Broken Soul: A Jane Yellowrock Novel

by Faith Hunter

  Price, Beast thought at me. Price is high. Must stop now.

  I left Peregrinus fighting the two vamps, knowing that Bethany had been thwarted in whatever her goals might have been. Bruiser and the other Onorios would protect Leo, Katie, and Grégoire, no matter what Bethany might have wanted or planned. And without the crystal, without riding the arcenciel, and without the Devil, Peregrinus was done.

  I looked at the thing hanging on the wall of Leo’s dungeon, believing in my gut that it needed to be beheaded. Beast’s fear response might be the only proof, but I trusted it more than I trusted logic or evidence. Of all the things in the dungeon, in the sub-five basement, that psycho thing needed killing. I couldn’t get there, do the deed, and get the arcenciel up, outside, and free before I died, however, not without blood in my veins, so that was a moral decision I didn’t have to make.

  I took the crystal to the elevator shaft and looked up. I could see part of Eli’s face, a few floors up, leaning over the edge and trying to get a view. He had probably heard the Judge fire by now.

  Still in the gray place of the change, the energies moved around me like black fireflies, but slower, jerky, not fluid and smooth. I bent and set the crystal on the clay floor. I snapped open the pocket on the thigh holster Bruiser had given me and pulled out the hatchling’s scale and set it beside the crystal.

  I shouted, “Soul! I’ve got the hatchling!”

  From behind, I heard a sound, a single ringing bell, as sword blade impacted sword blade. The note rang out for what felt like seconds, low and deep and sonorous. Above me, a ray of light appeared and illuminated the shaft. A flashlight had been turned on and was shining down.

  From the dungeon came the low, deep clang of swords and the first boom of the Judge reverberating. Time was catching up with me.

  I knelt, pulled a vamp-killer, and reversed it. I brought the hilt down on the smoky crystal. It shattered slowly with tiny cracks and splits and a near-metallic clang. A black metallic claw emerged, followed by a shoulder and wing, all metal, and covered by spines. It occurred to me that, for the moment, the dungeon might be the best place for me. I backed away, back into the scion lair, as time in the Gray Between, and the bubble of time around the previously imprisoned arcenciel, synchronized into its own version of slo-mo.

  The imprisoned arcenciel leaped from the crystal quartz into the air. In midflight, her wings beginning to spread, she changed from metallic to a rainbow of lights. Landed on the floor of the elevator shaft several floors above, next to Eli’s head, still looking down. Lights like a dozen rainbows shifted from her like pixie dust. She called, a ringing, silver tone, like the sound of a thousand bells and the warmth of sunlight. She looked back once and met my eyes. She called again, the sound like carillons ringing. With a leap, she flew out of sight, toward the outer door, which Eli had left open and unguarded for just this moment. I fell to my butt, the pain wrenching as if I were being cut in two. I had committed murder tonight, killed without combat, with sneak attack. An assassination. The death roiled in my stomach and burned there like acid. The Devil had needed to die, but her life and death sat on my soul like weights.

  I understood why Joses had worn an arcenciel. I understood why vamps wanted them. Riding one let them do, in a limited way, what the arcenciels and Beast could do naturally—enter the Gray Between and move outside of time. But without the pain of the price placed on me/us by an angel.

  For now, Joses was a prisoner, and the arcenciel was free. It might not be perfect, but it was good enough.

  Now no one had access to folded time, to time bubbles, but me—if I was willing to nearly die—and my Beast. And the arcenciels.

  And maybe the Anzû.

  Crap. I sheathed my blade. Oh well. Nothing was perfect. Nothing.

  I vomited blood one last time, falling forward onto the clay floor beside the scale left behind by the arcenciel and the shattered crystal prison. I bounced, my head turned to see into the battleground. My hand landed beside me, still holding the Judge. My skin was white-white-white, bluish, nearly purple, empty of blood and low on oxygen. And still my guts pulled and tore and the sick taste of blood and stomach acid coated my mouth.

  Change, Beast thought at me. Now.

  Reaching into the Gray Between, I sought her form. Time began to slide forward in blocks of action, quaking, trembling motions still too slow for reality. The explosion of the Judge still echoed. The screams of battle ripped across my eardrums, faster now. And again, faster still, as time began to unfold.

  A light as bright as a phosphorescent torch lit the elevator shaft. Peregrinus danced back, and back, into the light, his feet moving around me where I lay. The fight followed him, his men firing, the sounds like a dozen bass drums beating all at once.

  In the same instant, the Devil fell and Grégoire whirled and leaped to cut across Peregrinus’ torso. Brother fighting brother, the oldest tale of them all. Peregrinus’ knees buckled, but he wasn’t finished. The vamp was too strong, too old, too powerful for most weapons. He had, after all, brought the Devil back to life. Moving as if my hand weighed fifty pounds, I released the Judge and pulled the bag holding the sliver of the Blood Cross. Ripped the bag free from my neck. Slid the pointed end from the drawstring opening.

  I gripped the sliver through the bag, careful not to touch it, my hand shaking as if I were dying. I thrust the splinter of wood forward, through the seam of his fighting leathers, into Peregrinus’ calf.

  Still caught in the remnants of the time warp of the Gray Between, I saw a tiny explosion of fire at the point of impact. The progression of burn as the vampire began to burst into flame. A heated glow I could feel on the skin of my fingertips and my face. The power thrust through his body into his veins, into his arteries. Instantly, he blazed. His whole core lighting with power. With the heat of the sun. For a long while, I could see his bones, his ribs, the shape of his pelvis and shoulders.

  Peregrinus slowly dropped to his knees. He wrenched back his head and screamed.

  And he burned. And burned. Bright against my retinas. Lighting the darkness of the dungeon.

  He fell. Landing beside me, too close, the heat like a phosphorous flare, scorching my skin. I closed my eyes as he burned into dust.

  Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, I thought.

  I lifted my head and met the eyes of the Son of Darkness. Within the energies of the Gray Between, I said, “I don’t need or want anything you have to offer. Not now. Not ever.” I didn’t know whether he heard me, in the bubble of folded time, and I didn’t care; I simply needed to say the words. I tucked the sliver of the Blood Cross into my gorget and let Beast pull me into the change. Pain like flaming silk flowed along my bones and through my veins. I shifted. I changed.

  • • •

  Screams and sounds of guns hit Beast ears. Fire burned tips of Beast pelt. Beast rolled. Lay twisted in Jane clothes. Gorget too tight on Beast neck. Choking. But sliver of cross weapon was in gorget. In Beast’s care.

  Beast clawed out of Jane clothes and leaped away from burning body. Rushing through dark room, close to thing on wall, to open doorway and up narrow stairs, racing like climbing cliff. Human met Beast in hallway and opened door. I crouched and snarled, showing killing teeth, smelling Jane-kin. Not blood kin, but kin in human ways. Ways of choice. Jane trusted human Eli like littermate. Eli stepped away from door, hands out to sides, empty of weapons—human sign of not fighting. Beast crawled on belly to open door. Was sleeping den of Del.

  Opened mouth and pulled in air with scree of sound. Smelling, tasting, knowing room was empty. Beast gathered paws close and leaped inside, to land in middle of bed. Fresh cloths covered bed, smelling of sweetness instead of Jane sickness. Beast lay still, staring at door, at Eli. “You want me to loosen the gorget?” he asked. “It looks tight.”

  I hissed at him, showing killing teeth. Jane’s weapon. Stay away or Beast will hurt you.

  Eli touched his head in way that meant nothing to Beast. “I’ll bring you a
steak in just a bit,” he said. He closed door.

  Beast is hungry. Steak is good. Bison is better.

  • • •

  Beast woke, knowing. Smelled mate. Smelled Bruiser. Memories of Bruiser and Jane and mating scents filled mind. Had marked mate. Had been marked by mate. Ear tabs flicked. Beast stared at door. Waiting. Patient predator. Gathered paws close. Heard Bruiser voice on other side of door.

  Door opened. Bruiser came in. Beast showed killing teeth. Did not ask you into den. Beast narrowed eyes at mate, hissing, remembering. Bruiser went away with priestess. Bethany. Vampire was good hunter. Trying to take mate? Bruiser was Beast mate. Snarled. My mate!

  Bruiser scent changed. Foot kicked plate on floor, plate smelling of blood and cow. Had been good blood and cow. Heated. Eli had put salt on cow meat. Liked salt. Bruiser looked from Beast to plate and back.

  Bruiser moved slow. Closed door behind him. “Jane?”

  Growled, snarled. Am Beast. Jane sleeps in den of mind. Am Beast!

  “I don’t know if you can hear me but . . .” Bruiser scent changed again. Grew warm. Possessive. “You are utterly beautiful.”

  Beast chuffed. Lifted tail tip into air. Covered killing teeth with lips. Stared at mate. Good mate. Beast opened mouth and drew in scent with scree of sound. Bruiser flinched. Beast chuffed. Was good for mate to know Beast was powerful. Bruiser had good scent. Good mate scent. Bruiser came into den, across soft floor to den bed of Del.

  “May I touch you? Without getting bloody mauled?”

  Beast showed killing teeth again, thinking. Wanted Bruiser to touch. Jane wanted Bruiser for mate. For more than kits. Did not understand mate for more than kits. But Jane . . . was confusing. Lay head to paws, like sleeping. Stared at Bruiser. Bruiser walked closer, moving slow. Was smart to approach Beast slow. Beast had killing teeth and claws.

  Bruiser reached den bed. Could feel his heat. Was warmer than human. Liked heat. Liked scent. Vibration of purr rumbled through Beast body, soothing. Purrrrrr. Purrrrrr.

  Bruiser put hand out for Beast to breathe in scent. Heated scent. All Bruiser. No scent of Bethany. Was pleased Bruiser had not mated with Bethany. Priestess would be hard to kill.

  Bruiser fingers touched head. Smoothed pelt. Rubbed ears and under jaw and under tight gorget. Purred. Tilted head so Bruiser could get to tender spots. “You are truly beautiful. In both of your forms. I wonder if you know that? If you know how you make my heart break every time I look at you.”

  Bruiser stroked hand along body and Beast rolled over, to lay on back, exposing tummy for rub. Bruiser laughed and leaned over to give good belly rub. Long time later he stood straight and said, “I have to go now, beautiful lady. Or ladies. I’m not sure of the proper term anymore. But I’ll be back.”

  He patted tummy and Beast rolled over fast. Caught Bruiser hand in killing teeth. Bruiser stopped like rabbit in field. Beast let go and raised up. Put front legs on Bruiser shoulders. Put face to Bruiser’s, breathing in scent. Breathing in breath. Leaned in and rubbed head and jaw over Bruiser. Scent marking mate. Mine . . .

  Beast dropped down and curled into tight ball to sleep.

  Bruiser chuffed out breath stinking of fear and desire. “Bloody hell . . .” Bruiser left Del den.

  • • •

  At dusk I woke to find a bowl of hot oatmeal, fixed the way I liked it, with milk and sugar, on the bedside table. A headset and clean clothes were there as well, jeans, belt, undies, and T-shirt folded neatly, a pair of sandals on the floor below them. And the gorget was still on my neck, with the sliver of the Blood Cross hooked in the rings. I touched it, feeling it blister on my skin. I touched my belly and found a knot there, hot and burning. I wasn’t completely healed.

  I never want to do that again, I thought to Beast. She panted back at me, her agreement flooding through me. Careful not to touch the sliver of ancient wood, I removed the gorget and dressed, packing the gorget into a pillowcase and tying it to my belt, thinking as I moved.

  Peregrinus was dead. The Devil and Batildis were dead, for good this time. The arcenciel was free.

  It was over. Or this part was. Now the battle would start, the battle to find and take possession of the iron spike. I didn’t trust anyone but me to have it. And after committing murder with no remorse, I probably shouldn’t trust me either.

  I wasn’t far from Leo’s office and I made my way there, seeing the signs of repair and cleanup. In Leo’s office, I closed the doors to the hidden room and the elevator, and made my way down another of Leo’s hidden escape routes, through vamp HQ, and outside the stone gate, a pathway I only half remembered, from what seemed like ages ago.

  I stepped into the early night and the outer brick wall closed behind me. The breeze was warm and muggy, a heat wave coming in off the Gulf, bringing more rain and lightning. I could feel the leading edge of the storm approaching, ozone in the air. I keyed my mic on and walked around the block. “This is Yellowrock. I’m outside. How are things inside?”

  “Full of spirit and badges, as expected, ma’am,” the Kid said, letting me know he was on-site and running security and that we had lots of company. “Vamp HQ is calm and quiet, ma’am.”

  “Cops are with you?”

  “Yes, ma’am. That’s a roger. They are here and wish to speak with Ms. Yellowrock when you see her, ma’am.”

  “Uh-huh. We’ll talk later.” I tapped the headset to open Eli’s channel. “I’m out front, staying out of sight of the cameras. Your brother has Soul and her human law enforcement officers in the security room.”

  “Copy that,” Eli said. “Good to hear you’re alive.”

  “It’s good to be alive. I’m in the mood for Mona Lisa’s. Deep-dish pizza.”

  “What? No talking to the feds?”

  “God, no.”

  “Let’s see if I can get out of here and head that way. The Kid can join us at his leisure or when he gets away from Soul, whichever happens first. Maybe we’ll leave leftovers.”

  Over my earbud I heard the Kid say, “You are evil, just evil, man.”

  “Yes. Yes, I am,” Eli said.

  EPILOGUE

  Bound by Oaths of Loyalty

  It was one week from the day Bruiser had taken me to Arnaud’s. It had been a week of battles, death, and funerals, and I was sleep deprived and sad and . . . close to depressed. I hated being depressed. I’d been depressed once and it sucked.

  Yet here I was, sitting in the Clover Grill, staring at the sign reading, DANCING ONLY IN THE AISLES, NOT ON THE TABLES, courting depression.

  I had gotten to the diner early to scope out the place and had taken the table farthest in. There were only four so it hadn’t been a hard choice, my back to a wall, facing the door. Waiting. For an hour now. Checking my cell for messages every few minutes. Bruiser was late. Or worse. He wasn’t coming. The place was filling up with lunch customers. I held up a finger to the short-order cook and he nodded, throwing my burger on the grill. Even if I had to eat alone, I was eating. But my heart hurt.

  I twirled my beer on the table, making smeared rings. Trying not to think. In the days since the death of Peregrinus and his pals, Bruiser and I had talked a lot, but only on the phone, not in person. We’d both been busy, long hours and long days, me and Wise Ass getting security totally stripped and rebuilt at fanghead central and in Leo’s new house. Getting the new system up and running, and tracking down leads to make sure the city’s vamps were safe. Fixing the electricity problem by disconnecting the wires in sub-five from the rest of the system. Finding Peregrinus’ stuff and taking it. Trying to figure out what some of it was. Bruiser had been doing Onorio things.

  Most of our convos had been about Bethany and Leo and Bruiser’s life, which was way more complicated than mine was. He might not be Leo’s primo anymore, but he was bound by oaths of loyalty to the vamps in New Orleans. He wasn’t free to move around the country, not for years. My contracts would be up in a few months or a year—assuming I survived the EuroVamps’ visit an
d the coming war. I didn’t have plans yet, but staying around New Orleans without work wasn’t in the cards. Bruiser and I had talked around the big question of us, but hadn’t really talked yet. Had settled nothing. Talking didn’t really ever settle anything. It was doing that mattered.

  My food was deposited in front of me: wonderfully greasy burger and greasy fries, pickle. I tossed a scalding-hot potato into my mouth and picked up my burger. Another meal was placed in front of me, across the small table. “Starting without me, my Jane?”

  Mouth open for the bite, I looked up and watched as Bruiser lifted a jeans-clad leg over the back of the chair across from me and settled into place. He dropped flowers on the table, a bouquet of nonaromatic lilies and fresh tea leaves, which were almost impossible to find. A smile crossed my face, as I remembered him telling me that men should always give me flowers.

  He picked up his burger and said, “‘I eat at diners and fast-food joints and drink beer. My dates and I talk about guns and the newest horror or action flick. I wear jeans and boots and no makeup.’ I believe that was the exact quote. And yet, you are wearing lipstick in that amazing shade of red that makes me want to take you right here, on this beat-up old table.” He bit into his burger.

  Heated chills raced through me as I watched his hands cradling the burger. And . . . Bruiser in jeans and Western boots. And a button-up shirt, crisply starched. Sleeves rolled up to reveal his tanned arms. Oh . . . my . . .

  Talking around the ground meat, he said, “Eat up, Jane. We have guns to talk about and then the entire Kill Bill series, which I watched last night in preparation for our date, just so I would be ready for today.”

  I bit my burger, hardly tasting it. I chewed and swallowed and said, “You’re going to spend the day with me. Talking about Kill Bill.”

  “And eating.” He swallowed and reached out, tracing my jaw with one long, heated finger. “And making love. Hurry up, Jane. Today is going to be quite . . . busy.”

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR