“Leave, assholes.” She sent the command booming through the house.
The evil bastards laughed. “We do not serve you.”
Ash closed her eyes and delved into her inner being. The souls she’d consumed over the years swirled together, long strands of color that fluttered like ribbons tossed by the wind. She chose Ealga, who had been an Irish witch directly descended from a Celtic goddess.
Imbibing a soul meant taking the personality, the form, the memories, the skills, the magic, and hell, even the clothing. Her clothes became part of her as she morphed, and when she assumed a new form, she was dressed in whatever clothing the souls had died in.
The transformation took precious minutes. Soul-shifting wasn’t like putting on a costume. She had to combine herself with the other, weaving the two of them together until they were bound. That was only the first part. The second was the re-forming of her body as it morphed to match the other’s shape.
As Ealga, she grew taller, her limbs more graceful, her body lithe as a dancer's. She wore a diaphanous blue gown. Her long, black hair was braided. She was also barefoot.
Ash opened her eyes and saw the situation not only from her perspective but also from Ealga’s.
The witch knew what to do. She raised her pale, thin arms and muttered a long incantation. Ash didn’t understand the words, but she got their meaning.
White light exploded from her palms, expelling the smoke, the dark magic, and the sulfur. The demons screeched like whipped bitches.
Their malicious presence disappeared.
“We sense a child.” Ash-Ealga ran up the stairs. She opened the door to the left. Here was a little girl’s room—with its pink walls and stuffed animals and scattered books.
She bent low and lifted the bed skirt. Margaret lay pressed against the carpet, her eyes wide and her body trembling. She’d had a bath and was dressed in purple pajamas.
“Ash!” She scrambled out and threw herself into Ash-Ealga’s arms.
Shocked, she tried to hold on to the wiggling mass of Margaret Lynne Huntson as she staggered to her feet. “How do you recognize us?”
“What do you mean?” Margaret’s tear-stained face lifted just long enough to study Ash-Ealga. “You look like you.”
She didn’t have time to ponder Margaret’s incredible statement. “We must go. Where is the box?”
“What box?” she asked, sniffling.
“Do not lie, child.”
“I hid it in my closet.”
Carrying the trembling little girl, Ash-Eagla hurried to look. On the top shelf was an intricately carved black box, which she grabbed. She gave it to Margaret to hold.
“I didn’t open it.”
“Only because you didn’t know how.” Ash-Eagla hurried down the stairs.
“Where's my mommy and daddy?”
“We sense no others.”
“They’re in the kitchen! We can’t leave without them.”
She put Margaret down in the foyer. “Go to the car. We will find your parents.”
As soon as the girl ran toward the sedan, Ash-Eagla hurried to the kitchen. Food and broken dishes littered the floor. The smell of garlic and marinara sauce filtered through the rusty scent of blood.
Margaret’s mother was pinned to the refrigerator by the broad, sharp blades of a butcher knivea. Her unseeing brown eyes accused the soul shifter of being too late.
“The second sacrifice,” said Ash-Eagla. “Her blood belongs to Lilith.”
“Natasha!”
Ash-Eagla turned. Jarod Dante stood in the doorway, his silver staff at the ready. “What do you need?”
“Protect the child and the box she carries.”
He nodded and disappeared.
Rick Huntson lay facedown on the floor, covered in spaghetti noodles. The red spattering his clothes was not sauce. Gently, Ash-Eagla rolled him over.
Stab wounds covered his chest. His T-shirt was tattered and stained. He was an older version of the boy Ash had known. Still handsome with careless brown hair and slanted cheeks and that dip in his chin.
Ash-Eagla could see the residual soul of Rick Huntson. Unlike his wife, he was still tethered to his body. She laid her hands on his chest.
“We ask the Goddess for Her blessing. Heal this warrior, this father, this husband. Give him his life so that he may serve You and others, our Holy Mother, Creator of All Life, Bringer of All Healing.”
Energy emanated from her palms, basking Rick’s body in a gold glow. His wounds sealed shut. His breath returned. The soul so close to leaving its host now settled with purpose into his chest.
Rick groaned and his eyes fluttered open. “Mag Pie.”
“Margaret is safe.”
He seemed to comprehend that his wife wasn’t. Perhaps he had been spared seeing her murdered, which meant she had seen him attacked. Her last thoughts must have been about her husband and daughter.
Rick’s eyes closed again, and he slid into unconsciousness.
Ash moved away. She knelt, took a deep breath, and stripped herself free of Eagla. Removing a soul felt like having her skin peeled from her muscles and her muscles torn from her bones. Souls could be coaxed into becoming one with her, but none of them liked going back into the mental limbo.
She screamed—she always screamed—as the soul ripped free of its binding and returned to its place within her psychic core.
After several moments of deep breathing, Ash climbed unsteadily to her feet. She refused to panic, but she felt a crazed sense of urgency.
In the dining room, she took off the tablecloth, uncaring about the dishes and glasses that clattered to the carpet. She returned to the kitchen, spread the cloth, and rolled Rick onto it. She tied one end around his feet then grabbed the corners of the other end and dragged him from the house. The stairs weren’t fun to navigate and the cloth snagged on the sidewalk.
Then Jarod was there, picking up the unconscious man and striding to the car. The driver’s side door opened. Margaret popped out, still clutching the precious container.
“Daddy!”
“Open the back door,” directed Ash.
Margaret did as she asked and watched as Jarod placed Rick into the back seat.
She shut the doors. She was sweating now, from exertion and fear. “Get in the car, kiddo.”
Margaret looked at her with wide blue eyes. “Is he dead?”
“No.”
“Is Mommy?”
“Yes,” said Ash. “Get your ass in the car.”
Margaret did not burst into tears. Instead, she climbed into the driver’s side, scooted across the gearshift, and sat silently in the passenger seat.
“They’ll be safe in Broken Heart,” said Jarod.
“I’ll drive straight there. Let them know I’m on the way with refugees. Take the necklace with you.”
He nodded, and then he cupped her face and kissed her hard. “Be careful.”
He took the box from Margaret and flickered out.
Ash opened her jacket and withdrew a black ball about the size of an orange from her pocket. She re-entered the house and placed the ball in the foyer. Standing out in the yard, she put her palms out and shouted, “Eradico!”
Ash could harness magic, but for powerful spells such as this one she used triggers, such as the black ball, to keep from draining her own energy.
The house erupted into flames. Within moments, it would be reduced to soot. No bodies would be found. The family would be assumed dead. Neighbors would call 9-1-1, but fire trucks would be too late. Since the fire was magic, it would not spread. It would do its job and disappear.
Ash returned to her old house and parked by the curb, leaving the engine running. She needed to get the hell out of the neighborhood, but damn it, she had to obliterate the place where her parents died. She never wanted to see this place again. She removed another black ball from her jacket, lobbed it onto the front porch and again screamed, “Eradico!”
Fire consumed the only home she’d
ever had. She wished she could destroy her whole past so easily.
She jumped into the car and sped away.
Chapter Six
Marietta, Ohio
CLAIRE SAT AT the dining room table eating yet another Lean Cuisine. She’d already taken a shower and tucked herself into Henry’s high school football jersey. Her nightly routine was simple. Put on a nightie. Eat. Brush her teeth. Pick a book. Make tea. Go to bed.
Sitting on the table just inches from the plastic tray was her colorful friend. As she ate sesame chicken, she stared at the owl head. She put down her fork and turned the statue around. She wished she knew where to find Natasha. Maybe her old friend could shed some light on the unusual find.
Abandoning her dinner, she took the owl to the couch and sat down to study it. With the tip of her forefinger, she traced the owl’s beak. Electricity jolted through her. The statue tumbled to the floor as she fell backward onto the couch.
Everything went dark.
Broken Heart, Oklahoma
ASH WOKE WITH the certain knowledge that someone was in the room. She whipped the blade from under her pillow and pressed it against the throat of the man hovering above her.
“Hello,” croaked Jarod.
“Jesus H. Christ!” She removed the knife and rolled across the bed. She sat up and glared at him. “Do you have a death wish?”
“I wanted to check on you.”
“Why?”
Jarod shook his head. “You don’t like it when people care, do you?”
“Ugh. Spare me.” Ash flopped back onto the bed. “How are the Huntsons?”
“You did good. Everyone is safe. Broken Heart will be the sanctuary Rick and his daughter needs. The little girl is special. She definitely belongs here.”
Ash had sensed the same thing in Margaret.
“Yeah. I’m glad about that.” After Ash had gotten to Broken Heart, Queen Patsy and a battalion of vampire mothers descended upon Rick and Margaret. They’d been washed, fed, hugged, and finally, put to bed in one of the rooms at the Three Sisters Bed and Breakfast. Ash had gotten a room, too, and immediately passed out.
She considered Jarod’s declaration about letting people care about her. Ash cleared her throat. “Soul shifting takes a lot out of me.”
Jarod made himself comfortable on the bed and opened his arms. “C’mere.”
“What for?”
“To snuggle.”
Ash grimaced. “Sounds weird.”
“Natasha. Come here right now and snuggle with me.”
“All right, all right. Just stop saying the word snuggle.” Ash scooted across the bed and settled in Jarod’s arms. He felt warm and cozy, a cocoon of tender strength she’d never had before. She felt herself relax. With her face pressed against his chest, she fell asleep.
ASH STOOD AT the entrance to the crypt. It was dark and raining. The cold drops clung to her lashes and rolled down her cheeks. She pushed on the metal gate barring the entrance and it swung open. She hurried inside and stopped. Lit candles in wall sconces offered dim light. And there, the altar was right where it should be.
Hands trembling, she brought the statue to the edge of the stone of platform. The figurine slipped. It tumbled to the stone floor and shattered.
Red smoke erupted and cruel feminine laughter filled the air. “You can’t stop me,” cried Lilith. “The world will burn, Ash. The world will burn.”
ASH SHOT UP, the covers falling away. As the nightmare faded, she realized she was safe. And she wasn’t alone.
“Natasha?”
Ash looked down at Jarod. His dark eyes were on her. “You okay?”
At some point, Jarod had discarded all his clothes but his boxers, and she was in a tank top and bootie shorts. Her gaze dropped to the hard-on tenting his silk boxers.
She lifted an eyebrow.
“Sleeping next to you has that effect.”
Ash felt the hot pulse of lust, and she thought about leaning down and licking that delectable cock. She bit her lower lip. Rubbing her mouth over that velvet flesh, feeling it penetrate her throat, his hands in her hair, his groans of pleasure echoing in her ears … yes, please.
Ash couldn’t keep her gaze off his erection. She couldn’t quite stop herself from crawling between his legs and stripping off his underwear. She cupped his balls. One hand wrapped around his shaft and stroked it.
Jarod groaned, his eyes closing as she pleasured him.
Her lips descended, sliding down his flesh, sucking him deeply. Her body throbbed with primal heat. She felt so overwhelmed by the need to pleasure this man, she could barely breathe. His fingers slid into her hair as she licked and sucked his cock.
Ash loved his musky scent, the taste of his maleness. She didn’t want to stop, and soon, she gained a rhythm that made him groan, made him beg for release. Ash stroked the base of his shaft as her mouth took him. The rhythm she created made him cry out, and before she understood what had happened, Jarod lifted her away and plastered her against the bed, rolling on top of her.
Ash’s heart pounded as erotic heat poured through her. Her skin was so sensitized that the velvety fabric of the bedcovers brushing her naked thighs offered tiny thrills of pleasure. Her nipples hardened, her breasts filled with the ache to know Jarod’s touch.
He lowered himself between her legs, and she gasped as he grazed the quivering flesh of her inner thighs.
She hadn’t dated, much less taken a lover in God knew how many years. Any time she felt frisky, she took care of it herself. But this … this was much better.
He shimmied off her shorts and tossed them off the bed. The press of his mouth against her panties, pushing so enticingly against her most feminine core made her moan.
Ash wanted more. She took off her shirt and wiggled off her panties.
“You’re beautiful,” said Jarod. “So beautiful, Natasha.”
He nibbled on her hips and licked her belly. His tongue dipped into her navel. He slid lower still. His hands snaked around her thighs, and he pressed his mouth against her.
Delicious, sensual fire rolled over Ash, causing her to arch against his mouth. His wicked tongue darted in and out of her, the strokes rough and fast.
Bliss coiled tight and hot. Just as an orgasm threatened to overwhelm her, her lover pulled away.
“Damn it!” she cried.
Chuckling, he inserted two fingers inside her wet heat and started licking her clit again. The thrusts of his fingers matched those of his tongue. Her pleasure coiled tighter and tighter, but just as she might’ve gone over, he withdrew again.
“I’m gonna kill you.”
“I’d prefer for you to love me.”
His words electrified her as much as his hard body sliding oh-so-sensually against her.
His hands coasted over her stomach, drifting across her ribs, and then up to torment her breasts. Jarod paid her exquisite attention. His fingers found her nipples, rolled them into tight buds. He dragged his lips over her neck, the light rasp of his tongue tasting the spot under her ear. She shuddered and pressed her restless hands against his head, threading her fingers through his silky hair.
His tongue thrust into her mouth, and she could feel his desperation, his need. It matched her own. His fingers dipped through her curls to tease her swollen clit.
She stroked the muscled contours of his back. His tight buttocks flexed under her palms. Her hands wandered every inch of his muscled flesh as she pressed closer, moaning.
His cock nestled against her wet heat, nudging her entrance.
“Please,” she murmured. “Please.”
His cock inched inside her. Ash moaned, the velvety-smooth penetration stretching her wide.
When he was fully sheathed, she wrapped her legs around his waist and met his slow, measured thrusts.
The light hair on his chest abraded her nipples and caused sensation to ripple all the way to the heat building so deliciously between her thighs.
Ash felt the pleasure rise sharply. She pa
nted, her nails digging into his ass. He didn’t seem to mind.
“Oh God! Jarod!” She went over the edge, flying into sparkling bliss. As she rode the crest, she heard him groan. He stilled suddenly before his hips jerked against her and his harsh pants brushed against her neck as he spasmed inside her.
After the orgasm subsided, he rose on his elbows and gave Ash a tender kiss. “You are amazing.”
She grinned, feeling exhausted but happy—a totally weird combination for her. “You’re not so bad yourself.
Las Vegas, Nevada
AT THE SOUL searchers office, Nor stared at the headless lion. He could hardly believe a super powerful demon would use such a piece of crap as her vessel.
You couldn’t account for some people’s tastes.
With no computer, Nor relied on his smartphone to Google information about Lilith. After reading several articles, he concluded that was she was a horrible bitch. He’d texted with Ash last night. He knew that after she did a soul shift, she’d pass out for a good twelve hours.
God, he was bored.
He missed Ash’s smartassery.
But he was thrilled with the appearance of Jarod the Gorgeous. He hoped his BFF let Jarod into her life. The man obviously cared about her, even if he’d resurrected the Convocation. Ash in love. Nor grinned. Bet his little soul shifter didn’t see that coming.
The office felt stuffy, even in the early morning hours without the sun beating down on those stupid enough to live in a desert. Nor propped open the door with a banker’s box filled with paperwork neither he nor Ash would file. They didn’t enjoy the mundane tasks that came with operating a business, so they both ignored it all.
“I could probably absorb this information better if we could turn on the lights. And have the ability to make coffee.” He rubbed his temples. “Oh, electricity how I miss you!”
The sudden, massive presence had Nor pushing out of his chair. His heart hammering, he looked everywhere. He couldn’t see anyone, not even with his lycan vision. His stomach curdled as the smell of sulfur infiltrated the entire office.
Your Lycan or Mine? Page 4
