Reaver of Souls

by Stephanie Burke

  “No, nothing like that Jack, and tell Jill that I hear him in the background.” She sighed again. “I just need a little help and I will explain as soon as you get here. And you are the only man I know who is about his size.”

  “A big bruiser, then,” he said. “I’ll be right over, love. And I expect a decent explanation for this one.”

  “Thanks, Jack,” she breathed, feeling in control again, at least for the moment. “I really owe you one.”

  “You owe me nothing, love. Just keep pushing out those sculptures and I will forgive you just about anything.”

  She was laughing as she hung up the phone on Jill’s ridiculous questions and accusations. Jill could always make her laugh, no matter what.

  “Now, for you, Torn.” she said as she turned to face her very own Faeroe.

  He looked up at the sound of his name. He had been contemplating the magic this Sable possessed. A magic that he could not fathom. He felt no traces of it in the air, and yet she had been talking into a rounded rock thing and again when the voice answered.

  He probed as best as he could, but could detect no evil intent. Was she truly from a magic realm, a different realm than his own, but still magical? Would his powers even work here?

  “I think we need to get some basics down, Torn. So that you won’t make the same mistakes that you made with me. Jack and Jill are okay guys, but very protective. So let’s say we begin with…body parts. Yes. That should be easy enough.”

  Torn nodded as if he understood every word she said, but in truth he only recognized his name. This constantly being at a disadvantage was really starting to bother him. Maybe he had a spell that could fix this language problem, but he doubted that it would work, and he wouldn’t risk it until he knew what type of magic she possessed.

  But she was pointing to something now, something on her face. Her nose.

  “Kopa,” he responded, giving her the word.

  “Nose,” she returned, looking at him hopefully.

  So it was to be another language lesson. Okay, this he could deal with. “Nose,” he responded, answer rewarded with a brilliant smile.

  “He understands!” she crowed, then pointed to her lips, saying the word slowly.

  “Lips,” he repeated, flicking his tongue over his fangs a bit. “Lips.”

  “Very good,” she said breathlessly, sighing as she looked into his intent purple eyes. Purple was her favorite color. Why did her Faeroe have to have purple eyes?

  “Eyes,” she said, pointing to hers.

  “Eyes,” he repeated, for the first time noticing how her eyes seemed to glow with an inner beauty. What beautiful orbs, he thought. “Eyes.”

  “Ears,” she said, noticing again the point to his. They were rather attractive, she thought. And they fit his purple eyes perfectly.

  “Ears,” he repeated, fighting against a blush.

  Her ears had no telltale points, but she had to possess some magic. His ears were a dead giveaway and he used to hate everything about them because they declared to the world that he was a mixed breed. But she seemed rather fascinated by them and in no way repulsed.

  “Hair,” she said, tugging at a short lock of her own.

  “Hair,” he quickly returned, easily committing the word to memory.

  “Chest,” she said, tapping his chest with gentle fingers that were not caressing, no matter what her brain commanded of her. Even if his flesh was soft to the touch, and yet so well-muscled and broad. Oh, hard, berry-colored nipples, she thought. Would they get harder if her fingers slipped and…?

  “Chest,” he returned, placing his palm against her right breast, then shaking his head. “Neyt chest!”

  His was definitely different than hers, he decided. And there had to be a different name for them.

  “Br-breast,” she managed, sucking in a deep breath as the heat from his body caused her nipple to begin to stiffen.

  “Breast?” he asked, feeling her reaction. “Breast.”

  He felt a stirring in his cock and curiously looked down as sudden warmth began to rush through his back and thighs as his hand, still cupping her breast, felt her reaction.

  “Uh, Torn?” she squeaked.

  He quickly brought his gaze up to hers, wondering if she noticed his swelling in his…who knew what they called it here!

  “Off!” she gasped, pointing to his hand. “Off.”

  With a grin, he removed his hand and grasped the hem of her tunic. She said off. Off he understood.

  “No!” Sable gasped as she took a step back, her face flushing in embarrassment, ‘cause for a second she would have let him bare her to his gaze. “Hands off.”

  Nodding, he dropped his hand to his lap, wanting to know what she would call a hardening prick.

  “Neyt naked?” he asked, pointing to his crotch.

  “No,” she returned, recognizing his word for no. “Penis.”

  Oh lordy, she thought. A fat piece of man meat that was swelling and tenting out the towel. He looked rather…substantial.

  “Penis,” he breathed still looking down.

  Then suddenly, there was a knock at the door that caused them both to jump.

  In a flash, she raced for it, to open the front door as fast as her feet could carry her. It had to be Jack and Jill. Please, she silently prayed, let it be Jack and Jill.

  Peeking through the peephole, she smiled, relieved that it was her saviors, and just in the nick of time, too! Before she did something stupid, like dropping to her knees and measuring his length with her throat!

  Smiling a manic smile, she ushered the two men in from the rain.

  “Jack, Jill!” she called out, receiving a hug from the big, tall, black American as he swooped down on her.

  “Let her down, Jack, so that she can bloody well share the wealth!” the second man called, pulling her out of the first man’s arms and placing a smacking kiss upon her cheek.

  “Jillian!” she laughed, returning the kiss in kind. “You are as cute as ever!”

  She took in his long, silver-streaked, black hair and his robust form breezed in wearing his customary leather.

  “What about me?” Jack asked in his deep bass tone.

  Sable pulled away from Jill to examine Jack from head to toe. As usual, the tall, muscular giant was dressed in his almost too tight, blue denim jeans and his long brown duster.

  His bald head gleamed in the light from the room accenting the strength hidden beneath his toffee-colored skin.

  “Gorgeous, simply gorgeous.” She smiled up at him, recognizing him not only as a fellow biker, a gallery owner who sold her pieces for thousands upon thousands, but also as one of the best friends she had ever had.

  “And for your friend?” he asked, looking over her shoulder.

  Sable turned to see Torn standing there, not exactly aggressive, but protective.

  Torn had noticed the affectionate greeting shared between the two men and his Sable, but he stood by, just in case. These days, it didn’t pay to be too careful. Anyone could turn on you at a moment’s notice, he thought darkly. He was living proof of that.

  “Torn,” Sable called as she gestured to him. “Come.”

  He took two cautious steps forward, his head tilted automatically scanning them for evil intent.

  “Jack, Jillian, I would like to introduce you to Torn.”

  She nodded in his direction.

  As Torn stepped forward, the towel slipped, puddling into a soft heap at his feet.

  He looked down as the two men gasped, and Sable covered her eyes in abject misery. Nothing could get worse than this.

  “Penis,” Torn said, looking down at his semi-erect manhood that rested slightly against his thigh.

  “Oh, yes it is!” Jill gasped, rubbing his fists into his eyes as he observed the longhaired stranger’s proportions. “And it can’t be real.”

  “Who is this guy, Sable?” Jack asked, looking concerned when Torn made no move to cover himself, and Jill kept gawking.


  “Ah, he doesn’t speak any English.” Then to Torn, “Towel, please.”

  Shrugging, he bent at the waist and snagged the errant piece of material, slowly wrapping it around his waist as Sable had done.

  These men were interesting, Torn thought as he kept a careful eye on them while he secured the towel.

  The tall, dark-skinned man was about his size if a bit smaller and looked a bit defensive, but the dark-haired, pale-skinned one just stared.

  His breeding must show, Torn thought as he automatically halted the hand that lifted towards his ears. But he could discern no disgust from the men, just a strong curiosity and a touch of wariness.

  “Sable?” Jack asked, glowering at his charge and friend for many years.

  “Well, he’s my Faeroe,” she sighed, even though she thought that Jack would want to commit her.

  “Fairy?” Jack asked, an incredulous expression on his face.

  “As if we weren’t enough fairy in her life,” Jill laughed, “she had to go and import more of us.”

  Chapter Five

  Torn tilted his head as he observed the two men. They were also very short, the darker skinned one his height, but the dark-haired one was so short, he was almost the same height as Sable. Was there blood from the Magic Realms coursing through his veins as well?

  “He’s a real fairy, Jill!” Sable insisted as she gestured to Torn. “As in warrior from under the hill. Just look at those eyes! And wait until you see his ears!”

  “If they look as good as the rest of the package,” Jill laughed, “I’m petitioning for a threesome!”

  “Jillian!” Sable wailed, blushing at his words, because she knew what the rest of the package looked like. “Behave!”

  “At least until we can get to the bottom of this,” Jack added as he took a really good look at the near-naked man who stood in Sable’s living room , a look of curiosity on his face as he watched them. “Well, he’s one big mother, I’ll give you that.”

  “The clothes, Jack,” Sable pleaded. “He can’t go around naked.”

  “Naked?” Torn asked. He was seriously beginning to doubt that he would ever understand the meaning of the word naked, but he didn’t think it meant his manhood.

  He sighed in true regret that his leathers were so utterly and completely destroyed. He would like to have some sort of covering while speaking with these two men.

  While nudity was totally normal in the Magic Realms and inside one’s own castle, when meeting strangers it was always considered good taste to wear clothing.

  He may be short of stature, but he wasn’t…short in other areas.

  Some men felt particularly jealous and insignificant in that area, especially since “the half-breed” was built longer and thicker. He didn’t want to start out making enemies of Sable’s friends.

  “NO, uh Neyt!” Sable cried, shaking her head rapidly. “Keep that towel on, Torn.”

  Torn nodded. He actually almost understood that. Keep the towel and no manhood displays.

  Sable sighed in relief and turned pleading eyes to Jack. “Please tell me you found something that can fit him?”

  “I brought sweats,” Jack said, a half smile breaking out on his face. “I just do not share my undies, so he’ll have to go and get his own, but the sweats should fit him. He’s a bit taller than me, but we are about equal in the shoulders.”

  “And what lovely shoulders they are,” Jillian piped in, grinning up at Jack. “And I was referring to yours, so don’t get your drawers in a bunch.”

  Sable dropped her head a bit as she tried to hide a chuckle.

  Of the two men, Jillian was notoriously jealous of any man or woman who stared too long at his partner. She once had to stop him from dumping a sundae on the head of a woman who wouldn’t take no for an answer as she leered at Jack. He settled for slapping the most passionate kiss ever on Jack’s unsuspecting lips before everyone at the ice cream parlor. It had shocked and scared the woman away, and gave Sable insight into how possessive and crazy in love Jill really was with Jack.

  And Jack? He took it all in stride, calmly reassuring the man that he loved him, that he wanted him, and only him. Sable had great respect for them both, for Jill’s ability to stand up for what he believed, and Jack’s calming and reassuring manner. They grounded each other.

  “Well, here are the clothes,” Jack said, handing a large leather satchel to Sable.

  “Pretty fancy bag,” Sable laughed as she took the bag from him.

  “Paper bags would have clashed,” he chuckled before turning again to face Torn. “Fairy, huh?”

  Torn cocked his head to the side and blinked slowly at Jack, his purple eyes lightening to a pale shade of lavender.

  “I have never seen contacts do that,” Jill breathed as he took a step forward. “What about the ears?”

  “Ears?” Torn asked as a blush filled his face.

  “Oh, this is getting good,” Jillian said, a sly look on his face. “What do his ears look like?”

  With a sigh, Torn tilted his head to the side and brushed his long, curly locks to the side. He may as well get it over with. These men would find out that he was a half-breed, and then he would have to find some way of ignoring the un-translated taunts and laughter that he was sure to follow. He felt too vulnerable, too alone in this funny place where water fell from the sky and women rode around on wheeled metal steeds. He just hoped that he could maintain a calm dignity while defending himself, and could control the urge to change.

  “They’re pointy!” Jill exclaimed as he took a step closer to Torn.

  Torn, noting his movement took a step back, bracing himself for an attack.

  “Why is he doing that?” Jill asked as he watched Torn’s eyes turn a murky angry purple color.

  “Torn?” Sable asked as she reached out and touched his arm.

  Torn jerked as if struck at her touch, but instantly calmed when he saw who it was, Sable.

  “Torn,” Jill said calmly, noting how tense Jack had become. “Come here, please.”

  Torn tilted his head, reading the man and finding no hostility there at all. Just a growing curiosity, but he had to be closer to be sure, maybe even touching him. Men were so hard to read.

  He took that step closer to Jill, and was not surprised when the man reached out and gripped his wrist. Now was his chance.

  As Jill’s hand tightened, Torn sent out a searching spear of energy from his body into the air around the dark-haired man.

  Sable gasped as a bright purple light flashed out and enclosed around Jill and Torn, snaked around their bodies, starting at their feet, and quickly circling around to their heads. Torn’s hair flew wildly around them and Jill’s straight hair stood on end.

  “What the hell?” Jack cried out as he took a step forward, intent on separating Jill from the glowing man.

  Yet when he touched the glowing energy that surrounded them, he froze in place for a second, and then was thrown back into the front door.

  “Jack!” Sable screamed as she looked from the fallen man to the glowing pair. Who needed her help the most?

  Before she could move to jump on Torn’s back, it was the only thing that she could think of to stop him, Jill began to laugh.

  Jack pulled himself to his feet and watched, amazed, as Jillian began to laugh so hard, tears ran down his face.

  The glow began to ease, and in a blink, it was gone as if it had never been.

  Jill stepped closer to Torn and reached up to push his hair to the side. He exposed Torn’s pointy ear, and Torn just stood there, calm and unmoving.

  “Hey, this guy really is a Faeroe,” he said as he carefully examined Torn’s ear, reaching up to run a gentle finger over the pointed tip.

  “Are you okay, Jill?” Jack asked lowly as he cautiously moved closer to his friend and lover. “Are you hurt?”

  Sable stood in her place, stunned. It had all happened so fast, yet here was Torn allowing Jill to touch his ears and Jill was grinning like a loon.


  “I am fine, I feel fine!” he said cheerfully as he stepped back from Torn and smiled at Jack.

  “Then what happened?” he demanded, one eye still on Torn as he spoke to Jill.

  “He kind of checked me out, I guess,” Jill grinned. “And you know what? Suddenly I feel as if the weight of the world has been lifted off of my shoulders.”

  With a smile, he stepped back, and looked into Torn’s solemn eyes. There was a wealth of understanding there and that made Jill almost cry with joy.

  “Checked you out?” Jack asked, cautiously still keeping his attack stance. Jack had had extensive training in the martial arts and it showed in his graceful movements. He had been taken by surprise by that. Whatever it was that tossed him across the room, he would not be making that same mistake twice.

  “Come on, big guy.” Jill urged. “Shake hands with him. I swear that nothing bad will happen and you will really love it.”

  Torn stood and watched the interplay between the two men. He wished with all of his heart that he could understand what they were saying, but their body language gave enough of their thoughts away so that he could understand what was going on.

  The taller, dark-skinned man was concerned about his friend. Usually, Torn would not have been so graphic in the physical reading, but he was tired, confused, and uneasy. That little show of power was designed to put some distance between the two, before they could hurt him with their accusing eyes and stinging words when they found out about his heritage.

  But in checking over the dark-haired man, he had found something extraordinary. Emotions the like he had never felt before swamped over him, and before he could help it, the urge to cleanse this man’s soul of pain and suffering overwhelmed him.

  Almost without a warning, his powers had leapt free, encircling the two of them, taking a painful scar away from this man, and transferring it to Torn instead, freeing a trapped portion of that man’s soul.

  Being a misfit and misunderstood was universal, he decided. The impotent rage and fear this man carried was almost as strong as his own.

  He understood being an outcast, being hated, or even worse, ignored, because of what you are. This man had to have had similar experiences in his background for the soul-deep scars to be that deep. It was almost a pleasure to give freedom to his soul, a gentle soul that had been battered and torn so many times that if the scarring continued, its very existence would have been threatened.