A Soul for Trouble

by Crista McHugh

  A Soul For Trouble

  by

  Crista McHugh

  Book 1 of the Soulberer Trilogy

  A Soul For Trouble

  Copyright © 2012 by Crista McHugh

  Digital Edition

  Edited by Rhonda Helms

  Copyedits by Nicole Dyakanoff

  Cover Art by Kim Killion of Hot Damn Designs

  Formatting by Ironhorse Formatting

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author or publisher except for the use of brief quotations in critical articles or reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, businesses, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, actual events or locales is purely coincidental.

  ISBN-13: 978-1468158748

  ISBN-10: 1468158740

  Aknowledgements

  Thank you to Sherry and Cate, the first crit partners who took a peak at my crazy chaos god and the lives he tormented.

  Thank you to Nonny for helping me push the edges on my antagonist to make him more creepy.

  Thank you to all the readers who offered suggestions on how to improve Arden, Dev, and Kell.

  Thank you to Rhonda for helping me polish this novel and smooth out the rough edges.

  Thank you to Nicole, a generous reader with an eagle eye for fiding all the typos I miss.

  Thank you to Kim for coming with a gorgeous cover.

  Thank to Lee at Iron Horse Formatting for doing a fabulous job on the ebook version of this novel.

  And thank you to my family for not thinking I was insane when I walked around the house, muttering to myself about chaos gods and necromancers.

  Table Of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Epilogue

  Coming Soon: A Soul For Chaos

  Author Bio

  Praise For Crista McHugh

  Other Titles By Crista McHugh

  Bonus Chapters: The Tears Of Elios

  Chapter 1

  “Trouble, you have a special customer,” Hal said as soon as he entered the kitchen.

  Arden Lesstymine, known to everyone in the village as Trouble, slid a sheet of freshly baked meat pies onto a cooling rack. “Please don’t let it be Conn again. My ass is still sore from his pinching.” She peered out of the cracked door, praying the lecherous blacksmith wasn’t sitting in the main room.

  “No, this one’s a stranger, and a real kook at that.” The beefy innkeeper leaned against the door frame, pointing him out. “You must be some kind of magnet for the crazies.”

  “Why do you think I ended up here?” She smoothed her apron and shoved the swinging door open.

  Arden approached the table and studied the new customer. His frail body trembled like the last leaves on the branches outside, and his snow-white hair stuck out in every direction. What troubled her the most, though, was his constant muttering. She waited for a lull in his private conversation with himself, but when it never came, she cleared her throat. “Can I get you something?”

  His body jerked at the sound of her voice, and he lifted his head. Feverish bright blue eyes ringed by a yellow-green halo stared back at her so intensely, she took a step back. Yep, definitely crazy. And definitely a foreigner based on his coloring. Most of the natives of Ranello had dark hair, dark skin, and dark eyes. “Yes,” he whispered before resuming his low, incomprehensible ramblings.

  She flicked her thick braid over her shoulder and went back to the kitchen. Hal and Jenna, the other barmaid, stifled their laughter as soon as she entered. “Let me guess—you led him right to my table, didn’t you, Hal?”

  He shook his head. “He walked straight past me as if I wasn’t there.”

  “Besides, you know how to handle his type better than me,” Jenna added. “He probably wanted to stare at you or something.”

  Arden’s jaw tightened. Every time she walked in a room, she felt dozens of eyes on her.

  Her golden hair stood out in the sea of brunettes that surrounded her, along with her blue eyes and delicate features. All gifts from her father, according to her mother. Unfortunately, she’d never had a chance to meet the man who sired her and thank him for making her the only freak in the kingdom.

  “I think he’s too busy talking to himself.” Arden filled a tankard with ale and placed one of the meat pies on a plate. Maybe the aroma of rosemary and mushrooms that rose from the meal would pull him back to reality. “Here’s to hoping he pays.” With her chin held high, she marched back into the main room and set the meal in front of the old man.

  “Thank you,” he said and reached a shaky hand for the pie.

  She paused for a moment to take a good look at him. His threadbare cloak hung limply off his bony shoulders, and the skin on his hands wrinkled like onion paper when he moved his fingers. How old was he? Poor man. He probably has no idea where he is. “I’ll come by and check on you later.”

  She spun on her heels and collided with a hard mass behind her. A hand grabbed her arm to steady her. “Excuse me,” a voice said from under a heavy brown hood.

  The warmth from his touch spread through her body like a wildfire. A soft, musical accent marked him as a foreigner as well, along with the bright green eyes that burned from under the hood. When did this little village on the remote edge of Ranello begin to attract so much attention? Not that she minded meeting new people, especially ones who spoke like the new stranger. She’d much rather listen to his ramblings than those of the old man’s.

  She tried to peer past the shadows and catch a better glimpse of his face. “Can I get you anything?”

  The stranger sat at a nearby table and focused his attention on the old man. “I’ll have what he’s having.”

  Coarse fur grazed her fingertips, and she looked down at the large red wolf that brushed past her and settled down at the stranger’s feet. She resisted the urge to bolt for the door, as did just about every other patron nearby. Everyone, that is, except the old man, who continued muttering to himself while he ate.

  “And for your wolf?” she asked in a slightly higher pitch than normal.

  The stranger chuckled. “He’s already had his fill.”

  Arden backed away slowly and waited until she was about ten feet away from the wolf before she turned and ran back to the kitchen. “What is going on tonight? Did the moons line up in some unusual formation?”

  Hal glanced up from Jenna’s overflowing cleavage. “What do you mean?”

  “Now we have another foreigner with a wolf in the main room.”

  “A wolf?” Hal’s heavy feet thumped across the wooden floor. “Not in my inn.” The kitchen d
oor swung open with a bang, and he stomped toward the hooded stranger. “Sir, I don’t know how things are done where you’re from, but we do not allow creatures like that in public houses.”

  The wolf lifted its lips and growled.

  “I suggest you remove the finger you’re pointing at him before he removes it for you,” the stranger replied in a low, even tone.

  The color drained from Hal’s face. “But I have to worry about the safety of my customers.

  A wolf is a wild beast.”

  The stranger ruffled his pet’s fur with his hand, and the wolf lowered his head. “I have him under perfect control. So long as no one provokes Cinder, you won’t have to worry about the safety of your customers.”

  “I can refuse to serve you.”

  “It seems like you’re a bit late for that.” He nodded toward Arden, who’d been watching the entire exchange with a tankard and plate in her hands.

  “Trouble, I forbid you to serve him.”

  The clank of coins on the wooden table sounded behind them, and Hal’s eyes grew large enough to reflect the gold in front of him.

  “This should cover the inconvenience.”

  Hal scooped up the coins and retreated to the kitchen without another word.

  “You could’ve bought the entire inn for a few coins more,” Arden said to the stranger as she set the meal on the table.

  He shrugged. “What would I want with it?”

  “No idea. Burn it to the ground so I could leave this town and wouldn’t have to deal with Hal anymore?” Even though she was trying to make a joke, the words hit a little too close to what she desired. She knew there had to be a place where she wouldn’t draw stares and pointed fingers, but she feared what could happen to her if she dared to strike out on her own. She saw what happened to her mother when she tried it.

  His fingers wrapped around her wrist when she tried to leave. Again, the warmth from his touch both soothed and excited her. “You’re not from here, are you?”

  “I was born here in Wallus.”

  “You don’t look like a Ranellian.”

  She jerked her hand free. Just what I needed. Someone else reminding me that I didn’t belong here. “Sometimes variety is a good thing.” The stranger chuckled again. “Perhaps, Trouble.”

  Damn, she wished she could see his face to know what he found so amusing about her. His rumbling laughter sent shivers down her spine. Stop it, her mind ordered. You’re all wound up because he’s new in town and doesn’t immediately cross the room to avoid you. Of course, imagining the lean-muscled body under the cloak didn’t help matters. Blood rushed into her cheeks, and she returned to the kitchen before he could ask any more questions.

  Ale foam coated Hal’s upper lip. He wiped it away when he saw her. “As soon as he’s done eating, get him out of here, Trouble. You got that?”

  “He paid you enough money for a month in your best room. Let him and his wolf eat in peace.”

  “It’s more than the wolf that bothers me. He ain’t from around here, and strangers who don’t show their faces are usually bad news.”

  Arden peeked out the door at her customers. The stranger picked at the meat pie and tossed bits of it to his wolf. His attention never wavered from the other foreigner, who remained completely oblivious of anything around him. “I think he’s looking out after the old man.”

  “Which means they’re both kooks.”

  “Why should you care? You’ve got gold in your pocket, and they aren’t hurting your business.”

  Hal grabbed her face in one hand and squeezed her cheeks until she cried out. “That’s enough sass from you. Just remember, I’m the only one in this town who’ll tolerate your antics.”

  Anger flared deep within her, fire flowing through her veins. It burned brighter inside her as his grip tightened. She wanted him to hurt as much as she did, maybe even worse. Flames sparked from her skin.

  He released her face with a yelp, blisters already forming on his fingertips. “Why, you little witch!”

  “What did she do this time?” Jenna asked.

  “She burned me.”

  Arden took a deep breath and exhaled through her teeth. Damn it, she didn’t mean to allow her temper to get the better of her again. She’d managed to go almost a whole year without doing anything that would make people suspect she was a witch. At least nothing caught on fire this time. She grabbed the full pitcher of ale from Jenna. “Take care of Hal. I’ll tend to the guests.”

  She slipped into the dim room, far away from their accusing glares. One of these days, they were going to burn her at the stake if she wasn’t careful. She wasn’t sure why Hal spared her this long. He either feared her or felt guilty about the way he treated her mother. As much as she hated it here, it was better than being executed or cast aside. She grazed her fingers over her pendant and silently reaffirmed her promise never to make the same mistakes her mother did.

  She made the rounds without looking anyone in the eye. The less people knew about what just happened in the kitchen, the better. She finally came to the old man and refilled his empty tankard.

  “How much?” he asked.

  “Four loras.”

  He stopped muttering long enough to fumble through his robes and pull out a money pouch. A five-lora coin rolled toward her.

  “I’ll be back in a moment with your change.”

  He shook his head. “Still hungry.” His gaze appeared as hollow as his gut must have been before he came here.

  “I’ll see what I can find in the kitchen.” She cast a quick glance at her other customer. His tankard remained filled to the brim, but she could have sworn she saw him grinning at her.

  Fixing her courage in place, she pushed the swinging door open.

  “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t toss you out on your ungrateful ass right now,” Hal said as soon as she set the pitcher down.

  Arden brushed past him and cut a slice of apple pie. “Because you need someone like me to keep the weirdoes happy. Besides, Jenna can’t see past her bust to do any of the cooking.” Before he could get another word in, she went back into the main room and placed the pie on the old man’s table.

  “What kind of pie is it?”

  “Apple. Eat up. You need to put some meat on your bones before winter comes.”

  “My favorite. Would you care to sit with me?”

  She looked over her shoulder. It sure beat going back to the kitchen and facing Hal’s wrath. Besides, the old man actually seemed coherent now that he had some food in his stomach. “For a few minutes.”

  The mass of wrinkles in his face parted to reveal a smile. “Thank you.” She sank into a chair next to him and watched his shaking hand stab the flaky crust and dig into the sweet golden filling.

  A moan of a pleasure escaped from his lips with the first bite.

  “Where are you from, old man?”

  He stopped chewing. “A bad place.” Then the muttering returned.

  So much for trying to find out more about him.

  The fork rattled against the empty plate, but the old man pressed his fingers against the crumbs, scooping up every last morsel.

  She reached for the plate. “Enjoy it?”

  His hand clamped over hers, but it didn’t tremble like before. “Very tasty,” a deep voice murmured.

  Her breath caught in her throat. He didn’t sound like the same person anymore. She tried to pull her hand away, but he held on. Her skin crawled from the contact. This was what she got for being nice to a poor old man.

  “Almost as tasty as its maker.” The yellow-green halo in the old man’s eyes glowed brighter. His finger stroked the inside of her palm. “Such a pretty little girl, you are.”

  “Let go.”

  He threw back his head and laughed. Behind him, the hiss of a sword being pulled from its scabbard filled her ears between the throbs of her pulse. “I want to stay with you a bit longer,” the dark voice said from the old man’s mouth.

  Arden focused
the fire in her mind, but fear held her back. She didn’t need to use her magic in full view of everyone in Wallus, but she doubted she’d be able to overpower him any other way. “I mean it, you don’t want to piss me off,” she whispered.

  The grin fell from his face, and his eyes bulged. He slumped forward onto the table, revealing the dagger protruding from his back. Grey stone replaced his flesh, spreading out from the hilt like ink on paper.

  She screamed, and pandemonium erupted. Customers bolted from their chairs, running through the front door into the night.

  A strangled cry gurgled from his throat, but his hand still clamped around hers in a rock-hard vise. As the stone encased his face, a green mist rolled out of his nostrils and filled the space between them. Cold terror prickled along her spine, and dark shadows flittered on the rim of her peripheral vision. What in the name of the three moons was going on here?

  The mist drew closer, filling her mouth and nose. She gagged and tried to pull away from it, but it surrounded her like a shroud, choking her. Her lungs screamed for air. The mist poured into her when she drew a shaky breath. Every muscle in her body tightened, and the room went black.

  Chapter 2

  Devarius Tel’brien caught the barmaid before she hit the ground, cursing under his breath.

  No wonder the owner called her Trouble.

  She seized in his arms, her eyes rolling back until only the whites showed. His gut clenched. Loku had chosen her instead of him. Once again, he’d failed to protect the Soulbearer. There was nothing else left for him to do but guide her through the transition and take her to Gravaria for more formal training.

  His gaze swept over the statue that remained of Robb’s body. The poor human was never meant to bear the weight of Loku, and neither was the naïve girl he held.

  Cinder growled next to him. Dark figures with glowing red eyes poured into the main room of the inn. Undead. “Great, this night just keeps getting better.” The hiss of an arrow sang in the air, and he ducked under the nearest table. He’d gone from tracking down an escaped Soulbearer to hiding from assassins and zombies. Who had Robb pissed off? He reached for the vials on his belt and launched three of them at the shadows. Grunts filled the air when they exploded. He charged, using the confusion to his advantage. A flash of golden light erupted from his palm, and the walls of the inn rattled from the impact of the undead bodies slamming against them.