Soul Chase (Dark Souls)

by Anne Hope

After an endless string of commercials, selling everything from laundry detergent to tampons, the host finally came on the screen and welcomed his next guests—a couple from Wisconsin.

  Within seconds they launched into a heavy discussion about their relationship, revolving mainly around the man’s inability to let go of his late wife’s memory.

  “He still has all her things,” the new wife complained. “He told me he got rid of them, but I found them last week, stashed away in the attic.”

  Emma looked down at the shirt she wore, realizing exactly whose clothing she’d been borrowing. Her skin prickled uncomfortably. How did she expect Adrian to see her for who she was now, when she kept wearing his dead girlfriend’s clothes?

  “You’re holding on to your late wife’s things because you’re afraid,” the host explained. “Afraid to move forward.”

  No shit. She didn’t need a degree in psychology to figure that one out.

  “Only when you’re able to let go of those painful memories will you be able to commit yourself fully to your new life, your new wife,” the host advised with a plastic grin.

  The husband just sat there, looking guilty and miserable.

  “I want you to do something for me,” the host continued. “I want you to go back home tonight and clear out that attic together. Say your goodbyes, give yourself a few minutes to mourn, then open your hand and release the past. Visualize it flying away, like a bird.”

  Oh, brother.

  Emma flicked off the television set and tossed the remote on the table, unable to take the drama any longer. Maybe she should’ve opted for one of the soap operas after all.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Adrian returned at noon with a handful of bags and that lopsided grin of his. The one that made his cheek dimple and her pulse rage out of control.

  Emma tempered her steps as she went to greet him at the door, trying not to appear desperate or needy. “I was wondering when you’d get back.”

  “Had a few things I needed to pick up.” He walked past her, still gripping the bags.

  Curiosity got the better of her, and she tried to steal a glimpse of his purchases, but he turned sideways, obstructing her view.

  Was it a coincidence that he’d gone out as soon as she’d told him it was her birthday? Maybe it was childish of her, but the idea that he may have gotten her something filled her with sentimental bliss. She’d cherish anything he gave her, whether it was a box of chocolates or a single long-stemmed rose.

  “Smells good.”

  Her trademark dish, chicken cacciatore, simmered on the stovetop. “I made lunch. I figured it was time I cooked for you for a change.” She was a decent cook, a skill she’d had no choice but to acquire over the years. She and her mom rarely ate out for fear of drawing unwanted attention.

  He placed his purchases on the kitchen table. The name printed in bright red letters on the bags wasn’t one she recognized. “So how long are you going to keep me in suspense? What was so urgent you had to rush out of here this morning?”

  She knew how reluctant he was to leave her alone even for a few hours, which meant he must have had a pretty compelling reason to take off on his own. Yesterday, they’d all split up on the way back to the development, hoping to muddy the trail so the Kleptopsychs wouldn’t be able to follow them. Adrian had seemed satisfied that they’d effectively covered their tracks, but still, there were always risks involved.

  “Thought there were a few things you could use.”

  She eyed the bags again. “Those are all for me?”

  Arching a brow, he pulled out a pair of size-four women’s jeans and dangled them from his index finger. “Unless you think I can fit into these.”

  Emma rushed to the table and began rummaging through the bags. There were sweaters and T-shirts, pajamas and slippers, and some lacy underwear that made her flush with embarrassment and heat.

  “You picked all this stuff out yourself?”

  He shrugged uneasily. “The saleslady helped. I’m not an expert on women’s clothing, but I think I have a pretty good idea what you like.” His gaze connected with hers, simmering with unspoken understanding. “I thought, maybe, you’d feel more comfortable wearing something new.”

  Emotion lumped in her throat. It was both wonderful and disconcerting to be with a man who was so intuitive. A man who could see inside her soul and know what she wanted before she did.

  Instead of getting her a generic box of chocolates or a bunch of flowers that would be dead in a day or two, he’d gone straight to the heart of the matter and given her the one thing she needed above all else—her own identity.

  “What’s wrong?” Horror swept across his face. “Damn, I made you cry.”

  She raised her hand to her cheek, surprised to find it damp. She hadn’t even felt the tears come.

  “If you don’t like the stuff, I can take it back.” He shoved the jeans he held back in the bag, hurried to clear the table of his purchases, but Emma gripped him by the forearm.

  “Don’t. I love them. It’s just— No one’s ever done anything so sweet for me.”

  Amusement curled his mouth. “And no one’s ever called me sweet before.”

  “Oh, but you are.” She slid her arms around his waist, experienced a thrilling rush of excitement when he pulled her close and flattened her against him. Raising herself on her tiptoes, she brushed a tender kiss across his lips. “You are without a doubt the sweetest man on the planet.”

  And she meant it.

  Adrian had been correct. The unfamiliar feeling humming inside him was happiness. It shot through his veins each time Emma spoke to him. It lurched in his chest whenever she directed a shy smile his way. And when she touched him, when she nestled in his arms or planted a hesitant kiss on his mouth, it downright strangled him.

  It felt strange to spend such a normal day in her company, unburdened by the realities of the world surrounding them. Normal wasn’t something he was accustomed to, but it was definitely something he could get used to.

  Of course, the odds that this unnatural state of peace would last long enough for that to happen were slim to none. A fact he was sadly reminded of every time a shadow passed behind her eyes.

  Like right now.

  She stood by the back door, gazing at the vista outside, her expression as distant as the mountains dotting the horizon.

  Adrian walked up behind her, wrapping his arms around her middle, the way he used to do with Angie. Emma tensed at his touch, then relaxed against him, her back easing into his upper body.

  Holding her was as natural to him as breathing, but for Emma it was both new and disconcerting. It would take a while before she grew comfortable enough in his presence to accept his touch without that initial jolt of surprise. Maybe in time, she’d even come to expect it, the way Angie had.

  “I can tell you’re doing it again.” He brushed a kiss on the top of her head.

  “Doing what?”

  “Worrying.”

  Her body stiffened in his arms, and he regretted making the observation. “I can’t help it. It just feels wrong, being here with you like this.”

  His heart took a dive. He tightened his hold on her, unwilling to let the fantasy end just yet. “Why?”

  “Because I’m supposed to be some kind of savior, but all I do is mess up. How am I supposed to save the world when I keep getting people killed?” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I can’t even save my own mother.”

  He turned her around to face him. “There’s nothing more you can do right now. Not until we get another lead.”

  “I know that. But I can’t help but feel…”

  “Guilty?”

  “Yes.” Her features crumpled. “She’s out there somewhere, probably suffering, still fighting to protect me, and I’m—” a sigh blasted from her lips, “—happier than I’ve ever been in my life.” She yanked the door open and went to stand on the back porch.

  Adrian followed her out into the scalding day. “Would
it make you feel better if you were miserable?”

  “Yes, damn it. It would.” She shook her head, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “I bet my sister would’ve known what to do. She wouldn’t have run. She wouldn’t be hiding right now.”

  Her admission surprised him. “You have a sister?”

  “Had. She died before I was born. But the way I hear it, she was some kind of saint. She never let our mom down. Not the way I have.”

  Suddenly, he understood. “She’s your ghost.”

  “Yes.” Her hands clutched the wooden railing so hard her knuckles blanched. “I know my mother loves me. She’d give her life to protect me. But sometimes when she looks at me, I get the feeling I’m not the one she’s seeing.” Her voice thinned to a whisper. “The one she wants to see.”

  Everything became crystal clear now—her insecurities and self-doubt, her fear that she’d never be enough. Emma had spent her whole life walking in someone else’s shadow, trying to live up to the glorified memory of a person she’d never met.

  “I’ve failed consistently,” she confessed. “From the day I was born.” A self-deprecating chuckle escaped her lips as her hand rose to the birthmark on her neck. “I think the angels got it wrong. They chose the wrong sister.”

  She tried to downplay her pain, but he saw it in her sloped shoulders, in her white-knuckled grip, in the defeated slant of her head. And it damn near broke him.

  He ran the back of his fingers over her neck, turned his palm around to cover her hand with his. “No, they chose right. You’re special, Emma. I feel it. Your soul, it’s different, powerful. You just haven’t figured out how to use it yet.”

  “What if I never do?”

  “You will.”

  “How can you be so sure?” She lowered her hand, exposing her neck.

  Adrian leaned over and kissed the graceful column of her throat, then skimmed his mouth over her birthmark. He could’ve sworn it came alive at his touch, resonating with energy.

  When he pulled back, electric light pulsed off her skin, as pure as it was blinding. “I can see it.”

  She angled her head to look at him. “I don’t believe you.”

  After everything they’d been through together, she still didn’t trust him fully. “I’d never lie to you.” Maybe she didn’t remember him making that promise ages ago, but he did, and he had every intention of keeping it.

  Her mouth softened, a sure sign that she was coming around. Before she had a chance to change her mind, he kissed her, hard. It was a kiss ripe with fire and emotion and conviction. A kiss meant not only to seduce but to persuade.

  She veered into his embrace, her arms rising to encircle his neck. Bowing her back, she bridged the breath of air that separated them, bringing her body flush against his. His hands settled on her hips, stroked her waist, explored the curve of her backside…

  Footsteps rustled nearby, jolting them apart.

  “Boy, someone sure cranked up the heat around here.” Eddie’s voice cut through the steaming fog in Adrian’s mind. “Don’t mind me. I thought you might need a friend today, but it looks like I was wrong. You’re doing just fine without me.” The Rogue turned to leave.

  Adrian exhaled roughly, struggling to calm the rush of his pulse, confusion wrinkling his brows. “Why? What’s so special about today?”

  Eddie stopped in his tracks, spun on his heels and stared at Adrian with a look of dumb shock. “It’s October twenty-third.” Ice chips shot through Adrian’s veins at the mention of that date, chasing all remnants of heat from his blood. “The anniversary of Angie’s death.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Adrian couldn’t believe he’d forgotten. He’d been so wrapped up in Emma, he’d barely realized what year it was, let alone what date. All he’d cared about was making this day extra special for her.

  And now Eddie had gone and ruined it.

  Emma’s skin had turned bone white, and the softness that had played around her mouth seconds before he’d kissed her was gone.

  “Things have been so crazy around here lately—” His voice failed him. “I didn’t—” Check the calendar. Remember that twenty-six years ago today my world came apart at the seams. Realize that Emma drew her first breath on the same day Angie drew her last.

  He should’ve, though. It made sense that Emma’s birth would coincide with Angie’s death.

  Adrian gripped the railing for support, unsure whether he should mourn Angie’s passing, the way he had for the past twenty-five years, or rejoice at her rebirth.

  “I get the feeling I just put my foot in my mouth.” Eddie’s features darkened. “I’m going to leave now. You kids go back to what you were doing.”

  “No.” Emma retreated toward the door. “Stay.” She avoided Adrian’s glance at all costs. “You two talk.” Then she disappeared in the house, leaving him alone with Eddie on the back porch.

  Adrian fought the urge to chase after her. If he’d learned anything in the short time he’d known her, it was to recognize that look on her face. The look that said, “I need some space.”

  So he stared at the rugged terrain instead, at the groves of piñon pines and wide expanses of chaparral. Tall grass shivered around the dry creeks crisscrossing the valley behind his home. When he’d built this place, he’d taken extra care to disrupt as little of nature as possible.

  The contrast between his pristine development and the untamed land around it reminded him that, sometimes, in the heart of the deepest wilderness, a speck of civilization not only existed but endured.

  “Sorry, buddy.” Dressed in a worn pair of jeans and a plaid shirt, his badge clipped to his belt, Eddie mounted the steps. “I never should’ve opened my big trap.”

  “It’s okay.” The last thing he wanted was for Eddie to beat himself up over this. “She knows.”

  The Rogue sat on the railing, his back turned to the view Adrian perused in a futile effort to distract himself. “Knows what?”

  “Who she is.”

  Eddie’s face registered surprise. “She remembered?”

  “No.” Longing fisted within Adrian, followed by a stab of regret. “I told her.”

  Eddie whistled, impressed. “How’d she take it?”

  “Better than I expected.”

  A brisk breeze blew, making the grass ripple and the trees shake. “And she doesn’t remember anything?”

  “She has flashbacks, nothing concrete. But I get the feeling those old memories are still in there somewhere.”

  Crossing his massive arms, Eddie arched two thick brows. “You think Angie’s soul wasn’t cleansed before it was reborn?”

  “It’s possible.” He exhaled heavily. “Today is Emma’s birthday. Angie died so suddenly, I’m thinking maybe there wasn’t enough time to wipe the slate clean.”

  “Then why can’t she recall her past life?”

  Adrian turned his eyes skyward, shook his head in bewilderment and frustration. “There’s some kind of wall in her mind. It’s not only blocking access to Angie’s memories, it’s keeping Emma from fully utilizing her soul.” He’d pushed against the boundaries of that wall when they’d made love yesterday, had even shaken its foundation. Maybe with a slight nudge, it would disintegrate altogether.

  “I think I might be able to tear it down,” Adrian admitted after a brief pause.

  Eddie didn’t look impressed. “Not sure that’s such a great idea.” Deep grooves bracketed his mouth, as jagged and uncompromising as the arroyos scarring the valley. “There’s a reason people don’t remember their past lives. I have a feeling the human brain isn’t built to hold more than one identity at a time.”

  What if Eddie was wrong? What if he could make Emma remember? What if he could have it all, the past and the present, wrapped in one compelling package?

  The darkness Adrian had spent decades suppressing swelled inside him, tempted him with everything he could have if he just succumbed to it.

  “Don’t do it, man.” Eddie’s voice resonated
with warning. “You have no idea what impact it’ll have on Emma. It could land her in the nuthouse.”

  “You don’t know that. Emma is strong. Haven’t you noticed how bright her essence is?” Frustration nipped at his patience. “Unlike Angie, she’s a twin soul. Yes, Angie’s in there, but there’s another part to her. A part that’s hers and hers alone. When you put the pieces together, you end up with one powerful life-force.” A life-force so formidable, it could save the world or obliterate it altogether.

  “That’s the reason the Kleptopsychs are after her.” Eddie finally clued in.

  Adrian refrained from telling him about the soul extractor or the Watchers’ plan to use Emma to wipe out their kind. Knowing Eddie, he wouldn’t take the news too well. Just as Adrian was driven by the overriding compulsion to protect Emma, Eddie was driven by the fierce desire to safeguard this community. This place, the Rogues living here, were Eddie’s entire universe, and he’d do anything to preserve what they’d built on this deserted ranch nestled in the hidden belly of the mountains.

  The cop’s next words confirmed it. “Sometimes I wish she’d never come back.”

  Adrian’s muscles stiffened, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “Don’t say that.” The darkness threatened again, bubbled and thrashed. “Ever. Understand?”

  Eddie blew out a string of air. “Look, I get what she means to you. But she messes with your head. Since she’s come back into the picture, I hardly recognize you anymore. She makes you act—”

  “Human?”

  “Yes, goddammit. And humans never think with their brains. I know. I work among them every day. I see the crazy shit they pull.” Eddie launched himself off the railing and began to stalk the porch. “Last time you thought with your heart instead of your head, the Watchers raided our community, all because you agreed to hide Marcus and Regan and that kid. And our friends paid the ultimate price. The same price Sheila and Dixon paid yesterday.”

  Guilt slammed into him. “I know you and Sheila were close. What happened yesterday, it must be eating you up—”