Soul Stealer (22 page)

And now she was blushing. She covered her face, laughing, causing him to give a low chuckle, too. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“For what? That’s a good thing, right?”

She brought her hands up to rest on his broad shoulders. “A very, very good thing.”

“Should we stop?”

She pushed downward with her hips, causing his breath to catch. He even turned his head, mouth to his shoulder like he meant to bite himself to control his impulses.

“We should definitely not stop,” she whispered, craning her neck to kiss the hollow at the base of his throat, licking at his skin and tasting salt. She moved her hips again and he bit his lip next, dropping his forehead to her shoulder, breathing with intensity. So she did it again.

He
hollered. There was no other word for it. Before she could pull back from that thrust he clamped on to her hips, keeping his face to the nook of her neck and shoulder, then forcefully thrust into her again, catching her off guard. He reared back, pushed again. She dug in to his back now, nails holding on. He filled her completely, it was so invasive. She tried to angle her hips better, giving him more room. Each thrust became more urgent, closer together, less time to ready for it. He was just as out of control as she was, the rhythm of his hips keeping time with his own grunts and her cries. Her next orgasm basically tackled her, making her spasm head to toe. He followed immediately, his upper body giving out, covering her, continuing to move inside her as his own ecstasy worked its way through him.

When they were both still and only panting, she realized she was cradling him as best one can when the man you’re holding it at least twice your size. Her hand drew circles on his back, and he was softly kissing her collarbone in return.

For all the sweat and humanness of the act, it had been absolute heaven.

Chapter Twenty-One

Essum couldn’t keep up with this Praesul and his ridiculous appetite. They’d dispensed with seven people before the guy decided it was time to take a break because it was going to start getting pretty alarming with dead bodies piling up at this rate.

Back at his apartment, Praesul asked for some “absorption time.” Then he’d gone into Essum’s bedroom and shut the door.

At least it would still be dark for a few more hours so he could still get some shut-eye on the couch. He settled back in to the micro-suede cushions, sighing as he closed his eyes. Jesus, he was exhausted. Apparently finding good souls was hard work –

Suddenly he was ripped off the sofa and thrown across the room, hardly any time to “what the fuck” himself. As he hit the ground he rolled, springing to his feet, back to the windows, ready to fight. And then he thought he might pass out.

“How the fuck is this possible?”

Voro laughed, his shoulders shaking. “Essum, my friend. I caught your stink on the street below. How the fuck you been?”

He couldn’t have been more shocked if his dick fell off. He literally was seeing ghosts.

“Can’t talk, hey? Yeah, I bet you’re pretty tired. You and your freak show friend in there have sure been scaring the living hell out of a lot of people.”

He finally found his voice. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I’m really curious about your science project companion. What is he?”

Essum raised his jaw, his cool returning slightly. “You know very well what he is.”

“I didn’t think those things were around anymore.”

“They’re immortal. Where the fuck did you think they might have gone?”

Voro set his jaw and Essum took another short break to get his bearings. He thought Voro was gone, hadn’t he? So where he did think his old chum might have gone, since he was being all high and mighty on that same topic about Praesul?

“Where were you?” Essum finally repeated, calmer.

“I got jacked,” his old pal said, flopping down in the arm chair near the window where Praesul had first appeared. His nose twitched and Essum knew he could smell the bastard all over that leather.

“Jacked? By what?”

“An angel told me how to save Iola from having to take on the Sin Eating. Self-sacrifice, as it turns out, means you’re booted from our old club and the other side gets to keep you.”

Essum seated himself on the sofa again, but on the edge in case he had to get up fast. Voro was unpredictable, and he couldn’t be sure he was telling the truth since his lips were moving. “So what does that make you? An angel?”

“Nah. I’m … a nuisance. That they have to take care of.”

“That sounds … horrible.”

“It has its distractions that are quite pleasant.”

Essum had known Voro long enough to understand the smile on the guy’s face. Only that fucker could get laid in “heaven.”

“So … what brings you by?” Essum tried to keep it light.

“You’re not going to offer me a drink?”

“No.”

Voro chuckled. “Little tense there, Essum. Ease up.”

“What are you doing here?”

Voro rubbed his chin. “So … you’re in league with this … whatever it is. The thing is, he’s … kinda rendered one of my friends human. And I’m just wondering if that can be fixed.”

Fucking Voro and his huge brass balls. Laying it all on the table right at the start.  He had no sense of panache at all.

“You want me to help one of your new bestest buddies? That wouldn’t happen to be an angel, would it?”

“Cut the shit. You know it is.”

“Which one was it?”

“Does it matter? I just want to know if it can be fixed.”

Essum rubbed his jaw. “He’s not much on the … sharing, if you feel me.”

“Well, friend to friend, if you could ask I’d appreciate it.”

“He’s not going to tell me.”

Voro stood, adjusted his jacket, and smiled that smarmy fucking grin. “Then find out. Souls are missing – not just my friend’s. What happens to them? Are they eventually released? Or do I have to kill that cocksucker to release them? Because I will. I don’t know how, but I’ll find a way.”

Then, as Essum watched, Voro dissolved in to thin air over the span of a second or two. He stared at the spot just to make sure he wasn’t being fucked with, then sat back down on the sofa, exhaling.

Sin Eaters couldn’t vanish. They were tethered here a lot tighter than the other side was. That little disappearing act basically confirmed that of all the things Voro still might be, a Sin Eater wasn’t one of them.

Voro raised some good questions, even though Essum would hack off a limb before admitting it. He hadn’t wondered about the souls of those people Praesul was killing. Those bodies were an absolute kind of “dead” now that he thought about it. Not like the recently deceased – they were completely silent. Not an iota of soul to be seen or heard.

Praesul was feeding on souls to form himself, but would it end once he was whole? Or did he need to keep “feeding” once he was a walking deity?

Essum’s own self-preservation was in full gear. If the guy became immortal, what would that mean for his kind, too?

No going to sleep now. He had too much to mull over.

Claudia added a half-packet of sweetener to her coffee, stirring it in without watching. She had her eyes on the café door.

She needed to have her head examined, clearly. She should definitely not be sitting here by herself, having not told anyone where she was going and who she was meeting. She should not be waiting for Damien fucking Talon to walk through the door. She still thought he was a homicidal maniac, no?

Hell, she still couldn’t remember
what
had happened. For all the memories she did have, she couldn’t once remember him scaring her or hurting her.

He’d done plenty of everything else, she reminded herself, feeling her cheeks
color. She shook the thought away. The suggestion that he could have had a mean intention towards her or Iola just didn’t seem right. She’d seen enough of violent men to know their type. He wasn’t it. Trouble? Yes. But not the kind that went looking for blood and violence.

She felt him enter more than saw it. There was a marked estrogen peak in the place, as the few scraggly females in this part of town at this time of night caught sight of him and straightened on their plastic chairs, primping, pheromones almost clouding the air.

Claudia didn’t feel jealousy or possessiveness, possibly because she’d had him all over her and these women hadn’t. So that made her … smug?

Plus, he literally only had eyes for her as he brought his strut across the coffee shop and sat down across from her. She fought to keep from beaming at him. His attention was far too intoxicating.

“Mmm, Sergeant Bauer. I swear I can smell how good you taste.”

She inhaled. “Don’t say shit like that.”

He chuckled low and she had to shift in her seat. A laugh couldn’t be a vibrator, could it? “I missed you.”

“Really? Hmmm. That’s interesting. Likely not as interesting as where you’ve been.”

His smile didn’t even waver. “I can’t tell you.”

“So tell me what happened all those months ago. Because I have a jagged hole where that day happened, I can’t remember why I was at Jasper McKay’s apartment with Iola and a serial killer that day. And I don’t know how you ended up dead. Or, as it turns out, how and why you faked your death.”

His face didn’t change in the slightest. “Would you believe I was a spy?”

“Yes.”

“Then, I’m a spy.”

“Bullshit. You wouldn’t come back then.”

“I don’t know what to say other than, for your own good, I can’t tell you any of what you want to know. I never hurt you or Iola, Jasper McKay was going to kill me, and disappearing was the only thing I could do to keep the two of you safe. That serial killer, Goodwin, was just a pawn being used by McKay.”

Claudia was nodding, as that had been her sense all along, especially about Jasper and Charles Goodwin. Hell, Charles Goodwin had attacked her a few times, and Jasper McKay had damn near raped her. Those two being locked up over something she couldn’t recall didn’t really bother her.

But how can someone fake their death in this day and age?

“Did you get attacked? Was that part real?”

He shook his head in the negative. “I took myself out. For the better of everyone.”

“This doesn’t make sense.”

“I know this is a kind of torture for someone as thorough and curious as you. But that’s how it has to be.” He reached across the table. After a moment, she gave him her right hand, his large, dry palm engulfing her entire hand and giving it a squeeze, then just holding it. “I didn’t mean to cause distress, I swear it.”

He had such a strange way of speaking, beyond his accent. But hearing it again was a strange homecoming, especially with him holding her like that. Her skin seemed to have a very positive memory of him, too. It was positively humming to be catching up.

“I just couldn’t stop thinking about what happened and you … and every time I did I had weeks where I couldn’t sleep for all the headaches.”

“I’m sorry,” he replied, making her frown as a thought occurred to her.

“Did you hypnotize me to make me forget or something?”

That made him laugh and she fought the urge to smile again. “No, I don’t know how to hypnotize people. I’m just sorry, again, that I caused you any distress.” He brought her hand across the table and raised it to his mouth. “I’ve missed you,” he said softly, breath tickling the back of her hand just before he kissed her skin, the heat catching like dry scrub.

She closed her eyes against the surge racing from her chest throughout her limbs and into every hidden part of her that could be tickled, teased or pleased. She didn’t pull away, though.

He brought her hand back down, keeping it on his side of the table so she was leaning forward towards him.

“Is the coffee good?”

She just nodded, breathing through parted lips.

“Do you want to finish it?”

She shook her head no, and his smile came back: the private, sly and naughty one.

“Do you want to take me home with you?”

She nodded without hesitation. Christ, she couldn’t even talk.

“Then let’s go.”

Raphael watched Patrice return to bed, unable to wipe the smile from his face. She was wearing his T-shirt, pulling it lower over her thighs, aware of his eyes on her.

“Why do you do that?”

“What?” she asked, sliding in to bed next to him.

“Hide yourself from me.”

She shrugged. “A girl’s got things that she might not want a guy to see.”

He pulled her to his chest, loving the feeling of holding her close like this. “You’re perfect,” he mumbled, eyes closing.

She gave a dry laugh, hand resting on the centre of his chest. “You didn’t grow up with my mother, clearly.
Patrice, are you sure you need another piece of cake? You barely fit your pants as it is
. And that was on my birthday, by the by.”

“That’s terrible. I’m sorry. But … can I just say I think your body is absolutely splendid?”

She giggled. “Splendid?”

“All of it. I loved every touch and taste of you.” She shuddered and he opened his eyes again. “Where are your parents, by the way?”

“Dead. Car accident about ten years ago.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, squeezing her shoulders. “Do you have any other family?”

“I had a brother. This was his condo. But … he died about three years ago.”

“He did? Was he ill?”

She took a deep breath. “He killed himself. He jumped from the roof of this building.”

His grip on her tightened. “Oh, Patrice, I’m so sorry. Did you have any idea what was wrong?”

“Yeah. He was … he was upset by our parents’ death. He also had a problem with drugs. Then he … pushed a guy during a drug deal; the guy fell over and hit his head, died. It was an accident but it had been close to the death of our parents so he was kind of in a bad place anyway.” She took another deep inhale. “He was a few years younger than me. He was just finished university. He was in commerce, making great money. He got into some things, the drugs. Bad people always hanging around. When he crashed his car I tried to force him into some kind of program but … you can’t make a person see the errors of their ways. So I washed my hands of him, walked away. Told him I’d have nothing to do with him until he straightened up.”

Raphael kissed her forehead. “That’s what you’re supposed to do. They can only save themselves.”

“I know but … he was my little brother.” She was crying.

He rolled towards her and wrapped her up with both arms while she sobbed and sniffled.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered as she pulled away and wiped her eyes. “I thought I was okay with the whole thing, but … I still feel like it’s my fault.”