Shattered Souls (The Toren Series, Book 1)

by Lola StVil

  “I would be willing to bet that there’s no chance for us now, but that doesn’t mean I can just turn it off.”

  This isn’t helping. In truth, I wanted someone to say definitively one way or the other whether Lucas should join us. But of course, that would be way too easy. And now I can’t concentrate at all because of what I’ve just worked out about Ryder.

  I decide to focus on that. I can deal with that one so much easier.

  “Ryder, can I talk to you for a second please?” I say.

  “Sure,” he agrees. He gets to his feet and heads for the door. I follow him.

  We walk a bit down the hallway, and the second I hear the door closing behind us, I round on him.

  “What the hell are you thinking?” I yell in an angry whisper.

  “I know it’s wrong, but I can’t help it, Summit. I love her,” he says quietly.

  I feel for him. It must be awful falling for your best friend’s girl. But I get it. If they both feel the same, they should give it a chance. Right?

  “It’s really none of my business who you date or don’t date, but it is my business if tension between you and RJ gets one of you killed. You have to tell him, Ryder. If you’re honest with him, maybe he’ll understand. But if he finds out from someone else, chances are he’ll hate you forever.”

  “I was going to say something, but in case you didn’t notice, we were a little busy—you know, being attacked, losing our parents to a big void, and well, I had homework!”

  It takes all my willpower not to smile at the last part of his comment. I bite the inside of my cheek. It’s really not funny.

  I glance towards the main door of the building as I try to think of a way to persuade Ryder that he has to come clean to RJ now. Today.

  I spot a girl coming in. She is around my age, with long brown hair and soft brown eyes. I watch her for a second, marveling at her natural grace. There is something mesmerizing about her. She is beautiful, but she doesn’t seem to know it.

  Her face breaks into a smile as she heads straight for us.

  “Oh no,” Ryder says quietly.

  I glance at him.

  I know right away, but I don’t want to ask.

  “That’s Sabrina,” he says like he read my mind.

  “You told her to come before you told RJ the truth?” I ask.

  This just keeps on getting better.

  “No, I just told her where we were, I didn’t know she’d come.” Ryder leans in and whispers, “And she kind of thinks RJ already knows. In fact, I told her he took the news well.”

  “You’re lying to your best friend and your girlfriend? Nice,” I answer, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

  That’s when the door to Parker’s room opens and RJ hurries out, his face aglow. He looks by far the happiest I’ve ever seen him.

  It’s as if the universe just wants this moment to keep on getting worse.

  Ryder has spotted RJ as well, and for a moment, he looks stunned. It’s clear he has no idea what to say or do, and neither do I.

  RJ hurries towards us.

  Sabrina has just reached us. “Hi. I had to see you. I had to know you were okay.”

  Somehow, RJ doesn’t pick up on any of what’s happening. I guess it’s true that love is blind. He embraces Sabrina.

  “You came,” he gushes, still holding her.

  Reluctantly, she reaches up and gives him a quick squeeze. She wriggles free.

  “I left a message, but I didn’t think you’d come. When I saw you walking past the window, I thought maybe I was imagining it,” RJ goes on.

  “I’m so glad you’re okay with this. Me being here,” Sabrina says to RJ.

  “Of course I’m okay with it. I’m so happy you’re here. I’ve got loads to tell you,” he says, looking at her with an expression so filled with love and hope that it’s sad to see.

  Sabrina glares at Ryder. I’m pretty sure she’s just figured out that he’s been lying to her about RJ knowing about them.

  I glare at Ryder too. RJ is making a fool of himself, and Ryder could have stopped it all if he’d just been honest with his best friend. This whole thing is about to blow up, and I might have thought it was the easy option to deal with before, but I sure as hell don’t now.

  Ryder glances back at me. He looks as lost as I feel. We exchange uneasy looks.

  I’m momentarily saved from the situation as Anya calls my name from down the hall.

  “Summit. You need to come and officially release Lucas from his duties to the team,” she reminds me.

  I shrug helplessly at Ryder and head back to Lucas’s room. Lucas stares at me with a ferocious intensity that I can’t read, but it sends shivers down my spine. I can’t go in there right now.

  “There’s something I have to do first,” I tell Anya. “Please tell Lucas I’ll be back later.”

  I turn and walk away before anyone can stop me.

  ***

  I didn’t have anything to do, I just had to get out of there. Away from Lucas and his piercing eyes, and away from Ryder and his girl drama.

  I called Milo, but my call went to voicemail, so naturally, I’m doing what any sane person would do in my situation—getting really drunk really fast.

  My first instinct was to hit the nearest bar, but I’m underage and I wasn’t in the mood to get turned away. Instead, I consulted GoQuo, a fantastic app that gives the location of the nearest dive bar that is kind of neutral territory.

  It caters to angels, demons, and Quos, and it’s an unwritten rule that inside the bar, we’re all just there to get drunk, not to fight.

  I love the Angel world in that moment. That is one cool app.

  I reach the bar I’ve been sent to: Sally’s. The outside doesn’t look too bad. The way I’m feeling now, I don’t think I would care if it had a neon danger sign.

  I push open the door and go in. I find myself wrapped up in layer of heat, engulfed by the smell of burning wood and sweat that only a dive bar seems to be able to produce.

  The bar is dimly lit, and I can see some of the tables have groups of people huddled around them, deep in conversation. A group hangs around the pool table. Most of the bar’s clientele prop the bar up, drowning their sorrows.

  The walls are covered with a dark wood paneling. An ancient jukebox sits against one of the walls beside an equally ancient dartboard. I watch, fascinated, as two demons play darts. When they make their shots, a piece of white chalk floats up into the air and writes down their scores.

  I head for the bar. A girl around my age stands behind it, laughing with what I assume are her regulars and painting her nails. Behind her head, the range of spirits hang, but there are no signs of any brackets. The bottles simply float in place.

  In the furthest corner, a Quo sits idly firing her power, which takes the form of a small orange ball, into the air. It floats down and she catches it and throws it up again. She is soon juggling with half a dozen small orange balls.

  I get to the bar and position myself on a stool.

  “What can I get you?” the bartender asks, putting her nail polish down.

  “A tequila shot please,” I say.

  “I think you’re in the wrong bar, honey,” she says.

  She laughs, and a few of her regulars join her. They watch me as I peer at the bottles.

  They all have the same label. White with the word Coy in thick black letters. Each has a different name underneath this. Desire. Black. Love. Joy.

  Those are the ones that jump out at me, and I’m conscious of being watched. Joy sounds like a good option.

  “I’ll take a Joy,” I say.

  The bartender shrugs and clicks her fingers together. I watch as a shot glass positions itself under the optic and a shot fills it. It floats down in front of me. I fish in my pocket, hoping I have some money. I do.

  I down the shot. It tastes better than I expected it to, and I ask for another.

  “You’re Summit Case,” the bartender announces as I sink my fourth shot
.

  It’s good stuff. I feel happier already and there is a warm glow in my stomach.

  “The one and only,” I respond, my words a little slurred.

  The demons at the bar have stopped openly watching me. Instead, they crowd close and talk in whispered voices.

  One of them breaks from the crowd and comes to my side.

  “We’re moving on to somewhere a little livelier. Want to join us?”

  Every instinct in me screams no.

  “Okay. Can I get one more? Make it a double please.” I slam the last shot.

  I get off the stool and stumble a little.

  “Easy there,” the demon who approached me says, steadying me.

  “Hey, Summit,” the bartender calls as I’m halfway to the door.

  I turn back.

  “You should stay here. It’s safer inside. Those guys aren’t exactly drinking buddy material.”

  They glare at her.

  I shrug. “I’ll take my chances. Thanks.”

  I follow the group of demons outside.

  As soon as we’re out of the bar, their demeanors change. They are no longer laughing joyfully or trying to befriend me. They are all business.

  One of them grabs me.

  “You should have listened to Georgie in there,” he says.

  “In there, we behave. Out here? Not so much. We’re going to siphon out every little bit of those powers you’re so proud of.”

  I don’t know why he thinks I’m proud of my powers, but that’s hardly what I should be focusing on.

  The fresh air has hit me like a brick, and I find myself swaying slightly. I clumsily try to push the demon away from me. He laughs and tightens his grip.

  I stumble along, and they drag me into a dark alleyway.

  Before I can even begin to think about what to do next, a huge figure steps out of the shadows. He is well over six feet tall. He has a mane of thick jet-black hair and the most piercing amber eyes I have ever seen. There’s something familiar about them. He holds a ball of blue flames in each hand. They burn furiously bright, seeming to dance in the shadows.

  He glares at the demons, and they shrink back. The one who was holding me drops to his knees, not even bothering to hide how pathetic he looks.

  “We didn’t mean any harm. Just having a bit of fun,” he says.

  The others join him, their voices pathetic as they whimper and plead for their miserable little lives.

  The giant doesn’t let them plead for long. He raises his hand and drops the orbs. They fly past me on either side and crash into the demons. Their pleas turn to screams of agony as they are engulfed in blue flames. These flames don’t fully engulf them right away, but burn slow and steady as the demons scream in pain.

  I peer up at the giant.

  “I’ve seen pictures of you,” I say thoughtfully, trying to remember where I’ve seen them.

  I should be terrified of this being, but I find I’m not. Something about his eyes is strangely familiar. Comforting even.

  “Who are you?” I slur.

  “To everyone else, I’m the highest-ranking demon there is—I am the last Akon. They call me Rage. But you’re stumbling out of a bar instead of facing the crap that is happening in your life. And you’re making really bad choices. That makes us family. I’m your grandfather. C’mon, let’s go drink some more.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE: DECISIONS, DECISIONS

  I follow Rage back towards the bar. I can feel a warm glow in my stomach, one that doesn’t come from the effects of the Coy. My instincts were right; I don’t need to fear this demon. He’s my grandfather, Silver’s father. That explains why his eyes look so familiar.

  They are the same color as my father’s, but it’s more than that. They have the same ferocious light: the same passion that says the man behind them will do anything to protect those he loves.

  Rage opens the bar door and theatrically moves aside and gestures for me to enter. The bartender’s eyebrows shoot up when she sees me enter.

  “Wow, I thought you were a goner,” she says.

  It seems subtlety isn’t her strong point.

  “Let’s just say she has friends in high places,” Rage comments to the bartender as he comes in behind me.

  I can’t help but laugh when, at the sound of his voice, pretty much everyone in the bar ups and leaves. The dart-playing demons leave mid-game, arguing between themselves as to who would have won the game.

  The only patron to remain is the girl with the orange balls. She continues to juggle, unaware of anyone around her. I wonder what her story is, but I have enough of my own drama going on without inviting in anyone else’s.

  “I hope you’re going to be spending well, Rage.” The bartender grins. “You know, seeing as you just cleared my bar.”

  “Always.” He winks at her.

  “Bring us over a Black and a Courage.”

  He points towards a small table tucked away in the back of the bar. The bartender hurries over with our drinks.

  Rage smiles and pushes the bright pink one towards me. I drink without hesitation. The drink is kind of sweet, but packs a kick, and I feel my head spin slightly. It feels nice, but I know I should focus.

  “So, what have you heard about me, Summit?” Rage asks.

  The drinks loosen my tongue and I find myself blurting out the truth.

  “That you are the most feared demon in the Angel world.”

  Rage nods once. “That’s probably fair, but I think you know you have nothing to fear from me, Winnie. I don’t put up with other people’s crap, and like your father, family is important to me, and I would burn the whole world before I let anything happen to someone I care about.”

  I smile. “I’ve heard a lot about my mother’s side of the family, but the angel world doesn’t seem so keen on my father’s side.”

  I cringe, hoping I haven’t gone too far. Rage laughs a hearty laugh.

  “Well, that figures. It sounds crazy, me being a demon and your mother’s side of the family being all angels. But your grandfather, on your mom’s side, Marcus, he was my best friend. There’s nothing I wouldn’t have done for him or his family, and I know he would have said the same about me.”

  I let that sink in for a moment as our empty drinks are replaced with full ones. I’m only too happy to drink the new one.

  “Wow,” I say. “You’re the most powerful demon and you were close to a powerful angel like Marcus? How did that happen?”

  “It took a lot of blood, battles, and grief, and one very persistent woman who nagged and threatened to kill us if we didn’t become friends: your grandmother. She wanted all of us to be a family. And Emmy usually get her way,” he replies with a wistful smile.

  “Yeah, Grandma strikes me as the kind of being who is very much in charge.”

  “She was even more bossy when she was human. Don’t tell her I said that,” he jokes. “In the end we were family, and we were until he died.”

  “How did he die?” I ask, curious to know what ended the life of one of the most powerful beings in this world.

  “He died doing the one thing he loved most—protecting your mother. That means he died a hero in my book. Now, enough reminiscing. We can catch up on the past another time. Right now, I’m here to find out what’s going on with you that’s bad enough to send you here alone.”

  Where do I start?

  “They went into the void,” I say.

  That was the start of it all falling apart. If they hadn’t gone into the void, I wouldn’t have been crying, and Lucas wouldn’t have ended up unconscious.

  “Yeah, I know. It was only a matter of time,” Rage says. He signals to the bartender, who brings over another round.

  “Is that why you’re here getting pissed drunk? You miss them?”

  I down the shot he pushes towards me while I debate how much to tell him. Something tells me he’s the best person to give me straight-talking advice, and I decide to tell him about the decision I can’t make.

/>   “I do miss them, and I was awful to them. Pryor told me she loved me but I was so angry I blew her off. But it’s not just that. Lucas is suffering from Drin, and well, I’m the trigger. Being on the team means everything to him and I don’t want to let him down, but I also don’t want to be responsible for him ending up dead. I just don’t know what to do.”

  I throw my hands up dramatically. The bartender mistakes it for a request for another round, and I don’t bother to correct her. I down the shot. I’m past caring how drunk I get. I just want this decision to go away. Maybe Rage will tell me what to do.

  “It’s simple, Winnie. You have to decide if you want to be a good leader that your team can rely on when things get tough, or whether you want to be a girl in love,” he says, never breaking eye contact.

  Why can’t I be both?

  “I’m not in love with Lucas,” I say, letting out a dramatic sigh.

  Even as I say it, I know it’s a lie. When I’m around him, my feelings for him consume me. I can’t look at him without getting a fluttering feeling deep inside, and the thought of anything happening to him fills me with a despair blacker than anything I’ve ever felt.

  I look down at the table and fiddle with my empty shot glass.

  “This will be a whole lot easier if we don’t lie to each other, Winnie,” Rage says gently.

  I force myself to look up.

  “I hate love. All it does is cause pain and hurt. How’s that for honest?”

  Rage smiles. “Better,” he says.

  “And take it from me, love can be painful. But real love? It beats any obstacle along the way. And it saves people who are beyond saving. People who the world has given up on. It can be redemption.”

  I find myself smiling back.

  “How do you know so much about this?” I ask.

  “Because love saved me,” he says simply.

  We lapse into a comfortable silence for a moment, each lost in our own thoughts.

  “I think you know what you have to do,” Rage says after a while.

  I nod. I do, but I still don’t know for certain whether it’s the right choice.

  “Wait here a second,” Rage tells me.