Her Soul for Revenge (Souls Trilogy)

I knew him instantly. His face was covered with a black ski mask, but it didn’t matter. I didn’t forget. I couldn’t forget.

Leon. The monster in the woods. The one who’d chased me in the dark. A living part of my nightmares.

Raelynn ran to him, throwing her arms tightly around his neck and drawing close. I didn’t know her, but it was like watching a child get too close to a fire: it was instinctual to snatch them away. I wanted to jerk her back, I wanted to yell that he was dangerous. Who could possibly want to be close to a monster like that?

But Zane was a monster too. I’d seen a monster the first night I met him, and the first time I’d fucked him, and when I’d let him cut me. As much as I hated it, Zane’s words to me about Leon hadn’t been forgotten: summoned by force — against his will — never had a choice.

“And here I thought you’d forgotten me, doll,” Leon said, wrapping his arm around her and drawing her back, protectively, against his side. “It was a cute little show you put on grinding up between these two, but it gave me a feeling you’ve forgotten who you belong to.” He gave Zane a heavy look, and I couldn’t be certain if it was anger or begrudging thankfulness. Regardless, it made Zane chuckle and shake his head.

“Maybe if you’d paid a little bit closer attention, it wouldn’t have been necessary,” I snapped. Zane claimed Leon was “obsessed” with this girl, that he’d defied his master for her — but he’d let her waltz right into the Hadleighs’ clutches.

Leon’s gaze centered on me. His eyes were the same color as Zane’s, but they were different in a way I couldn’t put into words. They carried a coldness, a deadly suspicious hatred. “Juniper Kynes…so grown up now.”

I never thought I’d stand there facing him without a gun in my hands. I’d also never thought I’d look at him and feel anything but hatred and fear. But the monster that had chased me through the dark had a name and a story now. He had pain, he had fear, he had…he had whatever it was that made him hold Raelynn like that.

But the memories were intruding, unbidden, forcing themselves to the forefront of my mind. The forest. The ache in my lungs. My feet stinging with cuts from running barefoot through the dark. Those eyes tracking me, watching me, hunting me…

“I’m not a scared little girl anymore,” I said. “I’m a lot better armed than I was at fifteen.”

Leon glanced cautiously down the hall, his eyes narrowing slightly. Zane nudged a little closer to me, his touch a small reassurance in my whirlpool of anxiety. When Leon looked back, he was smirking. “So glad you remember me. Hold on to that anger. It keeps you strong.”

Rage blanketed my vision. It was half anger, half panic, and I barely knew what I was doing. I whipped out the knife from beneath my jacket and pressed it up against Leon’s smartass mouth, fisting his jacket with my free hand. Zane muttered something, but I didn’t care what the hell he had to say.

I wanted to use that blade to carve up Leon’s face. I wanted to gouge out those awful, bright eyes. Rae was glaring at me as if she was about to start swinging, but I’d gladly take her down too.

But as soon as I’d done it, I knew I was wrong. These two weren’t my enemies. Not even Leon, despite all the hate I had for him.

“You’re lucky Zane has any affection for you.” I tightened my grip on his jacket, the blade pressed hard against his lips. “Because you were first on my list.”

My logical mind was telling me to stop. But the scared part of me, the dark part, was pounding my heart, squeezing my lungs, twisting my stomach.

Leon was standing there as if I’d offered to take him out for a drink, cool as a fucking cucumber, a spark in his eyes that was goddamn unnerving. “Easy girl,” he drawled. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

He parted his lips and ran his forked tongue along my blade. His blood welled up, dripped over his lips and stained his teeth. He stepped back, smiling widely with Rae still tucked under his arm.

“Enjoy the party,” he said. He winked as he turned, leading Rae back into the quiet parts of the house. I watched them go, shaking as the adrenaline left my system.

Zane slipped his arm around my waist. He led me without a word, and I allowed him. There was a glass door he slid open, that led out into a garden tucked against the house. Paths of gravel meandered amongst the trimmed hedges, rose bushes, and arches of flowering vines, all planted around a tall, sprawling cherry tree.

There was no one else out there. The sounds of the party were muted, replaced instead with the trickle of a nearby fountain and the wind moving through the pines.

“I hate feeling out of control,” I muttered. “I hate it. That feeling takes over and nothing makes sense. It’s like everything goes dark and alarms are going off and —”

I went still, my breath sitting cold and heavy in my lungs. There, behind Zane, crouched amongst the hedges, was that awful blood-red, wide-eyed face.

I swallowed hard. The creature’s eyes were locked on me, its long fingers tapping on its boney knees as it squatted in the shadows. Its body was red because it was flayed — the thing had no skin, just a reddish-pink network of webbed veins.

The panic in me was about to burst. My head was light, my muscles so tense they ached. I couldn’t let this happen now. Not here. But I couldn’t look away, and the longer I looked, the faster the darkness closed in, like a tunnel shrinking around my eyes.

“The Watcher,” I whispered. All I could see were those lidless eyes. All I could feel was cold, sickening dread. “It’s here. It’s…it’s…”

Suddenly, Zane’s arms were around me.

It was warm against his chest. I could smell him with every breath I took. His chin rested on top of my head, tucking me even closer. My heart felt like it was going to beat out of my ribs, and my arms were crossed over my chest as if to protect it. The Watcher was back there, waiting, but without its eyes locked on me, the lightness in my head began to ease.

“It wants your attention,” Zane said softly. “Don’t give it what it wants.”

I didn’t dare close my eyes, for fear I’d open them and find myself someplace else, trapped in a nightmare. But as the silence stretched on and Zane kept holding me, I was able to take one long, slow breath.

“I’m broken,” I said softly. “I’m fucked up. It’s like I’m only getting worse.”

His voice rumbled in his chest as he spoke. “I followed you for years, Juniper. I saw all your broken pieces. I saw the sharpness. It was like shattered glass every time I looked at you.” His hand moved up, tucked against my neck and his thumb pushed up my chin. “Have you ever seen shattered glass catch the light? Have you seen it reflect colors that a perfect, pristine pane never would? How it shines as bright as the sun?”

I didn’t make a sound, but tears rolled down my face before I could stop them. I was going to ruin my facepaint if I kept this up. I hated crying in front of anyone; I always had. But instead, in that moment, it felt more like a relief.

“I don’t think you need to be fixed, Juniper. I think you need to catch your light.”

I lowered my face, pressing it back against his chest where he couldn’t see me. The self-deprecating thoughts prodded at me, echoes of Stop crying, you’re weak, you’re pathetic, stop. But his arms, still immoveable, held them back like a wall I didn’t need to build myself. His words were a call-out to the lies that swirled in my head.

He was a demon who had everything he should have wanted from me. He had no reason to say that unless he meant it. It was a kindness that my brain couldn’t twist. And if I couldn’t twist it, I had to accept it.

I had to believe it.

“I’m…I’m sorry.” I only got it out in a whisper, but I still managed it.

“For what?”

“He’s your friend,” I said. “I get it. I know…” I sighed heavily. I hated words. I hated trying to put the confusing things I felt into plain language. I hated trying to be understood, hated it so much I’d given up on it for years.

Somehow Zane had managed to change that. He made me want to try, even when it was hard.

Zane smiled gently. “Don’t be sorry. He wasn’t scared of you, and I wasn’t worried for him. I was far more worried that little Raelynn was going to try to fight you, and that would’ve been a real mess. Like a chihuahua fighting a Doberman.”

I laughed. “Oh fuck, that would’ve sucked. I mean, she wouldn’t have won.”

“Not a chance. But you know Leon wouldn’t have let you beat on his toy.”

I shook my head. “No. Probably not. I’d fight him too though.”

I wasn’t sure how many minutes passed. I stopped counting them, stilling the eternally ticking clocks in my head. It wasn’t about Leon, not really. It wasn’t even about the Watcher, who’d retreated out of sight. It was the lack of control. It was the fear of letting go of fear itself. Fear had always kept me going, hatred kept me going. Letting that go, even a little bit, was like dismantling my own shelter.

But my shelter was crashing around me, it was a hazard as much as it was a defense. Maybe it was okay to dismantle it if there was another shelter there, something better, something safer. Something with a little light I could catch.

Strange that Hell’s light could shine so bright.

Even with a light by my side, I waited in darkness, for something darker still. The party raged on into the night. We didn’t return to the house, but instead, lingered in the garden and when too many people began to come out, we wandered back into the trees. We kept an eye on the house from a distance, watching through the massive glass windows.

“Maybe he’s not here,” Zane said, but I shook my head. Watching the party from outside was like watching a bizarre clockwork, all the characters going through their motions, deep beats replacing the clock’s chime. Drink, dance, laugh. Perfect smiles and posturing gradually growing sloppy.

“If they intended to take Rae tonight, Kent will be here,” I said. “He’s here somewhere.”

But as the time went on, I began to have my doubts.

It was after midnight, and the night had grown cold. Some of the crowds within the house had dispersed, but those that remained were trashed as hell. I could hear someone vomiting near the front of the house, and I adjusted my gun to rest a little more comfortably on my knee. I glanced up at Zane, but he wasn’t watching the house anymore.

He was staring behind us, into the trees.

“What is it?” I followed his gaze, trying to make out anything in the dark.

“Probably nothing,” he said, but his eyes were narrowed. “I thought I smelled…” He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. There’s nothing back there.”

I was about to insist he tell me what the hell he thought he’d seen, but sudden movement back toward the house caught my attention. I raised my gun, watching as two figures climbed over the railing on the deck. A small one was lowered down first, before the other leaped down, grabbed her hand, and ran with her into the trees.

“Leon,” Zane said, watching from behind me.

“And Rae,” I whispered. “What are they running from?”

Minutes passed as I watched the deck. Then the door opened again, and a familiar figure walked out across the deck. They came right up to the railing, staring out into the dark.

It was Kent Hadleigh, dressed in a gray suit. He puffed slowly on his cigar as his eyes scanned the trees, his other hand at his side gripping a pistol. My vision shrank, everything else fading into the background. He was so goddamn close. I could make the shot from here.

Zane tapped my arm, right as I was about to raise the gun. “Wait. Not yet.”

Kent strode down the stairway from the deck, the smoke from his cigar trailing behind him. I caught a whiff of it, rich tobacco and vanilla as he passed close by our hiding place in the trees. He stopped right at the tree line, and clicked his tongue as if in disappointment.

Every inch of me was tense, my nerves tingling. The excitement coursing through me was almost too much to contain, a high that just kept rising. This was it. He was here, just like Everly had said he’d be. He was only feet away.

Tonight, Kent Hadleigh was going to die.

Zane glanced over at me, sharp teeth bright in his painted face. “Shall we?”

I nodded. “Get his attention. I’ll take him down.”

Zane moved quickly, disappearing from beside me. I stayed low, waiting until Kent’s attention was turned away. I could see his face from where I crouched, even though it was cast in shadow. He looked older, tired. His hair was entirely gray, rather than speckled with it as it had been…back then. I understood why people trusted him — I understood why I had. His voice could sound kind, he could be generous. He could look at his children with affection, he could say all the right words.

It was all a lie.

He was a man who would do anything to get what he wanted. He was a man who saw cruelty and suffering as paths to glory. He looked at his own children and saw sacrifices to be made.

I looked at him and saw dead flesh.

He smirked and began to whistle as he turned away from the trees. But he didn’t take more than a few steps before he noticed Zane. Kent stopped, and from my current angle, I could see a flicker of confusion across his face before cold, calculated calm settled again. He raised his cigar to his lips and took a slow puff, but I didn’t miss the slight shake in his hand.

“Evening, Mr. Hadleigh,” Zane said, his voice lowered to that deep baritone that never failed to make my insides shudder. “Lovely night, isn’t it?”

Kent took the cigar from his mouth, tapping the ash into the grass. “Who are you?” His voice betrayed no fear. God, I wanted him to shake. I wanted him to feel his stomach drop. I wanted him to feel what I’d felt.

He would. Soon enough, he would.

“A friend of a friend,” Zane said, still smiling. He wasn’t trying to hide what he was: he was all golden eyes and sharp teeth, made even more unnerving with his painted face. “Why don’t we take a little walk, Mr. Hadleigh? There’s someone who’s eager to see you again.”

Kent’s eyes narrowed, and his head jerked back toward the trees. He couldn’t see me where I was hidden in the shadows, but his eyes moved over me for a moment and sent a chill up my back. I had to be patient. He was too close to the house.

“You can’t touch me, demon,” he said. “And I have no business with you.”

“I don’t need to touch you,” Zane said. “Because you’re going to turn around and start walking on your own accord back into those trees.”

“And if I don’t?” Kent’s voice was sharp. I could have taken it as careless irritation if I hadn’t spotted his hand shake again.

Zane cocked his head. “Do you really want to find out?”

I cocked the gun, and Kent’s whole body twitched. He knew that sound, there was no mistaking it.

“What a clever little charm you’re wearing around your neck, Mr. Hadleigh,” Zane said. “Tell me, do your children have them too? Does your wife? How quickly can you get back in the house?” He took a step closer, and Kent stepped back.

“You’re some friend of Leon’s, aren’t you?” he said and took another unsteady step backward, toward the trees. “Have you come here to take revenge for that snake?”

Zane’s grin widened. “Oh, that’s part of it. You’ve made a lot of enemies, Kent.” He took another step forward, and Kent took another step back. He was almost under the trees now. “You’ve caused irreparable pain. Now, believe me, I do love to see chaos and destruction.” Another step. Kent was under the trees. I began to creep closer. “I love to cause a fair bit of it myself. But there’s a big difference between you and I, Kent.”

“You’re a demon,” Kent snapped. “Your entire existence is meant to be bent to the will of your master —”

“There’s the difference, Hadleigh.” Zane’s face had grown gaunt, and it wasn’t just the makeup in the dim light. He looked truly haunting. “You harm those who are weak and vulnerable. You go after children. You prey on those who trust you. You make your own offspring into vile little monsters. You steal freedom. You force others to bend to your will under threats of pain and violence.”

I was just behind Kent now. I raised the gun. He was too fixated on Zane to notice.

“You’re a coward, Kent Hadleigh,” Zane growled. “And tonight, you’re going to die a coward’s death.”

I brought the gun down, slamming the butt against the back of his head. Kent grunted, his knees buckled, and he collapsed onto the grass. I hurriedly pushed him over, fumbled at his neck, and found a metal amulet on a chain. It was carved in the shape of a sword crossed with a wand, the surface mottled like dirty silver.

“Oh, that’s a vile thing,” Zane murmured, as I plucked it from Kent’s neck.

I held up the amulet curiously. It didn’t look particularly special, just old. But as I grasped it in my fingers, I found the surface to be stunningly cold. “Would this really protect him from you?”

“It’s far more powerful than it looks,” Zane said, grimacing in disgust. “The closer a demon is to it, the more it saps their strength.”

“I’ll keep it away from you then.” Quickly, I dug a little hole in the dirt, dropped the amulet inside, and covered it. I had to remember to come back for it later, but I wasn’t going to have that thing near Zane.

The demon kicked Kent curiously, frowning. “You didn’t hit him hard enough. He isn’t dead.”

“That’s the point.” I stood up, high on the adrenaline coursing through my veins. I was gripped by a hunger I couldn’t explain, a desire like nothing else. “Carry him. I saw a garden shed back in the trees. We’ll take him there.”