Soul Taker's Redemption

by A. S. Hamilton

  That's when I heard the second bullet and I realised that someone in the vicinity was using magic to guide it around obstacles.

  I started to pull Jayden back, but I was a fraction of an instant too slow. It hit Jayden in the upper chest close enough to her collarbone to shatter it. Pain contorted her face and she exhaled with the shock of the impact.

  Fury rose swiftly within me, but I kept my voice calm as I said, 'Go to your room. Lie under the bed or on the floor until I return.'

  She was clutching at the wound, blood seeping through her fingers. Turning her towards her bedroom, I pushed her forward with enough momentum to get her going but not with the kind of force that would put her off balance. I used my will to give her an additional mental nudge, helping her push through her shock and get to safety.

  Inhaling deeply, I ignored the scent of Jayden's blood permeating the air and sifted through the energies. People who kill, particularly those who kill without the compulsion of survival driving them or the remorse of killing unnecessarily, acquire a taint. That taint gives their spirits a particular scent. I found such a scent and planes-shifted.

  As soon as I emerged from the shadow plane it became apparent as to why I had not detected the threat as well as who had been manipulating the environment so at least one bullet struck Jayden. A therilgalen was enshrouding a human assassin. We were in someone's living room. The assassin was tending to the weapon he had set up behind the closed curtains of an open window. A scan of his mind showed that although he could see Jayden's bedroom window, her curtains were drawn. To my further relief, the attacker, though protected by a therilgalen, was an ordinary human.

  I met the gaze of the therilgalen protecting the assassin. 'Qu-te-se.'

  My once second-in-command sneered. 'Could it be your master has let you off your leash?'

  Once we had been close friends and I think my defection hurt Qu-te-se more than actually made him angry, but he disguised that hurt as hate. We had met several times since and he had let his mask slip often enough for me to suspect that had I told him of my plans, had I explained why, perhaps he would have understood. Another thing occurred to me, in the Dark Realm, it might be necessary for Qu-te-se to maintain an outward attitude of hate towards me, being a friend to a traitor would not exactly gain him allies.

  As I was assessing my opponent, I realised his arms looked different. Where we have armoured scales on the outside of our forearms, Qu-te-se's arms also had four curving spikes, each longer than the last. What shocked me most was that they looked artificial, this was no manipulation of DNA, but an addition made of synthetic materials. Despite humans believing that other realms are more medieval in composition, many are far from it, and Ulyn created and had access to some highly advanced materials. Whatever the metal-like spikes were made of, my guess was that they could cause significant damage and deflect most weapons.

  'What has she done to you!'

  Qu-te-se flicked his glance downwards. 'Improvements.'

  'Was it due to an injury?'

  My response made him hesitate, like he had not expected sympathy, then he said, 'She needs no reason, you well know that, brother.'

  His use of brother surprised me, and further supported my thoughts that his hate was not more than a protective armour. Qu-te-se's gaze darted to the assassin. He was looking through the scope of what looked to be a very powerful rifle and was oblivious to our presence. 'It seems that my task is at an end. Considering we are both without supervision today, perhaps we should consider it a welcome reprieve.' A brief smile passed across Qu-te-se's lips and then he gave me a mock salute. 'On another battlefield, at another time, brother.'

  With that, he shifted planes.

  I was momentarily bewildered. Why hadn't he fought? There were standing orders to kill me. It may have been that he was instructed not to engage, but I was more inclined to think that without someone like Ulyn watching over him, without 'supervision' as he had said, he had chosen not to. A welcome reprieve, indeed. I had not been looking forward to fighting him. I wondered what he'd tell Ulyn and what she would say if she found out he hadn't attacked.

  Gods need to be worshipped; it gives them power. Thus, when Ulyn shows her devotion by emulating her master through 'improving' those under her control, Ceri-talen encourages it. Having been subjected to days and sometimes weeks of torture I was infuriated on Qu-te-se's behalf, despite our now opposing goals. Changing sides wasn't as straight-forward as now holding opposing views and no longer maintaining friendships with my former brethren. I did not hate Qu-te-se. In fact, I missed him, he had been an exceptional friend and hunting companion.

  My attention was drawn back to the assassin as he sighed. His rifle was on a specialised stand and positioned so that it was mostly hidden behind the curtains covering the window. He leaned back as he wondered why there were no signs of police and whether he had been mistaken and had achieved a killing shot as opposed to just wounding his target. He pulled out his phone and sent a text to the man in the car to go in and see if he could ascertain the status of the target. If he had struck his target, he planned to drive to Sydney and lie low. If he had missed… well, he'd need a new plan. He didn't know where the people who occupied this unit were, and he didn't like that kind of uncertainty, but his employer had been insistent, the job had to be carried out as soon as possible. What he found most perplexing was his employer's direction that the job be done at a distance. That would be because of me, those influencing these events would know that Aurealis had someone protecting Jayden.

  Dropping the shadows enshrouding me, I moved over to the assassin. Before he could register my presence, I slammed my fist into the side of his head. He dropped to the floor, limp with unconsciousness. With the immediate threat mitigated for the moment, I shifted back to Jayden's apartment.

  I found Jayden on the floor of her bathroom, one leg folded under her, the other outstretched, leaning against the side of the bath and the sink cabinet, breathing erratically as she fumbled through the scattered contents of a first aid kit. She had taken off her top and I could see the shredded skin and muscle of her wound.

  Blood was on everything.

  She turned a tear-streaked face up to me. 'Do you— do you— I need… I need a phone. I think mine's in the lounge. I need an ambulance.'

  The shake in her voice and the fear in her expression made me wish I'd killed the assassin.

  Kneeling with one leg on either side of her outstretched one, I gently cupped her cheek and gave her a reassuring smile. 'I am far more efficient at healing than an ambulance. Close your eyes.' She hesitated a moment and then followed my instruction. 'Now, breathe in slowly. It may hurt to breathe too deeply but do the best you can to regulate your breath.'

  It took me but a moment to drop her into a trance, sequestering her mind away from the trauma her body was experiencing. Healing is not a natural ability for me, but because I am able to manipulate energies, I was able to learn how from a light-dancer. It requires all my concentration though, so I drew on the shadow plane to enshroud us, just in case someone decided to try to enter the apartment and attack us. Then I set about repairing the damage. I took my time, making sure I did it correctly. I dissolved the bullet rather than drawing it out. I did not want to leave internal scars or unrepaired nerves. By the time I finished, my head ached and fatigue pulled at my senses. I found myself closing my eyes and rubbed at them with one hand.

  'Are you okay?'

  Opening my eyes, I met her gaze. 'Healing is not natural for me.' I found myself smiling and placed my hand on her shoulder and ran my thumb over the now unmarred skin. 'But as you can see, I spoke truly about my efficiency.'

  Jayden looked down. The blood was still there, but the skin beneath was flawless, just as it had been before.

  She returned my smile. 'You did.' She shivered then. 'Why is it so dark in here? I mean, even with the light off it's usually much brighter, even at night, because of the skylight.'

  I pushed the shadow pla
ne back and then, moving into a crouch, picked her up.

  'Hey, um, I don't think—'

  Before she could finish her objection, I placed her so she was sitting on the edge of her bed. Returning to the bathroom, I retrieved a washer from the shower. Wetting it, I wrung it out so it was damp but not dripping and returned to kneel at her side. As I cleaned the blood from her shoulder and collarbone, I realised she was watching me. I paused as I looked up. 'Would you rather do it yourself?'

  She frowned for a moment, as if disoriented, and then seemed to realise what I meant. 'Uh, no. You're fine. I was… I was just thinking that, um, there's a grace about you, no matter whether you're kicking ass or cleaning up bloody wounds. It made me think that for a being who defines himself as not being an angel, there's a very angel-like quality to you… Oh, I'm… I'm sorry, I'm babbling, now.' She exhaled suddenly. 'Look, I'll just get some clean clothes—'

  She got up abruptly, dodging around me and going to a dresser where she hastily pulled out some clothing before dashing into the bathroom and sliding the door shut.

  I rose, a little confused. I'd made her uncomfortable, but I was not sure why or how.

  In a surprisingly short time, only a minute or so, she opened the door. She was wearing a sleeveless top that ended in a kind of skirt-like hem, although it only covered her hips. It had a stalking panther on it. She still wore the black jeans she'd been wearing earlier.

  As she pushed the sliding door fully open, she wavered, groaning softly before her eyes fluttered closed. I moved to her side, holding her up. She was only unconscious for a moment because, before I could change position and lift her to the bed, she put her hand on my chest and looked up at me.

  'I do not feel well at all. Everything went black for a second. Did I actually pass out?'

  'Not quite enough to fall, but you started to. You need to be careful. You lost blood and although I repaired muscle and bone, your body still has work to do.'

  'I'll keep that in mind,' she murmured hoarsely.

  I felt her lean on me more, as if she was having trouble keeping herself up and steady. She was looking down now, and I bent to try to see her face as she moaned softly in distress.

  'Oh, I need to sit. I'm really dizzy.'

  I helped her back over to her bed, but she did not let go of me.

  'Just a moment, everything went black again.'

  Concerned I lifted her chin so I could see her eyes. She looked tired, but the pale-blue pools were clear.

  'Are you nauseous?'

  She gave me a slight nod. 'A little, but I don't think I'm going to throw up.'

  It was probably a combination of shock and blood loss. With her recent head injuries, her body would still struggle, even after the healing. I closed my eyes, shifting my spirit to a plane where I could fully interact with hers. The heady scent of it hit me and, for a long moment, I was utterly intoxicated. I did not want to consume it, though, I wanted to immerse myself in it, for here, on this plane, I could, if I wanted to. But it was a very intimate thing to do, especially for a being like me. Looking over her spirit, I could see it was very diminished. That was unusual—

  'Therion?'

  Jayden's voice brought me back to her plane and I looked at her. She'd said something, she looked worried. I could smell her fear, hear the thoughts that were clamouring for her attention; she'd almost died, she was thinking. What if they came back, she worried? She did not want to die. She felt sick. Exhausted. Depleted. I had an overwhelming urge to make her feel safe. To let her know that I would not let Ceri-talen take her soul. She would not end up like me, enslaved to masters who had no right to her spirit.

  'Do not fear, Jayden. I will take care of you. Give me but a moment and you will feel better.'

  And then I did it. I moved my spirit into hers, transferring part of my spirit to hers. Merging it, creating a shield about her soul. I didn't know how long it would last, as this was the first time I'd ever done such a thing. I hadn't even realised it was possible until this moment, but I wanted to protect her spirit, protect it with mine and I wanted it enough that the shield formed. Ceri-talen would not get this one. He had stolen me. Tortured me. Enslaved me. He would not get a chance to do that to this spirit, not if I had a choice in the matter.

  Immediately Jayden's spirit brightened, returning to its full brilliance. And instead of my spirit feeling diminished, I felt energised.

  Jay

  The bullet hurt like dragon's fire.

  One moment I was looking out the window, certain I'd seen… I couldn't remember what had caught my attention. I 'felt' Therion appear, somewhere to the side. The sun was at an inconvenient angle because it was starting to set, so I moved closer to the window as I tried to figure out what the movement was. I thought it came from one of the upper windows of the apartments in the building behind the market, but I didn't actually see anyone. It was like this weird intuition, but I wanted more than that. I wanted to see if I could see someone.

  Suddenly, Therion was there, right in front of me. A second later he grabbed me and thrust me to one side, but I couldn't figure out why. I didn't even hear a gunshot. Didn't hear it come through the glass. Didn't know anything about a bullet until a searing, stab of pain violently pierced my body.

  'Go to your room. Lie under the bed or on the floor until I return.'

  I looked at Therion, dumbfounded as I raised my hand to my collarbone. My brain was giving me a bunch of muddled messages, most of them hysterical. Sifting through them, I realised the dark-angel with the pretty eyes was right; I needed to get out of sight. Stumbling into the bedroom, I didn't fully realise I was bleeding until I took my hand away from the place where it hurt and it came away sticky and red. For one ridiculous moment I just stared at my hand, trying to figure out how and why blood was coming from it. Finally, my brain got into the right gear. I'd been shot. Someone had shot me.

  I looked down, taking in the ragged hole just beneath my collarbone. No wonder my collarbone was on fire and my shoulder ached like I'd been whacked with a baseball bat. I could see bone! Not a broken bone, but bits of bone and shredded skin and muscle. My vision started to fade to black, and I stumbled.

  Oh, no, no, no, no, no! I was not going to let myself pass out.

  I turned back to the bedroom door. I didn't remember closing it, but it was shut. I needed my phone. I needed to call for help. An ambulance. Police. My mum. I really needed my superhero mother. She'd won awards for bravery, for saving other peoples' lives. But now I needed her.

  The only problem was that in the other room, where my phone was, someone had tried to shoot me, and they hadn't been bothered by the complications of a window being in the way.

  I turned back, then moved to the left, intending on going to the bed. I hesitated as my gaze registered the window on the far side of the bed. It was like the one in the lounge, a bay-style window. I'd installed bookshelves all along the wall, framing the window, and put in a padded bench seat. When I read there, I'd often 'rest' my eyes by looking out at the park across the street. The curtains were drawn, so the person who'd shot at me couldn't see me… I found myself holding my breath for a moment while panic fought with logic. What happened if the person who'd shot me just decided to fire randomly through the window, regardless of the curtains? Did they want me dead enough to take that kind of gamble? Almost unconsciously, I found myself moving towards the bathroom. I only had one bathroom, but it had two doors, one to the main room that visitors could access and a shortcut for me from the bedroom. I closed both doors and just stood there for a moment, hurting, bleeding.

  My first aid kit! I had one in the cabinet under the sink.

  Dropping to the floor, I yanked one of the doors open, clumsily rummaging through the cabinet, dropping most of the contents on the floor until I found the first aid box I'd bought and never used. Fumbling with the clasp I made a sound of frustration as my hands refused to operate properly. Then the box seemed to explode open, spewing its contents all over the flo
or. I struggled for a moment to get my t-shirt off, sobbing and cursing as the pain tried to overwhelm me. I needed to stem the flow of blood. I needed saline, right? To clean the wound. I— I really needed an ambulance.

  Suddenly exhausted, I fell back against the tiled wall, leaning on the cabinet, not really having achieved anything. Why wasn't I more like my mother? She'd be thinking clearly. She'd have herself all bandaged up by now. I took as deep as breath as I could manage and assessed my situation. If they'd hit an artery, I'd have bled out already. The bullet must still be in there. I needed to staunch the flow of blood until I could get help or Therion came back. I didn't need to clean anything or bandage it, just place as much pressure on the wound as I could and keep calm. I took another steadying breath and patiently used my good hand to sort through the first aid items. I found some gauze padding and, after tearing the bag open with my teeth, went to press it against the wound. I cried out as the slightest touch resulted in excruciating pain. Where had Therion gone? I really needed that ambulance.

  A moment later the bathroom door slid opened and Therion looked in.

  'Do you—' I struggled to focus, 'do you— I need… I need a phone. I think mine's in the lounge. I need an ambulance.'

  He seemed immense, all that tallness in what was a relatively small room. I didn't expect it when he knelt, carefully placing each knee either side of my outstretched leg, the other was folded underneath me as I'd fallen more than sat.