Soul of the Sea

by Jasmine Denton

  He’d carved it on the lid, and now she knew why he kept showing her that symbol. It was a peace offering, an apology. As much as she strived to defend against it, she could feel Dylan’s love rush out at her, feel the warmth those cold arms magically gave her.

  Curiosity got the better of her, and she opened the box. On a piece of velvet lay the necklace Dylan gave her. The lightning shaped glass she’d watched him make with her very eyes. The one she left in the cave.

  Her body went stiff and rigid when the puzzle pieces merged in her mind. Dylan had been back to the house.

  Out of shock, the box fell from her hands and landed on the floor. The necklace and tiny velvet cushion tumbled out of the chest, revealing a small slip of paper tucked underneath.

  She leaned forward, scooped up all of the pieces and laid them on her bed. She unfolded the piece of paper and held it up to the light. She choked on her own breath when the familiar words registered in her mind.

  “Death was in that poisonous wave,

  And in its gulf a fitting grave

  For him who thence could solace bring

  To his lone imagining—

  Whose solitary soul could make

  An Eden of that dim lake”

  She brought her knees up to her chest and dropped her forehead to rest on the top. Even though so many things made sense, like why she felt drawn to the ocean, and how she heard the song Charity couldn’t hear, and why her father never came home, she still felt confused.

  She wished for Dylan’s comfort. The old Dylan, when she thought he was just on the run from an abusive family. Not the monster that likely ripped her father limb from limb.

  She never wanted to see him again.

  ***

  The wind howled as she stepped out onto the widow’s walk. The shadows of the trees seemed darker than ever before, their shapes stretched out across the sand like mountains, until their tips were trampled by the waves crashing onto the shore.

  She turned to face the ocean, to scour the waters for any sign of Dylan. She didn’t even realize he was the one she was looking for, until she saw him.

  He was there, a couple miles from the shore, adrift in the violent turmoil of the water. The waves broke against his back, smashed against him but they didn’t move him. Instead, he forced them to scatter around him, as though he was an unmovable rock. He looked whitewashed beneath the pale moonlight, and lonely. So lonely.

  He stared at her, as if sharing her thoughts, seeing the vision of what they could have shared. A relationship…a wedding…a lifetime of happiness together. Turning his back on them, he dove into the murky depths of the water.

  Her heart lurched for him, to dive in after him. She wanted to kill him and she wanted to hug him. She wanted to forgive him and hate him. The emotions battled a war inside her—a constant, stomach churning war.

  She knew the only way to silence it. The only way she could make some peace with everything that happened. Taking her cell phone out of her pocket, she dialed Brad’s number. He answered on the first ring, despite that it was near two in the morning. “I want you to teach me how to be a Hunter.”

  Coming February 1st 2012

  The Exciting Sequel

  Song of the Sea

  Turn the page for a sneak preview…

  Chapter One

  Reckless Danger

  “I bet this isn’t how you planned on celebrating the start of your senior year,” Brad said to Mykaela as they waited in his truck, parked by the dock that overlooked the tumultuous ocean waves.

  Mykaela ran a sharpening stone over the bluish fulgurite blade of her knife, watching as the moonlight glinted off it. “I couldn’t think of a better way.”

  He laughed, shifting to look out at the ocean. “Run the facts by me again.”

  Nodding, she grabbed the manila folder from the dashboard and opened it. “The victims were—”

  Brad swiped the folder from her hands. “You know better than to read it from the case file.”

  Annoyed, she raised her eyebrows and accepted his challenge. “Victims were all young couples between sixteen and twenty-five years old. Most of them were parked here at Hunter’s Point during the late hours of the night. And they all drowned while still inside their cars—parked on land, of course. Your buddies down at the police station think it’s another serial killer. We know the truth.”

  The corner of Brad’s lip poked upward in a half-grin as he kept his eyes on the rolling water on the horizon, always on the lookout for anything unusual. “Good job, Whindom. Maybe you are a natural.”

  A natural freak, maybe, she thought bitterly. The fulfillment of a prophecy, Mykaela was destined to open some silly vault where cursed souls were kept, and free the Souls of the Sea from their eternal damnation to the ocean. After a runaway sea-king named Dylan broke her heart though, she had no interest in breaking the curse. As far as she was concerned, those souls could rot in the vault for eternity. She trailed her fingertip over the edge of the shiny blue fulgurite, grinning at the rush the sharp sting of the glass blade gave her. Still, her gaze never moved from the black sedan parked a few yards away. The windows were steamed up, the couple inside only a blur against the foggy glass. It was a little embarrassing—Mykaela had to admit—to be staking out two lovers so consumed with passion. They’d parked by the dock almost an hour ago, and had been going at it ever since.

  It would be good for the case though, because the more the couple’s passion grew, the more hormones they emitted, luring the Soul of the Sea straight to the spot where Brad and Mykaela waited. Mykaela could literally see their passion, the pink pulses their love imprinted on the veil of energy that surrounds all living things.

  When anything supernatural happened—whether the feeling of intense love, or the presence of ultimate evil—it created a sort of stain of color on the normally invisible energy. For a reason unknown to her, Mykaela could see the brands of love, the dark auras of evil, and hear the music that followed all malevolent beings. Brad couldn’t, of course, he was only a human who knew what danger lurked beneath the surface of that seemingly placid water. But Mykaela could see, hear and sense.

  Something in the peaceful atmosphere shifted. A soft tune swept through the air at a pitch only she could notice—the slow, sexy sounds of a saxophone’s song marked the arrival of evil. Gripping her hands around the knife, she whispered, “He’s here.”

  As soon as the words were out, they saw a shadowy figure, walking slowly out of the water, heading straight for the black car.

  She pushed open her door. “You flash your badge and get the couple out of here. Then come help me.”

  He nodded, and without another word or glance, they both sprung into motion. She darted out of the car and ran down the beach, while he went left toward the couple.

  The Soul of the Sea looked like a regular person, but she knew immediately he was different. The moon was high, yet he cast no shadow—something Brad’s training taught her was a dead giveaway. Because shadows and reflections are both physical manifestations of a person’s soul.

  He spotted her, and slowly turned to face his challenger. She knew he could be in her face in the blink of an eye if he wanted, but he moved with slow strides, as if taunting her. Telling her he knew why she was there—that he would beat her.

  Racing across the sand, the wind whipped at her hair, howling a warning. Every muscle in her body tensed as she braced herself for the attack. When he was right in front of her, she stunned him with a kick to the face, and then another to the stomach. Grunting, he shook off the pain and lunged for her. Holding her knife at the right angle, she aimed it so the blade would plunge into him. He tackled her to the ground, using one hand to pin her arms above her head and the other to wrestle her knife out of her grip.

  She panicked and struggled to push him off her, but she felt like a car was sitting on her chest and she could barely move.

  “You think you can beat me?” he growled, his voice vicious and menacing. “You
’re just a little girl.”

  She managed to squirm one of her hands out of his hold. Clutching his wrist, Mykaela grappled for her knife, but he overpowered her, shifting so the edge of the blade pressed against Mykaela’s throat.

  Mykaela felt the sharp edge slice into the skin just underneath her chin. Had she really just sharpened this knife so it could kill her easier? No way. Using all of her strength, she pushed against his arm, but he wouldn’t budge.

  Suddenly, he was yanked off of her, dropping her knife in surprise. While Brad held the guy’s arms behind his back, Mykaela jumped to her feet and scooped up her knife, then plunged it into the monster’s heart.

  The blood splattered on her hands, and the horrible sound of flesh ripping echoed in her ears. His expression shifted from shock to pain as he began to choke on his own blood.

  Mykaela thought of the pain her father must have been in when he died. She pictured him on that boat, with her brother watching, while Dylan killed him. Had Dylan drained her father’s soul, or had he just taken his life? She remembered the trust she’d misplaced in Dylan, the depth of her love for him— how she’d been willing to die for him, not knowing the pain he’d caused her family.

  Her torment boiled over in a scream as she yanked the knife out and rammed it back in, this time into his stomach. Again into his chest. She slashed him across the throat, watching the blood pour out as the power in the knife electrocuted him from the inside out. She drove the blade into his heart again. Again and again and again, until he finally burst into a puddle of water.

  Gasping, she stepped back and looked at Brad. He stared at her like she was an animal, and she braced herself for a lecture. Instead, he started towards his car. “Good job.”

  But as they neared Brad’s car, Mykaela noticed something. Two bodies were slumped over the dashboard of the black sedan they’d been watching earlier.

  Stopping, Mykaela pointed to the car. “I thought you told them to get out of here.”

  He turned, looking at the car, his brows furrowing in confusion. “I did.”

  Mykaela dashed over to the car to check on the couple. The closer she drew to it, the more intense the evil’s aftermath felt. Dark energies surrounded the car, signaling that an evil act happened there. Whoever had been there poisoned the atmosphere, leaving behind some form of supernatural radiation only she could detect.

  Closing her eyes, she used her heightened senses to try to target the song. If she could pinpoint the sound, she’d be able to recognize it next time. The residue the evil act created in the air was loud and overwhelming, and the water spots around the car made it clear that the killer had been a Siren or Soul of the Sea, but she couldn’t hear the song. “That’s so weird,” she said, finally giving up. “There’s no song.”

  “What do you think that means?” He frowned and reached his arm through the open window. He gently pushed the male driver back, probing his fingers around the guy’s throat for a pulse.

  “I have no idea.” Mykaela turned away from the car. She knew the young couple was dead, and she didn’t want to torture herself by taking in the details of their features, or finding out their names.

  “Do you think it means something else killed them?” Brad straightened as he pulled his arm back out. “Something besides a Siren or Soul of the Sea?”

  The thought brought a chill of fear to her skin. “What else is there?”

  “That’s anybody’s guess.” Taking her arm, he led her away from the car. “Come on. We need to get out of here before someone sees us.”

  ***

  By the time Brad dropped Mykaela off at home, it was nearly one o’clock in the morning. The Seaside Inn was dark except for a light in the lobby and the kitchen. Using her key, she let herself in the back door when she heard the sounds of a microwave and someone moving around inside. Her heart thumping, she peeked around the corner, praying her mother wouldn’t see her all covered in blood. With a sigh of relief, she realized it was only her brother, Jared. He stood at the counter, with his weight rested on his hands, glancing up from the plate of leftovers rotating in the microwave when she walked in.

  “You should have been there tonight.” Mykaela reached into the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of water. She hoisted herself to sit on the opposite counter, and kicked her legs back and forth against the lower-level cabinet. “We needed your help.”

  “You realize you have blood all over your sweatshirt, right?” Jared crinkled his nose in disgust. “You should change before Mom sees you. Unless you want to blow your big secret, that is.”

  Mykaela being a Hunter wasn’t the only big secret she was keeping from her mother, but she couldn’t tell Jared that. He didn’t know her slew of secrets, either. “Since when are you so squeamish?” She grinned at him, trying to change the subject.

  “And you know you have blood on your neck, right? It looks like someone tried to cut your throat.”

  She shrugged, wiping at the blood around her throat. She’d learned that her powers allowed her to heal quickly, but the dried blood still stained her skin. “Someone did. Job hazard.”

  “Did you save the people, at least?”

  She glanced down, picking at a fresh rip in her jeans. “No, not this time.”

  “Wow, you seem really torn up about it.”

  “Of course I am.” She glared at him. How could he possibly think she wasn’t upset about losing two innocent people? “But I can’t get personally involved. It’ll get me nowhere. You should know that. You used to do this, too.”

  Jared kept his gaze fixed on the microwave. “Yeah, well, I’m through with Hunting.”

  “So a Siren tricked you into falling in love and almost bled your soul dry.” She gave him a playful wink. “It was months ago, get over it.”

  He shot her a dirty look.

  “Oh, come on. I’m just teasing.”

  “Well, it’s not funny.” Popping open the microwave, he pulled his plate out, then slammed the door shut again. He turned to her, balancing the plate on one hand. “You know, you’re surprisingly well adjusted for someone whose boyfriend just died.”

  It was a low blow, even for Jared. But she figured she deserved the hateful remark, so she ignored him and jumped down from the counter, turning on her heel to jog up the stairs.

  Once inside her bedroom, Mykaela locked her door and went to the adjoining bathroom and flipped on the light.

  Looking down at her hands, she noticed for the first time that they were red-stained. In fact, her entire body was drenched in blood and splattered with water spots. Dried, crimson smears marked her neck and chin, tarnished her jeans and her hooded sweatshirt. It was even matted into parts of her brown hair.

  She looked half crazy, she realized, and even worse, she feared she was half-crazy. Most of the time, she felt like she was blindly trying to navigate her way through her pain, through her self-proclaimed duty of protecting Harmony Harbor from the evil she could psychically sense. And most of the time, she had no idea where she was headed.

  Turning the faucet on, she stuck her hands under the cold water, scrubbing at the remnants of the blood. When her hands were clean, she used a wet washcloth to rub at the stains around her neck and throat. She carefully inspected her body for any more signs of the blood, knowing she really needed a shower, but there were more important things on her mind. She went into her bedroom without bothering to turn on the light, opting to pull open the drapes and use moonlight to guide her.

  Walking over to the dresser, she pulled open the first drawer and her gaze landed on the tiny treasure chest shaped jewelry-box that sat on top of it. Tears rushed to fill her eyes, thickening in her throat and making her vision haze. For a second, as she focused in on that small box, she remembered everything.

  The blond haired, blue-eyed Irish rogue hand carved it from a block of wood, and carved a dove perched on an olive branch on top. He loved to show her that symbol—he’d drawn it in the sand one day when he’d almost kissed her. He’d engra
ved it on the banister of the front stair case, when he made it over a century ago when he was still a living, breathing, human being. Before a Siren convinced him to take his life by jumping into the ocean. Before a curse transformed him into a soulless killing-machine.

  Before he killed her father.

  Swallowing tears and shoving the memories down, Mykaela tore her gaze away from the box and reached into the drawer. She pushed her socks out of her way and retrieved the spirit board she kept hidden underneath.

  She placed the board on the floor, in the center of the room. Then she grabbed the white candle she kept on the nightstand beside the bed.

  Sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the fireplace, she struck a match and held it to the wick. A flame lurched up from the center of the candle in a burst of light, before it settled into a smooth, even flicker.

  She took a few slow, deep breaths, inhaling through her mouth and exhaling through her nose. Watching the slow dance of the candle’s flame, she freed her mind from thoughts—trying to live in this moment and this moment only. Placing her fingers gently on the pointer, she began, “Dad, are you here? If you’re here, please let your presence be known.”

  She waited, her mind hyper-aware of every movement downstairs, every howl of wind outside, every branch that scratched her window. She watched the candle’s flame dance back and forth. “Dad, please talk to me again.”

  She felt the room temperature drop and a chill crawled over her skin. The pointer moved to each letter, spelling out the words: I’m here.

  Mykaela breathed out a sigh of relief. For a second, she’d thought he wasn’t coming back. “I still can’t find the killer. I know my instinct was right—he was there tonight—but he used a different Soul of the Sea as a diversion and got away. The couple died.”