Shadow's Soul

by Jami Gray

  “This may be Flagstaff but it’s not looking like any map I’m familiar with,” she said.

  “Topographical map.” He traced a finger along the dotted line framed by a solid border that branched into a Y before snaking across the map in the bottom left quarter. “I think this is I-17 as it heads into Flagstaff from Phoenix.”

  “Only one way to find out.” Leaving the map to Gavin, she rounded the open passenger door and slipped into her seat. She popped open the glove compartment and pulled out the traditional road map they had been using.

  When the rental’s GPS system had shown some psychopathic tendencies to send them careening off the side of steep mountain roads, they decided to use the less technologically advanced version. Unfolding the road map, she set it just above and off to the side of the one taken from Ransom’s office.

  “Yeah,” Gavin muttered, studying both maps. “That’s the freeway all right.”

  “Okay so if we follow I-17, it turns into that main road, right?” She skimmed the route with her finger. “That means this weird little mark over here is—” She double-checked against the road map. “—Lowell Observatory?”

  “Right.” He sketched farther north. “This is roughly where Tala’s property is.” The area was marked with a red square.

  Checking between the two maps, she pointed to another spot farther up and to the left marked by another red square. “And that’s the Chavez’s,” she said. “Check it out. This red square just north of the University, that’s Rio’s place.”

  “He’s got each of the Kyn leader’s homes marked.” Gavin’s voice was neutral. “That’s not good.”

  She wasn’t surprised. “He admitted to knowing about us. The only humans who have that information either belong to, or work with, the government.”

  More and more humans were starting to realize they weren’t alone in their world. It always surprised her that the thin curtain of secrecy over the Kyn’s existence had lasted so long. Based on human history and their need to share every little bit of information, she never thought the Kyn would have kept their existence a secret this long. The time for them to step forward was creeping closer.

  “If Ransom marked each of these spots, then who does this belong to?” Gavin brought her back to the discussion at hand, pointing to a lone black square sitting roughly in-between two blue areas.

  Her instincts perked up. She compared the two maps. The location was remote. “I don’t know. The two blue areas have to be these lakes.” She showed him the clearly labeled road map. “There aren’t any roads out there.”

  “What?” he asked absently, still absorbed in his study of the maps.

  She nudged his shoulder. “Pay attention.” Laying the road map over Ransom’s, she pointed, “Look, the only way out there is forest service access roads.”

  “Those will be closed this time of the year,” he muttered.

  “He’s got to be hiding something out there.” The more she thought about the little black dot and its remote location, the louder her instincts hummed. “You don’t lock a map in a drawer unless it means something.”

  “Maybe it’s a someone, not a something,” Gavin said.

  “You up for a hike?” Raine’s mind spun with possiblities as they refolded their maps. “We’ll need to call Xander and see if she can meet up with us.”

  For once, they had a solid lead. If they were lucky, they might find Cheveyo. Then she could concentrate on hunting down the chindis and the Soul Stealer.

  She dug out her cell as Gavin drove. Thankfully, the signal was strong and there was no sign of the static from her interfering magic. Punching in Xander’s number, she frowned as the call went to voice mail. Once the annoying beep screeched across the line, she left her message. “Xander, call me. We need to meet up. There’s something we need to check out.” She hung up.

  Impatience beat at her. Unable to sit still, she drummed her fingers against her thigh. Ransom made a deal with someone to take out a witch. Assuming Cheveyo was the witch in question, the only Kyn who knew Cheveyo was heading down was Chavez, Rio, and Tala. As much as she disliked the Southwest Magi, she didn’t think the woman was faking her feelings for Cheveyo.

  Chavez’s main priority was his pack and his territory. Which meant if he felt threatened by Ransom’s inquiries, he would have taken Ransom out, not partnered with the human land developer. Plus, she couldn’t understand how such a partnership would benefit Chavez.

  Rio was a different story. Amanusa were as likely to partner with an enemy—just to mess with everyone else around them—as they would be to take out a potential threat. Here in the Southwest, the relationships between the Houses was so screwed up, Rio could jump either way.

  None of which answered the question of who raised the chindis or the Soul Stealer. Which reminded her. “Hey, did you ever get a chance to ask Tala what the difference between a chindi and the Soul Stealer is?”

  “I did.” Considering how fast his shoulders tensed the answer was not good.

  “The conversation didn’t go well?”

  “She wouldn’t give me a straight answer.”

  Some note in his voice left a small ball of dread in the pit of her stomach. She wasn’t stupid, he might come across as charming and laid back, but piss him off and you’d best duck for cover. Especially lately. “What did you do?”

  He shot her a disgruntled look. “Not whatever horrible thing you’re thinking of.” He shook his head and visibly forced himself to relax. “She argued that no one would be stupid enough as to raise both. I told her it didn’t matter how smart her people were, but some dumbass had managed to do just that.”

  She choked back a shocked laugh and laid her hand on his thigh. A quick flash of Tala’s enraged face popped into her mind before a stinging sensation burst along her cheekbone. Her burst of humor disappeared and a low growl rumbled through the car’s interior. “She hit you.”

  His hand covered hers as her nails dug into his jean-clad thigh. “I deserved it.”

  She caught the small, satisfied smile lurking around his lips. “Maybe.”

  He chuckled. “No maybe about it, but it did get her to answer the question.” He turned serious. “Tala agreed with Andrew’s explanation that chindis were soul remnants, however she gave a different reason for their existence.”

  “Really?”

  He nodded. “According to her, these ghosts are raised as tools but they don’t have enough magic or power to exist on their own. Which is why they have to obey whoever raised them.”

  Raine thought it through. “Which means it’s not the chindis picking who to haunt, but the one who raises them?”

  “Right.”

  “How do they manage to stick around then?”

  “The chindis?” He released her hand to maneuver around a dilapidated old van puttering up the freeway.

  She tried not to cringe at how fast the rusted bumper approached her side of the windshield.

  “Whoever raises them, fuels them with a bit of their life force.” He whipped past the van and semi in front of it. “It’s what holds them here until they finish whatever job the summoner gave them.”

  Okay, that made a sick kind of sense. “And witches are still our best bet for being the summoner?”

  He shook his head. “Actually, that would be Andrew’s personal bias peeking out. Tala said this type of magic is ritual based. Therefore, anyone who can harness magic could do the spell.”

  “Well, shit. That widens the suspect pool,” she muttered. They were back to square one. Frustration gnawed at her and she rubbed her forehead. “Okay back to the main topic. When these chindis are done doing whatever it is they are commanded to do, they what? Disappear? Go back to being dead?”

  He nodded. “It’s what makes them such good tools. You raise them, lock a metaphysical collar and leash around them, point them in the direction you want them to go, and let them do their thing. And they have to come back to you. You take your collar and leash off and the
ghosts fade away.”

  She drummed her fingers on her thigh. “A Soul Stealer is a different animal altogether, right?”

  “Right. A Stealer is more of an independent thinker and is more tightly bound to its summoner.”

  “How so?”

  “Chindis are ritual magic.” A grim note entered Gavin’s voice. “The magic needed to raise a Stealer is much more involved. It requires a great deal of will on the part of the summoner.”

  “So we’re hunting one very pissed off, determined castor.” She frowned. “Soul Stealers grow in strength with each soul they consume.” A dark thought hit her. “Does that mean the person holding its leash grows in strength, too?”

  He slanted her an unhappy look. “The stronger they grow the hungrier they get, and the more they’ll fight their ties to the master.”

  “If those ties break?” She had an unsettling feeling that she knew the answer before he gave it.

  “You have a very angry, very violent ghost whose only goal is to hunt down anyone standing in its way. Its strength will increase with each death. As long as it’s bound, it follows its master’s orders. If it breaks the bindings…”

  The ice reappeared in the pit of her stomach. When his fingers tightened on her hand, she realized she had once again reached out. Relaxing, she put the pieces together.

  “A rogue Soul Stealer.” Gods help them. Yet remembering the Stealer’s attacks, something didn’t ring true. “Wait, it doesn’t make sense.”

  He shot her a look. “Which part?”

  She took a moment to order her thoughts. “The death that brought Cheveyo down here. Daniel, I think.”

  “The boy who was skinned alive?”

  “Right.” She pushed on. “The Stealer isn’t sentient enough to perform the dark magic needed to keep a person alive through that kind of pain.”

  He frowned. “What are you thinking?”

  “I think our Stealer is still leashed.” She bit her lower lip, trying to move the facts around. “When Cheveyo and I were attacked in that clearing, there was someone else there, laughing.” She pulled her hand free and rubbed her head, trying to get past the haunting memories. “It was like what Jeremiah endured.”

  “You think you were attacked by chindis?” Gavin’s voice was quiet as he tried to follow along.

  “Not the first couple of times.”

  “You’re losing me.”

  “The initial attack, there were no chindis, just the Stealer. It did whatever the person standing in the shadows wanted.”

  “It beat the hell out of you,” he growled.

  “It did, but when I went after Cheveyo, it wasn’t as strong. It acted like a guard dog, attacking because I made contact with Cheveyo.”

  “That last go around, it almost took you out.” Anger laced his voice, and this time, knowing where that anger came from, a curl of warmth unfurled in her heart.

  “The last time, it wasn’t just the Stealer,” she stated softly. “The chindis helped.”

  He shot her a confused look.

  Since he deserved a full explanation, she elaborated. “When I first breached the protection circle, it was the chindis who dragged me into Jeremiah’s memories, not the Stealer.”

  “They let you go.”

  She thought about it, really thought about it. “No, not exactly. They couldn’t make it past the circle of flames.”

  “But the Stealer did?”

  “Yeah, it broke through.” A shiver of remembered fear walked down her spine.

  His gaze narrowed. “But the chindis didn’t follow it through?”

  She shook her head.

  His frown deepened. “Where did they go?”

  “They disappeared.”

  “Why?”

  Frustration boiled and she snapped, “I don’t know.” Yanking on the seatbelt, she shifted until she could turn enough to face him. “A better question is who’s the one raising all of them?”

  Gavin’s hands flexed on the steering wheel. “What about Ransom?”

  “What about him?” She might sound like a petulant child, but this conversation serve to raise more unanswerable questions. Catching sight of the contemplative expression on his face, she sighed. “You can’t possibly think he had something to do with this mess.”

  “Why not?” He shot back.

  “He’s human. There’s no way he would know how to bind a Stealer.” She shook her head. “He was being haunted by the Chindis, which means he couldn’t be the one controlling them.”

  “But the one he made a deal with could,” he said.

  She opened her mouth, but shock stilled her voice. In some twisted way, it made sense. If raising chindis was simply a matter of knowing how to perform a ritual, what was to stop a human from performing it? If he raised them and then someone, perhaps a Kyn, decided to take advantage of the situation, it wouldn’t take much to wrest control of the chindis away from Ransom. “Oh dear gods,” she breathed. “That means someone figured out how to bind both.”

  His face darkened and his fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “That’s not good.”

  “Tell me about it.” Staring unseeingly out the window, she winced as the implications washed over her. “If this Stealer wasn’t on a leash, shouldn’t we have more than four bodies on our hands?”

  “Five.”

  “Huh?”

  “Jeremiah makes it five,” he corrected.

  She disagreed. “No, you aren’t listening. Jeremiah was torn apart by the chindis, not the Stealer. Someone has their hands full, controlling the chindis and the Stealer.”

  “Which brings us right back to the beginning.” Cleary frustrated, Gavin’s statement came out just shy of an accusation.

  “And there’s no way we can ask Ransom.” Caught in a coma, the developer’s chances of survival were pretty damn slim. “Maybe we’ll find something at wherever it is we’re going.” Not that she believed in the power of positive thinking, but at this point she’d take what she could.

  “Here’s hoping you’re right,” he muttered.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Raine tried calling Xander twice more before she and Gavin reached the exit leading to the forest access road. The second time she was shuttled to voicemail, she uttered a soft curse.

  “Nothing?” Gavin asked.

  She shook her head, worry seeping to the surface. “Something’s wrong.”

  “There’s nothing we can do from here.” Grim resignation hung heavy in his voice as the car bumped over the dirt road clearly marked “Forest Personnel Only, Access Restricted.” A pad-locked chain strung between two posts ended their trip.

  Bracing her hands on the dash, she leaned forward. “Got a key?”

  “Don’t need one.” He left the car idling and walked up to the heavy-duty lock. A heartbeat, maybe two, then he turned around with a very open padlock dangling from his hand.

  Grinning, she applauded. She chuckled when he bent at the waist, one hand tipping an imaginary hat. Scooting over to the driver’s seat, she drove the car forward, bumping over the chain lying like a discarded jump rope. She twisted in her seat to watch him reattached the lock. She slid back into her seat and moments later when he opened the door and got behind the wheel, said, “Nice trick.”

  He grinned. “A newly discovered one, actually.” He deftly maneuvered the car over the pitted road. It was slow going, but faster than hiking in.

  It took a solid hour before they were forced to admit that taking the rental car any further was futile. They pulled into a small, relatively flat area. The winter-colored trees provided some camouflage for the gray sedan. Although anyone driving by would see it, the lack of any other vehicles and the remoteness of their location encouraged their hopes of finding it undisturbed when they returned.

  Outside, the temperature difference between Phoenix and Flagstaff was obvious. Despite Raine’s sweater, the cold still cut its way to her skin. A shiver wracked her as she turned to grab the well-worn travel map from
the car.

  Gavin shrugged into his jacket. “You have everything?”

  She held up the folded map. “I’m good.”

  He gave a short nod and they set off down the road. They hiked in, rechecking their position often. By the time afternoon started to fade into early evening, they found what they were looking for.

  Back in the trees, resting on the ridge was a small shack. The surrounding forest hid it from casual view. The combination of stone and boards composing the frame helped it blend with the landscape. Although the hunter’s shelter seemed deserted, Gavin and Raine didn’t want to take a chance on altering any residents of their presence.

  There wasn’t much to see from their hidden vantage point. The roof offered an attempt at protection from the elements, and under it, a window sat high and to the right of the wooden door. Three warped boards created the stairs spanned the gap between the rough ground and the actual porch.

  Using the early evening shadows, Gavin moved closer to test for wards. He approached from the back, only to draw up short about a stone’s throw away from the shelter.

  Worried she would miss something, Raine straddled the thin line between the mortal world and the other world of the Kyn. The quiet scene gained depth as reality was stripped away, leaving only the luminous magical scenery behind.

  Gavin’s questing magic hit the warded boundary, sparking colors into brilliant life. She scanned for the murky blotches, which would indicate a return of the chindis, or the pits of emptiness revealing the presence of the Soul Stealer. She found neither. Instead, the shack was wreathed with a dull, flat magic.

  Gavin’s power wove around the drab hues, webbing the perimeter. The bright lines of his energy pushed its way into the openings of existing wards. Wonder held Raine still, her awe growing as his magic absorbed and altered the old wards in mesmerizing display. When the last section of the cabin’s wards flowed into new paths, there was a silent flare of light, followed by a pop as if the air pressure suddenly adjusted.

  Blinking to adjust her sight, she noted the altered warding now tuned itself to Gavin. She gave a silent whistle. He manage to replace the entire warding without setting off any alarms. Granted she could set decent wards, but she leaned toward the smash-and-burn theory. This level of magical manipulation was damn impressive, but way out of her league.