Soul Protector (Soul Protector Series)

by Amanda Leigh Cowley

  I got a small thrill every time he said my name.

  “Err yeah, no problem. I’m not switching again anyway, so it won’t be me causing trouble.” Right then I was just so happy to see him again, I would have agreed to anything.

  As Dan listened to my answer, I was surprised to see his brow creasing. He checked himself and his face softened again.

  “I’m glad you’re okay now. You had me worried last night. I wanted to stay with you longer, but I got called on a shout and I knew you were out of danger by then.”

  “A what?”

  “A shout, you know a rapid response job.”

  “Ooh, that sounds exciting.”

  I had hoped for more details, but he just smiled his lovely smile.

  “Can I get you a coffee?” I asked, remembering my manners.

  “I’d love one, but I’ll make it, you go and sit down. You need to rest.”

  Blimey, he was chivalrous and dominant, my favourite combination.

  I did as I was told, and sat down on the sofa while Dan wandered through to the kitchen. He obviously knew his way round the flat now, not that it was that difficult to find your way round the four tiny rooms.

  I was on such a high I found it impossible to sit still. He came back, I grinned to myself, listening to him opening and shutting cupboard doors. So much for needing a rest, all the energy which had left me earlier was back tenfold.

  I heard the kettle boil and a short while later Dan appeared at my side holding two chipped mugs of steaming coffee. He had taken off his stab vest, and I could see his muscles outlined underneath his t-shirt and imagined running my hands over the material. I blushed at the thought, hoping Dan couldn’t read my mind. The effect he had on me was unnerving.

  As if he could sense my discomfort, he broke the silence. “I assumed no sugar, seeing as you don’t have any.”

  “Oh, yes... No. Err, you don’t do you? Have sugar?” Oh God, I needed to get a grip. I was babbling like a mad woman.

  He grinned and shook his head, sitting down on the other side of the small two-seater. It was so old and battered; the middle of it drooped so you couldn’t help gravitating towards the person sitting next to you.

  Dan popped the mugs on the coffee table, and leaned back. I turned to face him better, trying to ignore the fact I was practically invading his personal space. As I saw his long legs stretched out, an image of Gulliver popped into my mind, the small furniture making him look out of proportion to his surroundings.

  “So, what was this shout all about then,” I asked, really hoping my heart would settle back into its normal rhythm.”

  “It’s an ongoing job. There’s a group of CSPs...”

  He must have seen my confused expression.

  “... Corrupt Soul Protectors. They’re all helping each other, so it’s easier for them to get by without getting detected. We need to track them down and force them to switch back. Each time we get a call they’ve been spotted, we have to drop everything and get there fast.”

  “But it’s dodgy if they’ve been switched a long time, right?”

  Dan nodded. “That’s why they work so hard to avoid us; they know what will happen. We were so close to getting one of them today.” He closed his eyes, and slowly shook his head, before carrying on. “We gave chase for ages, but somehow they managed to slip the net again. They always seem to get lucky.”

  “Well, they need to be lucky every time don’t they? You guys only need to be lucky once.”

  Dan gave a half-hearted smile.

  “So when you do eventually catch them, how will you get them to switch back?”

  I noticed his face cloud over, and his brow became creased again.

  “There are ways…” he paused for a second, struggling to find the right words. “…very effective ways, but you probably don’t want to hear the details.”

  I bit my lip. Why wouldn’t I?

  “Anyway, the big problem is finding them. Other Soul Protectors are the only people who can see the red auras, and as they have to be switched in the first place, the chances of spotting CSPs are incredibly slim. If we could just find out where they’re living...”

  I shuddered. I didn’t like to think of Dan out there, hunting them down. I decided not to think about it, so I buried my head in the sand and changed the subject.

  “I need to say thank you, Dan, for last night. You were great. If it wasn’t for you…”

  “Don’t,” he said, interrupting me, “I was just doing my job. If I hadn’t got the call, another monitor would have taken care of you.

  “Well it was you,” I could hear the emotion crackling in my voice. “And you probably saved my life.”

  He put down his mug and sat up straighter. “Okay, I’ll admit I was worried about you. I’ve seen Soul Protectors get to the dark orange stage before, but usually they knew what they were doing. It’s lucky that SP called us when he did, and we were in the area. If you’d stayed switched for longer... I don’t like to think how it would’ve turned out.”

  I felt myself frowning. He’d seemed so calm and self-assured during the whole incident; I found it hard to believe he’d actually been worried. If that was the case, he’d done a brilliant job of hiding it. And I was grateful. I’d been traumatised enough about the switch-back, and Dan had been the rock that got me through it. If I’d known he was anxious too, it would have been even more of a nightmare.

  I realised he’d stopped talking and was staring at me. I really should have looked away after a couple of seconds, but our eyes kind of locked together. The mood quickly changed as all thoughts of the previous night disappeared and the atmosphere became charged. It was so strong I felt the little hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

  After a few long seconds, Dan blinked and looked away. When he looked back his expression had returned to normal. He began talking again, using the same casual tone as before. I pulled my hair forward over my ears, hoping to distract from how shaky I felt. What was that all about?

  “But you’re all good now,” he was saying. “And you know the rules, so it shouldn’t happen again.”

  While he was speaking I managed to regain my composure, so when it was my turn to talk there was only the hint of a waver left in my voice.

  “It definitely won’t happen again. I told you, I’m not switching from now on.”

  “You sure about that? Never say never...”

  I smiled at his optimism. The only part of being a Soul Protector I was embracing was meeting Dan, the rest of it I was happy to leave behind.

  After arranging to pick me up for our trip to the Office on Friday, Dan left. I closed the door behind him and leant back on it, grinning from ear to ear.

  CHAPTER 7

  .

  Mum and Terry

  .

  On the Thursday morning, I’d had a text from Mum asking if I wanted to pop round for tea that night. I knew she’d been worrying about me since the whole Mike and Michelle thing blew up, and because I’d moved away from home she liked to check up on me regularly and make sure I was still eating and breathing.

  She said it would just be her and Terry, her boyfriend. I smiled to myself. Terry was a lovely man, and he clearly adored Mum. After everything she’d been through, I was so pleased she’d found someone to make her happy. I couldn’t help feeling torn though. As much as I wanted to see Mum and Terry, I didn’t fancy making small talk with Michelle if she turned up, allegedly out the blue.

  I sent a text to Mum to say I’d be there, but as long as it was only her and Terry. I hated making life difficult, but I just wasn’t ready to forgive Michelle yet. I hoped Mum would understand.

  ~

  Nisha was sorting through some courier packages as I entered reception that morning. The long shiny black hair that I wished was mine, fell forward as she leaned over the forms in front of her, blocking her view from anything other than straight ahead. She heard my footsteps, stopped what she was doing and looked up.

  “H
ey, Gracie, are you feeling any better?”

  “Yes, I’m all good now, thanks.”

  Her face lit up as she remembered something. “So who was this mystery fella who rang in for you yesterday?”

  I forced a laugh to give me time to think.

  “Oh him? He was just a friend… of my Mum’s,” I finished hastily.

  She narrowed her eyes as she looked me up and down. Nisha was gossip central in our office, and nothing happened without her knowing about it first.

  “You seem jumpy, Gracie Reynolds. What are you hiding?”

  “No nothing, honest. I’m just not feeling a hundred percent yet.”

  “Hmm. We’ll see,” she said, a sly smile forming on her lips.

  Damn. How did she do that? I knew she wouldn’t leave me alone until she found out more details. Well, she’d be in for a long wait.

  I stopped at the machine en-route to my desk and got a hot chocolate for Arthur and a milky coffee for myself. I popped Arthur’s drink on his desk and mouthed hello so as not to interrupt his phone call.

  When Camille finally made it into the office, she wandered over to my desk and without any form of greeting, threw some papers into my in-tray.

  “Oh sorry, Camille, love,” came the voice of Arthur on the other side of the privacy board. “I never heard you say hello. Old age is making me deaf. How are you today?”

  I bit my lip to stop giggling.

  “Um, yes, I’m fine Arthur thank you. And, erm, hello to you too, Gracie.”

  “Good morning, Camille.”

  She gave me a small nod, and hesitated. I thought for a minute she was going to stay and make small-talk, but she obviously thought better of it and headed back to her office.

  I shrugged and peered into my in-tray to see what gems she’d deposited. There were a couple of articles to proof and some receipts from restaurants she’d visited over the last month. I knew these weren’t business-related, but she’d stuck a post-it on the top with CLAIM scrawled in her spidery handwriting. Finally there was another post-it with ‘Gracie, buy Heat mag and Cava.’ No please or thank you.

  I groaned internally. She just loved to take the proverbial. Quite often, I had to stay late to finish proper tasks, while Camille ran out of the office mid-afternoon, inventing imaginary meetings or crises. Twice recently, Nisha who only worked on reception part-time, had spotted Camille out shopping with friends when she’d told us she was attending an important meeting.

  Even when she was actually in her glass-framed office, she would spend hours on the phone pretending to be taking a conference call, usually one that involved chatting and laughing with her mates.

  When I’d finished her tasks, I knocked on Camille’s closed office door.

  “Come in,” she commanded.

  She was on the phone and didn’t make eye contact. Instead she carried on her conversation, “No, I’m sure he’s going to be there tonight. What time are we meeting up?”

  When she noticed I was still standing there, she apologised to her caller and narrowed her eyes. “What are you doing, Gracie? Just put the shopping on my desk and the paperwork in my in-tray.”

  I did as I was told, waited for the acknowledgement, remembered it was Camille and backed out of the door, cursing under my breath.

  I couldn’t stay irritated for long though. A delicious shivery feeling descended at the thought of seeing Dan the following evening. Just thinking about meeting up with him was enough to make me forget about everything else.

  ~

  On the journey out of town, one of the giant billboards beyond the traffic lights caught my eye. I think it was advertising soft furnishings. In the picture a little girl was sat on an L-shaped sofa with her dad. He was smiling, and she looked like she was having a fit of giggles. It triggered a memory of my own, of me and my dad when I was about six years old.

  Dad had been sitting in his favourite armchair, reading the paper. As I tried to tiptoe past him, he dropped his paper and scooped me up onto his lap. He turned me to face him and asked about my day at school. I tripped up my words, concentrating hard not to say the wrong thing and upset him. Then he smiled and told me what pretty green eyes I had.

  Beaming from ear to ear, I’d looked across to Mum in the kitchen and was thrilled to see she was smiling as well. With his eyes all shiny, Dad told me what an amazing little girl I was, and how proud he felt that I was his daughter. After he said this, to my horror, he buried his head in my school jumper and sobbed his heart out. My smile dropped instantly and I’d glanced up at Mum for reassurance. She was still watching and smiling, but tears were streaming down her cheeks too.

  ~

  As I got closer to Mum’s and left the city behind, the landscape changed dramatically. The concrete jungle fell away to reveal green fields, and vibrant colours as the trees and bushes went through their rainbow of autumn colours.

  When I entered the sleepy neighbourhood that I still classed as home, I was pleased to see the familiarity of Mum’s three-bed, ivy-clad semi. I instantly felt myself relax. From the age of nine, this place had been my sanctuary. Mum, Michelle and I had shared many happy times here.

  I let myself in through the front door, and was greeted by the mouth-watering aroma of roast lamb. It didn’t matter what day of week it was, when you visited Mum, you knew you would be having a roast. I wasn’t complaining.

  “Hi, it’s only me,” I called out, heading into the kitchen.

  As I entered the sunshine yellow room, I wasn’t surprised to see Terry helping Mum with the cooking. He was sticking a skewer into the joint, and she was turning over some crispy roast potatoes, the fat sizzling away in the oven tray.

  Duran Duran filtered out through the CD player on the window sill, and the glass behind was all steamed up.

  Mum glanced up, smiling. “Hello love, be with you in a minute.” Then she turned her attention back to the task at hand.

  Although in her late forties, she looked a good ten years younger. Her short hair was dyed deep reddish brown. She was fit, thanks to her regular Pilate’s sessions, and she always dressed well, not too young for her age, but still, clothes that I wouldn’t mind pinching off her.

  “Good to see you, Gracie,” said Terry, handing me a small piece of the lamb he had cut off to taste.

  He was average height for a man and fairly slim, although I noticed he had succumbed to a spot of middle-age spread. His dark hair was peppered with grey, and he had kind eyes.

  I popped the lamb in my mouth, and it practically melted on my tongue.

  “Perfect,” I announced, leaning up to give him a quick peck on the cheek.

  It was funny how he and Mum had found each other. She’d been single for years, not that it bothered her, but all that changed a couple of months previous when a salesman turned up on her doorstep. She wasn’t interested in changing her energy supplier thank you very much, but she certainly connected with the sales rep, Terry.

  I’d been wary of him at first. Mum had been through so much over the years, and I was very protective of her. But Terry had won me over with his easy banter and kind ways. He was a gentle soul, and he and Mum liked nothing better than staying in cooking meals together and watching DVDs. He was even happy to give her foot rubs on demand.

  “Won’t be long now,” Mum said, her eyes giving me the motherly once-over, “so, what’s new?”

  I shivered as memories of the past few days fleeted across my mind. The words ‘I switched bodies with Lydia,’ sounded too ridiculous, so I concentrated on the other big event.

  “Phil proposed to Lydia at the weekend.”

  Mum’s eyes widened. “He did? And did she say yes?”

  I nodded.

  She paused for a minute, studying my expression. “That’s fantastic news, isn’t it?”

  I cringed inside as I remembered how jealous I’d felt on the night.

  “Yeah it is. It’s really great.”

  “Well good for Lydia. And you darling, you deserve some g
ood luck soon. It’ll come your way, I just know it,” she put her arm round me and gave me a gentle squeeze.

  I shrugged. “I’m okay, Mum.”

  “Of course you are sweetie, you’ve just had a few knocks lately that’s all.” She tactfully changed the subject. “I had an email from Sally, you know Kath’s daughter from up the road. She’s leaving Perth at the weekend and moving up to the Gold Coast.”

  “Yeah, I read it on Facebook.” I sighed as I thought of Sally having the time of her life, just drifting along in Australia, picking up work when it was available. What a lovely carefree existence. It seemed ironic we were able to discuss the neighbour’s family, but didn’t feel able to talk about our own. Mum didn’t offer any news about Michelle, so I chose not to ask.

  “Dinner’s ready,” Mum called, ushering us through to the dining room. It was a small room, perfectly square with patio doors on one side; leading through to the garden she spent so much time nurturing. With the table and chairs crammed around the rectangle table, there was barely enough room left to squeeze into your chair, but once you were seated, it was very comfortable.

  Mum and Terry brought in serving dishes of steaming food, and set them down in the middle of the table. After helping myself to way too much, I began tucking in, drifting in and out of their easy conversation.

  A picture on the wall caught my eye. It was of Michelle and me when we were small, standing outside the back door of our old house. I was once again transported back to my childhood, to the time when we lived with Dad. I could still remember having the picture taken. It was one of those spur of the moment, natural shots. We’d been out playing in the garden and came running up to the house to clean up before tea. I can’t even remember what we’d been laughing about, but it must have been funny because Mum heard us from inside the kitchen and rushed to get her camera. That picture of us, all wild hair and grubby knees, was her favourite. To a perfect stranger it looked like we were happy kids from a normal happy family. But things couldn’t have been further from the truth.

  That picture was taken around the time Mum used to try and hide her bruises and pretend everything was okay, the time when we lived in fear of Dad and whatever he would do next.