Soul to Shepherd

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Soul to Shepherd Page 24

by Linda Lamberson


  The rest of the ritual was equally as horrifying:

  The Chosen Mortal, now a devastated vessel bled dry from the atrocities inflicted upon both body and soul, is prepared under the iridescent glow in a vast sea of darkness for the ingestion of the bonded blood—the Servants’ Serum. The Mortal’s jaws are pried open for the Alchemist to introduce the tainted blood into the body. This, however, is no longer blood; it is acid designed to corrode the Mortal’s arteries, further ravaging the body as the toxin spreads from head to toe. With the last of his or her strength, the Mortal screams for mercy—only there is no relief to be had until the poison reaches the Mortal’s heart, causing it to surrender its last beat, causing the Mortal to surrender to an eternity of darkness.

  “Good morning,” Doug said cheerfully from behind me, startling me.

  “Whoa!” Luckily, I had enough self-control not to phase on the spot or leap twenty feet into the air.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Just wanted to go for a morning swim.”

  “No need to apologize.” I felt Minerva’s presence enter the pool house to check on me. “It’s my fault. I was so distracted by what I was reading I didn’t even hear you come in.” That was a new one for me. I should’ve been able to hear Doug brushing his teeth in the main house, let alone open the door to the pool house.

  “Must be a good book,” he noted, peering over my shoulder to take a peek as he sipped from his coffee mug. “What language is that?”

  “German.”

  “Wow—beautiful and smart. What exactly is it that you see in my little brother?” He winked at me playfully.

  “Most of the time I wonder what he sees in me,” I replied lightheartedly although my answer was sincere.

  “Don’t go telling him that!” he chortled. “Quinny doesn’t need his ego pumped up any more than it already is.”

  “Something tells me he’s become a little humbler over the past year.”

  “Is that how long you’ve been together?” Doug asked.

  “On and off.”

  “So, how’d you two meet?”

  “Psych class.” I paused for second and smirked before adding, “I think that’s when his ego was at an all time high.”

  “Oh, really.” Doug laughed heartily. It reminded me of Quinn’s laugh, and I smiled even wider. “Do tell.”

  “Let’s just say he didn’t like taking ‘no’ for an answer.”

  “That’s my brother for you. If he wants something, he won’t quit until he gets it or dies trying.” Doug looked at the door to see if anyone was coming and then leaned in towards me. “I’ll let you in on a little secret,” he continued in a lower voice, “I’ve always admired that about him.”

  “Well, last I heard, law school was no walk in the park.”

  “True,” he agreed. “Huh, maybe a little of him rubbed off on me after all.” With that, Doug set down his coffee mug and towel, took off his t-shirt, and dove into the water.

  As Doug swam lap after lap, I returned to reading about the conversion ritual:

  Once the heart stops beating, the conversion is complete. The Mortal will never again know what it is to be humane, moral, feeling, or Good. Depravity resides where civility once took shelter. To remain a Servant, however, the newly Converted must pay homage to the Divine Sire by committing the greatest of all sins—he must kill a mortal in cold blood. If it is believed that the Converted has the potential and conviction to become a leader within the clan, the sacrificial lamb is often a mortal child or family member.

  What the—?!? I tried to fight back the tears brimming in my eyes. Hell would have to freeze over twice before I’d let Quinn be subjected to one second of this sadistic ritual.

  “Doing some light reading?” Quinn good-naturedly teased from behind me, resting his hands on my shoulders before kissing the top of my head.

  I shrugged my shoulders without looking up at him. I didn’t want him to see the tears in my eyes. Of course, there was no fooling him; he knew I was upset before even seeing my face. He sat down next to me, lifted up my chin and saw my glistening eyes.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, concerned. He glanced at Doug swimming in the pool and tensed up a little. “Did Doug say something to upset you?”

  “No,” I insisted.

  “So, what is it?”

  “I—I can’t talk about it with you here,” I whispered. “Not today with your parents and Tommy arriving soon.”

  “Is that the Journal from Tartuf’s office?”

  I nodded in confirmation.

  “And something you read in there made you upset?”

  I nodded again. Quinn took the journal from my hands and flipped through the pages. “How many languages is this thing written in?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “And you can read all of it?” he asked in surprise.

  “Another superpower,” I joked weakly.

  “Evie,” Quinn crouched in front of me. He tucked a lock of hair behind my ear and then caressed my cheek. “Is anything you’ve read this morning going to affect us before we leave?”

  “No—I mean, it shouldn’t.”

  “Anything Dylan and Minerva need to be made aware of right now?”

  “No.”

  “Okay, then we’ll wait to talk about it until we’ve left. But,” he continued, holding up the Journal, “I don’t want you reading anymore of this thing ‘til then either.”

  “But it might have information that can help us,” I protested.

  “Great. We will have all the time in the world to figure it out tomorrow.” He began wrapping the twine around the Journal.

  “Tomorrow,” I repeated.

  “Yes.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay.” Quinn stood up and walked out of the pool house with the Journal, returning a minute later, empty-handed.

  “Where did you put it?”

  “I gave it to Dylan to put in our ‘vacation spot,’ which, by the way, is going to blow your mind.” He winked at me. Still feeling thoroughly overwhelmed and upset about what I’d just read, I could only force a pathetic little smirk in return.

  “You know what you need?” Quinn smiled impishly. I knew that look. Instantly, I knew what he was planning on doing.

  “Don’t even think about it!” I squealed. My warning went unheeded. Quinn picked me up and tossed me into the pool. He jumped in right after, kissing me underwater.

  We were still kissing when our heads broke the surface of the pool. I could hear Doug roar with laughter.

  “Man, Quinny, she’s gotta be way into you to put up with that crap.”

  “I am,” I replied, smiling at Quinn.

  Just as Quinn had suspected, the unexpected dip in the pool lightened my spirits.

  *

  “Umm, Quinn?” I called out to him while he was in the shower.

  “Yeah?”

  “Where am I going to ‘sleep’ tonight?”

  “In here, of course.” Quinn turned off the shower and walked out of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist.

  “Umm, yeah, about that.” I began fidgeting nervously, averting my eyes from his body. “I’m not so sure that’s such a good idea. I mean, you and me—in the same room where either of us could be, you know, naked. What’s your mother going to think?”

  “I’m sure she’ll be fine with it because I’ll be crashing in Tommy’s old room,” he replied, chuckling at my sudden bashfulness.

  “Oh.” I sighed in relief. “Okay.”

  “But don’t blame me if I pay you a late night visit.” He pulled me towards him and kissed me. “In fact, maybe we should go to the Falls right now for a little preview.”

  Some alone time with Quinn sounded good. Dylan and Minerva would stay behind and look after Doug. And the less time I had to be in this house, the less I thought about the family get together later on today. “What time does your parents’ plane arrive?”

  “One-forty-five.” Quinn
checked his phone. “That gives us just over three hours. Imagine the possibilities.” He raised his eyebrows.

  “Imagine the questions your brother will ask at the dinner table if we’ve disappeared off the face of the planet for that long.”

  “Hmm, you have a point.” He walked over to his bedroom door and opened it. “Hey, Doug?” Quinn called out. “Dougie, you up here?”

  “What?” Doug shouted from his bedroom at the end of the hall.

  “Evie and I are spending the day locked in my room with an invisible ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign out front, so don’t bug us.”

  “Go for it, man. Just be ready when Mom and Dad come home. You don’t want them interrupting any part of that.”

  “Noted. Later.”

  “Later.”

  Quinn closed the door and locked it again. Then he turned back to me and smiled victoriously. I just stared at him—speechless, mouth hanging open, and blushing from head to toe in embarrassment.

  “What?” he asked, oblivious. “Problem solved.”

  “How am I going to look at Doug later—in front of your parents—when you just told him that?”

  “Don’t worry. Doug assumes that’s all anybody does anyway. Trust me.”

  “Honestly, you’re not making this night any easier on me.”

  “Evie, don’t worry. My parents are going to love you.”

  “Just tell me. Are you planning on dropping any more bombshells on me in the next twenty-four hours?”

  “Hmm,” I saw his eyes twinkle a bit, and I squinted my eyes and pursed my lips in aggravation. “Fine, no more surprises.” He flashed me that new charming smile of his, and I immediately felt my frustration slip away.

  “What am I going to do with you?” I sighed.

  “How about you start by making the most of our ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign.”

  12. it’s just dinner

  We returned to the house only to learn Quinn’s parents’ flight had been delayed for a few hours. Rather than go out to dinner, Quinn’s mom suggested we have a casual family dinner at home, and Quinn and Doug were in charge of ordering from the Harrisons’ favorite neighborhood Italian restaurant.

  Already feeling calmer, I walked outside to enjoy the beautiful sun-filled summer afternoon only to find Doug sprawled out in a lounge chair reviewing for his exam.

  “Can I get you anything?” I asked him.

  “Nope, I’m good. Thanks, though.” He closed up his notes and smiled at me. He was definitely attractive—a slightly older version of Quinn with short brown hair. “I can’t wait until this exam is over.”

  “Do you have a job lined up?”

  “Yeah, at a boutique firm that specializes in defending clients who committed white-collar crimes.”

  “Don’t you mean allegedly committed?”

  “Ah, spoken like a true defense attorney.”

  “Yeah, well, my dad was a D.A. before going into private practice. When I was a kid, we used to play this game where I’d try to poke holes in his arguments when he was preparing for trial.”

  “Huh, well then maybe you should be taking this test for me.”

  “While your confidence in me is flattering, trust me, you don’t want me anywhere near that exam.” I chuckled.

  “Ever think of becoming a lawyer?”

  “I used to.” I shrugged.

  “What changed your mind?”

  I paused for a moment to think of the best way to answer his question. “My dad once told me life’s too short to be stuck behind the same damn desk all day long.”

  “I hear that. From what I’ve heard, law firms wave big, fat paychecks under your nose, hoping you don’t notice them slowly sucking out your soul each time you cash them.”

  I visibly shuddered.

  “Did I say something?”

  “No.” I smiled reassuringly. “It’s just—I was reading some pretty gruesome stuff when you surprised me this morning, and I guess the thought of ‘sucking out your soul’ hit a nerve.”

  “It is pretty gross, huh?” A disgusted expression crossed his face.

  “Yeah.” I nodded.

  “So, what are you going to do with yourself now?”

  “I’m still figuring out a few things.”

  “And would my brother be one of those ‘things’?”

  “Direct.” I bit my bottom lip nervously. “Something tells me you’re going to make a great lawyer.”

  “Well.” He chuckled. “I don’t know how a former D.A.’s family does things, but the Harrison boys don’t bring just anyone home to meet dear old Mom.”

  Anxiety crept up my throat as the significance of this evening began to set in deeper.

  “Don’t worry. You’ll be fine.”

  “What makes you think I’m worried?” I could hear my voice crack slightly, singlehandedly betraying my attempt to exude self-confidence.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” he chuckled again. “The glazed deer in the headlights look in your eyes, the sudden loss of all color in your face, the shaky voice.”

  “That bad, huh?” I just shook my head in defeat.

  “Look, if Quinny’s even half as into you as I think he is, my parents are going to like you. Besides, you’re lucky because another lovely lady will be joining us tonight—my nine-month old niece, Mary, who also happens to be my Mom’s only grandchild. So not all of the attention will be on you tonight.”

  “That’s good to know.” I grinned. I was curious to see Mary again and how she was doing since I’d healed her. “And what about you? You’re not bringing anyone to dinner?” I teased lightheartedly.

  “Not unless you have a sister.” Doug winked.

  *

  An hour before Quinn’s parents were due to arrive, I was anxiously pacing his bedroom floor.

  “M?” I whispered. “Are you here?”

  “What’s wrong?” She materialized in front of me.

  I sighed. “What in the world is Quinn’s family going to say when I don’t eat anything at dinner? They’re going to think I’m ungrateful or that I’m some sort of freak.”

  “Hmm. Well, then, you’re just going to have to eat.”

  “Great,” I whined, slumping down on Quinn’s bed. Peter once told me our immortal bodies weren’t designed to digest food, so whatever goes down must come back up—and it wouldn’t taste good on either trip.

  “You probably won’t have to eat more than a few bites. It’s not uncommon for girls to lose their appetites when they get nervous—and meeting a boyfriend’s parents for the first time definitely qualifies as unnerving, so I’m sure they’ll understand if you’re not all that ‘hungry.’”

  “Oh,” Minerva added. “And whatever you do, do not drink any alcohol—not even a drop. Really bad idea.”

  “Aside from the fact that I’m not even of legal drinking age, why else would drinking in front of Quinn’s family be a bad idea?”

  “Well, you know how we feel things a lot more intensely than do humans?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay, so imagine what the effect of alcohol would be on us.”

  “Oh.” I wrinkled my nose and furrowed my brow. “Ugly.”

  “Ugly and potentially dangerous for everyone around us. We could end up losing control and hurting someone.”

  “Got it. No alcohol—ever.”

  “You should be able to sip water periodically throughout the evening and still be okay. I’ve done it and ended up no worse for wear. I think it just gets absorbed into our bodies somehow. The food. Well, you’re going to have to suffer through that one for a while.”

  “Fun,” I said sarcastically.

  “Just remember it’s for a good cause.”

  “Good cause—right.”

  “At least their plane was delayed. Bought you a little more time,” Minerva asked.

  “It just delays the inevitable.”

  “True. But at least it’s a shorter ‘inevitable’ now.”

  I sighed heavily. “I really hope I’m
not making a colossal mistake by doing this. So much could go wrong tonight—in the next twenty-four hours.” I wasn’t just thinking about what Quinn’s parents would think of me, or tonight’s dinner. I was thinking of Tommy and Sam—what if they remembered me? And how about Mary? Was she all right? And what if the Servants decided to attack?

  “Dylan and you are going to be here the whole time, right? You’re going to be watching over everyone and everything to make sure we don’t have any unwanted visitors?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Okay, good.” I took a huge breath and exhaled loudly, but I was still a bundle of nerves.

  “So, change of subject,” Minerva stated in attempt to pull me out of my funk. “What are you thinking of wearing tonight?”

  “Nothing over the top—and nothing too plain or girly either. I’m going for simple and sophisticated.” Quinn’s mother always looked great. She dressed on the youthful side, but still appropriate for her age.

  “Okay, let me think about this for a minute.” Minerva slowly circled me. “I got it.”

  A few minutes later I was standing in a navy cotton sleeveless pencil dress that ended just above my knees, paired with a thin, short-sleeved sweater in dark brown. To finish the look, I wore a sliver chain with an infinity symbol in the center and a matching bracelet. Dark brown ballet flats finished off the look. I kept my makeup light and my hair down.

  “It’s perfect,” I muttered softly, looking at myself in the mirror on the back of Quinn’s door. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome,” Minerva responded, admiring her own handy work.

  “You must’ve been a fashion designer in your former life,” I said.

  “Hmm,” she mused. “That would’ve been fun.”

  We heard footsteps bound up the stairs.

  “That would be my cue,” Minerva noted. “We’re here if you need us. And remember—have fun. You’ll probably never see these people again, so don’t make such a big deal about it.” With that, she faded out of view.

  “Right. One-time deal. Never going to see them again. Have fun.” Unfortunately, repeating her advice wasn’t exactly helping me relax.

 

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