Page 17 of Dark Shadow of Guilt

A stream of fog seemed to spurt from his mouth and travel toward her. It flowed through the glass of the automobile as if the window were open. When the mist reached her, fear gripped Maddy’s heart, an invisible hand that squeezed it and tore her apart with panic.

She screamed.

****

Haze was the self-appointedleader of his small group of Soul Suckers in Angor. Two males had accompanied him to the bar, where they had gotten into a trivial disagreement over who would be the first to fuck the female Blood Leech with her boots cocked up on a table so she could watch the testosterone action up close and personal. Her leather skirt was short, and with her legs spread, she shared the view of her pussy with the entire bar. It’s not like he cared if everyone saw her goods. Haze just wanted the first crack at her before the line got too long.

He blocked a fist from his older buddy, but the younger one grabbed around his neck at the same time. Haze tossed him overhead into a row of empty stools. Before landing a right cross, he caught a view in the doorway. “Fresh meat!” he shouted.

A blonde with rumpled, torn clothes peeked inside. Her need of a good bath did nothing to hide her curves or innocent face.

His older buddy dropped his arms to the side to stare, no longer interested in exchanging fists to get first dibs on the Leech barfly who’d inspired the fight. Haze kicked the ribs of the younger, now moaning, Soul Sucker. “Getchur ass off the floor.”

The guy rose, stumbled upright, unsteady, and held his side where Haze had planted his boot. “Wassup?”

“Action.” Haze signaled his guys to follow him outside after they paid their bar bill with the OneWorld’s exchange—creats. On the street, he glanced left. Right. She was gone. They split up, their heavy footfalls thundering on the concrete while they searched for her. Unsuccessful, they reconnected in front of the bar.

Haze spied the empty car. Rubbing his fist in a circle to clean a spot on the side window, he peeked inside. Putting a thumb and finger to his mouth, he whistled. “Here.” He laughed when the female opened her eyes and scrambled into the backseat, yanking her knees to her chest as if making herself small would help.

Being a Soul Sucker, he could draw her to him with his hypnotizing gaze.

But the blonde bitch dropped her head onto her knees, refusing to look at him. Haze and his guys could bust through a window, but where was the fun in that? Since their malady let them eat emotions or feed them to others, he drew a deep breath and released fear. Not that she needed it, but more was always better.

Her shoulders jumped up and down as she trembled. Haze inhaled her emotions through his nostrils. “Aah,” he moaned. “Love the taste of fear at dusk.”

He bent toward his boots and curled his meaty hand around the car’s frame. He rocked it up and down, giving her an earthquake ride. When his followers got with the plan, they gave him an assist, one on the other side and the young Soul Sucker at the trunk. Up. Down. Side to side.

The female scrunched her body tighter, lifted her head, and screamed. Music to Haze’s ears. “Keep at it, baby. Maybe more Scourges will hear you and come running.”

That shut her up. For a few. Then she started in again.

Rock up. Rock down. Rock to the side. Scream. Scream. Feed from the female’s emotions.

Chapter Six

On a street in Stupool, Dom passed three muscled Soul Suckers bouncing an abandoned car. The Scourges’ fascination with automobiles puzzled him. They had fucking wings. Why did they need a machine? But these cages on wheels were becoming popular in Vast, too. Go figure. Inside the auto, a female screamed, but he didn’t give a shit about some Scourge.

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