Soul Screamers Volume Four: With All My SoulFearlessNiederwaldLast Request: 4

by Rachel Vincent

  I materialized in my father’s empty bedroom and fell to my knees on the floor, crying uncontrollably. Sobbing so hard my whole body shook. Tears poured down my face. I clutched my chest, desperate to ease an ache unlike anything I’d ever felt. My sternum hurt like my heart had been ripped from my body, leaving behind an empty, gaping cavity.

  I don’t know how long I stayed like that, hunched over on the floor, shaking and sniffling and broken in more ways than I’d known a person could be broken. I stayed there until I had no more tears to cry. Until I had no other choice but to stand up, and grow up, and give up the only thing that would finally put my friends and family out of evil’s reach.

  My soul.

  Nash and Sabine were curled up on Emma’s twin bed, fully clothed for once. Holding each other.

  The living room was quiet, so I peeked in to find Sophie and Luca asleep on the couch, together, and Em passed out in the recliner. Then I went back into my dad’s room and closed the door. I sat on his bed and picked up the notepad on his nightstand, then dug through the drawer for a pen, my jaw clenched against any more tears.

  The note to my father was the hardest. It took a long time. More time than I could afford. More time than he could afford.

  The note to my friends wasn’t much easier, but the words were flowing by then.

  The third note was the most important. The words were critical; they had to be just right.

  When I was done, I folded the pages and wrote their names on the outside.

  I left the first two notes on my dad’s nightstand where—with any luck—they wouldn’t be discovered until after Levi had played his part.

  The third note, I folded and slid into my back pocket while I watched them sleep, the friends and family I’d put through hell just by virtue of their connection to me.

  Then I closed my damp eyes and blinked out of their lives.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The school cafeteria was somehow even creepier than I’d remembered. Maybe because my errand was creepier this time. Or maybe because I was breaking a promise to people I loved. Or maybe because I knew that even if I got what I wanted out of this midnight errand, I wouldn’t really be getting what I wanted.

  There was no way for me to win this game. I’d lost the moment I started playing.

  In the massive, stainless-steel kitchen, I pulled a small knife from a now-familiar drawer, then sat cross-legged on the floor in a pool of moonlight shining through the window. I peeled the bandage from my left palm. Explaining another cut wouldn’t be a problem this time, so I sliced my skin open again. I gasped at the raw pain—still couldn’t get used to that—and a line of dark red blood welled parallel to the one scabbed over half an inch away.

  This time, I let the blood pool in my cupped palm, and with the knife on the floor at my side, I dipped my right index finger into my own blood and wrote Ira’s name on the dingy linoleum tiles. Then I sucked in a deep breath and tried to purge my fear while preserving my anger, which Ira would want to taste.

  I had no problem with the anger part. Letting go of my fear was much harder.

  I stared at the three letters on the floor, glistening dark, dark red in the moonlight. And for a second, I thought about backing out. Then I closed my eyes and whispered Ira’s name into the night.

  My eyes opened, and a second later the hellion appeared in front of me, mirroring my cross-legged pose, staring across his own name at me. “Ms. Cavanaugh.” On his tongue, my name sounded like the clash of swords, wielded in timeless fury.

  “To what do I owe the pleasure?” he continued while I struggled to focus through the anger emanating from him, settling into my bones. Into my hands that wanted to form fists. Or to pick up the knife.

  “You owe this pleasure to Avari, but I’d rather reverse the charges so that he owes you. And I think I know how to make that happen.”

  His dark brows rose. They were the color of my blood slowly drying on the floor and now dripping from between my fingers. “I’m intrigued....”

  “So there’s no misunderstanding, I have a proposal. I’m here to make a deal.”

  He nodded. “Of course you are. State your terms—first, what you need from me, then, how you’re willing to pay. But you should know that tonight you reek of fear and sadness, as much as anger, and while I can and will feed from both of those emotions, they do not command as high a price as your rage.”

  “Acknowledged.” It scared me even more to realize that I was picking up the lingo. “But if you agree to my terms, there will be plenty of anger for you—and it won’t just be mine.”

  Another arch of a single dark red brow. “Do continue.”

  “My first demand—” I’d considered calling them requests, but because they were nonnegotiable, “demand” felt more accurate “—is that you deliver my uncle and Harmony Hudson to the human world without inflicting any further harm on them, and that you make no attempt to contact them or to reacquire them for the duration of our agreement.”

  “You’re assuming I know where they are?”

  “I am.” I nodded firmly and tried not to notice that blood was still pooling in my palm. “I’m further assuming that you have them in your possession. That maybe you’ve had them since shortly after Tod and I found bloody bandages in the Netherworld version of the local hospital.”

  “Clever girl...” Ira smiled, clearly delighted, and I had to remind myself that his approval meant less than nothing to me. “How did you know?”

  “I know from experience that Avari is powerful and his resources are vast. Yet he doesn’t have them. The only reason I can think of for him not to have found them is that you found them first.”

  “Or they’re dead.” He watched closely for my reaction.

  “If they were dead and Avari knew about it, he would have told me, just to feed from my suffering. You, however, understand that I suffer just as much—if not more—by not knowing where they are or what shape they’re in. And you’re not shortsighted enough to kill them before you’ve gotten all possible use out of them as living hostages. Right?”

  Please, please let me be right....

  “So far, so good,” he said, and again I was surprised by his vernacular speech. Was anger that much closer to the general heart of humanity than envy? I didn’t want to think about what that said about us as a species.

  “My second demand—”

  “Can you pay for a second demand?” Ira said. “I’m not sure you truly understand the debt your first request has already accrued.”

  I might not know what he’d want as payment, but I knew what I was willing to give. And that was all that mattered.

  “My second demand,” I continued, without acknowledging his warning, “is that for the duration of our arrangement, you will protect my friends and family.” He started to object, and the first spark of anger I’d seen from him flashed in his dark eyes. “Specifically,” I said, talking over him. “Specifically, all of my blood relatives, as well as Emma Marshall, in any body her soul inhabits, Sabine Campbell, Luca Tedesco, and Harmony, Nash, and Tod Hudson.” I couldn’t risk him deciding on his own that any one of them wasn’t a close enough friend to warrant protecting.

  “You want me to protect them? You do understand that you’re dealing with a hellion, right? Not a guardian angel.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m willing to pay.”

  His eyes flashed again. “Child, it would take years of you existing in a constant state of homicidal fury to pay off a debt like that.”

  “I know.” But I wouldn’t be the only one paying.

  “Well then...is there anything else on this fantasy list of demands from a child who’s obviously grown too big for her mortal britches?”

  “Just one more thing....”

  As I outlined my last demand—the most selfish of them all—his eyes widened in surprise and delight like I’d never seen before from a hellion. The more excited he grew, the more unnerved I became, in part because a hellion’s joy is
never pleasant to witness. But also because it was my pain, fear, and anger putting that creepy, dried-blood smile on his face, and that was one of the scariest facts I’d ever contemplated.

  When I was finished, Ira stared at me in obvious anticipation. “I must admit, I am intrigued by your devious, clever little mind.” Then he licked his lips with a dark, dark tongue. “Now, let’s discuss payment.”

  I took another deep breath and clenched my hands into fists to keep them from visibly shaking, though he could probably taste everything I was feeling on the air, whether or not I let it show. Blood dripped between the fingers of my left hand, and the fresh cut throbbed. “You’ll get a partial payment up front, and even more over the course of our arrangement. Years of pain, fear, and the resulting homicidal rage, just like you said. Then, the bulk will be paid by a third party, when you’ve upheld the last part of our deal.”

  “The bulk?”

  I nodded. “Pure, concentrated wrath. Way more of it than any mortal body could ever contain. Are you familiar with the term ‘mother lode’? Do hellions say that? Because that’s what I’m talking about here. The biggest payoff of your immortal existence.”

  “That’s an impressive offer.” Ira frowned at me, and I realized he was trying to smell a lie. “How do you intend to produce such a payment?”

  “I find your skepticism insulting,” I said, and he actually chuckled. “If you come through on your end, I’ll come through on mine.” In fact, one was contingent on the other. “Okay?”

  The hellion nodded slowly. “The delivery schedule is understood and agreed to. Now, for the up-front part of the payment.” His eyes glittered with perverse pleasure, and it took all of my self-control to keep from gagging. “What did you have in mind?”

  I dipped my right index finger into the blood still pooled in my left palm, then reached out to trace his lower lip. “There will be much, much more, but it starts with another kiss....”

  * * *

  By the time I crossed into the Netherworld, dried blood had crusted on my lips and around my mouth. Ira was not a neat kisser.

  That thought—and the fact that I had reason to think it—nearly made me lose what little I’d eaten since lunch the day before. My jaw ached and my tongue throbbed from being bitten, and I wasn’t sure I’d ever get the taste of my own blood out of my mouth. Not to mention the taste of hellion.

  I scrubbed my mouth with the tail of my shirt as we walked, but since I had no mirror, I couldn’t be sure I’d gotten all the blood off.

  The hospital rose in front of us, and we veered slowly toward the mental health unit across the parking lot from the main building. I stepped carefully to avoid baby creeper vines reaching for me from cracks in the concrete—they had crossed over from the human world, thanks to the steady human traffic on our side of the barrier. Ira let me set the pace, and I wasn’t sure why until he spoke.

  “I would tell you not to worry, little fury, except that I’ve grown to enjoy the taste of your fear.”

  I had nothing to say to that.

  Lakeside looked extra-creepy in the red-tinted Netherworld moonlight, and our stunted shadows, splayed out on the sidewalk in front of us, bore little resemblance to our actual bodies. His even seemed to have an extra limb in my peripheral vision.

  Things skittered in the high grass on either side of the walkway, and my instinct was to shy away from sounds I couldn’t identify. But Ira had already promised me a safe escort as part of his side of the deal we’d struck. Nothing would mess with me for the next few minutes.

  After that, all bets were off.

  I wanted to threaten him with the consequences of going back on his word, just to reassure myself, but there were no consequences, which was just as well, because he couldn’t go back on his word. That was the best thing about a hellion’s inability to lie.

  However, just because he couldn’t back out didn’t mean everything would go as I’d planned. If there was something I’d missed—something I’d failed to stipulate or make him agree to—the whole thing would fall apart around me. And I wouldn’t be the only one to suffer for it.

  “Ready, little fury?” Ira asked, and his words sent waves of anger rolling through me, a fan stoking flames of a rage I’d almost forgotten I’d left burning.

  “I will never be ready for this,” I whispered, and he stared down into my eyes, as near as I could tell, considering that his had no pupils or irises.

  “But you will do it anyway. That’s why he wants you. That selflessness is contrary to everything he is and everything he will ever be. He can’t understand you, but he will try, and that process will not be pleasant for you.”

  “But it will be pleasant for you.” As part of our deal. And it would be pleasant for Avari, because I’d found no way around that.

  “Well then, shall we?”

  I nodded again, and Ira looked up at the building in front of us. “Avarice!” He didn’t shout, but his voice was so loud it rang in my bones, a sensation like the residual ache after a blow from a blunt object. “Come out and claim your prize.”

  For several seconds, nothing happened, and Ira leaned down—way down—to stage-whisper to me, an intoxicated smile forming on dark lips still smeared with my blood. “He’s here, and he’s thoroughly enraged. How delightful!”

  “Ire.” Avari appeared several feet in front of Lakeside’s main entrance, a double set of glass doors that had both been shattered long ago, judging by the glass already ground into sand on the steps. “I did not realize you were making deliveries.”

  “Anything, for the right price. Just like you.”

  Avari’s brows furrowed. “You and I have reached no agreement—I acknowledge no debt for this delivery.”

  “My agreement is with Ms. Cavanaugh. She is here under my escort and protection until she surrenders to your possession or returns to the human world.”

  “She paid you to deliver her to me?” Avari demanded, and even I could hear the anger and greed dripping from his words. “How? At what price?”

  “She is paying for my protection until she surrenders—if she surrenders. The price is beyond your concern.”

  “And none of your damn business,” I added, thoroughly enjoying the angry lines that formed around his jaw and the brief moment during which he was obviously too pissed off to speak. “Let’s get on with it. You agreed to send my father back if I surrender. I’m here. Go get my dad. Now.”

  Avari hesitated just long enough to demonstrate that he wasn’t taking orders from me; he was merely sticking to the deal he’d offered. Then, without looking away from me or raising his voice, he said, “Ladies...”

  Belphegore and Invidia appeared behind him on the steps, each gripping one of my father’s arms as he sagged, unconscious, between them. Pulverized glass crunched beneath their feet, and the toes of my father’s shoes dragged twin paths through it.

  “Is he okay?” I didn’t bother to screen fear from my voice—Avari already knew I loved my father.

  “He yet lives and is not beyond repair.”

  “Where are the others?” Invidia tossed her hair—an ever-flowing stream of molten envy—over one shoulder. Drops of it splattered around her, burning tiny holes in her dress and sizzling like acid on the steps.

  “They will come for her, and when they do, you may each take one of your choosing. As per our arrangement.”

  I could see how much the words hurt Avari to say. The hellion of greed didn’t like to share his toys, but if he’d given Invidia and Belphegore his word, in exchange for their help, he couldn’t go back on it.

  “You won’t even get a shot at them,” I said, and Avari laughed.

  “I may not understand emotions like love and compassion, but I can anticipate their results, little bean sidhe. Human heartstrings function like a marionette’s strings if properly manipulated. They will come for you because they value your company. Just like you came for your father.”

  Leave it to a hellion to define love as “valuin
g” someone’s company.

  As for his actual point...

  “Ms. Cavanaugh’s friends and family are under my sworn protection for the duration of our arrangement.” Ira hadn’t been pleased with that particular clause when he’d agreed to it, but now pleasure echoed in his voice, as his announcement produced Avari’s rage. “Even if they come for her, I cannot let you take them.”

  That was my fail-safe. If my plan worked, my friends and family would never try to rescue me because—thanks to Levi’s lie—they thought I was truly gone. They thought my soul had been recycled and that I was finally resting in peace.

  But just in case one of them figured it out—Tod had the best chance because of his subconscious memory and because he worked with Levi—I had Ira. And Ira, as far as I knew, was the only being in existence who could stop Avari from doing what he did best. And Avari obviously knew it.

  The sound that burst from the greed hellion’s mouth was unlike anything I’d ever heard. It was a roar of outrage. A bellow of fury that crashed over and through me so thoroughly my bones quivered and my teeth clacked together, completely beyond my control.

  Ira seemed to swell with the sound. He took it in, sucking it from the very air like a sponge absorbing water, until Avari realized he was feeding his new nemesis and bit the roar off with a painful-sounding gurgle-growl.

  But that wasn’t the end of his rage. Though he probably had no idea, that was only the very beginning of what he would eventually feed Ira, as payment by proxy for the deal the hellion of rage and I had struck.

  “Well played, little fury,” Ira said, loud enough for Avari to hear, even if his ears were ringing like mine were. “Hellion rage is not as pure and satisfying as that of a mortal, but what it lacks in quality, it makes up for in quantity. This rage will burn within him for decades.”

  And that was just the tip of the anger-iceberg.

  “You’re paying him with my wrath?” the hellion of greed demanded, and yet more fury leaked out with his words, a verbal appetizer for Ira.