Soul Bound: Dark Souls, Book 1
Page 3
He rubbed his eyes, propped his elbows on his knees. “You actually expect me to believe I came back from the dead?”
“No.” Irritation spiked in her veins. “I hardly believe it myself. But you asked what happened, and I told you.”
“None of this explains why my memory’s a total blank. Or why I’m seeing things.”
She pulled out her small flashlight. “What exactly are you seeing?”
“An aura. Right now, there’s this gold halo pulsing off your skin. Don’t take this the wrong way, Doctor, but you’re too damn bright for me.”
For the first time since this whole ordeal started, her lips tingled with the desire to smile. “Let me have a look.” Gently, she tilted his head back and brushed her finger over his lid. A bolt of electricity poured out of him, spilled into her. Or maybe it was the other way around. She snatched her hand away.
Interest sparked in his spring-colored eyes. So she’d been right. They were green. Maybe she’d registered a lot more about the photograph than she’d believed.
“You felt that? The energy?”
Needles prickled every inch of her flesh. “We probably just shocked each other. It’s been known to occur on occasion.” She forced a smile, hesitantly reached for him again. This time she knew what to expect, and the current that zipped through her settled into a surprisingly soothing thrum. Her own lids grew heavy, and she nearly dropped her head back and lost herself in the lulling warmth of it.
He cupped her face with strong, brazen hands. The connection resounded deep within her, in a place that was just now coming alive. “You are pure heat, Lia. I want that heat, ache to possess it. To possess you.” His mouth was so close, she tasted the sweetness of his breath on her lips.
In that one crazy heartbeat when his presence consumed her, she almost grasped what he meant. Every corner of her being flared with awareness, and the violent need that shot through her nearly cut her off at the knees.
Reality rushed in to snap her back to her senses. He was Cassie’s boyfriend. It made no difference that he didn’t remember her or that they’d broken up last month. Lia had no business reacting to him this way. She was a professional. A doctor.
“Cassie told me you’re unnaturally gifted when it comes to women. I finally understand what she meant. Now are you going to behave and let me examine you?”
His gaze never strayed from her face. “Touch me again at your own risk.” A silent dare shimmered in his eyes, even as something dark and hypnotic churned in their depths.
This time, she refrained from laying her fingers on him and simply flashed the light over his irises. His pupils weren’t dilated, which ruled out a concussion. There honestly didn’t seem to be anything physically wrong with the man. “I’d like to run an MRI, in case there’s something we’re missing. Memory loss and distorted vision are both symptoms of head trauma. Or a neurological disorder. Have you been experiencing any migraines?”
“Nope. Physically, I’m in top shape.”
I can see that.
“How about numbness?”
“I was, until you walked in.”
Her heart spun, then slammed into her ribcage with a painful thud. “Let’s keep this professional, please.”
“Right. Professional. Is that what I am to you? Just another run-of-the-mill patient?”
“That’s exactly what you are.”
This time, his smile held no hint of humor. Intensity flowed off him in sheets. “In that case, tell me, why is your heart beating so fast I can hear it pounding in my head?”
She pocketed her flashlight and briskly secured a safe distance between them. “That’s impossible. You can’t hear my heart without a stethoscope.”
“You should know. You’re the doctor.” A silent challenge underscored his words, as if he was daring her to come clean, if not with him, then with herself.
“I’ll go schedule that MRI for you.” She retreated toward the door. “Try to get some rest.”
The staff lounge was quiet, empty save for Lia, who was busy pouring herself a cup of coffee, and that served Diane’s purposes just fine. She had a job to do. One that would require a great deal of concentration and privacy.
Silent as the wind, she breezed in and bolted the door with the power of her mind. Thankfully, Lia didn’t hear the lock click in place or the sound of Diane’s soft-soled shoes whispering over the carpet as she approached. She was too lost in thought.
That was the cross humans bore. A soul could be a cumbersome thing. Emotion clouded the mind and the senses, made a person weak and blind to the energy surrounding them.
Lia brought the coffee to her mouth, let the paper cup linger against her bottom lip for a few seconds. Shoulders hunched, she secured one arm around her middle, as if struggling to hold herself together.
Human beings were such weak, pathetic creatures—defenseless little lambs living in the constant presence of an invisible wolf. They thought they were safe, that their actions were their own, that their souls were immortal. But they were fooling themselves. If they knew what lurked in the dark—or in bright daylight—they’d never sleep soundly again.
This one had good instincts. She spun around before Diane could reach her, and that was saying a lot, because Diane was as fast as she was silent.
Coffee spilled to soak the front of Lia’s white lab coat. “Good God, are you trying to kill me?”
I wish I could. Her life-force was compelling, strong and electric. The rush a soul this powerful would give her…
She chased the tempting thought from her mind. That wasn’t what she was here to do. An unexplained death was sure to draw the attention of the Watchers, something Athanatos was determined to avoid, at least until Cutler no longer posed a threat. If she was to become his queen, she had to do everything in her power to please him.
“I didn’t realize you were in today, but I’m glad you are.” Lia grabbed a wad of paper towels from a nearby table and began patting herself dry. “We need to talk about what happened last night.”
“That’s why I’m here.” Diane’s smile was meant to be disarming, but Lia wasn’t fooled. Blatant mistrust shadowed her eyes.
“Why did you lie to Dr. Adams? We both know that man was stabbed.”
“You mean the one who miraculously came back to life?”
There it was, that flicker of doubt. Souls were flawed that way. They second-guessed everything, wallowed in crippling feelings of guilt and insecurity. That was what made them so susceptible to the Kleptopsychs’ persuasive charms.
Recovering quickly, Lia shook her head. “I don’t understand what’s wrong with everyone. Why doesn’t anyone remember seeing the stab wound? Even the paramedics deny having seen it.”
“No one remembers because there was no stab wound, Lia. Jace Cutler didn’t die last night…” Diane waited for the trance to take hold, for the doctor’s mind to bend to her will.
But the only haze that came over the other woman was one of anger. “Why are you talking to me like I’m a five-year-old?”
Shock and confusion left Diane momentarily speechless. Never before had she encountered a soul she couldn’t manipulate. Usually, all it took was a small suggestion and the past was rewritten, a person’s memories forever altered. But Lia had resisted her suggestion not once, but twice.
This meant only one thing. She’d have to make contact—a risky proposition under the best of circumstances, but with a life-force this tempting, it would require an inhuman level of discipline. Thankfully, Diane wasn’t human, and there was something she desired far more than the temporary high she’d get by ingesting a soul, even one as appealing as Lia’s.
Inhaling deeply, she grabbed the other woman by the side of the head and administered the kiss, careful to absorb only last night’s events.
All she got for her efforts was a sharp slap.
Lia’s cheeks blazed scarlet with fury and embarrassment. “Next time, ask me if I swing that way before you plant one on me.”
Lia pitched her coffee into the trash and made a beeline for the door. Diane considered stopping her, then thought better of it. Something wasn’t right here. Humans were weak, their souls as easy to mold as putty. Lia Benson was a different animal altogether. Until Diane identified that animal, she was best to keep her distance.
As for Jace Cutler, she knew exactly what he was and how to snuff the life from him, permanently.
He needed a shower. Badly. He could still smell the blood on his skin—an oddly disturbing coppery stench overshadowed by the soothing scent of Lia Benson’s floral perfume. That fragrance continued to taunt him long after she’d gone. He wished he could draw the enticing combination of jasmine and lavender inside him and keep it there. Wished he could experience the wild rush of her touch, the strange energy that had rippled through his veins the moment she’d entered the room. Jace didn’t know much about his life, but he knew one thing—he and the good doctor were connected somehow.
He tossed aside the sheet she’d handed him, then hastened to the bathroom, where a shower stall waited. It was a little confining given his large build, but it would have to do. He stepped under the jets, jolted when the frigid water slapped his flesh. Damn, that was all he needed. A cold shower. Maybe the universe was giving him a hint. He cranked the handle, but the water just wouldn’t heat up.
Better hurry and get this over with.
With brisk fingers, he grabbed the soap and began to lather up. Water pooled around his ankles, slowly inched toward his knees…
“What the goddamn hell—” Was the drain clogged? Why wasn’t any of the water escaping? He shot a glance outside. No puddles glistened on the black and white tiles, no thin rivulets streamed toward the door, and the water level just kept on rising.
He turned the lever to shut off the faucet, but the act was pointless. The door, too, appeared to be sealed shut. It was as if he were caught inside a bubble, insulated from the rest of the world, a fly trapped in a glass.
Water continued to gush, doggedly creeping up toward his chin. Soon it would swallow him.
A mirthless laugh echoed in his chest. What kind of idiot drowned in the shower?
Using his shoulder, he rammed his body into the door, hoping the impact would force it open. “Anyone out there?” he yelled. “I need some help.” He propelled himself against the door again. “Anybody hear me?”
A woman’s tall silhouette caught his attention. She stood in the doorway, nothing but a washed-out blur in the steam, a cascade of black hair framing her face.
How could there be steam when the water was ice cold?
He wiped a circle with his palm and met her penetrating black gaze. “Are you just going to stand there and watch? Get someone to turn off the water.”
She smiled, a flat smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
Could be he was just plain negative, but something told him she had no intention of helping him.
Chapter Four
Lia was on her way to tell Jace she’d booked his MRI when she heard a loud blast, similar to a small explosion, coming from his room. Terrified that he’d collapsed and injured himself, she burst through the door…and stopped dead in her tracks.
Water streamed from the bathroom, where Jace stood surrounded by a scatter of broken plastic, his gaze frantically searching the room. Dampness beaded on his skin, trickled down his body to puddle at his feet. He was naked again.
Looking sheepish, he flashed a crooked smile. “We really have to stop meeting this way.”
Shoving past him, she assessed the damage to the bathroom. The shower door had been completely pulverized. “What happened in here?”
“Got trapped in the shower.” He shrugged. “Had to break the door.”
She grabbed a towel from a nearby rack and flung it at him.
“How—?” She shook her head. No human being possessed the strength to wreak such destruction. Nothing short of a bomb could’ve caused the door to disintegrate this way.
She walked out of the ransacked bathroom and trudged to the bed, where she gripped the cold metal frame for support. She needed a moment to pull herself together. “I think I’m losing my mind.”
A soft breeze streamed in through the open window. Despite the warm day, a hollow chill rolled over her. Jace’s hand settled on her shoulder, and suddenly she felt the heat again. A million needles prickled her flesh simultaneously. Seared by the contact, she turned around to find herself trapped between his imposing figure and the bed.
He leaned his head forward and brought his mouth to her ear. His fingers latched on to the bed’s steel frame, bracketing her. “I can feel your confusion,” he whispered. “It’s spilling off your body like a current of pure electricity.”
With a hard shove aimed at his chest, she escaped the human snare he’d erected around her. “How about my anger? Do you feel that, too? What right do you have to come in here and trash the place?”
“I was about to drown in the goddamn shower. What would you have me do?”
“You honestly expect me to believe that?”
“Seems only fair, since you expect me to believe I came back from the dead.”
She fought to steady her racing pulse, in case he really could hear it. “I need to run a tox-scan on you…and on me. Maybe a viral check, too. Certain viruses have been known to cause hallucinations.”
Jace snickered. “You think you caught my crazy bug? Look around you. How do you explain all the water?”
“Clogged drain.”
Strong hands suddenly clasped her arms. “I know you want a rational explanation for all this, but you’re fooling yourself. You’re not going to get answers from an MRI or some stupid drug test. Something weird is going on, Lia. You feel it every bit as much as I do.” All levity had vanished from his face. He looked focused, lethal and so vital her heart tripped and crashed. “A dark energy is growing inside me. It’s alive, and for some reason it’s calling out your name.”
A shiver snaked through her, cold and silky. “Why me?”
“Damned if I know.” He suddenly released her, took a long step back. “But I’ve got to figure this thing out. Along with everything else about me. You said I dated your sister. I need to see her.”
“No.” There was no way she’d allow this man to worm his way back into Cassie’s life. Especially now, after everything she’d witnessed.
“Why the hell not?”
“Because you’re bad for her.” Her sister was a different person when she was with him—erratic, more emotional than usual, depressed. Walking away from this guy was the best thing she ever did. “Cassie’s not like you and me. She’s fragile.” And she’d always been a sucker for a bad boy with a really good sob story. One glance into Jace Cutler’s haunted eyes and she’d fall like a bag of cement.
“I just want to ask her a couple of questions.”
“I said no.”
A beat of silence followed as he studied her. Unsettled by the intensity of his gaze, Lia slipped into the one role she was comfortable in, the one where all pretense fell away. The role of the conscientious doctor. “Still seeing that aura?”
He nodded. “Right now you’re lit up like a Christmas tree.”
“Your MRI’s tomorrow at noon.” She reached for the hypodermic needle in her pocket. “Sit down. I need some more of your blood.”
“Still think I’m on drugs?”
She gave him an if-the-shoe-fits look, then uncapped her syringe. “This might hurt.” She attempted to plunge the sharpened metal into his arm, but the needle snapped right off. “You’re in luck.” She waved the broken syringe. “Defective needle.”
His expression grew cryptic and distant. “Yeah, there are a lot of those going around today.”
The locket she wore around her neck—a gift from Cassie
for her sixteenth birthday—swung forward, and he clasped it between his fingers. “I can feel your energy vibrating in the gold,” he purred. “It’s warm and shiny, like you.”
Something inside her unraveled, then gathered in a tight knot. She pulled away from him and hastened to the door. “I’ll send one of the nurses to take another blood sample. And maintenance to mop up this mess.”
“Just don’t send that freaky brunette.”
“What freaky brunette?”
“The one who just left my room. Didn’t you cross her on your way in?”
Lia shook her head. “There was nobody here but you.”
Turning toward the open window, his gaze grew vacant again. “Forget I said anything. Probably just another one of my delusions.”
She studied him, convinced if she concentrated hard enough she would grasp his thoughts. But the sensation died as quickly as it was born.
Her body screamed with hunger, so Diane made her way to the cardiac wing, where over half a dozen patients waited for the grim reaper to pay them a visit. Nobody would be the wiser if one were to pass away a little sooner than expected. That was the beauty of working in a hospital.
Her attack on Jace Cutler had depleted her, especially since she’d missed the feeding last night. She needed to replenish her energy if she was to successfully complete her assignment. There was no time to wait for a patient to die of natural causes. She had to forcefully remove someone’s soul, right here, right now, something Athanatos strictly forbade. Only Rogues traipsed around, willfully stripping people of their souls with no thought to the consequences.
But Diane wasn’t going rogue. This was necessity, not avarice, she reasoned. Rogues didn’t bother to conceal their attacks. She would cover her tracks, make sure no one suspected a thing.
There was one particular patient who never got any visitors—an old man, brittle and withered, who suffered from congestive heart failure. Diane entered his room, careful not to be seen. As usual, the shades were drawn, and she reveled in the concealing cloak of darkness. With each step she took, the man’s essence sang to her. Everything inside her shivered with need. His body was frail, but his life-force was strong.