Bound by Legend: A Bound Novel

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Bound by Legend: A Bound Novel Page 2

by A. D. Trosper


  She winced as she chewed, her teeth aching from the earlier hits. If she wasn’t so hungry, she would’ve put off eating for at least a day. Morgan pulled the water bottle from where it rested inside her inner coat. Only half full. She would have to fill it again soon. Lucy seemed content to drink from puddles or eat snow, though Morgan hated that the dog had to. Lucy should have a nice dish and soft bed to lie on. Even so, Morgan couldn’t bring herself to make the hike to the humane society and leave Lucy in their hands.

  She’d found the dog sitting alone and collarless in the park shortly after going back to the streets. Morgan had hung around the park for three days sharing her food with the dog and waiting for someone to come looking for the Rottweiler. Surely a dog that looked like a purebred had a person that missed her. No one ever came and when Morgan moved on from the park, Lucy had come with her.

  She watched the dog eat, thankful once again for her friend. Her one true friend since Arabrim. Morgan tried to push the memories of the dark angel from her mind. He’d been the first one to know about her abilities. Now he was dead and she was on her own against the demons. Although it helped when she kept moving, she could still sense them, and if she stayed in one place too long, they sensed her. A sensor, that was what Arabrim had called her. In other words, a demon radar.

  The Higher Powers would no doubt assign a free agent soon, though Morgan had no intention of getting another dark angel killed. Whoever they sent could just get over themselves, she was doing fine on her own.

  Flickers of memories from her past two lives made their way through her mind. In her first life, she’d died very young. In her second life, she’d lived to be an old woman, her powers new and weak. The memories from that life were dim and sketchy. The memories from the first were few and blurred. Even so, there was no doubt in her mind they were all centered around this same place.

  Why three lives in the same area, she had no idea. Most channels were born and lived in different places. Perhaps it took a few lives to break free of the first location. Either way, she could remember when Denver was nothing more than a few shacks in the shadow of the Rocky Mountains.

  After finishing another partially frozen cheeseburger and giving two more to Lucy, Morgan took a quick drink of the cool water before tucking it back underneath her inner coat where her body heat would keep it from freezing.

  Red and blue lights flashed across the front windows. Crap, someone must’ve seen her. With Lucy on her heels, she ran back to the basement and paused at the window to listen. Since they had just pulled up, they were likely radioing in the fact that they had arrived at the location.

  Moving quickly, she climbed into the window well and tossed the backpack up into the snow then made room for Lucy to jump up with her. Grunting with the effort, Morgan lifted the dog to where she could scramble onto the ground. After climbing up after the dog, Morgan snatched the backpack from where it lay and ran to the chain-link fence at the back of the yard, throwing the pack over ahead of her. Bracing her hands on the top rail, she jumped and swung her legs over. Lucy followed with ease.

  Morgan moved at a jog through the neighborhood, cutting through several yards before finally coming out on a main road where she slowed to a walk. Lucy panted happily beside her. Maybe she would hit the tower tonight. It would offer a chance at some warmth.

  Until then, they needed to get out of the wind that had picked up. Choosing the recessed, south facing doorway of a closed business on a side street, Morgan pulled the battered paperback she’d found in the trash a couple days ago out of the backpack and snuggled close to Lucy while she waited for the soup kitchen to open. Lucy wasn’t allowed inside, but Sister Becky would hand Morgan a bowl of soup and a dinner roll out the back door.

  Occasionally, someone would pass the doorway. Their coats clutched tight about them, they hurried by. Most didn’t see her at all. The rest would glance at her and then carefully look everywhere except at the place she huddled out of the falling snow. Morgan ignored them for the most part. She was used to being invisible.

  LUCIAN, WHAT A surprise!” Isobel smiled and swung the front door open wider to let him in, allowing a blast of freezing air into the warm house.

  Damien came out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a small towel. “Good to see you again. To what do we owe the pleasure?”

  Lucian shook the snow from his golden hair and stepped into the house. Isobel hugged him in welcome and he returned it, happy to see her again. “I’ve been traipsing all over the city for three weeks trying to find my new channel.”

  Isobel raised her eyebrows and tucked her long, mahogany hair behind her ears. “New channel? You’re no longer a free agent?”

  “Apparently not. Except she’s nowhere to be found.”

  “She’s going to need a dark angel to help her.” Isobel’s brow crinkled, concern in her sea green eyes.

  Lucian sighed and removed his coat. Isobel hung it up as Damien led him into the front room. Once Isobel joined them, Lucian sat in a soft chair and his friends on the sofa. “She did have one. A demon-possessed caught him while he and my new channel were battling a group of demons one night. The possessed took her dark angel’s head. He was dust within hours.”

  Isobel gasped. “And the channel?”

  “To her credit, according to the information I was given, she didn’t waste any time. She killed the human and then banished the demon when it exited the body. She’s been on her own since then.”

  “You have no other information?” Damien asked.

  Lucian rubbed his forehead in frustration. “I can’t find anything on her. No job, no house, nothing.”

  “Can’t the Higher Powers help you?” Isobel’s expression was one of confusion.

  Damien shook his head. “They aren’t on speed dial. They come to us with the details; it’s up to us to sort it out.”

  “I know her birthdate and what she looks like. Her name is Morgan Brooks. Her dark angel was Arabrim. The rest of the information from the Higher Powers was useless by the time I made it here.”

  Isobel stared at him, shock plain on her face. “Morgan is still alive? Damien sensed Arabrim pass into waiting. When we couldn’t find Morgan afterward, we thought she had joined him there.”

  “You know Morgan?” It was his turn to be surprised and he couldn’t help the hope that rose in him only to be quickly dashed. If they thought Morgan was dead, then they had no idea where she was either.

  “Of course we know her. Denver isn’t so big that two channels wouldn’t find each other. Especially with the plethora of demons.”

  Lucian rubbed his hands over his face. “Where could she be that she has remained hidden from you?”

  Isobel shook her head, a pensive expression on her face. “Morgan is a sensor. She knows where the demons are and can sense when we’re close as well. It’s possible she has been avoiding us on purpose, though I can’t imagine why.” She looked up with worry in her green eyes. “We’ll help you look for her. Where are you staying right now?”

  “In a motel. I planned on buying a house as soon as I got here, but I’ve been too busy looking for Morgan to even think about it.”

  “We have two extra bedrooms, you’re welcome to crash here until you can find something else,” Damien said, his blue eyes serious.

  “I thank you for that and will gladly take you up on the offer.” Lucian leaned back against the couch, worry for his new channel filling him. Where the hell could she be? She wasn’t dead, that he knew. Bound as her dark angel, he would sense it the moment she died. “I just wish I knew where Morgan is. I can’t imagine where she would be, unless she’s on the streets somewhere. Without a job anywhere and with Arabrim’s house already sold, it’s the only thing I can think of.”

  Isobel frowned. “I sincerely hope not. The weather has been brutal, how would she survive?”

  “She still lives, and I don’t like that she’s been facing any of the demons I’ve seen in this city on her own. It takes more than jus
t one channel to bust a bunch of demon heads when they start grouping together,” he shot a glance at Isobel, “usually.”

  Damien leaned back, one arm propped along the back of the sofa. “I can speak with some of the Catholic churches. After my search here last year for the vial of blood, I’m acquainted with all of them. Perhaps one of them has seen her.”

  “There are also extensive options for the homeless in Denver,” Isobel said as she linked one of her hands into Damien’s. “I will check with the various groups.”

  Damien shot her a worried look that Lucian read with little difficulty. His friend didn’t want Isobel traipsing around by herself in places that demons might also be hunting the lone Morgan.

  Isobel rolled her eyes. “I will, of course, be very careful and leave most of it to you two.”

  Lucian raised an eyebrow. “You are willingly stepping back to let us do the lion’s share of the searching? What’s the catch?”

  “Don’t be silly, Lucian. I really don’t want to spend all of my time tripping over the two of you while you try to protect me and search for Morgan at the same time. It will go faster if I just let the two of you have free rein. Besides,” Isobel smiled, “there are other things I can do. While you two search for Morgan, I will house hunt for you, Lucian.”

  Surprised, Lucian raised his eyebrows. “You want to house hunt for me?”

  “There are a couple in this neighborhood if you’re interested. Anything in particular you’re looking for?” A soft chuckle passed her lips. “Since my powers have grown more, I can even tell you if the house is haunted.”

  “I will gladly accept your help with that. As far as what I’m looking for, I don’t know. I’ve been a free agent for so long, I’ve just stayed with whoever I’ve been helping.” He shrugged his shoulders trying to think. “I guess a roof and walls and stuff. You know, a house. This neighborhood is fine. Oh, doors would probably be good.”

  Isobel laughed. “I’ll see what I can do as far as making sure it has a roof and walls and stuff. Should be fairly easy, since those are pretty standard fixtures in houses. It might cost you for the doors though.”

  Lucian gave her a half-grin. It faded to a frown. “You’ve lived here all winter; tell me, is the level of demons I’m seeing typical?”

  “Well, there is a reason we’re in this city.” Damien shrugged. “However, it has become more and more active over the last three months. Something is drawing them here. I’m starting to feel an upper-level demon is involved. Maybe not one of Xapar’s rank, but one just under him in the Underworld hierarchy at the very least.”

  “All the more reason to locate Morgan as soon as possible.” Lucian suppressed his mounting anxiety. No channel should have to face the demons alone. “According to the information from the Higher Powers, Morgan isn’t a new soul. She’s had two previous lives which she does have the memories from and she knows how to use her power, so she has that going for her at least.”

  Isobel nodded. “Oh yes, we fought alongside Morgan and Arabrim. She can kick some serious butt.”

  Damien stood. “How about I go with you to the motel to get your things, then you can spend the night here and have dinner with us. If you want, we’ll even swing by a couple of the churches and see if anyone knows of her.”

  “Sounds like a plan. The only plan I guess.” Lucian got to his feet, weariness washing through him. He hadn’t slept in two days. Maybe time spent among friends would ease his worry.

  They both donned their coats, though it was hardly necessary. Dark angels could regulate their own body temperature. In the interest of blending in, it made more sense to wear them. The snow continued to fall thick and heavy as they climbed into Lucian’s car. The vehicle started smoothly and he backed it down the driveway.

  The road workers were already having enough of a time trying to keep up with the main roads and highways, the side roads were still clogged with snow and Lucian drove carefully. The streets were deserted for the most part. Occasionally he saw someone slogging down one of the sidewalks. It was impossible to tell due the hats and scarves if any of them were Morgan.

  Their stop at the motel was short. Like all dark angels, he traveled light. It didn’t take long to check out and head back to the vehicle. The first two churches they stopped at yielded no results. Both offered to keep an eye out for her and call him if they saw any young homeless women that looked like her.

  “There is one more. It’s a little off our return path, but I’m game if you’re game,” Damien said as they pulled back onto the road.

  “Point the way.” Lucian glanced at Damien, appreciative of his longtime friend.

  He navigated the roads that grew more treacherous with each passing minute until they reached the indicated church in a dilapidated area. Through the heavily falling snow and the darkening evening, it was hard to see what it looked like.

  As they waded through the thick, white wetness Damien said, “We might have more luck here. They regularly have a soup kitchen for the homeless. I should have thought about it earlier, it will be almost over at this hour.”

  “Someone may still have seen her.”

  The warm smells of food and the less appealing, lingering smell of unwashed clothes and bodies clung to the interior of the soup kitchen. One of the nuns looked up. “I’m sorry, the kitchen as already closed down.”

  She looked them up and down as if confused by their presence, which Lucian supposed he understood given that neither he nor Damien looked in need of anything.

  Lucian glanced around the kitchen, only a couple of diners lingered and one was in the process of leaving. He turned back to the nun. “I’m looking for a young woman, about five-five, dark brown hair, hazel eyes, nineteen years old.”

  The nun eyed him warily. “I’m afraid I can’t help you.”

  Her eyes flickered away from his face and then back. She was lying. A nun who lied, who knew. No, wait, she didn’t say she didn’t know anyone who looked like that, she said she couldn’t help him. Way to skirt around the truth, sister.

  He thought of pushing it further with her, but something about the closed, guarded look in her eyes and the stubborn set of her jaw told him her answer wouldn’t change. That was fine; her lie had told him the truth.

  He nodded. “Thank you.”

  Turning, he walked over to the table where a dark-haired man sat with more age showing in his eyes than a man who looked to be in his mid-thirties should have. Lucian posed the same question. The man looked at him with steady gray eyes. “Nope, never seen one like that. Young women aren’t normal on the streets. They can usually fall back on an…older profession if need be to find someplace warm.”

  Though his gaze didn’t waver, something in the man’s tone sounded off. “Thank you…what did you say your name was?”

  “I didn’t say. If you must know, it’s Jake.”

  Lucian nodded. “Thank you for a moment of your time, Jake.” He tossed a handful of hundreds on the table. “Find someplace warm to get out of the weather.”

  Jake barely glanced at the money. “I still don’t have any information to give you.”

  “I’m well aware of that.” Lucian turned and walked away with Damien right behind him.

  As soon as they stepped out the door into the miserable night Damien chuckled. “They were both lying.”

  “Jake was, yes. The nun didn’t lie.”

  His friend raised an eyebrow. “Oh, how so?”

  “She told me she couldn’t help me, not that she didn’t know anyone by that description.” Lucian smiled. “She’s been here. While that’s more than a little disconcerting considering it means she is definitely on the street and in a bad area, it also gives me hope we will find her soon.”

  They climbed into the car and as Lucian started it, Damien asked, “Do you want to wait and follow Jake?”

  Lucian shook his head and put the vehicle into reverse. “Not tonight. For one, Isobel will be chomping at the bit for your return soon. And for an
other, we have no way of knowing how long he plans to stay, or if he will slip out another door with the assistance of the nun, or if he will even try to seek Morgan out tonight. I imagine some sort of shelter will be his main concern.”

  “I will check around tomorrow and see if I can find out if there are certain places the homeless congregate,” Damien said. “Don’t worry, we’ll find her.”

  MORGAN TRUDGED THROUGH the ever deepening snow along the river toward the tower with Lucy at her side. The tower wasn’t really anything special. It was one of three old industrial buildings that rose several stories. Abandoned for years and completely boarded up in the front, it became a place where the homeless who either didn’t want to go to a shelter or who couldn’t get into one often gathered during especially cold or nasty weather.

  She pushed her way through the still-empty branches and crossed the road. Two rusted, sagging chain link gates were supposed to keep people out. Morgan easily pushed through the gap created by the sag then held it open for Lucy before crossing the broken parking lot. Large clumps of last summer’s weeds stuck up through the snow. The matching buildings to the left and right of the tower were mostly crumbled messes of their former selves. A fire had taken the interior and roof of the east building. It wasn’t clear what had wreaked havoc on the west building. The center one, the building named “the tower” by others like her, stood intact.

  The narrow alley alongside the building led to a small, rusted door that hung from one hinge. Morgan stepped past the door and into the cavernous space beyond. Several barrels were set around on the cracked, cement floor with fires in them. Anything that could be gleaned from nearby areas to burn, had been. Trash, limbs from along the river, a small wooden chair missing one leg, and other miscellaneous items were piled around to add to the barrels as needed.

 

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