost inevitably end in death.

  23

  Sierra was waiting in her truck at the broken road when I emerged from the jungle—bleeding, dirty, and soaked through with sweat. The open air hit me like a blast of air conditioning after my run through the thick jungle.

  I climbed into the truck and collapsed into the passenger seat.

  We didn’t start moving, so I said, “Drive.”

  When we remained still, my head flopped over to glance at her. She wore jeans that looked about painted on, with cowboy boots and a red tank.

  Going for the southern belle look, complete with pickup truck.

  Her blue eyes—those eyes that had been the downfall of many a man—were wide, like I’d grown a pair of horns.

  With no small amount of irritation, I said, “What?”

  “You’re covered in blood.” Then she wrinkled her nose. “And you smell terrible.”

  “Been getting that a lot today.”

  I glanced at my arms, then stole a glance at myself in the rearview.

  Blood streaked my face like war paint. A sliver of glass jutted from my cheek.

  Adrenaline had kept me from noticing, but now I felt the thrumming pain.

  Teeth gritted, I yanked the thumbnail-sized shard out and tossed it to the floor.

  “This is a new truck, you know,” Sierra said, finally stepping on the gas. “What the hell happened, E?”

  I filled her in about the day: Blondie’s murder and the demon infestation over at the FBI. Kai Taylor being snatched up by Miesha, the cursed demon hunter. Cross almost dying. Then, to top it all off, Lucille sitting on my porch, cradling a dying Fenrir in her arms.

  After I finished, a silence overtook the cab as the wheels rolled smoothly over the jungle road.

  I closed my eyes, feeling sleep begin to take me.

  “Dante’s hurt?”

  I opened one eye, fighting off sleep’s embrace, as the truck slowed at an intersection. The sky was bright and blue, almost cloudless—a perfect tropical day, balmy and pleasant.

  “And you care why?”

  Her lips puckered.

  I said, “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “It’s not like I slept with him.” She tossed her platinum hair back. “Okay, but not more than once.”

  “He’s damaged,” I said. “Seriously.”

  “I know.”

  The way she said the words, I could already tell: she was hopelessly in love.

  For the first time, too. Usually Sierra was the one leaving behind a string of broken hearts.

  I smiled—or summoned the best approximation of one I could muster. “Cross is all yours.”

  The light turned green, but Sierra didn’t head through the empty intersection. “What’s the plan, E?”

  “Drop me off at the house. I can take care of myself.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “I got this.” I felt dizzy just trying to sit up straight.

  “I’m still bound to Lucille. Just like you, Emma.”

  My head jerked up.

  Sierra hadn’t called me by my real name since…ever. When she was a baby, our parents had told her that I was Emma, but she could only pronounce the first letter.

  Like most things in her life, Sierra got her way, and the abbreviation had stuck.

  It mu
st’ve been the end of days indeed.

  I looked at her funny, but she offered no explanation other than the obvious: she wasn’t going to hide in some hole while I ran a gauntlet of vampires and goddesses alone.

  Especially when her ass was on the line, too.

  Even if that seemed reasonable, I didn’t have to like it.

  “Fine,” I said, meeting her blue-eyed gaze, “but you follow the plan.”

  “And what is the plan, exactly?”

  “Working on it.” Kai was still out there in need of my help, but shit had just hit the fan with Lucille.

  And Aldric probably wouldn’t be happy when he heard about his go-to sorceress having her neck snapped, either.

  I slept until we reached the service road.

  Sierra gently nudged me awake.

  I shot upright, heart churning into overdrive.

  “Easy. It’s just me, E.”

  I blinked, taking in the surroundings. “I think I have a plan.”

  “Seriously?”

  “How would you feel about getting Fenrir’s help?”

  “Isn’t he loyal to Lucille?”

  “Loyalty is a fluid thing,” I said, pulling the antidote from my pocket. The vial gleamed in the light. “Especially when you’re about to die.”

  24

  When we got to the villa, I gave Fenrir some whiskey in the living room.

  The wolf growled in appreciation, but eyed us in suspicion.

  “He’s been trapped in this state for two months?” Sierra maintained a wide berth from the dying creature. “That has to be…”

  “Hell.” I yanked away the whiskey bottle. His sharp claws swiped at it weakly.

  “The way I see it, buddy, we have two options.”

  The wolf’s lip curled, unleashing a groan that made the entire couch vibrate. In this form, he had to be seven feet tall and pushing three hundred pounds. All lean, sinewy muscle. The cartilage spikes on his back bristled. I could see a jagged pink scar raking through his dark fur from where Aldric had ripped the spike clear off.

  Lucille had managed to reattach it without too much fuss, apparently.

  “You’re going to protest, you’re going to roll your eyes,” I said. “All that good shit. I get it. You’ve got to put on a show.”

  He bared his fangs, saliva and blood dripping from his mouth.

  I ignored his protest. “Remember our little talk earlier? How in Norse myth, Fenrir turned upon his master? Killed Odin.”

  Fenrir whined.

  “That’s option one. We heal you, you help us kill your master.” I removed the antidote from my pocket and dangled it over his snout.

  The wolf breathed heavily, eyes bulging out of his head.

  I leaned over and said, “Is that a yes?”

  The wolf summoned up a reserve of energy and snapped at me.

  I stumbled back and almost dropped the vial.

  “I don’t think your new pet is on board with this plan.” A wry grin spread across Sierra’s lips. “Hope you have an alternative.”

  It was wishful thinking—getting the wolf to turn on Lucille.

  “Option two it is,” I said, slipping the vial back into my jeans. “You have a gun, right?”

  Sierra pulled a pistol out of her waistband. “I do.”

  “Shoot him in the head.”

  If I’d hoped Fenrir would protest—or capitulate—I was sadly mistaken.

  With his final breath, he roared and pushed himself off the couch.

  A bullet ripped through the empty room, entering his throat.

  In his weakened state, the force sheared his head clean off.

  His furry body slammed to the bamboo floor, blood spilling from his tattered neck. The scowling jaws bounced next to it, clicking in fury for a few seconds before going still.

  “Not our biggest success, E.” Sierra nudged the head away from her with a ginger tap of her sandal.

  It was a long shot.

  But when you didn’t have many options, you played any angle you could.

  That’s what I was doing now: making the best of a bad situation.

  I flicked out the Reaper’s Switch and jammed it into the hot body.

  After digging out Fenrir’s twisted soul—tasting of blood and carrion—I held it up.

  “Gross,” Sierra said, placing her hand over her mouth. “You already have a stockpile of souls.”

  “It’s not that.” Somewhere in the corner, I heard Khan wretch.

  The cat wasn’t exaggerating.

  The smell was foul.

  “What is it then?” Sierra asked.

  I held the twisted soul up to the light. “Leverage.”

  “For what?”

  “Plan B.”

  “What’s Plan A?”

  “We let her find the body,” I said.

  “That doesn’t sound like a good plan.”

  “Not unless the only person who can kill her is waiting in the shadows.”

  “Who’s that?”

  I paused before I said the fateful name. “Aldric.”

  25

  Silence hung in the air. My nose itched from the fetid smell of Fenrir’s rotten blood.

  Khan finally broke the silence. “That is an exceptionally stupid plan, human.”

  I turned to the couch, behind which a striped tail swished. “If they kill each other—”

  “What if only one of them dies, E?” Sierra was still hiding in the kitchen.

  “Then we’re all dead,” I said. “But we were dead any way.”

  That truth hung over the room like a funeral pall until my phone rang.

  I didn’t recognize the number.

  “Hello?”

  “I just wanted to let you know that I’m okay, Eden.”

  “Kai? Did you kill that demon hunting bitch? Where are you? Tell me—”

  “Everything’s fine.”

  My relief turned into suspicion. “Miesha snatches you up and you’re fine?”

  “How do you know about Miesha?”

  “Because I’ve been looking for you for the past eight hours.”

  Kai breathed what almost sounded like a sigh of relief. “Just leave it alone.”

  “Did Rayna tell you to keep things hush-hush? I swear, after I gave her that list…”

  “What list?” When I didn’t answer, Kai said again, more forcefully, “What list, Eden?”

  “Don’t worry about it. It’s fine.”

  “What list did you give Rayna?”

  It was my turn to sigh. “A list of all the demons in the FBI. She’s going to have them all staked out. And then little Miesha is going to walk straight into a trap.”

  “Goddamnit, Eden, I told you to leave this alone.” His deep voice boomed.

  “Did I miss something? I was trying to save you, asshole. Must have missed your telepathic message to stay away and let you die.”

  “I was never in danger.” Kai’s breath caught, like he’d revealed too much. “What else did you tell Rayna?”

  “Jack shit.”

  “Good, good, that’s good.”

  “It almost sounds like you don’t want us to find the demon hunter.”

  “Just…just steer clear of this one, Eden.”

  “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Look, Eden, it’s for your own good.”

  “Sounds like it’s more for your benefit.”

  “She’ll hurt you if you keep digging, Eden.”

  “I’m not afraid of some cursed demon hunter.”

  “You should be.” A car horn blared in the background of the call. “Because I’ve been scared my whole damn life.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t want to get in your way.”

  “I can handle this. Alone.”

  A little voice screamed, but we’re a team. We’ll solve it together. And it wanted to say, I’ll help, I’ll really help. Whatever you need.

  Instead, a day’s worth of shit boiled over, and I screamed, “Well then fuck you.”
r />   “Eden—”

  My answer was the phone going through the window. Khan mewed loudly as the glass shattered.

  Panting heavily, skin flushing hot, I ran my fingers through my hair.

  “I’d say that went well,” Sierra said, emerging from the kitchen. “You’ll be screwing him in no time.”

  “I don’t want to do that.”

  “Right.”

  “Why don’t you worry about Cross,” I said. “And I’ll handle my own shit.”

  Sierra stuck her tongue out. “No need to be mean, E.”

  “Besides, Kai’s a liar.”

  “You wouldn’t have any friends if you hung out with honest people.” Sierra tossed her blonde hair back and rolled her eyes. Then she remembered the body and winced, retreating to the kitchen.

  “Don’t start with me,” I said. “Not today.”

  “I’m just saying, E.”

  “And I’m taking a shower.” I stepped over Fenrir’s body and headed up the stairs.

  “Right now?”

  “A vampire can’t come in the daytime.” I leaned over the railing on the second floor. “Besides, Lucille’s thirty miles away.”

  “She can run pretty fast.”

  “Then keep your eyes out for psychotic goddesses.”

  I headed into the empty master bedroom and shed my clothes.

  Turned on the water.

  Blood and dirt mixed in the drain. I leaned against the tile and slid down.

  And the water ran cold as I drifted off to sleep.

  26

  “E.” My sister’s hand shook me gently awake. I shivered, water dripping off my face. “It’s dark out.”

  I shook the cobwebs from my mind and shut the shower off. All the hairs on my arms were bolt upright, like little soldiers marching across a field.

  Sierra handed me a towel as I stepped out from the shower.

  I rubbed it vigorously over my body, trying to get warm. “What time is it?”

  My sister stared at me in the mirror. “About ten.”

  “Give me your phone,” I said.

  “Only if you don’t hurl it out the window.”

  Right. That. Kai’s caginess might have pissed me off.

  But I felt justified. Here I’d thought he was going to die and he was…I don’t know what the hell had gone down. It sure didn’t seem like any kidnapping.