“Who is that?” I asked, wishing he would look back again.
“TC customers,” Hayden said.
Witches. Made sense. “Are they a couple?”
She threw me a weird look. “I don’t know. Why?”
“He has gorgeous eyes.” I fanned myself. “Are they local? Do they come to the store often?”
Hayden rolled her eyes. “Only when they are passing through town. Your cousin is here,” she said.
I looked up just as Zack reached us. His eyes went to Hayden and stayed. “You guys came to watch me practice?” he asked.
“Was that what you were doing out there?” Hayden retorted. “I’ve seen better peewee football drills.”
“Want to show me how it’s done? A tackle maybe. Or body slam?” He ran his eyes up and down her body. “I wouldn’t mind,” he added with a smirk.
“That was the corniest line you’ve ever pulled out of your ass,” Hayden said.
I agreed. My cousin was losing his touch. Instead of interrupting them, I backed away until I reached the bleachers. One of these days, they’d stop tap-dancing around each other and get a room. Zack called Hayden Ice Princess while she called him a man-whore, which he was. Girls threw themselves at him all the time, and he hooked up with them with no intention of dating them. He and Hayden would be great together. She didn’t put up with his bullshit, and he actually got her to say more than a sentence.
I sat on the nearest bleacher and everything went black. It took me a moment to realize I’d projected into a room, a very dark room with torches on the walls. How was this possible? I didn’t see any aura before it happened. And who used torches in this day and age?
I turned around, the cold crawling under my skirt. I’d never reacted to the temperature in the astral plane. I crossed my arms and rubbed them.
“Who the hell are you? And what are you doing here?” a voice demanded, and I whipped around.
A guy stood at the other end of the room, and from his tone, he was pissed. I peered at him. Blond hair and a face that was gorgeous. Strong jawline. High cheekbones. Slashes of eyebrows above ridiculously long lashes. Okay, beautiful face, yet masculine.
I never liked pretty boys. It was hard to tell the color of his eyes because he wasn’t looking at me. He kept pacing. He was tall, which made me at five-five and three-quarters feel like a midget. Lean too, like a ball player. Never liked jocks either or I would have dated one of Zack’s friends behind his back. He tended to be overly protective, but when I wanted something, I tended to bulldoze through obstacles.
What the hell was I doing? My presence meant I was supposed to help him, not ogle him and think about dates, or lack thereof. This was probably another fraternity initiation. I’d once rescued a student from a boiler room after a prank, but this couldn’t be a local college. This place looked like an old castle, or a crumbling building a school board preserved because it had history.
What had he said before? Oh, right. He’d asked about someone. I looked round trying to find the person he’d been talking to.
“Get out of here,” he snarled and stopped pacing to glare at me. “Tell her she can keep me a prisoner for as long as she wants, but it won’t change a damn thing. This”—he jabbed at his chest—“is who I am.”
Okay. Wait. Prisoner? I looked over my shoulder, but there was no one there but me. “Are you talking to me?”
“No, I’m talking to myself like a crazy-ass lunatic,” he snapped. “Of course I’m talking to you.”
He could see me. Weird. Only animals did that. “Who are you, and who is keeping you a prisoner?”
“Who do you think?” The anger seemed to go out of him, and he sat on the bed I hadn’t noticed was there. It was black with a thin mattress and an even thinner blanket and one pillow. A dungeon with a slab of stone for a bed? This was beyond weird. Definitely one of those New England schools.
My focus went back to the guy.
Something about him drew my attention and held it. Maybe it was the way he carried himself, or the hotness factor was clouding my judgment. His boots were shiny and clean, which meant he hadn’t been a prisoner for long. And his clothes seemed expensive. Everything about him screamed preppie.
“Have you been pranked by your frat brothers or dorm mates?” I asked. Most prep schools had fancy names like dorm masters and prefects. “Because I’m getting rather tired of initiations gone wrong.”
He growled. “Go haunt someone else, little soul.” He shifted and settled on his back. “When I open my eyes, you’d better be gone.”
CHAPTER 3. MY ROOM, MY KINGDOM
EIRIK
I glared at the ceiling. Three days my mother had kept me in here. Three days of cold food, a hard bed, and complete isolation. When not cursing her, I’d tortured myself with what I could be doing back on Earth—hanging out with Raine and courting Cora.
Just because I came from a gene pool filled with magic didn’t mean I had abilities, too. I wasn’t a shifter, and I couldn’t wave a stick and cast spells or cause lightning like my mother. If I could have premonitions like my father, I would have foreseen the chain of events leading to another man taking my girl and stopped it. Cora would be mine.
Shuffles came from the left, and I shifted my head to study my visitor on the sly from underneath my lashes. She was a pretty little thing with brown hair and dimples. Yep, I’d noticed the dimples. Never cared for them. They messed with the smooth planes of a face, and hers could be considered perfect. If I had my camera, I’d capture the stubborn set of her jaw and her flashing eyes.
My attention was drawn to her most striking feature—her lips. Now those deserved to be immortalized on film because they were… delectable. They were full, almost unreal, yet they complemented her almond-shaped blue eyes. She moved closer.
What the hell was wrong with me? The way the girl had appeared out of nowhere said she was a soul. If my mother thought sending a pretty soul to screw with my head would make me bend to her wishes, she had better think again. I was crazy about another and miserable, and no puny soul with pouty lips was going to change that.
Didn’t I just tell her to leave? Obviously, being rude didn’t work with her.
I turned my head and showed her the full force of my annoyance. She stared right back. I made my way down her body. The maxi skirt was cute, hugged her in just the right places, but the V-neck emerald top was designed to showcase her impressive chest. A chest like Cora’s. I closed my eyes and waited for the anger to pass, then opened them.
She was still there. Her arms were crossed as though to stop me from staring at her chest. I dragged my eyes to hers, expecting to find them flashing with anger. They weren’t. Instead, they were amused, and a small smile tugged her lush lips.
“How can I help you?” she asked in an annoyingly upbeat voice.
“What part of I want you gone when I open my eyes didn’t you understand?” I said, not toning down my annoyance.
She shrugged. “Oh, I understood everything. I just choose to ignore what doesn’t work for me. It’s my job to help you, so here I am.”
She flashed a smile and the dimples winked at me. Damn. She actually pulled them off.
“Who do I need to scare or chase? Or should I just bust you out of this”—she looked around and rubbed her arms—“this freezing dungeon?”
Her statement was hilarious. She couldn’t be more than five-five, too small to move anything. But the confident way she talked said she could take on anyone.
Everything about her bugged me. Her lips. Her smile. Her cockiness. Her impressive cleavage. Once again, I compared her features with Cora’s. While Cora had a seductive sexiness that was irresistible, this soul had an innocent charm that was both intriguing and annoying. Like a girl playing grownup. A girl with amazing lips.
A loud bang resounded somewhere in the hall and marching footsteps followed. Some moved fast—guards walking ahead of my mother to open the doors to my humble accommodations. Some were slow—her per
sonal guards matching their steps to hers.
“Unless you can subdue four burly guards and my mother, you need to skedaddle, Kewpie.”
Her eyes widened, and for the first time uncertainty flickered in their depths. She glanced at the door, but didn’t leave. She either had a death wish or there was something seriously wrong with her. The need to protect her from my mother crept in, but I squashed it. I hadn’t asked her to come in here.
“Do you know what she does to helpless souls who piss her off?” I asked. “She sends them down the river to Corpse Strand. You may not know what it’s called, but it’s her little island of torture. If you listen closely, you can hear the screams of despair. They go on day and night, and I’ve had to listen to them for three days straight.” That was a lie, but I would say anything to get her to leave.
She didn’t. The footsteps drew closer. Panic flashed in her eyes as she frantically looked around.
“Just float out of here the way you came in,” I snapped.
“I’m trying, but I can’t.”
“What do you mean you can’t? Magic may not work the normal way in this place, but you must have done something right to get in here.” The first set of footsteps slowed down. I jumped up. “Damn it. Move,” I snapped and waved her over.
She shook her head. “I don’t do possession.”
“Do I look like I want you to possess me? I want you gone, but since I’m stuck with you, I’m doing what I can to protect you.” Against my better judgment. My mother focusing on the soul might give me reprieve. I was tired of begging her to release me.
“Maybe they won’t see me,” the soul muttered under her breath. She also kept closing her eyes and squeezing them tight, then opening them.
“They’ll definitely see you, Kewpie, so get your ass over here.” There was no storage space under my bed, so I yanked the blankets off. She was so tiny maybe my mother and her entourage would miss her. The footsteps stopped outside my door. “Now!”
The soul dashed across the room and hopped onto my bed, a gasp escaping her. I peered at her. Her eyes were wide. Once again, the instinct to protect her blindsided me. “Are you okay?”
“The bed is really…” she whispered.
I waited for her to finish the sentence, but she was busy pressing her hand on the thin mattress, then the slab of stone under it.
“Yes, the bed is really hard,” I finished for her. “Imagine sleeping in it for three nights straight. It’s a wonder I slept at all.”
She reached out and pushed my thigh.
“Hey! Hands off. My body is off-limits to your kind.” Mother might have fallen for a soul, but I wasn’t going that route. I threw the blanket over her and dropped the pillow on top for added effect.
“I can’t breathe,” she mumbled, but it sounded like a question.
“Tough. Scoot over.” I dropped beside her and pushed her toward the wall. She wiggled to create space between us. I followed.
“You’re squashing me, you big oaf,” she hissed.
“Shut up and lay still.” I reclined casually on my side, propped my elbow on the bed, and rested my head on the heel of my hand. They shouldn’t see her.
Bolts snapped as the guards unlocked the door. They entered the room carrying more torches. Exactly what I didn’t need, more lights. They might see her. I inched closer to the soul and could feel her trembling. I felt a little bad for being mean to her.
“It’s okay, Kewpie. I got you,” I whispered as the guards moved closer.
My mother entered the room, and I groaned. She wore black, the heavy cloak falling down her back and sides like wings. Even her jewelry was black. Black meant the cold and cruel side of her was in control. Color meant I might catch a glimpse of the mother I’d met three days ago. She gave the term bipolar a new meaning.
She stood in the middle of my room and looked around. Previously, I had stood whenever she’d appeared. Respect for women was something Raine’s father had drilled into me.
Raine. If she were here…
No, I wasn’t going there. And I wasn’t standing. The trembling soul behind me needed my protection. “Mother,” I said.
“Who were you talking to?” she demanded.
“No one. How is Viggo doing? Are you still torturing him?”
“The guards overheard you talking to someone,” she continued. “Was your father in here?”
For three days, I’d begged her to let Viggo go and demanded answers because locking me in this damp, cold dungeon served no purpose. I had no idea what point she was trying to prove. Begging had annoyed her and yelling had amused her. It was time to try a different approach.
“Nah, I was talking to myself,” I said casually. “There’s something about hearing my own voice that keeps me sane. Speaking of Father, what happened to him? Haven’t seen him since he threw me that nice welcome home shindig. Do tell him to swing by here sometime, Mother. We could eat cold leftovers and talk about what a disappointment I’ve turned out to be. FYI, he did tell me that, too. Only he was filled with fatherly concerns and less Red Queen-esque like some parent I could mention, but I was raised right, and I don’t point fingers.”
The girl had gone still, and I could only imagine what must be going through her head. If she was new in Hel, she might not have heard about my glorious return and subsequent humiliation.
“You should just wave that staff and say off with his head and this pre-training exercise would be over. I’d be much easier to control dead, don’t you think? You just shoot lightning from your staff and I’ll do whatever you want.”
The guards fidgeted. Mother wore an arrested expression as though my new attitude had surprised her. “Very amusing. There’s a soul missing,” she said. “She arrived just before you got here, but left the boat when Modgud was escorting you to the hall.”
So, Kewpie was actually a fugitive bound for Torture Island. I was keeping her now. Not just because she needed my help, but because my mother wanted her. Anything to stick it to my mother. I grinned.
“Sorry, not my problem. I have enough on my plate.” The arm supporting my head was starting to go numb. It was time to speed up this latest meeting. “When is this going to stop, Mother? I came to see you and to get to know you better, not to be thrown in the dungeon like a criminal. Let’s just sit down and talk. You and me. No guards and no pomp. This”—I waved with my left hand to indicate the room—“is ridiculous and melodramatic. I mean, who locks their children in dungeons because they’re disappointed in them? Worse, I’m not sure what you want.”
“My darling child,” she whispered and started toward me.
My stomach dropped. If she moved any closer, she’d discover the lump under my blanket.
“You’ve been pampered all your life,” she continued. “I have no use for a son who sits around my hall, sipping mead and chasing after servant girls. That kind of lifestyle is for your grandfather’s castle, not mine. No matter what you think, I’m doing you a favor. Mental endurance comes from facing your death and surviving it, and I swear by Father’s tortured soul that I will see you become more than this”—she waved to indicate me—“sniveling idiot in front of me.”
That stung. “Ouch! I’ve been in here for three days and you feed me one meal a day, yet look at me. It’s called endurance. I bet you wouldn’t last a day in here without your staff. And I don’t just mean the giant magic wand.” I pointed at the bejeweled scepter she was never without. “I’m talking about your little toy soldiers.” I indicated the guards. They didn’t like that. I smirked.
Just as I’d hoped, she stopped. I swallowed when her hand tightened on her scepter. Any second I expected her to point it at me and blast me to tiny pieces. She’d still have my soul to torture. The girl was shivering again and…
What the hell? She was muttering something over and over. Probably praying.
“You insolent boy,” my mother snapped.
“I’m tired, Mother. And if anyone is insolent, it’s you. You called
me a sniveling idiot.” The girl’s mutterings grew louder. I was going to strangle her if we made it through this together. “You know what? You need to leave.”
The guards shifted again, but this time, I ignored them, my eyes locked with my mother’s. I had surprised her again.
“I may not control the rest of this land or realm, but this room is mine. Dingy and dank as it is, I’m the king and the servant. Or if you prefer, the god and the reaper, and I’m saying I don’t want you here.”
The scowl left her face and a grin replaced it, her blue eye gleaming with approval while the runes in her right eye turned it pitch black.
“As you wish.” She turned to leave.
If I had known all it took was douchebaggery on my part to get her to leave me alone, I would have done it days ago and stopped her torturous visits. Douchebaggery. Man, I missed Raine and her wacky sense of humor. She’d be cheering me on right now.
Grinning in triumph, I reached behind me to warn the escapee soul to keep it down. My hand landed on her ass, the upward curve below her waist. The muttering stopped. I moved up, and she gripped my thumb through the blanket and twisted. Pain shot up my arm. I tried to break her hold.
Damn, she was strong. I dampened the pain with runes.
“I respect your wish to treat this place as your kingdom, Son,” my mother said. She’d stopped by the door and turned to face me. The smile left her face and her eyes hardened. “Remove those right now. Don’t ever use his runes in my presence.”
Whose runes? I let go of the runes and watched her visibly relax. What did she have against healing runes?
“Let’s test your endurance, shall we? From today, you will not be served any food or given water. These torches will last you twenty-four hours. Once they go out, the oils will not be replaced.” The smile she gave me was filled with malice. “Let’s see how long you last, Son.”
Too shocked to react, I watched the heavy door close. The thuds of the bolts sliding into place sounded final. Her laughter echoed in the hallway. Shock wore off fast, anger sending it into oblivion. I jumped off the bed and shook my arm, trying to get back the circulation. It had gone numb.
Demons (Eirik Book 1) Page 5
