Soul Thief (Dark Souls) (3 page)

His long-lost soul.

Chapter Four

Adrian ran faster than an Olympic track-and-field champion. He ran so fast Angie’s vision blurred. She held on for dear life, all the while experiencing a secret thrill at seeing the world zip by at incredible speed, at feeling so weightless she could fly. It was like riding on a rollercoaster, dangerous enough to get her blood pumping but also safe enough to make the ride enjoyable. And that’s what shocked her most. That she wasn’t afraid. As crazy as it sounded, Adrian’s arms seemed like the safest place in the world to be.

Even if he was some kind of crazy hypnotist who’d recently willed two men to their deaths. “Where are you taking me?”

No answer. He lurched toward the stairs, then came to an abrupt stop.

Satisfaction sped through her as he deposited her on her feet and shoved her behind him. “Finally.” She peeked over his shoulder, and alarm swept in to crowd out relief.

Ahead of them, blocking their path, stood a group of the strangest individuals Angie had ever seen, and that was saying a lot because she’d encountered more than her fair share of oddballs.

They were all exceptionally tall, well over six feet, and wore nothing but black leather and deadpan expressions. A similar group closed in on them from behind, and Adrian spun around, drawing her tight to his side.

“Well, what have we here?” One of the giants approached them, assessing Angie with blue eyes so pale they bordered on icy. A chill skated down her back. So much for feeling safe.

“Stay back, Kyros,” Adrian commanded. “Your fight is with me. The girl is of no interest to you. Let her walk away and we’ll finish this.”

Kyros refused to take his glassy eyes off her. “You know I can’t leave a witness behind. That would be careless.”

“If you spare her, I’ll go with you without a fight.” Adrian’s voice was powerful and steady, but behind his cool façade Angie sensed a growing desperation.

“Why don’t you just hypnotize them?” she whispered.

Kyros stood a good twenty feet away, but his mouth curled into a vicious smile. Had he heard her? Impossible. “You know this woman?”

Adrian’s hold on her grew tight enough to hurt. “Not particularly.”

“Really?” There was a taunting lilt to the stranger’s voice. “Because your signatures are practically identical.”

How did this guy know what her signature looked like? This night was getting weirder by the minute.

“You must be mistaken. She’s just an innocent bystander. Nothing more.”

“Then you won’t mind if I conduct a little experiment.”

Kyros raised his hand, twisted it at the wrist. Pain lanced through her. Not physical pain. Her discomfort was entirely emotional. Dark images of death filled her head, endless stretches of nothingness, her consciousness trapped in a world that had forgotten her. She was on the outside looking in, an invisible specter, conscious but powerless, no more substantial than the air she could no longer breathe.

In that small wedge of time when her breath stilled, Angie had a vision. A vision of the future she was unable to accept. Not as long as hope’s frail wings fluttered in her chest.

Beside her Adrian tensed. She ventured a glance his way. Pain rearranged his features, but he fought like hell not to let it show.

“It’s a frightful proposition, isn’t it?” Kyros slunk closer. “Death. An ever-faithful shadow. An enemy that cannot be evaded, no matter how far or how fast you run.” His penetrating gaze drilled into her.

He knows.
Panic swelled in her breast.
He sees it inside me.

“She will not save you,” Kyros told her. “Nothing can.” With another flick of his wrist, he murdered her hope. A violent tremor shook her body.

Adrian’s hold on her slackened, and he fell to his knees. “Stop it,” he grunted. “Get out of her head.”

“I believe I’ve finally found your weakness.” Satisfied, Kyros let his arm drop to his side.

As abruptly as they’d started, the images melted away. The pain receded, but the hopelessness refused to fade. It had taken root inside her, a seed of doubt that threatened to grow and bury her.

“She will not save you. Nothing can.”

With a howl of rage, Adrian vaulted to his feet. Then weirdness morphed to something altogether surreal. One by one, he blasted those around them with nothing more than a flick of his hand. A train chose that moment to whiz down the track. Horrified, Angie watched helplessly as the last car detached itself from the rest of the train and became airborne. Flying sideways, it cut a steady path toward Kyros and his friends. The car struck the ground, screeched across the tiles and careened out of control.

Angie’s fingers went lax. The Reach brochure she’d been clutching fluttered to the ground as Adrian swept her off her feet again. With his arm firmly secured around her waist, he leapt at least fifteen feet in the air, over smoke and debris and writhing bodies onto the roof of the passing train. Then he sent them both tumbling onto their stomachs, his strong arm secured across her back as they bulleted into the tunnel, where darkness rose greedily to swallow them.

A scream clawed its way up her throat, but she couldn’t seem to find the strength to release it. Somewhere in her muddled brain a thought formed.

Hypnotist, my ass.

Chapter Five

Kyros and his army would not be contained for long. Already, Adrian sensed them crawling over the debris, ripping through metal, stepping over the collapsed car as though it were nothing more than a discarded juice box. The car he’d chosen to send spiraling through the air was empty due to the late hour, so thankfully no human lives had been claimed.

Using all the energy he had left, he willed the train conductor to keep forging ahead, oblivious to the wreck behind him. By tunneling his vision, Adrian could see the man clearly, cleave his way into his mind and subtly persuade him to ignore all but the task at hand.

Footsteps pounded the tracks in the distance as Kyros and his army resumed their pursuit, only mildly inconvenienced by the obstacle he’d whipped their way. His uncle wouldn’t give up, not after what he’d uncovered. If there had been any doubt in Adrian’s mind that his old soul now lived within this girl, it had been put to rest the second Kyros had conducted his
experiment.

One thing was certain—this waif of a woman would never be safe again, and neither would he. Their fates were inextricably linked from this day forward.

But he couldn’t dwell on that right now. What mattered was throwing Kyros and his troops off their trail. There was only one way to do that—he needed a crowd, a really big crowd. One imbued with hundreds of human signatures to mask his and the girl’s, and he knew just where to find it.

Times Square.

Up ahead the track branched out. Adrian knew these tunnels as well as he knew the streets above them. The track on their left was abandoned, used only for emergencies and reroutes. Tightening his hold on the woman, he lunged off the speeding train, ignoring the scream she let loose.

He landed on his feet with her safely wrapped in his arms. Energy hummed wherever they touched, a subtle current that seeped into his bloodstream, warming it. Her heart tapped a frantic beat against her chest. He could feel it pounding through her body, loud and erratic, and he regretted the ordeal he’d put her through tonight. He’d have to erase her memory later. Seeing as she’d resisted his influence twice already, his only option would be to make physical contact. No human soul was immune to
the kiss
. By touching his mouth to hers, he could alter her thoughts, cleanse her mind, and convince her this night had never happened.

But first he had to keep Kyros from killing her.

Angie was seriously freaking out. The things she’d witnessed tonight, the feats she’d watched Adrian perform…

She shook her head to clear it, burrowed her face deep in his shoulder as he carried her across the subway tracks at impossible speed. Her gut was clenched so tight her belly ached. She’d seen a metal car go scuttling across the platform, had literally flown onto the roof of a speeding train and was now tearing through a subway tunnel faster than a racehorse on steroids.

But nothing had shaken her more than the icy blue eyes of the man Adrian had referred to as Kyros. Somehow Kyros had gotten into her thoughts, had crawled into the darkest corner of her mind where her deepest fears dwelled and voiced them. His words had been cold and sharp, almost prophetic.

“She will not save you. Nothing can.”

Gripping Adrian’s jacket with both fists, she tossed a glance over his shoulder, expecting a train to come rocketing down the track and flatten them. Instead, Kyros came barreling toward them, surrounded by an army of drones. That was the only way she could describe these creatures. Their faces were so expressionless, they appeared robotic. Not that she could see their features right now—the tunnel was way too dark to make out such detail—but their images were forever etched in her mind. As long as she lived, she would remember those faces. Her skin crawled at the memory of those cold, merciless gazes raking over her body as though they could see past clothing, bone and skin to the very essence of her.

Adrian quickened his pace, if that were even possible. Holding her tight enough to bruise, he vaulted up a narrow, ancient-looking staircase. Her eyes had adjusted a bit to the darkness, and she made out gray shapes and misty shadows. They came to a door, beyond which people bustled and the night sky was set aflame by a thousand lights instead of stars.

Adrian placed her on her feet, took her hand in his, and weaved his way through the crowd in Times Square.

“Try to blend in,” he whispered in her ear. “The more people surrounding us, the better.” His breath brushed her skin, a warm, reassuring caress in a world that had gone completely insane.

It wasn’t hard to find a crowd, even at this ungodly hour. The Square never slept. A sea of yellow cabs gushed through the streets, swarms of people waited on sidewalk corners for a chance to cross busy intersections, and gigantic screens blinked relentlessly from tall buildings, each boasting another product they wanted you to buy. A medley of sounds filled the night—the buzz of conversation, the screech of tires, the occasional shrill of a car horn.

Life. Chaos. Excitement. Under any other circumstances, Angie would’ve rejoiced. She loved Times Square. Loved the raw beauty of it, the commotion, the endless parade of people. It never failed to make her feel alive, as if time itself came to an abrupt halt, trapping her in a single electric moment.

But tonight she had no desire to see time stop. She wanted to press the fast-forward button, to get the hell out of this nightmare she’d stumbled into.

As if sensing her thoughts, Adrian leaned forward and spoke next to her ear again. “Everything will be all right. I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”

Bitter regret bubbled in her throat, but she tamped it down. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” she whispered.

“She will not save you. Nothing can.”

Behind them, someone screamed.

Chapter Six

Fights began to break out through Times Square, like tiny explosions tainting the atmosphere. Negative energy rippled through the air until isolated squabbles culminated in a full-blown riot. Adrian hastened forward, even as the girl struggled to look back.

“Keep moving.” He tugged on her hand, and she lost her footing, nearly falling. Looping a protective arm around her waist, he steadied her, then urged her forward again. “The riot only means they’ve followed us out into the Square. In case you haven’t noticed, my kind has a negative effect on people.”

“Your kind?” She turned a pair of inquisitive eyes his way. Eyes so deep they threatened to suck him in and drown him. “Something tells me you’re not talking about hypnotists.”

“No.” He could be honest with her only because he planned to erase her memory later.

A shiver raced through her, resonating against the arm he had wrapped around her. “What are you?”

A humorless laugh swelled in his throat until he had no choice but to release it. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. There’s no single term that can describe what I am.” Part Kleptopsych, part Hybrid and a Rogue to boot, he was an outcast both in his world and hers. All three factions were descendants of the Nephilim, the cursed offspring of fallen angels and humans. What distinguished them from each other was whether or not they had access to a conscience and whether they chose to listen to it.

A horrific screech rent the night as two yellow cabs collided. The smell of burning rubber filled the air, followed by the angry curses of the drivers. Rage spread like a contagion, as it always did in the presence of a large number of Kleptopsychs. Overhead, clouds gathered to shroud the sky.

“Damn, we better hurry. It’s going to start to rain.”

She cast him a dubious look. “After everything we’ve been through tonight, don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little water?”

He hiked his shoulder in a belligerent shrug. “I hate the rain. Got a problem with that?”

Water was one of his few weaknesses. After the Great Flood, his kind had developed an acute aversion to getting wet. The drops were always ice cold against their skin. Cold enough to burn. That was why Kleptopsychs, Hybrids and Rogues alike favored leather. It kept the rain from penetrating their flesh.