Soul to Shepherd

by Linda Lamberson

Quinn looked doubtful. “As much as I’d like to say I feel as strong as Superman when I’m around you, right now, I feel pretty much the same as I did yesterday without you—well, strength-wise, that is,” he added with a wink.

  “I don’t feel any stronger physically either.”

  “Well, maybe they misunderstood what being true soul mates means … Or, maybe we’re not true soul mates after all,” Quinn said with a furrowed brow.

  “No, we’re true soul mates,” I stated unequivocally. “I’d bet my immortality on it. Our souls reach out towards each other in a way that’s different from other people. I’ve seen it. I’ve felt the connection between us when we kiss. What we have is stronger than anything I’ve ever heard of before.”

  “Then why haven’t we become the Wonder Twins yet?” he mused.

  “I don’t know,” I replied. “Tara just said as our bond grows, so does our strength.”

  “Well, our connection has never been stronger. You said so yourself.”

  “Maybe it’s still not strong enough.” My mind was searching for a logical explanation for all of this. “Or maybe we’re supposed to develop a different kind of connection, of energy, like a mental or emotional strength,” I threw out. “Maybe we’ll have some sort of inner strength rather than a physical manifestation of it.”

  “Yeah, well, unless we’ll be able to do Jedi mind tricks, I don’t think developing our ‘inner strength’ is going to cut it in another fight against the Servants.”

  My mind flashed to something else Tara told me—I’d always be physically stronger than Quinn as long as he was mortal, but, theoretically, he could become the power equivalent of me, or stronger, if we were both immortal. What if that meant the only way we could both realize our full potential, our true strength, was if Quinn were ‘lucky enough’ to one day become an immortal with a soul? Or, on the flip side, one without a soul? I shuddered at the thought.

  “Regardless of whether or not we actually become the ‘Wonder Twins,’ we’re together,” I said. “And we’ll figure out some way to get you off the Servants’ radar for good.”

  “And what about you?” he asked. “As I recall, you weren’t too high on their ‘nice’ list the last time we ran into them.”

  “First things first—we’ll keep you safely out of the demons’ clutches and then we’ll worry about me.”

  *

  Not quite ready to give up the freedom and refuge the portal afforded us, I offered to teleport to the local convenience store around the corner from Quinn’s old summer loft in Chicago and pick up a few things for him to eat and drink. I also wanted to use this as an opportunity to see if I could find Ronald.

  “Not so fast,” Quinn said, wrapping his arm around my waist before I could phase out of view. “I believe this belongs to you.” He smiled at me as he slipped something onto my left ring finger. I looked down at the engagement ring Quinn had given me last spring and smiled back at him.

  Quinn kissed me. “Don’t take too long.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.” I kissed him again and then phased out of view.

  I teleported to the alley nearest the convenience mart and turned the corner, hoping to see Ronald perched in his usual spot, but he wasn’t there. I picked up a few things and watched the door as I paid the cashier, practically willing Ronald to show up before I left—but no such luck.

  I returned to find Quinn clean-shaven and naked in the water. I dropped the shopping bag on the ground next to me and quickly disrobed, watching my clothes vanish into thin air, before diving into the water after him.

  “Was it something I said?” I smiled, gently running the back of my hand against his now-smooth jawbone.

  “I think it’s safe to say the scruff’s time had come and gone.”

  “What? Not working with the ladies?” I teased playfully, splashing him in the face just before he dove under the water only to reemerge behind me.

  “You know you’re the only lady for me.” He wrapped his arms around me.

  “Good answer.” I leaned back into him.

  “Is it true you were miserable up there without me?” he asked.

  “I’ve definitely had better days,” I said, trying to play it cool.

  “Dylan tossed around the idea of bringing you here to see me a couple of times.” Quinn sounded a little dejected, as if he thought I’d chosen not to visit him.

  I turned around in Quinn’s arms to face him. “I couldn’t leave the Archives. I was grounded, and Dylan knew that. But,” I continued in the same breath, “had I known Dylan’s plan, I would’ve risked getting caught sneaking out of the house if it meant I could’ve seen you.”

  “I couldn’t tell you,” Dylan chimed in as he materialized at the portal door.

  “Dude!” Quinn pulled me closer into his arms to shield my bare chest.

  “I didn’t want to risk the others finding out about the portal,” Dylan continued as if he hadn’t heard Quinn. “Prying minds and all. Besides, I didn’t want to be responsible for you getting an extended sentence. This guy would’ve beaten the crap out of me—or at least tried to,” he added, pointing casually at Quinn with his thumb.

  “Dylan!” I exclaimed in annoyed surprise. “How long have you been here?” I phased out of sight and reappeared on the shore, dried off and fully clothed.

  “Unfortunately, not long enough to see anything all that interesting, Kitty Cat.” He flashed me a wicked smile that made me wonder exactly how he defined “interesting.”

  “Some things never change,” I muttered telepathically.

  “Nope.” Dylan chuckled. “Well,” he continued aloud, “you’ll be happy to know your portal is still safe. No one knows about this place.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “The others might be able to shield their thoughts from me, but I doubt they’d be able to shield their actions. If they were aware of this place, they’d have followed me here by now. And in the past couple days, there haven’t been any questions about where I was headed, no one’s been tailing me, at least not successfully, and there haven’t been any signs of intruders up here.”

  “The past couple days is one thing,” Quinn remarked as he walked towards us with a towel wrapped around his waist. “But what about the past couple of months?”

  Realizing his mistake, Dylan threw me an apologetic look.

  “Um, Quinn,” I began sheepishly, biting my bottom lip. “Remember how I told you that time exists differently here in the portal than down on Earth?”

  “Yeah.” He nodded as he slipped on his board shorts under his towel.

  “Well, time is different up in Dylan’s and my realm as well.”

  “I’ll say,” Dylan snickered.

  “Shut up,” I snapped telepathically at Dylan, shooting him a nasty look.

  “What Dylan means is that Shepherds experience time at a different pace while in the Archives compared to when we’re on Earth.”

  “How much different?” Quinn asked hesitantly. His expression told me he already knew he wasn’t going to like my answer.

  Crap. I took a deep breath and mentally prepared myself for the fallout.

  “Okay, so, for you, we’ve been separated for a couple of months—”

  “Sixty-three days to be exact,” he clarified.

  “Right,” I took another breath and swallowed. “For me … it’s been more like sixty-three hours.” I cringed, waiting for his reaction.

  “You’re kidding me, right?” Quinn asked in disbelief, glancing at me, then Dylan, and then back at me. Neither Dylan nor I moved. “Let me get this straight,” Quinn continued. “You’re telling me that in your world, or realm, or whatever it is you call it, only a few days have passed?” The volume of his voice was increasing steadily. “I’ve been missing you every minute of every day for the past two months, wondering what was happening to you and if you were all right, and you’ve only had to miss me for what—a goddamned long weekend?!?” he exclaimed.

  “It f
elt much longer,” I whimpered in a pathetic attempt to empathize with Quinn.

  “Unbelievable,” Quinn muttered angrily under his breath as he stared at the waterfall with narrowed eyes.

  “Quinn,” Dylan jumped in on behalf of my defense. “Trust me when I tell you it was no cake walk up there for K.C. She caught a lot of flack for being with you and breaking the Rules. Not to mention, she needed most of that time, and a serious amount of help, to heal from the Servants’ handy work.” He briefly glanced at my back. “Not so sweet, if you catch my drift.”

  Quinn winced slightly, and I knew he was picturing my scars. He sighed before taking a deep breath to calm himself.

  “Dylan,” I piped in, desperate to change the subject. “Quinn said you already knew I was reassigned to his case, so you must’ve been able to read someone’s mind up there.”

  “Not exactly.”

  “What do you mean, ‘not exactly’?” I asked.

  “I have a source.”

  “A ‘source’?” Quinn and I asked in unison. Dylan’s response had thankfully changed the topic and tenor of the conversation.

  “Who?” Curiosity was bubbling up inside of me.

  “Just someone,” Dylan answered vaguely.

  “Oh man, it’s a girl,” Quinn called him out. “And not just any girl—you’re into her.”

  “Is Quinn right?” I asked, smiling. “Are you into someone?”

  “What would make you say that?” Dylan turned away to try to hide his flushed face.

  “Holy crap! You are!” I remarked in shock.

  Quinn laughed. “Dude, don’t tell me you went and got yourself a girlfriend!”

  “What? No! No way!” Dylan exclaimed, red-faced and flustered. A visible shiver ran through his body as if the very idea of being in a relationship freaked him out. “We’re just hanging out.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “And here I thought you were the poster child for commitment-phobes. I guess some things do change,” I noted.

  “All right, all right, ha, ha, ha!” Dylan huffed. “Can we just give it a rest, please?”

  “So, when do we get to meet this source?” I asked, thoroughly enjoying my making Dylan squirm—payback sometimes tasted so sweet.

  “I don’t know.”

  “What is it with you Shepherds and all your secrets?” Quinn asked.

  “It’s not that I want to keep her from you,” Dylan replied. “It’s just I don’t want her to get in trouble.”

  “Can you at least tell us how she knew when I’d be reassigned to Quinn’s case?” I asked.

  “She only knew that when you were back on deck, she’d be relieved of her assignment. She—she was Quinn’s Watcher.”

  “My ‘Watcher’?” Quinn asked.

  “Yeah, Watchers take over a case once a Shepherd has completed an assignment,” Dylan explained. “They make sure there are no loose ends or unforeseen events that could further compromise a human’s safety at the hands of the Servants.”

  “So, now that Evie’s back, I guess it’s safe to assume that there are some loose ends when it comes to me, huh?” Quinn observed.

  I nodded in confirmation.

  “So, what do the Servants want from me this time?” Quinn asked.

  “The same thing they wanted from you the last time they attacked,” I replied ambiguously.

  “Which is?”

  I had no idea how I was going to tell Quinn the Servants wanted to turn him into a soulless demon intent on destroying me and my kind. Not to mention, I knew Quinn wasn’t ready to hear it—at least not until I’d developed a solid game plan to stop the Servants and save him.

  “Which is?” Quinn repeated impatiently in the wake of my silence.

  I took a deep breath, and exhaled loudly. “They want to use whatever super strength they think you possess to their advantage.”

  “And just how do they plan on doing that?” Quinn asked.

  I sat there, silently figuring out what I should say.

  Quinn studied my face, my eyes. “Evie, what is it that you’re trying so hard not to tell me?”

  “K.C., what’s going on?” Dylan asked me telepathically, also trying to read me.

  “I don’t want to unintentionally mislead you by telling you things I don’t know yet.”

  “Then tell me what you do know.”

  “It’s not that simple. If you could just wait until I can get some answers, until I can be sure—” I begged.

  “How long?” Quinn demanded.

  “Not long—a week,” I threw out there.

  “No way. You have one day—my kind of day,” he added so there was no room for interpretation.

  “I can’t find out anything in one day. I need more time. Give me five days,” I countered.

  “Three,” Quinn rebutted.

  “Fine,” I huffed, although I was secretly relieved to avoid an argument.

  “One condition though,” Quinn threw in.

  Crap, I knew he wasn’t going to let this go so easily, I thought.

  “You’ve got to come clean. You have to tell me everything. No secrets.”

  I hesitated. “Okay.”

  “Okay.” He sounded equally hesitant.

  “Okay,” Dylan chimed in, unsolicited. “Well, can you at least tell us when this is all supposed to go down?”

  “I don’t know. The Incident Timer is blank—no flashing numbers, no scrolling dates. Nothing.”

  “So you’re basically telling us that you have no clue when the Servants will attack next?” Quinn asked.

  “No, none,” I confirmed. “Do you, Dylan?”

  “No,” he replied.

  “So, how do we find out?” Quinn asked.

  “We have to find Ronald,” I said decidedly. “He’s an Augur. He’s bound to know something.”

  “Great,” Quinn mumbled in discontent. He looked at Dylan. “If Evie’s closed-lipped about things, this guy is like a monk who’s taken a vow of silence.”

  Dylan chuckled a little. “Well, let’s hope he’s in a talkative mood.”

  “That’s if we can even find him. He wasn’t at the mart this afternoon, and I have no idea where to even begin looking for him.” I took a deep breath. “But in case we can’t locate Ronald right away, I think I have a back up plan. I want to meet with Tartuf.”

  “We’ve tried that route before, K.C., remember?” Dylan replied. “And we couldn’t find him—no one could. Face it, the guy is M.I.A.”

  “Tara knows where Tartuf is hiding. She’s already contacted him. Hopefully, he’ll be willing to return to the Archives and meet with me.”

  “First name basis with the boss lady, huh?” Dylan teased. “So, you’ve gone from being on the outs with the Council Tribunal to sitting all comfy-cozy with the Big Wigs on the inside?”

  “Oh, I’m still doing her bidding.”

  “Hey,” Dylan added, “the fact that she’s meeting with you when you’re not in trouble is pretty huge, let alone the fact that she’s helping you.”

  “I don’t think she has much of a choice in the matter. There’s too much at stake for her not to help. And anyway, I have a feeling Tartuf not only knows what the Servants want from Quinn but how they plan to get it,” I added, shivering within. “In the meantime, I need to find out everything I can from every available source we can locate.”

  “Well, it sounds like we have our work cut out for us,” Dylan remarked.

  “We?” I looked at him like he was completely insane for wanting to get involved in all of this again.

  “What?” Dylan asked when he saw my reaction. “With everything we’ve been through you don’t think I’m going to throw in the towel now, do you? Besides, I never got my chance to kick some demon ass!”

  “Thanks, man.” Quinn fist-bumped Dylan.

  “C’mon, K.C., we’ll be like the Three Musketeers again,” Dylan flashed me his best puppy dog eyes.

  “Leave it to you to want to be in a front-row seat on the butt-kicking
bandwagon to Hell,” I said.

  “You know it!” Dylan chuckled.

  Honestly, relief couldn’t even begin to describe what I felt knowing Dylan was on board. I’d already begun to feel seriously overwhelmed by how unprepared I was, and that wasn’t even taking into consideration how short-handed we were—even with Dylan’s help. I knew it’d be difficult enough to protect Quinn when I was around him, but what about when I wasn’t? Like if I ever ended up meeting with Tartuf? I couldn’t be in two places at once, and I couldn’t ever leave Quinn unguarded. And then there was the issue of my safety. If the Servants were out for my blood, then I had to constantly be looking over my shoulder as well.

  An idea popped into my head, and the more I entertained the notion, the more quickly I convinced myself it was the best way to protect Quinn.

  “Hey, have you received your first assignment yet?” I asked Dylan telepathically.

  “No.”

  “Do you want one?”

  “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, K.C.?”

  3. change of heart

  I teleported myself outside the Council Tribunal’s private chambers and knocked on the large wooden door.

  “Come in, Eve,” Tara called out. I tentatively pushed open the heavy door and entered the room. Rather than sitting behind the large, intimidating desk at one end of the room, Tara was reclined in one of the embroidered reading chairs by the window. I noticed her view overlooked the private Japanese garden she’d taken me to earlier.

  “I have good news,” she announced. “Tartuf has agreed to speak with you. He should be here shortly. I have taken the liberty of setting up an appointment for you to meet with him in one hour Aura time to discuss your predicament. Please see that you are in the Archives’ library at that time.”

  “Of course. Thank you for reaching out to him. Again, I really appreciate your help.”

  Tara nodded. I glanced at my watch. It was sixteen hundred hours Central Standard Time, or Mora, time. One hour in Aura time gave me one day on Earth, putting me back in the Archives at four tomorrow afternoon.

  “Was there something else you wished to discuss with me?” she inquired.

  “Umm, yes, I wanted to ask a favor,” I stammered slightly, unsure of how begin to my unusual request.