Soul Thing (The Game of Gods Book 1)

by Lana Pecherczyk

“Shit.” My hand flew to my neck, but touched only tender skin. I patted my soggy shirt, then touched my naked neck again. I searched the ground behind me and found the collar clasp destroyed and utterly useless. Reality hit. I’d broken the terms of my probation, only a few weeks from release. I dropped to the ground and picked up the filthy clasp. “No, no, no.” I turned the black box over, trying to figure out how I could fill it with fluid again and put it around my neck. If I couldn’t, they would arrest me. They would hate me. They would burn me. I didn’t even hear the alarm beep, I’d been too preoccupied.

  Petra drew a loud, trembling breath. She scrambled to gain her footing and stood. Her eyes rolled back to black, and she pointed at me. “She is inside you,” she wheezed. “You are my sister. I was right. You did it.” She sniffed and pierced me with her accusation. “You can’t abandon me now. I have searched for you for so long and I’ve waited—oh, how I’ve waited.”

  Everything came to me through a haze. I looked down at the clasp in my hand. It didn’t feel right—I didn’t feel right. My brain had hopped on a merry-go-round, and an electrical buzz grew around me in a swirl. The buzz seemed to come from the witch, from the crowd and from the birds in the trees. It was everywhere. I dropped the clasp and clutched my throat. I couldn’t breathe. Pure, unseen energy pushed in on me. I bent forward and braced myself on my knees, sucking in deep gulps of air. My vision doubled, then tripled, my eyes watered, and everything in front of me merged into one pulsating blur. What was happening? I could feel the world on my skin, and like a sentient being, it wanted to be felt. It was alive. It accepted me as it skipped over the hairs on my arms. I swayed forward and stumbled…

  …right into her clammy arms.

  “Let me taste you,” she said. “Give me your blood, your secrets. Blood cannot lie. I will see the truth.” Her energy reached for me, from around her body like dark, lashing tentacles. I flinched and struggled. How could I see that? Her eyes lit up, she hugged me tighter, immense strength pouring through her connection. “Perhaps we can stay in this world after all. Perhaps we don’t need to be slaves in theirs. Let me taste you and see how your body works. Oh sister, things are looking up.”

  Over my dead body.

  “No,” I tried to say, hoping the word punched through the thick vibrating air. “No,” I screamed louder.

  Suddenly, I flew backwards, slammed against the wall, and cracked my head against the limestone. Agony radiated from my skull and I groaned. The crowd screamed and ran down the steps, some retreated into the parking lot, others hovered to watch.

  My arms were splayed out next to me. I yanked but couldn’t move them. A force held me against the hard surface, like invisible manacles at my neck, wrists and ankles. Petra had somehow lifted me and held me with her will alone. I frowned. Telekinesis—I was sure of it. I’d heard it happened during the war, I’d just never seen it.

  “You always were a recalcitrant one, Kiya.” Her voice was low and gravelly and her eyes glittered with rage. She walked to the edge of the porch, never taking her eyes off me. “Why do you insist on denying me the very thing that will keep our race fueled forever?”

  “I’m not Kiya, and there is nothing left of your race.” I wheezed and blinked, the pressure at my neck spread to my entire body, so forceful it made my eyes water. “They’re all dead, and you’ll be next.”

  “There are more of us than you could ever imagine.” She pointed her crooked finger at the trees lined with crows then circled around to point at the crowd. Because I refused to take my eyes off Petra, I heard, but couldn’t see, a collective gasp from the watchers. Fucking bystanders, I thought. What happened to helping your fellow man? It’s all fine and dandy to preach kindness, but when faced with the cold hard fact of risking your safety for someone else, it was a game of musical statues.

  “The revolution is coming to each one of you,” Petra said. “No one is safe. We will accept your worthless souls as payment and you will rue the day you thought witches were the worst you had to face. Deals have been made, bargains struck. Your souls are destined to be the new world’s scapegoats.” She sniffed haughtily and looked at me as if we shared a secret. “Our souls will move outwards and onwards. But the others, they will be snuffed out. Poof”—she clapped her hands together—“annihilated.”

  I blinked. Behind her, two shadows crept from the darkness of the parking lot. I blinked again. The force I’d felt earlier, the unified pressure pushing against me, had separated into unique vibrations that came off every living thing, like an aura or life-force. People buzzed louder than trees, the witch’s unique dark sensation grew stronger, but the shadows creeping around were blank, empty, like black holes. Terror exploded in my ribs like fireworks, sending sparks of adrenaline into the rest of my body. But I couldn’t move. Stuck. What was out there? I closed my eyes, trying to center my focus and calm myself. A trickle of warmth slid down the back of my neck. Sweat or blood?

  “You need to be educated.” Petra’s words brought my gaze back to her. The hatred in her eyes mellowed, her brows lifted in the middle. “Don’t you see? We can be together forever if you would let me in. I can take us both to heaven, to paradise. We can evolve beyond this mortal coil.” Her gaze darkened again. “If you don’t let me in, I will take your body, anyway. Big sister always knows best.”

  Petra pulled one arm back and swiped the air in front of her. Pain sliced through my mid-section and I grunted. Blood oozed from my body. White-hot needles stabbed the wound and spots danced across my vision. She clicked her tongue and frowned. “I missed.” She swiped the air again. This time blood sprayed from my neck to coat the witch in a shower of red. “That’s better.” Her tongue darted out as the droplets fell on her face. She smiled and swished a mouthful like savoring a good wine. Then her expression changed to horror—disbelief. Slowly, a crooked finger rose to point at me, a smile slithered across her face. In a blink, she stood in front of me. My terror tried to escape in a scream, but came out a choked sob. Her finger touched my chest, and she leaned in close, seizing my chin and sniffing around my face.

  “I see you,” she whispered, and frowned. “I taste you, Nephilim. I don’t know how I missed it before. All this time, you were right in front of me, pretending to be something you are not.” She shook her head and stepped back. “But you were a mistake, they all said you were a reject.”

  I could breathe again. Barely. The blood leaking from my wound slowed. The pain eased. My wounds were knitting together.

  “I’m going to take you, anyway.” She opened her lips and black smoky tendrils curled from her mouth in a rolling fog—I felt the frequency of her life-force in the smoke. The wisps found my aching skin and trailed my stomach. Every time it hit a patch of blood, my skin tingled like a tongue held to a battery. The smoke prodded and probed, looking for my wounds, the opening to my insides. There were none, my skin had healed. There was no hiding it now; my freakish nature had been exposed. The smoke snapped back into her body like a rubber band and she screamed like a harpy. She smeared her fingers across my smooth skin, wiping the blood to get a clear view.

  “Why can’t I get in?”

  CHAPTER SIX

  “NOW!” A MALE voice shouted.

  Chaos erupted. Two shadows converged from the dark sides to land on Petra.

  Released from the telekinetic hold, I fell but landed on my feet. I’d lost my focus on the surrounding energy and it merged into one force pushing down on me. What the hell was happening? I dipped my head, hanging onto the sounds of the struggle in front of me, hoping for clarity. Scuffles, grunts and harpy screams pounded against the rhythm of my pulse.

  I clutched my stomach and touched my neck. Although healed, pain lingered at the wound site as new skin pulled tight. My vision cleared but anger bubbled beneath the surface. My fingertips burned.

  The crowd’s protests grew louder, matching the roaring in my ears. Living, pulsing energy thrummed against my body. I couldn’t take it anymore.

  I let
it in.

  My eyes bulged, muscles contracted, and I thought I would snap. I’d swallowed an electric bomb, the current zinged through my body, whizzing, bouncing, trying to find an out.

  Holy shit!

  My head jerked up and my hands flew out to point at Petra as I scrambled down the porch, stumbling like a drunk. If I was going to explode, I’d damn well do it all over her. Three shadows struggled together and I couldn’t see a clear path to the witch. Who were the other two? Initially, I’d felt terror at the black holes, but now I could see they were people. I didn’t want to hurt someone I cared about and tried to hold back. But it was too late. The energy ripped through my body and out my fingertips, heading straight for the group.

  Oh, no! Cash and Tommy. I screamed and closed my eyes, unable to watch.

  Like a pressure cooker blowing off steam, the heaviness inside me lightened.

  Silence. Then, sirens wailed in the distance, and I didn’t know whether to be relieved or scared. I kept my eyes squeezed shut. If I didn’t see, it didn’t happen.

  “Open your eyes, Roo,” Tommy said, breathing hard. “Are you okay?” His trembling hands tightened on my shoulders. “Probie, we got her. It’s okay.”

  “But I...” I studied his face for evidence of what I’d just done—the explosion. He shushed and stepped between me and an idiot filming on his smart phone. I cocked my head and inspected Tommy with my new energy sense. He was definitely one of the black holes. I couldn’t feel him like I could feel the energy humming off the crowd, or the witch, or the world behind us. I looked at the pair thrashing about on the floor; Cash had pinned Petra to the ground, his biceps bulged with strain but his face was flat, unreadable. I couldn’t sense his energy either.

  Who are they? What are they?

  A crescendo of squawks and screeches came from the sky as blue and red lights flooded the parking lot. The police had arrived. I stumbled back to see hundreds of swarming black splotches against the night sky. Crows. They flew towards us. The witch cackled from where Cash had her pinned and pain contracted through my mid-section, a reminder of her attack.

  Petra looked me in the eye. “This is not over, sister. I will come for you. We will draw our last breath on this earth together. I’m not giving up.”

  Then the sky fell. Birds dropped and swooped, using their bodies as missiles and aiming at Petra’s enemies—Cash, Tommy and myself.

  “No!” Cash roared. “Somebody find me a—” His words were lost in the black, screeching turmoil of feathers. I threw my hands up to shield my face and Tommy threw his body in front of mine. He dropped to one knee and put a hand against the wall on either side of me, leaving his back exposed to the deafening murder. We were in the grip of a hurricane of feathers, beaks and cacophony.

  When the noise eventually abated, we were petrified in place, breathing hard. The smell of sweat, dirt and blood singed my nostrils. Tommy didn’t move.

  “Tommy,” I said and nudged.

  A moan escaped from his mouth and I tried to stand, but couldn’t free my limbs.

  “Tommy, you need to get out of the way. I’m stuck.”

  He finally shifted back and sank to his knees. Concerned, I reached out to touch him.

  “I’m okay,” he said, avoiding my touch.

  He didn’t look okay. I stood up, and he tried too, but ended in a half slouch, hands on knees. I peeked over his shoulder; bright red blood stained the back of his white t-shirt.

  “Shit, Tommy, you’re bleeding.” I touched his shoulder. Tiny lacerations across his back seeped blood.

  I started to assess the damage but Cash charged over. “She’s gone.” He grabbed Tommy roughly, lifting him by the shoulders and spun him around. “Did you see where she went?” he growled and shook his brother.

  Couldn’t he see the kid was injured?

  “Tommy! I told you to secure the perimeter,” he shouted, searching his face for answers. He glanced at me. “Where did she go?”

  I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Tommy eyed him off in a daze. “Whoa, that was my first witch, bro. That’s what you deal with every day? Whoa.”

  “The witch, Tommy, focus—did you see which way she went?”

  “No wonder Ma wanted me to come with you. You’ve got your priorities wrong. That shit is nasty, you gotta—”

  “Fuck it, Tommy.” Cash shook him again.

  “Hey!” I shoved Cash away. He grunted, stepped back and looked at me, wide eyed. “Can’t you see he’s hurt?”

  Cash jabbed a finger in my face. “You and I need to talk.”

  “About the witch? I don’t know where she went. I’m more concerned about my sister.” I stood on tiptoes to peek over his shoulder. My sister lay motionless in the dirt behind him. “Leila... Leila.” I moved to join her but Cash held me back by the shoulder.

  “There’s nothing you can do for her,” he said.

  More curious spectators, finally thinking it safe enough, filed through the door. Questions fired at us. Cash kept one hand on me and the other rose to stop the crowd. “Stay back,” he called.

  They screamed accusations.

  “She’s a witch!”

  “Somebody hold her down!”

  “Burn her.”

  I glared at the traitors I’d served drinks to all night, now calling for my head.

  “You’re coming with me,” Cash growled into my ear and hauled me away.

  “Is she alive?” I asked and waved in my sister’s direction, tripping over my feet as I tried to keep up with him.

  No answer. Just air blowing from his nostrils and tendons bulging in his jaw as we neared the access path to the beach.

  “Babe!” Kitty pushed through the crowd and tried to follow but Cash barked at her to stay put. She and Tommy had to guard Leila’s body before the paramedics arrived in case the crowd did something. The command in his voice could only come from the experience of managing others, and the methodical way he moved projected lethal confidence. Well, I was never good with authority.

  I yanked my arm away and stepped toward my friend. “Kitty!” I cried.

  “We don’t have time for this.” Cash scooped me up and threw me over his shoulder like a rag doll.

  I slammed my fists into his back. “Hey! Let me go!”

  He stomped to the beach path with me thrashing about and pounding my fists. We were halfway down the path when he put me down on the sandy concrete steps. The light from the parking lot barely hit our faces.

  “You need to quit playing games,” he snapped. “Show me your markings.” He grabbed my shirt and lifted.

  “You fucking pervert!” I slapped him away and tried to run, but he cinched my wrists and held me close.

  “What? No. I’m not a pervert. Just tell me who you work with.”

  “Let go of me.” I spat the words through gritted teeth.

  “If you don’t tell the truth, I’ll make you.”

  We faced off, inches from each other, fire in our eyes.

  I squinted mine, he narrowed his.

  He didn’t let go.

  “I told you before. I don’t have any tattoos so whatever you’re thinking is wrong. Just let me go see my sister and friend.”

  “I’m never wrong.”

  “Gah!” I closed my eyes and focused on the atmosphere. Apart from the waves and his breathing, it was quiet. The buzz from the crowd had diluted with distance, which reminded me I couldn’t feel Cash either. He was invisible like his brother, and that, I didn’t trust. I didn’t know what was happening to me, but I knew I needed to trust my instincts. I opened my eyes to see him standing there, flesh and blood.

  He studied me right back with dark, suspicious eyes.

  “You’re invisible,” I said. “I can’t feel you like the others.”

  “I am a hunter. Wait, you can’t feel me? You mean an aura, or something?” He let go and stepped back. He folded his arms across his chest as a male does when trying to assert his strength.

  “I... Oh.” I
realized my mistake. “Fuck.” My cheeks burned, and I stared at my shadowed feet. I’d just admitted I was different. After a moment I said half-heartedly, “I’m not a witch. And what the hell do I care what you hunt?”

  “Well, you should care. Word usually gets around to someone of your talents.” He cocked an eyebrow. “I’m impervious to witchcraft, among other things.”

  “Someone of my talents?” I scoffed. I knew what he meant. “If you’re so great, why haven’t I heard of you before?”

  He shrugged. “There’s really only one of us as far as I know.”

  “What does ‘really’ mean?” I used my fingers to mimic quotation marks. “Tommy’s a hunter, too, isn’t he?”

  He frowned and narrowed his eyes, creating dark chasms where they used to be. “He is? How do you know that?”

  “Because ... I do.”

  “Right. We don’t have time for games. The police are here. If you tell me who you’re aligned with, I might be able to help.” He leaned in closer, sniffed the air and lowered his tone. “What are you?”

  “None of your business, that’s what I am.”

  He made a grab for me but I flinched and stumbled. I flailed my arms like a windmill. I wasn’t ready to die, and that’s exactly what would happen if I fell down the concrete steps to the beach below. Cash grabbed my shredded shirt. In one swift motion, his other arm slipped behind my back and pulled me in close. He smelled like dirt and blood. His fingers stabbed into my hair and yanked painfully until my neck was exposed. Fear paralyzed my body. Yikes, he was strong. Play dead. Play dead. But surely he would hear my pounding heart. I tensed as he leaned in until his nose touched the skin beneath my ear. He inhaled deeply and damned if my body didn’t melt into his.

  The tension fled from his body and he straightened, holding me at arm’s length. His confused expression was so comical I almost burst out laughing. But instinct told me the danger hadn’t passed. His fingers were suddenly on my eyelids, pulling them apart by the lashes and then they were in my mouth, inspecting my teeth.

  “I’m not a bloody horse,” I garbled and swatted his hands.