Soul Taker

by Nutt, Karen Michelle

  Garran would have to get over his hang-ups about humans. "I'm a private detective." He left out 'for the Otherworldly Realm'. "I'm working with someone to uncover the…" He couldn't say Soul Taker and freak her out even more. "A serial killer." Yeah, that was so much more subtle.

  "Serial killer?" She inhaled deeply. "Why isn't this all over the news? Why aren't the police warning women to stay off the streets? Jesus, could Johanna be in danger?"

  He wanted to say no, but he wasn't sure. With Isabella admitting Johanna hadn't looked well, he was apprehensive, too. "I don't know. Let's keep looking."

  "Oh, God." Isabella's hand flew to her mouth.

  He placed his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. "Let's stay focused and we'll find her."

  Isabella took a deep breath and gave him a curt nod. They continued on, leaving the Witch Trial Memorial behind them and venturing onto Charter Street. The streetlights were lit, but did nothing to help them with the swirling layer of mist, which threatened to cover most of Burying Point Cemetery. The Grimshawe house stood to the right of the graveyard as an ominous witness to what happened through the ages. Tonight would be no different.

  "I see her." Isabella broke away from Harrison before he could stop her.

  "Wait," he called after her, but she didn't listen. The mist swallowed Isabella's frame, blocking her from his view. Harrison cursed as he broke into a jog.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Garran's night dragged on with the hideous performance he'd been forced to endure. He hated theatrical ghost tours, but he especially loathed the ones that included vampire lore.

  New England was noted for their superstitions, and the unorthodox rituals to keep a vampire from rising from its grave was a specialty of theirs. It didn't matter that their legends were faulty at best and some just darn right ludicrous. He blamed the Dearg-due for the fallacies. Ian Cantwell and his mate Glamis Drui spread the fantasy of how to kill a vampyre in the thirteenth century, long before he'd even been turned. Heck, in his youth, he'd been victim to some of those stories. Living centuries gave him time to read everything under the moon, even if it proved a fantasy.

  His paranormal host this evening looked like she stepped from the pages of a paranormal book with her witch-type hat and droll English accent. Yet, she claimed to be one of the living dead. She needed to do a little more research on her wardrobe choice. She had the audacity to claim she knew the true-facts about vampires because she was one herself. Indeed! Since the woman still possessed a heartbeat consistent of that of a human's, one could pretty much rule out vampire. Kook was more like it. A vampire's heartbeat was virtually non-existent at three beats per minute compared to a human's seventy-two beats per minute.

  "Follow me, mere mortals…" The host motioned with a wave of her hand. "…if you're willing to stick your neck out for a vampire to feed upon." She cackled, showing her store-bought fangs.

  Garran barely held back a chortle. He wondered what Miss Vampire would do if he bared his real fangs to her.

  His gaze took in the crowd gathered. They were eating this shite up, following her as if she would lead them to Dracula personally. "Eejits, the lot of them," he murmured under his breath.

  The evening's events for him had been a waste of time. He wondered if Harrison had any luck.

  As they passed by the Burying Cemetery, his preternatural eyesight picked up a couple walking the grounds. It wasn't unusual for people to stroll among the headstones to admire the intricate designs, but the unearthly fog hovering over the ground like a mist-carpet put him on alert. His gaze focused on the way the woman tilted her head as the man leaned forward. Garran broke away from the tour to investigate.

  With the swirling mist came the distinct smell of blood, the tangy coppery taste that made his mouth water. He swallowed back his desire to indulge. Instead, he focused on the couple. The woman was young and human. The man… He detected an irregular heartbeat and the pungent underlying scent distinctive to only vampires. The man wasn't human. He'd seen enough and made his move.

  Fast as lightning streaking across the sky, he was upon the young vampire, grabbing hold of him by the collar and ripping him away from his late night snack.

  "What the hell do you think you're doing?" The woman lashed out at Garran.

  Garran's eyes burned and he knew they glared red. "Saving yer life."

  "Saving my life!" Her eyes narrowed. "You stupid prick." She lunged, her fists laying into Garran's back. He let the young vampire go and warded off the woman's attack.

  "Gracie, stop it." The vampire pulled at her, but she continued to lash out. Her hand slipped into her coat pocket, pulling out pepper spray.

  "You must be kiddin'," Garran commented as he knocked the canister away and grabbed both her arms. She struggled, but couldn't break free. "Let me understand this." He hissed near her ear. "You don't care that your date is a vampire?"

  "I know what Dave is," she spat. Her glare told Garran, she'd rather stake him than converse.

  "He could kill you. Drink you dry." He tried to make sense of this, while warning the girl she was making a big mistake. She would die or she would be changed. Neither was in her best interest.

  "Hey man, I wouldn't do that," Dave defended himself. He actually looked horrified over the suggestion.

  Garran's eyebrows rose and he snorted in disbelief. "Ye wouldn't?"

  "No." His dark eyes shifted to Gracie. If Garran didn't know better, he would swear the man looked at the human woman with puppy-dog adoration. "I love her, man." He straightened his leather vest and stood a little taller to meet Garran's gaze head on.

  Garran detected no deceit. The vampire believed he loved this human. He looked to be in his early twenties, but Garran knew looks were deceiving when one's life is virtually eternal. "When were you turned?"

  "In the seventies."

  Explained the Beatles' haircut, Garran thought.

  "Gracie's my soul mate."

  "Ye're going to turn her, then?" Garran asked.

  "No." He seemed perturbed. "I said I loved her. It'll be her choice. If she does not wish to be a vampire, I'll be hers until she dies, naturally, when it's her time."

  Garran let Gracie go and she shrugged her shoulders and straightened her T-shirt over her low-rise jeans. The vampire draped his arm around his girl. They both eyed him warily. Who was he to interfere with true love? Garran backed off. "I'm sorry for the intrusion." He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and strode away.

  Vampires taking human mates… He shook his head at the thought. Salem had its quirks, but this was more L.A. style where anything and everything went.

  Garran walked toward the Grimshawe house, planning to catch up with his tour, but then he spotted something else— a woman sprawled against one of the headstones. He would have missed her if it hadn't been for her hair fluttering in the breeze like a warning flag.

  He headed over to her and leaned down on his haunches, thinking he'd find her dead, but he detected a faint heartbeat. He lifted her shoulders to straighten her, but her head lolled to the side. She moaned as if the movement caused her discomfort. He leaned in near as he tried to open her mouth and see if the Soul Taker had attacked her.

  "Hey, you!"

  Garran turned, spotting a female with long dark hair, hurrying toward him. She had a nice figure and smelled like… fresh rain—definitely human.

  Her steps picked up speed. He knew he looked suspicious, leaning over a woman slouched against a gravestone. His mute response probably didn't help matters either. He would have to leave before she asked questions he was unable to answer. He released his hold on the unconscious woman and flitted away. Her human eyes would believe he disappeared, but that couldn't be helped.

  ****

  Isabella watched in disbelief as the man vanished as if he had never been there, but she knew he had. His aura still lingered with swirling colors in the mist.

  Fear knotted in her throat as she skidded to a halt in front of Jo
hanna. What had the man done to her friend? She knelt down, grabbing Johanna's shoulders and shaking her. Johanna moaned, but her eyes fluttered opened. "Johanna, are you all right? What happened?"

  "He was here," Johanna mumbled. She turned away as if she wanted to fall back to sleep.

  Isabella shook her awake. "Who was here?"

  "My boyfriend." She smacked her lips together and smiled dreamily.

  Chapter Fourteen

  "Isabella?" Harrison called out, frantic to find her before it was too late. The mist was all wrong. His nostrils flared as the pungent scent of blood stung his nostrils.

  "I'm over here," Isabella called, giving away her location. "Hurry, it's Johanna. Something's happened to her."

  Harrison ran over to them, fear slamming into him making his gut clench. He hunkered down on the other side of Johanna and leaned in close. His gaze swept over her features, taking in her death-like pallor. Her flowery scent that he adored was nearly non-existent, but she appeared unharmed. No punctured wounds at her neck or on her wrists. The blood he'd picked up wasn't hers.

  "I'm fine," Johanna murmured as she tried to sit up by herself. "I'm just exhausted."

  "We have to get you to the hospital." Isabella glanced at Harrison, worry creasing her brow.

  "No." Johanna sat up straighter, forcing her eyes opened. "I'm fine. Please, just help me back to the hotel. I need some sleep that's all." She stood and stumbled forward.

  Isabella grabbed her arm and looped it around her neck supporting her weight. Harrison took the other side.

  "Are you sure you're okay?" Harrison asked.

  "I'm fine," Johanna insisted again. "I haven't slept well and it's caught up with me." Johanna shrugged away from Harrison and Isabella. "Really, you're both making more out of this than need be."

  "Making more out of this?" Isabella's voice rose. "Johanna, you said your boyfriend was here. Why would he leave you to take a nap in a cemetery?"

  "I said he was here?" Her brows furrowed then she shook her head. "I must have been dreaming. He's out of town. I…"

  "You're going to the hospital," Isabella insisted.

  "No, I said. I won't go." Her voice spoke of determination.

  Harrison didn't see the sense in arguing with Johanna in her frame of mind. It would only prove to agitate her more. Instead, he scooped her up into his arms. A squeal escaped her lips and she threw her arms around his neck in reflex. Her face flamed a nice shade of red, making her cheeks stand out like bloodstains against her sheet-like pallor. "If you won't go to the hospital, you're going to let me carry you back to the hotel." He gave no room for negotiation.

  "Uh…" She glanced at Isabella who nodded that she should accept. Her gaze shifted back at Harrison. "It seems I have little choice since I'm already in your arms."

  He chuckled, surprised at her witty sense of humor. "So you are." He marched with ease through the graveyard, heading toward the street. He knew Isabella followed behind him. He could hear her soft sure steps. "Why don't you rest your head on my shoulder?" He glanced at Johanna, hoping she'd take him up on the invitation.

  "I don't—"

  "You can trust me." He lowered his voice for her ears only. "I would never harm you, Johanna. You mean too much to me." He cleared his throat, wondering why that declaration flew from his mouth. "I care about you," he clarified. "So does Isabella."

  "You care about me?" She sounded surprised. He couldn't blame her. Their conversations consisted of a few words before she bolted as if he would devour her. A chuckled escaped him as the vision of nibbling the tender flesh near her ear came to mind.

  "Are you laughing at me?" Johanna's brows drew together over the bridge of her nose.

  "No. Never," he vowed. "I was only thinking now I have you captive and you can't run away from me."

  "I don't run away from you," she defended herself.

  "Really?" Doubt rang in the one word and she sighed, clearly knowing he spoke the truth.

  "Okay, maybe I do."

  "Why?" He wanted to understand her fear of him. Maybe if he understood what she was afraid of, he could rectify it.

  "The way you look at me. It's like you're the Big Bad Wolf and I'm Little Red Riding Hood."

  He chuckled. How close she was to the truth. "Ah. I'm must work on my flirting then. I had not meant to frighten you."

  "Flirting? With me?" her voice squeaked. "I… have a boyfriend."

  "Last I checked, you didn't have a ring on your finger." Moon shifters didn't exchange rings when they bonded, but he knew humans did.

  They had reached the hotel all too soon. He wasn't ready to relinquish his burden.

  "But what about Isabella?" Johanna asked.

  "Isabella?" His brows drew together in confusion.

  "Well, I thought… I thought you had a thing for her."

  He shook his head. "She's a friend, no more, Little Red Riding Hood."

  "The room is on the second floor. I'll just…uh…go up ahead." Isabella swept by them after she held the door open for them. He had forgotten for the moment Isabella was with them. The rest of this conversation would have to wait.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The hotel suite had two rooms. There was a pullout sofa in the sitting room and kitchenette off to the side separated by a partition wall. The other room was a bedroom with a full size bed. Harrison waited until Isabella tucked Johanna into bed so he could speak with her. Isabella emerged from the bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

  "How is she?" Harrison asked, eyeing Isabella closely.

  Isabella's eyebrows furrowed. Not a good sign. "I don't know."

  "I think you do," he encouraged her.

  She frowned at his words then nodded. "She's not well."

  He wanted to question her further, but if he did, Isabella would want answers too. "I'll be around if you need me," he told Isabella. "Let me add my number to your mobile phone."

  She fished her phone out of the back pocket of her jeans and handed it to him.

  "I mean it, Isabella. If anything seems strange, or if Johanna's condition worsens, ring me." Once he had his number listed, he handed her the phone.

  She stared at him for a long moment. "May I ask you something?"

  "Anything," he said and meant it.

  "You won't hurt Johanna, will you?"

  "Hurt her? No, of course not. Why would you say that to me?" Then it dawned on him, she overheard some of Johanna and his conversation on the walk over.

  "Johanna doesn't need her heart broken," she told him. "Not that I'm saying you would, but… You really do like her, don't you?"

  "Aye." He nodded. More than he should. "I like her and I have no intentions of hurting her. Perhaps you should have more care over my heart." He gave her a whisper of a smile.

  "Yours?" Surprise lit her features.

  "I'm unattached and standing in the sidelines. She's the one with the boyfriend. Remember?"

  "Hmm." She pursed her lips together, making him curious.

  "Don't you like her boyfriend?"

  "I don't know him. I've never met him. I don't even know his name. It's like… Well, like she wants to keep him a secret." Her slender shoulders lifted in a shrug.

  Odd, Harrison thought. Johanna and Isabella were best friends. Why hadn't Johanna introduced her boyfriend to her?

  "Harrison, when you met up with us at the cemetery, did you… did you see anyone else there?" Isabella asked him, pulling him out of his thoughts.

  "No. Why, did you?"

  "I thought someone was with Johanna, but when I came closer she was alone."

  "It was foggy. Sometimes low clouds can play tricks on your eyesight."

  Isabella brushed a dark curl away from her face and tucked it behind her ear. "I know, but Johanna told me her boyfriend had been with her." She shook her head. "But that doesn't make sense." She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Maybe she was only disoriented and I imagined the figure over her. Like you said, it was foggy."

  Neither of the
m believed the flimsy explanation for a moment. Someone had been out there. If it were Johanna's boyfriend, it proved an odd behavior for someone who supposedly cared about her. Harrison feared it wasn't Johanna's boyfriend, but the Soul Taker and they had interrupted his attempt to extract Johanna's soul.

  Isabella's hand touched his forearm, drawing his attention. "Tell me I shouldn't worry."

  "I wish I could." He didn't want to keep Isabella in the dark. She needed to keep watch over Johanna. "Will you do me a favor?"

  Her gaze swept over his features. "On one condition."

  "Name it."

  "We'll have a real chat—you and me—and you'll tell me what is going on. No sidestepping. I want the truth."

  He nodded. "I'll be home tomorrow. We'll make plans then."

  "Good. Now what's your favor?"

  "Don't open the door to anyone tonight." He didn't want to scare her, but he also didn't want to leave both women unprotected. If he could park himself here, he would, but he had to find Garran. It would be light in a few hours and the vampire needed to find shelter before the sun fried his arse. "Johanna needs her rest and even if that boyfriend is hanging around, he's the last person you need to invite in. Do you understand? Don't invite anyone in." He didn't want to take a chance that the Soul Taker might fool them into opening the door.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Isabella opened the bedroom door to check on Johanna. She rested comfortably, her chest rising and falling as if on command. Johanna's colors flickered around her like sprites that were too drunk to fly straight. It didn't scream I'm sick, but her aura wasn't right.

  What was going on with her best friend? Why did she plop down in a graveyard to take a catnap? Was it her boyfriend who left her, or was it someone else? The serial killer Harrison hunted? A passerby who became spooked because he found a woman resting against a gravestone in the cemetery?