Her Soul to Take: Chapter 46

Jeremiah peered down at me, his blue eyes bright. He nudged me with his boot, and scoffed as I groaned. “The Reaper broke you. Useless now, aren’t you?”

“Fuck…you…” My voice rasped over my aching throat. I wanted to tear him open, but I had no strength left. They’d taken Rae. Taken her away screaming. And I did nothing.

I could do nothing.

“Leave him here to rot. I have no use for a broken tool.”

The words echoed long after Jeremiah had gone, long after Rae’s smell had faded from the forest around me. It had been hours. Maybe days. Time didn’t pass with the ticking of a clock, but with the cracking of my bones as they slowly knit back together. Muscles and sinew reforming, blood pumping painfully through my veins, my heart pounding so hard that despite how weak I was, it kept me awake. I couldn’t sleep.

I could only lie there, cold as the rain fell around me. Creatures came near, sniffing curiously, but not one of them dared to scavenge.

I wasn’t dead.

Not yet.

All I could think of was her. As I lay there, immortal magic molding back together this fleshy body, her face remained in my mind. She had come back. She had come after me. Damned stubborn woman. Couldn’t obey to save her own life. But she’d come back as if she…as if she could protect me. As if she could fight beside me.

That alone made a little warmth come back to my chest. She was foolish as hell, but she — she loved me.

She’d said it.

It was almost laughable, because why would a woman so vibrant, so alive, love a monster from Hell? Why would she risk her life to come back for me, or offer her soul when I’d already given all I could to protect her, when I had nothing more to give in return?

Love. Because she…loved me.

How simple and silly that sounded. A four-letter word wasn’t enough to describe the desperation in me, the craving, the need to get back to her. It wasn’t enough to describe the absolute fury I’d turn on those who had taken her from me, who had dared to put their hands on her. And if they’d killed her…

I’d destroy them all. I would hunt them down, every last one, every human who’d ever dared to give allegiance to the Libiri. I’d make them all beg for mercy, and give none. The murders that had earned me my reputation would be nothing in comparison to the slaughter I’d unleash on them.

I had to believe she was still alive. I had to believe I still had time to save her.

The downpour was heavy, but I could finally move my fingers and toes. Everything ached, but my movement was returning. I was just so weak, so goddamn weak.

The rain smelled like the ocean, and that made me afraid. The God’s influence was growing. If It didn’t already have her…It would soon.

Something brushed among my mind, soft, almost like the call of a summoner but gentler somehow. It was a feather’s touch in comparison to a summoner’s deep, piercing hooks. A nudge, a caress against my deeper being.

It took me a few moments to realize it was my name being called in the way that only a demon’s hidden name could be: someone was writing it.

I’d given it to Rae, and although I had no guarantees that Jeremiah hadn’t found it hidden in her clothes and taken it, something told me that this wasn’t Jeremiah’s doing. It was too tender, like the touch of her hands on my chest when she’d cleaned my wounds, or the way her eyes looked up at me from the bed, or the way her lips curved in that eager smile of hers. It was soft, like outstretched hands, like a whisper. “It’s yours.”

My eyes opened wide. I was…warm.

Not just that, but my blood was on fire in my veins, my heart like a coal in my chest. I was breathing deeply again, even though my lungs ached. I was getting stronger, somehow.

“…if you can hear me…it’s yours.”

I tried to get up too quickly, and my legs buckled under me. I knew it was her, and knew it was her hands writing my name. I tried again, and was able to get to my feet, gasping as my healing accelerated painfully, and I could feel every new cell as it formed, every interlocking fiber of muscle pulled tight.

I knew what this was. I knew why I could suddenly feel her touch my mind as I could touch hers, why I could hear her voice, feel her as if she was right there.

She’d done it; she’d given her soul to me. Every passing second bound us more tightly together, locking her vibrant mortal soul into mine. I could feel her like a thread, binding tighter and tighter around me and tugging, desperately tugging, trying to draw closer.

She was alive. She was out there and alive.

And I wasn’t going to lose her.

With every passing second, I was getting strong. Strong enough to walk, then to run. Strong enough to find her scent, strong enough to follow the tug of her soul on mine. I’d steal her from the hands of God Itself if I had to.