Read Soul Survivor Online

Authors: Katana Collins

Soul Survivor (24 page)

BOOK: Soul Survivor
6.01Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads
Julian exhaled in relief behind him, but John's face was stern. Beyond angry. Not that I cared in the least. Nothing about this man was loveable anymore.
“Why did you disobey me?” he snarled, raising a hand to slap me. Again, I was faster and caught his palm in mine, bending his arm backwards. I could have kept going. I could have bent it until I heard a pop. But I didn't. Instead, I let him go, throwing him across the room.
“Perhaps you could have spared Ainsley. Another sheep—one that was not a pet to me. Or,” I added more quietly, “perhaps if you had had the ability to be faithful, just for the small amount of time it took for you to use me—perhaps then I would have ‘obeyed' you.” I spat the word obey as an insult to his face. His eyes widened as I strolled over to him coming in closely. “Was she delicious?”
“Angel—” he started and I cut him off.
“Don't call me that.”
“Monica,” he tried again. “Part of the ingredients for this spell—for an angel unknowingly to spill holy tears onto the sacrificial lamb. I needed Ainsley specifically for this.”
Again, he had used me. He had orchestrated a relationship between Ainsley and me for the sole purpose of slaughtering her. The news ripped my soul apart.
I spun and walked to the other side of the room again, glad not to hear his footsteps behind me.
His throat cleared and he moved to the center of the room. “I'll deal with you later, Monica. For now, I have to finish what we started. And fix your stupid mistake.” With a rag, he wiped off the knife. “The circles are closed and shall not be opened again unless by the council.”
“Finish the banishment, John.” I would not refer to his title in this moment. He was no lord to me.
“With my blood. It is the only way to banish—by using the blood of the sorcerer who created the circle.” He dug the knife into his palm and scarlet tears oozed from the fresh wound.
Carman and Dother stood staring at each other, hands against the invisible wall as though they were palm to palm. “Do not worry, Mother,” Dother whispered. “Dub shall be avenged.”
John flicked his blood onto each circle, and the ground below them opened into a dark hole. They, along with the circle of salt and fire and blood, disappeared into the floor.
42
M
y eyes blinked open, a hanging orb of light swinging above me. It flickered as though the lightbulb might go out at any moment. My tongue felt fuzzy and my head pounded.
Drew was lying to my left, his feet and hands bound together and his eyes closed. I wanted to reach out and touch his face, feel that stubble beneath my hands once more. When I shifted to move, my hands were bound, too. I looked down; only the ropes tying me were entwined with magic. I struggled against them anyway in a futile effort to twist my hands out of their hold. On a frustrated exhale, I let my head fall back to the stone floor.
The room was dark and a bit musty. Brick covered the lower half of the walls, and then white paint took the other half up to the ceiling. One sliver of a window was at the top, revealing the night sky. We were in a basement. Chalk circles that looked erased and drawn again several times over covered the cement floors.
That face—the man who had appeared—he had been so familiar, but I couldn't place him exactly. Dark hair and dark eyes. Strong build. Olive skin. I squeezed my eyes tight.
Think, Monica, think!
I pulled at the bindings, whispering an incantation. I felt the magic leave my tongue, but the spell binding my hands was too strong. Drew stirred beside me, turning onto his back. A goose egg swelled near his temple and a trickle of blood oozed out a small cut at the crest.
My spell might not break my bindings, but it could sure as Hell untie Drew! It wouldn't mean jack shit if he wasn't awake, though.
“Drew,” I whispered, sliding my body over to his. “Drew!” I said more urgently, though still quietly this time. I nudged him with my knees.
He moaned and his head turned toward me, eyes fluttering open. “Monica?” he responded in a most groggy state.
“Yes, Drew! Open your eyes. Look at me.” His eyelids were heavy, but he was focusing on my face.
“Wh-what happened?” He rolled his shoulders to move his hands, only to be met with the rope. “What?” His voice was panicked and he started pulling at his hands and thrashing around on the floor.
“Drew! Stop, quiet!” The last thing we needed was for the man to come back down here. “Drew!” I threw my body on top of his and our torsos connected, my nose touching his. “Stop. We can get out of this, but you need to be calm. Okay?”
He panted from below me, but nodded. “Why are we here? What's happening?”
“I don't know yet. But we've been kidnapped . . . for something.”

Something?
That's all I get? I'm hit over the head and tied up in some cult's basement and I still can't get any answers out of you.” He shook his head and looked up to the ceiling. “Ridiculous.”
“Look, Drew, I don't
have
answers right now, okay?”
He turned his head toward me again. “And if you did, you would tell me everything, right?” I stayed silent and he rolled his eyes, turning away from me again. “That's what I thought.”
“I think I can get you untied. But, if I hear him coming again, I'll have to at least make it look like you're tied up again. Okay? When I get you out of the ropes, check the window.” I nodded my head to the window above, and he followed my gaze.
“You think I can fit through that tiny thing?”
I shrugged. “It's worth a try, unless you have any better ideas?”
“Yeah. When I'm untied, I'll undo yours and we can fight this guy off together when he comes down again.”
“He's . . . I think he's stronger than you think. I'm not sure we could take him.”
“It's worth a shot.”
“Only if the window doesn't work. Besides, I don't think you'll be able to untie my ropes. They're, uh, a little more intricate than yours.”
“Well, I can't wait to see how you untie me with your own hands bound,” he sneered.
“Just—” I took a deep, cleansing breath. “Just try not to freak out, okay?”
He didn't answer, but continued to stare at me with the most annoying look of doubt on his face.
I closed my eyes, focusing all my effort on the ropes around his wrists and ankles. The words flowed from my lips and I imagined them swirling to Drew in a dance. Those words locked around his ropes and loosened them.
“What the Hell?” Drew whispered, and when I opened my eyes, his face was blanched of color and staring at me in horror. “How did you do that?” The ropes hung loosely around his feet and he pulled his hands from the open loops, glancing down at them as though they held the answers.
A lump constricted my throat. “There's a lot to tell you, but now isn't the time. And you will probably see a lot more that seems crazy tonight. Just—try to breathe through it and know that we all love you.”
“Huh? We, who?”
“Go check the window. Be careful getting up. It looks like he hit you over the head pretty hard.”
“But—”
“Drew! Go!” I nodded to the window, but instead he came to me and knelt by my side.
“Let's untie you first.” He reached for the knots around my wrists and I heard a crackle.
He stumbled back on his hands and ass, looking even more horrified than before. “What the—it's like . . . it's like there's some weird sort of . . .”
“Magic,” I finished for him and he held my stare.
Jumping to his feet, he rushed the window, checking the edges. “Let's get the Hell outta here, what do you say?”
“Oh, I wouldn't do that if I were you.” A deep voice came from the dark stairs. I saw his feet first, bare, with faded jeans rolled a few times above his ankles. I scanned up to his chest—shirtless. He was tanned with just the slightest bit of chest hair sprinkled over his Adonis-like muscles. Dark wavy hair that hung to the middle of his neck in glossy strands.
Drew hesitated for all of a moment before he charged at the man to attack. With a flick of his wrist, a gust of air flung Drew across the room and pinned him to the wall. Drew shouted and writhed against the hold. With a roll of his eyes, the man turned his attention to me, a wry smile curving his lips.
“Recognize me, do you, Monica?”
I stared at him—I did recognize him. But recognition and remembrance were two very different things.
He clomped toward me and even though he was barefoot, his step was so powerful that the ground shook with each movement. “Think back. You of all people should remember me, specifically. We had a very special moment shared between us.”
“Monica!” Drew yelled. “Who is this?”
“Dother,” I whispered. Carman's son. My body started trembling involuntarily. I thought back to that night—the night we'd captured Carman. Lord Buckley had killed his brother. I shook my head. “But I—but I saved your life.”
He snorted at that. “Saved? You fucking imprisoned me. Banished me to the depths of Hell!”
“What the fuck is he?” Drew shouted again, fighting the pressure of the wind holding him against the wall.
Dother rolled his eyes and with another flick of his wrist, the wind swirled around Drew's head until his eyes rolled back and he fell to the ground in an unnatural heap.
“No!” I screamed, fighting my own restraints. “Is he—did you . . .”
“No, no. Calm yourself. He's just passed out.” His jaw muscles clenched and released as though he were grinding his teeth.
“But you were banished from this realm! How are you even here?” I struggled against my ropes.
He chuckled, the noise sounding maniacal and distant in my head. “That's the beauty of our world, Monica. I was able to offer my services in ridding this world of you. And poof”—he held up two hands with arched eyebrows and a small smile—“banishment lifted.”
“Who? Who lifted it?”
He tutted and stepped even closer. I could have reached out an arm and touched him. He tucked his hands into his pockets and bent at the waist to lean in toward me. “You don't expect me to answer that, do you?”
“No,” I said through gritted teeth, “I suspect not.”
“So!” He straightened and clapped his hands together, the sudden change in tone and volume causing me to flinch. “Let's get this show started, shall we?”
He turned and, from underneath the stairwell, pulled out a box of items. Beginning with chalk, he drew two circles. Even though he'd just eyeballed them, they were perfect spheres. From the box, he grabbed salt and lined each circle with a thin, perfect pour of salt.
“Why our descendants?” I asked. The more information I had, the easier it would be to stop him. Or at least delay him.
He paused a moment to look at me before he went back to work on the circles. “I could have used all of you. But humans are so much easier to capture and kill. Why make it harder on myself? Besides, you were the only immortal I
had
to capture for this bounty. And I knew that wouldn't be hard. After all—” He stopped and stood straight, his eyes flicking to Drew. “I know your biggest weakness. Hot blondes, right?”
Hope sprang to life in my gut. If Drew was only the lure to capture me, maybe he would be spared. There was certainly no reason to kill him. “So, then, let the human go. There's no point in keeping him if your intent was solely to capture me.”
“Don't be ridiculous. He's part of the plan, too.” He had a can of lighter fluid in his hands and on top of the salt, he poured a steady stream of liquid around the circle. None of it leaked out and it was far from any walls or wood.
Drew was part of the plan? I squeezed my eyes shut in thought. He had all the descendants, didn't he? There was me, Lord Buckley, Dejan, Julian . . . no one else had been there the night of her capture.
One by one, Dother pulled jars containing blood from the box. Opening each, he poured its contents into the center of only one circle. When all the jars had been emptied, he tossed them back into the box and kicked it back under the stairs.
He whistled. “Here, boy! Baxter, come here!” A wave of nausea hit me as I saw the yellow lab descend the stairs, tail wagging and happy. He sat for Dother, ears perked, tail sweeping across the floor. “Good boy. Stay.”
“Oh, Hell,” I whispered. I knew that dog. “We're at the—the Morgansons', aren't we?” I thought back to the couple who had found Sonja on the trail and how Mrs. Morganson had clung to the dog's neck in tears.
“Well, done. I followed them home after you and that angel interviewed them.”
“Where are they?” Panic rose in my throat like bile. “What did you do with them?”
That same evil smile crept along his face as if he enjoyed every second of this torment. “Let's just say that Baxter here is now an orphan. But not for long—he'll join them soon.”
“Why? What did they do?”
Dother shrugged, his eyes dead. “Do? They're only humans. Fuck. Even some angels know how meaningless human existence is.”
“But . . . but why Baxter? He doesn't need to be a part of this!”
“I need a sacrifice to complete the circle. Why are you acting as if you know none of this?”
I ignored his question. “You've sacrificed
four
people already! You don't need the dog to complete the circle.”
“Not Mother's circle.
Your
circle.”
I paused at that, holding his stare, mine equally vicious. “Can you at least untie me?”
His eyebrows arched and a smile twitched at his mouth. “I highly doubt that you would simply sit there and watch as I kill your lover here. The bindings stay.”
“Just what do you expect me to do? It's not as if I'm a powerful angel anymore. I suspect these enchantments are all over the house as well?”
He shrugged. “A few.”
“So what could I possibly do? You afraid of a little ol' succubus?”
He snorted. “Nice try. You're staying bound.”
With an outstretched hand, he snapped his fingers. “Human.”
Drew's body, still lying in a heap on the floor, lifted with a gust of wind and was carried to Dother. “Awake,” he whispered and the air swirled around his head and into his nostrils.
Drew gasped awake, eyes fluttering, and he looked around, getting his bearings once more. His gaze landed on Dother, eyes pinching together in a scowl. With no warning whatsoever, Drew threw a punch that connected with Dother's jaw. He smiled with the hit as his head snapped to the side. Drew went in for another punch to his stomach, which he quickly dodged, locking Drew's arm behind his back. “You done, human? As if you could fight me,” he sniggered.
“Don't hurt Monica,” Drew rasped, still fighting Dother's iron-grip hold. “Take me instead and let her go.”
“Oh, so chivalrous,” Dother said with a dopey smile and an eye roll. “Monica, dearest. I find it hard to believe a demon like you could stomach being around a toothache like this and not get a taste of that sugar.”
“How do you know I haven't?”
Dother snorted a laugh. “Your lifestyle choices spread far and wide, my dear.”
He tossed Drew into the circle and he landed on his back, head slamming into the cement. I snaked my body over to where Dother stood. He pulled a knife from the back of his pants and, leaning into the circle, swiped at Drew. Drew dodged the hit, backing away just in time. I got to Dother just as he lunged again and sank my teeth into his ankle. His blood pooled in my mouth and he screamed, kicking at my face. I felt my own blood gush from my nose and I sat up, shifting the wounds closed.
When I opened my eyes, Drew was staring at me, jaw dropped. That one second of delay was all Dother needed, and his knife slid across Drew's neck, spurting his blood all over the circle. His body crumpled and Dother laughed as he caught him, pulling him away from the salt ring.
BOOK: Soul Survivor
6.01Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Bitch by Deja King
Gray (Book 2) by Cadle, Lou
Downtime by Tamara Allen
Day's End by Colleen Vanderlinden
The Ghosts of Anatolia by Steven E. Wilson
Amor and Psycho: Stories by Carolyn Cooke
Defying the North Wind by Anna Hackett