Soul Bound: Dark Souls, Book 1

by Anne Hope

  David released a bitter snort. “When the ambulance finally showed up, she didn’t have a scratch on her. The medics thought I was nuts. For a while, so did I.”

  He went silent, lost in thought. Then he found his voice again. “I should’ve left her with them and never looked back. But I couldn’t. She was so lost, completely alone in the world, with nothing but a name to anchor her. So I brought her home with me.”

  His expression grew distant and misty. “I knew she was dangerous. The second I met her, something inside me changed. She made me angry, depressed, even violent, but I didn’t care. I had to be near her.”

  Lia thought of Cassie, of her unhealthy obsession with Jace, and understood.

  “We only made love once, but one time was all it took. She got pregnant.” His voice dropped a notch as he angled a condemning look at Jace. “I wasn’t particularly interested in becoming a father, but I was willing to do it, for her.”

  If Jace was affected by his father’s shameless rejection, he hid it well. Lia went to sit beside him, but when she reached for his hand, he yanked it away. Something told her he didn’t want her tapping into his thoughts right now. His eyes never strayed from his father’s.

  “I was going to ask her to marry me the night she disappeared. Came home from work with a bottle of champagne and a two-karat diamond in my pocket, but she was gone. She left with nothing but the clothes on her back and my unborn child growing in her belly.”

  Lia frowned. “I don’t understand. You’re the one who raised him.” The dreams flashed through her head, angry images that made her pulse pound. She thought of the pigeon, of the way he’d snapped its neck without mercy, of the desperate, hollow feeling she’d experienced afterward. “Quite badly, I may add.”

  For a second David looked confused, as if he’d just awakened from a nightmare. Then he directed a sharp glare her way that cut her off at the knees. She felt like a child again, weak, at his mercy. She reminded herself that it was Jace he’d hazed and debased, not her, but that did little to comfort her.

  “What do you know?” he spat.

  She met his unflinching gaze. “Enough to conclude you were a poor excuse for a father.”

  Fury had David Cutler slapping his palms against the wooden arms of his chair. “I tried to save him.”

  Lia opened her mouth to offer a retort, but Jace silenced her by squeezing her arm. “Trust me,” his mind whispered to hers.

  “How?” Jace focused that penetrating stare on his father again. “How did you find me? How did you know what I’d become?”

  “She brought you to me,” he replied without hesitation. “Right after you were born. Seeing her again after all those months—” David shook his head. “It wrecked me.”

  “What did she say?” Jace persisted.

  David swallowed as if to wash down something sour. “She told me she was some kind of half-breed and so were you. That there was this darkness inside you that would take you over someday. She begged me to keep you safe, no matter how crazy you made me. ‘Whatever you do,’ she said, ‘don’t let him die.’” David paused, seized the sides of his chair in a metal grip. “I thought she was crazy. But then she showed me things, things no human could do, and I knew she was telling the truth.”

  Sadness rearranged the old man’s features. “I wanted her to stay, to marry me just like I’d always planned, but she refused. Said she was poison to me and that I was lucky she hadn’t killed me by making love to me.”

  Silence swelled to fill the small, sterile room. Lia stole a glance at Jace, and her stomach bucked. A fierce glitter burned in his eyes, and the note of quiet resignation she caught on his face made her heart ache.

  He understands. He knows how it feels to want something you can never have.

  “What happened to her?” Jace asked. “Regan. My mother.”

  “I don’t know. She disappeared again.” A sob rattled in David’s chest. “Never saw her again…until today.”

  The shock that rippled through Jace echoed her own. “How long ago did she leave?”

  David Cutler slumped in his chair, spent. His eyes glazed over. “Hasn’t aged a day.” Tears glistened in his eyes. “Still so beautiful, so perfect, so…empty.”

  “What did she want?” Jace pushed, but David had retreated inside himself.

  “She was right. She is poison, a cancer that’s eaten away at my sanity for over thirty years. She ruined me. Ruined my life. I should’ve let her rot by the side of that road.”

  Jace expelled a long string of air. “I’ve lost him. He’s shut me out.”

  Lia didn’t understand what he meant.

  “I’m tired.” David began to sob openly. “So tired. I just want it all to end.” With unexpected speed, he rocketed to his feet and overturned the chair he’d been sitting on. An agonized howl tore from his throat as he proceeded to trash the entire room. Drawers and their contents clattered to the floor, a plastic plate flew across the room, followed by several paperbacks.

  Ducking to avoid getting hit, Jace wrestled the older man to the ground to halt his tantrum.

  “Let me go,” David raved. “Let me go, you son of a bitch.”

  Two orderlies and a nurse suddenly poured into the room. The orderlies peeled Jace off his father, dragging him out into the hall.

  “What in heaven’s name just happened in here?” the nurse asked Lia, not attempting to hide the condemnation in her tone.

  “He lost it and started throwing things,” Lia explained. “Jace stopped him.”

  Still sobbing, David Cutler lay curled in a fetal position on the floor.

  The nurse fell to her knees and injected him with a sedative. “Get out of here,” she ordered. “Both of you. This man’s had enough visitors for one day.”

  Tension hung thick and heavy between them as they drove back to the mansion on Siletz Bay. Jace refused to take her back to her townhouse, and his childhood home was the only place that offered the isolation he craved. Today Lia had seen firsthand what kind of impact he could have on people, and she’d be lying if she said it hadn’t unsettled her.

  “It’s not your fault,” she consoled.

  His only reply was a caustic snort.

  “Your father’s in that place because he’s mentally unstable.”

  “Because he was stupid enough to love my mother, to raise me.”

  The road curled ahead, a gray ribbon dappled by sunlight. Tall, green-capped trees shivered in the wind, scattering shadows along their path.

  “I exist for one reason and one reason only.” His mouth was set in a firm, unflinching line. “To spread corruption and despair. To destroy humanity.” Self-loathing twitched in his jaw. “You better run while you can, Lia. That could be you in a few years.”

  She refused to believe that. “I’m different. Incorruptible. Cal said—”

  “I don’t give a rat’s ass what Cal said. If I wasn’t convinced those soul-thieving bastards are coming after you, I’d be out of your life in a flash.”

  Disappointment made her breath hitch. “You don’t mean that. We have a connection—”

  “We’ll always have a connection. Whether I’m around or not. Maybe I should’ve joined the Watchers, let Cal shield you or whatever it was he said he could do.”

  “No.” Determination coursed through her veins, hot and insistent. “We were brought together for a reason. There’s something we’re meant to accomplish.”

  “Don’t go all prophetic on me. Life is what we make of it. Fate’s nothing but a series of choices.” For one thunderous heartbeat, his gaze brushed hers. “I’m choosing to keep you alive, any way I can.”

  “And I’m choosing to see this through.”

  He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. The fight drained from his face, exposing a shattering defeat. “But at what cost?”

  “I can’t believe you just let him walk away.” Marcus towered over Cal, who sat in his office, staring out the window as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
“We had him exactly where we wanted him—”

  “We can’t force him to fight, Marcus. That’s not the Watchers’ way.”

  Every instinct Marcus possessed screamed they’d made a huge mistake. “If Cutler really is the one fated to destroy Athanatos, then he has to join us, one way or another. Otherwise, the prophecy means shit.”

  “If he is the one, every choice he makes will lead him to the same destiny. That which has been written by the angels will always come to pass.” Cal was versed in Enochian script, the language of the angels. Every so often, he intercepted a message from them, which was how the Watchers had learned of the prophecy.

  “You’re forgetting there are two conditions to the prophecy.” With the fluid grace of a bird, Cal rose from his desk and approached him. “‘A Hybrid shall be reborn, and he shall join the Golden One. His energy will be strong, almost as pure as that of the Nephilim that spawned him. In the wake of a great sacrifice, he will reclaim what was once his and what he lost, whereupon the wrath of Heaven shall be unleashed. Lightning will slash the sky and Heaven’s light will rain upon the soulless, and he who is immortal shall fall.’”

  Listening to Cal recite the angels’ prediction verbatim triggered something within Marcus, and understanding dawned. “You wanted him to leave. With her.”

  “They need time to bond. The prophecy cannot be fulfilled without sacrifice. And there cannot be sacrifice without love.”

  If Cal’s interpretation of the prophecy was accurate, not only did Jace Cutler need to join the ranks of the Watchers to defeat Athanatos, he had to take back his lost soul. “If he is the one, and if he fulfills his destiny, what happens to Lia Benson?”

  Cal shook his head. “Once the two souls in her breast have fused, one cannot be taken without the other.”

  “So she’ll die.”

  “That is the most likely outcome. Yes.”

  Marcus wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He’d taken an oath to protect human lives, and now Cal was asking him to sit back and watch while one was destroyed. “If you want Cutler to take her life-force, why did you tell him his kiss could kill her?”

  Cal absently twirled his ancient silver band. His gaze grew soft and distant. “Because nothing proves more enticing than the forbidden.”

  Seeing people manipulated this way, even for the cause, made him extremely uncomfortable. “What about her immunity? You said her soul couldn’t be taken.”

  “I said it couldn’t be taken by force. Not in its current form.” Cal reclaimed his position at his antique, scuffed desk. “Her spirit must first be broken or—” He paused.

  Marcus hated when Cal did that—start a sentence he had no intention of finishing. “Or what?”

  “She must willingly hand it over.”

  “What person in her right mind would purposely give up her soul?”

  Beyond the window at Cal’s back, dusk made the sky bleed. “You’d be surprised how far humans are willing to go for love.”

  True, Marcus didn’t know much about love. The human heart was as much a mystery to him as existence itself. Despite their innumerable weaknesses, mortals possessed an inner strength that defied comprehension or reason. “What about Athanatos? Until Cutler agrees to join us, he remains vulnerable.”

  “I have taken measures to protect him and Lia Benson. Athanatos will not be able to track them.”

  “You’ve cloaked them?”

  “For the time being. All that’s left for us to do now is wait. Wait for the future to unfold.”

  “If you’re wrong, inaction on our part could destroy them both.”

  “And if I’m right, a major threat to humanity will be eliminated, and Jace Cutler will receive a rare and precious gift.” A determined gleam came into Cal’s steel-colored eyes. “He will get his soul back.”

  Marcus wished he had a fraction of Cal’s faith and confidence. The popular belief was that a Hybrid couldn’t extinguish his own soul, but no Hybrid had ever put that theory to the test. As far as he was concerned, there were too many unknowns, too many shades of gray, for him to fully accept what his leader was telling him. “And if he does, what then? Will he become human again?”

  Cal shook his flaxen head. “Once a Hybrid turns, there’s no going back. The darkness is in control now, so there’s no chance of Cutler reclaiming his human frailties. Quite the contrary, if he were to ingest this soul, it would sustain him forever, fueling him, making him stronger than any other Hybrid in existence.”

  “He would become that powerful simply by reacquiring his old soul?”

  “I strongly suspect this is no ordinary soul. You said Lia was able to project energy. Only a soul forged by an archangel can do that. Not only would such a soul be virtually impossible to extinguish, but it would grant its bearer unspeakable power.”

  Marcus had never heard of such a thing, but Cal seemed too convinced to be talking hypothetically. “You sound like you speak from experience. Has anything like this happened before?”

  Cal was quiet for an exceptionally long time. So long, Marcus didn’t think he would answer his question. Then he finally spoke. “Once, ages ago, but it wasn’t a Hybrid who acquired an archangel’s soul. It was an Ancient.” Perplexing pain laced his voice.

  “Who was it?”

  A deep, piercing sadness cleaved his leader’s face. “The very creature we hope Jace Cutler will destroy.” Cal’s eyes met Marcus’s again, and this time barely contained fury bubbled within them, overshadowing grief. “Athanatos.”

  Night fell like a dark blanket to obliterate the day, with only a few stars poking through the blackness. Jace hadn’t spoken another word the whole drive home. When they reached the house, his mood didn’t improve. In fact, he seemed to sink even deeper into depression.

  After handing her some women’s clothing he’d found in a box in the attic, which she assumed had once belonged to his mother, he’d left her in one of the guest rooms and vanished. She donned a nightgown—a soft sheath of silk that revealed far more skin than she was accustomed to revealing—and padded down the vast staircase in search of him. It was strange how intimately she knew this house, as if she’d lived here her whole life. The walls welcomed her, even as an echo of foreboding bounced off their deep maroon surfaces. These walls had seen a lot. If everything was energy, then they’d absorbed some of the misery that had once filled these halls.

  All the colors in this house were rich and bold—bright moss greens, cerulean blues, mustard yellows—accented by dark wooden borders and white ceilings. Several elaborately patterned carpets lay scattered across the mansion. All appeared made of the priciest Persian silk. Impressive chandeliers adorned most rooms, their crystals sadly dulled by dust. The one that hung over the staircase must have been an impressive sight once, before neglect had set in.

  Music suddenly filled the air, a mournful aria that made Lia’s gut clench and emotion pool in her throat. She followed the hypnotic sound to the study. Jace sat at the grand piano in the center of yet another vast room, tapping out the notes. His movements were so smooth, his bond with the melody so profound, he became one with the music.

  Every chord resonated inside her. With a few hesitant steps, she closed the distance between them and sat down next to him. The music ended on an abrupt note. “Please don’t stop. That’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.”

  His gaze traveled over her body, more tangible than a caress. He drank in the sight of her. Heat was contagious, and a firestorm swept through her. It ignited in the pit of her stomach and quickly spread to all her limbs. Only his touch could temper the flames. The very touch he insisted on denying her.

  He tried to play again, but the notes were choppy this time. He withdrew his hands from the keyboard. “I can’t. The inspiration’s gone.”

  He was lying. She could tell. The music he played was more intimate than sex. It drew them together, merged their souls more effectively than a plundering kiss. And he didn’t want that. With steel-tipped reso
lve, he fought to preserve the tenuous barrier that separated them.

  Lia’s fingers vibrated with energy. She ran their tips over the keys, wondering if she could play. Tentatively, she beat out a note or two. “He got you this piano,” she told him. “Your father.”

  Jace didn’t move, didn’t as much as look at her. The only indication he’d heard her was a slight twitch in his jaw.

  “He forced you to take lessons because he thought it would give you discipline, keep you focused.”

  He angled a glance her way. “That certainly didn’t turn out as planned.” Silence swelled between them. “Tell me, since you seem to know a heck of a lot more about me than I know about myself, what kind of man was I? Answer honestly.”

  She hesitated. What could she say? That he drank too much? Cheated on his girlfriends? Spent most of his nights in sleazy bars or in casinos trying to coax quarters out of slot machines?

  “So that’s how it was,” he said. “I was a real prince, huh?”

  She’d forgotten he had a direct line to her thoughts. “Those things…they’re just what you did, not who you are. You decided a long time ago never to let anyone get close to you, so you shaped yourself into something most likely to repel people. Deep down you were lonely, lost and misunderstood. All you really wanted was to belong somewhere.”

  An incredulous grunt resounded from his throat. “Right. Poor, misunderstood Jace Cutler.” He shook his head. “Don’t make excuses for me, Lia. I was a total ass. It’s about time you and I accept that.”

  He jackknifed to his feet and began to stalk the room. “You have no idea what it’s like not to recognize yourself. To not know what you hate more, the creature you were or the creature you’ve become.” Tension snaked through his body, hardening the square set of his shoulders, the flat, rippled surface of his abdomen. Lia could see his muscles bunching beneath the thin cotton T-shirt he wore.

  Without warning, he turned on her. “I almost wish you weren’t around so I wouldn’t have to feel so damn much. I liked it a hell of a lot better when I was numb inside.”