by Anne Hope
“I was human, for a brief time.” Before his uncle murdered him. “Then I died, and the darkness inside me spread to take me over. That’s when I turned into this.” He looked down at himself, a regular guy in appearance, blessed—or cursed—with a conscience, but void of the one thing that would make him human in her eyes.
“I can feel it. The darkness.” Her voice took on a morbid quality. “I sense it whenever they’re near. What is it?”
“It’s the equivalent of a human soul and what sustains my kind. It gives its bearer supernatural strength and speed, immortality, the ability to influence human thoughts and actions. But it lacks the power to replenish itself.” He gave her a meaningful stare. “That’s why the Kleptopsychs ingest human souls. If they don’t, they’ll die.”
She nodded, her eyes shimmering with understanding. “I’ve seen what they do to people.” She filled her lungs with air, releasing it on a sigh. “How about you? Do you steal souls, too?”
His fingers tightened around the steering wheel. “No. Not anymore.” There was a time when he’d prowled the streets of Manhattan looking to feed the darkness within him. But Angie had put an end to that.
How could he make her understand what she’d done for him, the fundamental way she’d changed him? “I’m what we call a Hybrid. Unlike the Kleptopsychs, I don’t need to ingest souls to survive because I once had a soul. That soul continues to fuel me, even though it’s no longer inside me.”
A crease formed between her brows. “So that’s how you’re different from those things that keep attacking me. You were born with a soul, while they weren’t.”
“Precisely.”
She lapsed into deep thought. The lulling hum of the motor surrounded them as the Tahoe glided across the blacktop. The day grew brighter, and blinding light spilled across the windshield.
“Do you know why they’re after me?” She ran her free hand through her long, glossy hair, nervously tossing the strands over her shoulder, and he caught sight of the birthmark on her neck.
“I’m not sure.” He reached across the space that divided them and traced the heart-shaped mark with his thumb. “All I know is that it has something to do with this symbol on your neck.” He tugged at the collar of his T-shirt, exposing his own birthmark to her. “And that it somehow connects you to me.”
Emma’s hand flew to the side of her neck. A resigned expression swept over her face, stealing the luster from her eyes. “I’m the chosen one,” she whispered.
The Tahoe strayed toward the shoulder, and Adrian pried his attention from Emma only long enough to readjust the steering wheel. “The what?”
She slumped in the leather seat, her head angled sideways, her gaze focused on the blurring landscape beyond the window. “The chosen one. You’d have to ask my mother if you want the details. All I know is what she told me, and she’s convinced that I’m somehow destined to save the world.” Bitterness crept in to dull her voice. The Angie he knew would’ve embraced the opportunity. Emma seemed burdened by it, as though she resented the responsibility that had been thrust upon her narrow shoulders.
“You don’t sound too happy about it.”
“At first I was,” she confessed. “How many little girls get the chance to be a hero? It seemed like a great adventure, moving from one place to the next, changing our identities each time, never staying anywhere long enough to be discovered.”
“What changed?” Adrian thought he knew everything there was to know about Angie, but he was discovering that there was a whole other side to Emma. Angie had been pampered and sheltered, raised in wealth and privilege. An altogether different reality had shaped Emma. It had hardened her, stolen her innocence and turned her into…him.
“I realized every adventure comes with a cost.” Her features crumpled, betraying the heavy grief she carried in her heart. Outside, the world continued to streak by, a mesh of color and light. “And I’m sick and tired of paying.”
Emma must have fallen asleep along the way, because when next she opened her eyes the Tahoe was veering into a townhouse development surrounded by rolling hills and endless acres of land. A wide, cloudless sky stretched above them, disappearing behind distant mountain peaks. In the city, where tall buildings guarded the streets like dedicated soldiers, quite often the only way to see the sky was to look up. But out here, the sky was everywhere.
The SUV ground to a halt in one of the gravel driveways, and within seconds Adrian was escorting her out of the vehicle and up a meandering walkway flanked by rows of newly planted acacias. The newborn trees swayed in the breeze as she passed, welcoming her.
She breathed deeply, savoring the clean, wild air. Beneath the lingering smell of pine and juniper, she caught the unmistakable scent of wildflowers. There was something liberating and humbling about standing at the heart of so much vastness. For the first time in her life, Emma felt free. Free of oppressive thoughts and impossible expectations. Free of the incredible responsibility that had plagued her since birth. Free to be herself, whoever the hell that was.
She mounted the freshly varnished steps. “Is this your home?”
A look she couldn’t decipher passed behind his eyes. “It’s where I live.”
Emma noted the distinction but didn’t comment. She was too busy surveying the houses that encircled them, each a mirror image of Adrian’s. Like his, the townhouses looked new, the wood and paint unblemished. Two cars sat in their respective driveways in the homes adjacent to Adrian’s, a window had been left ajar three houses down, and she could’ve sworn the lights were on in one of the units across the street. But apart from that, the community was as still and silent as the surrounding woods. She wasn’t sure if that soothed or unnerved her.
Maybe a little bit of both. The quiet would take some getting used to. She was accustomed to the steady drone of motors, the squeal of tires, the hustle and bustle of city life. And yet something about the neat clusters of homes scratched at an old recollection. It was as though she’d been here before, or someplace similar, but the memory eluded her.
He opened the door and ushered her in. Emma hesitated at the threshold. “I can’t stay here for long. My mother might be looking for me.”
They had a routine, a group of haunts, a process. If her mom had survived the attack, there was a list of predetermined locations where she’d go, and this development wasn’t among them.
A note of surprise flitted across his face, then his features sobered. “You’ve been through hell these past hours. Why don’t you get some rest, and we’ll sort everything out later?”
He was holding something back. Emma could tell, but she didn’t have the energy to argue. She entered the townhouse, struck by how bare the place was. It was obvious Adrian hadn’t lived here long.
The soles of her running shoes squeaked across the gleaming hardwood floor as she ventured farther into the unfamiliar home. A two-story foyer graced the entrance, and everything branched out from there. On her right was a small living room, boasting a sofa, one armchair, a coffee table and a stone fireplace. Straight ahead was the kitchen, which opened up to a breakfast niche. On her left, a winding staircase curled toward the floor above.
Emma walked up to one of the windows and gazed briefly at the vista beyond the glass. Untamed meadows morphed to rolling hills, which in turn folded into the snowcapped San Francisco Peaks. Rain-fed arroyos wound their way through snarls of tall grass and colorful expanses of wildflowers.
“This view is breathtaking.” It almost made her forget how ugly life could be.
She slanted a glance his way and wished she hadn’t. The way he looked at her, the raw yearning in his eyes, clutched at her abdomen and sent an embarrassing flush racing over her skin. There was something undeniably seductive about a man who could swallow a woman whole with his gaze. Something hot, dangerous and darkly alluring.
And it terrified her more than the monsters hunting her.
“I think I’ll take you up on that offer. I could really use som
e sleep.” Exhaustion was playing havoc with her nervous system, not to mention her emotions. She needed to pull herself together, to come up with an action plan, to figure out her next move. But first, she needed to rest.
“You’re welcome to use the guestroom. It’s upstairs on your left.”
“I appreciate it. Appreciate all you’ve done.” She studied him, her mind struggling to make sense of him. He was so polite, so civilized for someone deprived of a soul. She’d never come across anyone like him before.
Maybe it was pure insanity for her to let her guard down. Maybe she was nuts to even contemplate the idea of sleep with a creature of darkness lurking in the house. But her crazy female intuition reassured her she didn’t need to fear Adrian. There was a quiet quality about him, a sense of empathy and patience that put her at ease and made her feel safe.
Gripping her backpack, she walked past him and bolted up the stairs, fighting to ignore the burning feel of his gaze on her back as she mounted the steps. When she got to the guestroom, she locked the door and collapsed on the bed.
The sunlight was so bright it hurt her eyes, so she closed her lids to block it out. But, despite her efforts, a pink glow continued to pulse along the edges of her vision, as bright and persistent as Adrian’s haunting face.
Adrian stood on his front porch, his hands resting on the railing, gazing blindly into nothing. The hazy light of dawn had ripened into the whitewashed glare of late morning, and still he couldn’t bring himself to find oblivion in sleep.
Not with Angie tucked away in the next room, so damn close and yet still so far out of his reach.
He wanted to touch her, to gather her in his arms and show her just how much he’d missed her. He needed her to trust him the way she had before, to look at him with recognition and—if he dared hope—affection.
His fingers flexed, then curled around the railing, tighter than before. Something thick and painful lumped in his chest. He wanted her to remember him. Wanted it so badly he ached inside.
The sound of a door opening and closing interrupted his heavy musings. He looked up to see Eddie stepping out of Sheila’s townhouse across the street. He’d suspected that the two Rogues had a thing going, but he hadn’t had confirmation until now. Despite his gregarious nature, Eddie was pretty tightlipped when it came to his personal life.
When he noticed Adrian watching him, Eddie froze for a second. Then, looking sheepish, he shuffled across the street, climbed the steps and came to stand beside him.
Adrian maintained the uncomfortable silence.
“Well, aren’t you going to say anything?” Eddie bristled.
“No. None of my business.” And he meant it. Unlike Cal, leader of the Watchers, Adrian had no interest in policing his recruits’ sex lives. Eddie was free to do whatever he pleased with whomever he pleased.
The cop relaxed and quickly changed the subject. “What happened in Phoenix?”
A blue heron swooped between the distant trees, gracefully riding the wind. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me.”
The sweet ache inside him intensified. “I tracked her down.” Angie. “Emma. She was holed up in a motel room a few miles from the apartment complex.”
“You’re kidding. If it was that easy for you to locate her, I’m surprised the Kleptopsychs didn’t catch up to her.”
“They did.” Adrian ran his palm over his face to chase away the weariness. “I fought them off.”
Only then did Eddie notice Adrian’s haggard appearance. He scrutinized him from head to toe, his gaze settling on the shrinking scar on his knuckles. “You all right?”
“It’s just a superficial wound. I’ll recover.” It was the scars he bore inside he couldn’t seem to get rid of.
“Where is the woman now?”
Adrian aimed a glance at the second-story window. “Inside, sleeping.”
“You brought her here? Are you out of your mind?”
“I couldn’t leave her. They would’ve killed her.” He recalled what had happened to Emma’s mother, how the Kleptopsychs had dragged her off to God knew where. “Or worse.”
Emma had no idea her mother had been abducted, and Adrian hadn’t had the heart to tell her. But eventually, he’d have no choice but to come clean with her. She deserved to know the truth.
Eddie wagged his head in disapproval. “But a human here, among Rogues, that’s plain nuts.”
The man was right. Admitting a human into a Rogue community wasn’t exactly something Adrian would normally recommend. Rogues, even the ones living on this ranch, craved souls. Adrian had made a point of recruiting only Hybrids, and over the years he’d trained the members of his community to control their dark urges. Some didn’t feed at all, while others only feasted on diseased souls.
But that didn’t change what they were. As much as he trusted his recruits, Adrian had to admit that Emma’s soul was a temptation the inhabitants of this development could do without.
Still, every so often, an exception had to be made.
“We’ve had humans among us before.” Most recently, Ben, the boy Marcus and Regan had been desperate to hide from the Watchers.
Eddie snickered, still shaking his head. “Yeah, and look how that turned out.”
It had landed the Watchers on their doorstep, and several members of Adrian’s community had lost their lives as a result.
“And the Watchers aren’t anywhere near as vicious as the Kleptopsychs,” Eddie reminded him. “If the Kleptopsychs track that woman here, they’ll tear this place apart. They won’t rest until they’ve killed every last one of us.”
“She’s not just any woman.”
Eddie was the only one here besides him who’d known Angie. He’d seen how deeply Adrian had mourned her death. Without Eddie’s friendship and support to help him through those dark months following Angie’s passing, Adrian was convinced he would’ve lost whatever remained of his humanity. If anyone would understand the dilemma he faced, it was Eddie.
“It’s Angie,” he whispered. “I’ve finally found her.”
Chapter Five
Eddie’s owl-eyed expression reflected his shock. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. I feel it.”
For nearly twenty-six years, Adrian had waited for his inner compass to kick in and guide him to Angie. After her death, he’d returned to New York and visited all the places she’d held dear—her home, the nonprofit organization where she’d volunteered, the subway station where they’d met, the old theater—but nothing had triggered a response in him.
There were echoes of her everywhere, but the lingering traces of her energy hadn’t been strong enough to lead him to the person who now harbored her soul. The emptiness and regret he’d felt, the sense of aloneness that had swept over him, had nearly destroyed him.
The only thing that had kept him going was the promise he’d made to her—the promise that if they were separated, he’d find her again. A promise he’d failed to keep.
Until now.
Eddie scratched his head. “Holy hell.”
A smile tugged at Adrian’s mouth. That had been Angie’s favorite expression. One Eddie had adopted over the months he’d known her.
“Does she remember her past life?”
Adrian leaned forward, propping his elbows on the railing and staring at the distant outline of the mountains. “Not as far as I can tell.”
Eddie whistled in wonder and respect. “That must be tough.”
A caustic chuckle blasted from his lungs. “You’ve got no idea.”
Silence swelled between them, until the only sound was that of the breeze whispering through the surrounding trees. Sometimes the stillness out here was so deep it grew oppressive. Today, Adrian welcomed it.
“So how did Angie’s old soul get tangled up in all this?” Eddie asked.
“I’m not sure, but she seems to think she’s ‘the chosen one’.”
Eddie raised a skeptical brow.
&nb
sp; “Her words, not mine.” Adrian shrugged. “But it makes sense. The Watchers have been talking about the coming Apocalypse for years. If they’re right, then it stands to reason that the angels will have a hand in the outcome. And that means handpicking their soldiers.”
He thought back to that whole business with Ben, to Marcus’s belief that the kid was some kind of prophet. He wished he knew how it had all turned out. Had the boy survived? Had Marcus?
“If we’ve stumbled onto Watcher territory, then we’re in over our heads.” Eddie propped his forearms on the wooden railing next to Adrian. “The last thing we need is your old man paying us another visit.” The cop’s resentment for the Watchers had grown exponentially after the slaughter they’d instigated in Spokane. Granted, Adrian’s father, Marcus, might have been a victim of the attack as well, but that did little to comfort the cop. As far as Eddie was concerned, all Watchers were bad news.
“Assuming he’s still alive.” Regret soured in Adrian’s mouth. He wished he could’ve done more to help Marcus. The two hadn’t exactly enjoyed a typical father-son relationship, but over the years they’d learned to tolerate each other.
Eighteen months ago, when his father had come knocking on his door, Adrian had realized that he and Marcus weren’t all that different after all. One could even say they’d forged a reluctant friendship.
But then the Watchers had attacked, and Adrian didn’t have a clue what had become of his father once the dust settled.
“You never told me what happened when you went back for him.” Eddie studied Adrian from the corner of his eye.
Adrian revisited that unfortunate day in his memory, the way he had several times since the incident occurred. “One of the Watchers confessed to murdering Marcus. Then he attempted to cut me down.” He remembered the showdown like it was yesterday. “So I killed him with his own blade.”
In their world, murder was nothing new, nothing surprising. The Kleptopsychs, the Watchers and the Rogues raged war every day. Each faction thought their way was best, but the truth was they were all the same—dark, immortal beings with cursed Nephilim blood coursing through their veins. The only differences were how pure that blood was and whether or not they had a conscience.
