Page 98 of Jagged Souls
I nod slightly, letting her know I understand. Then I turn towards Krypto as Lou releases her containment spell. The dog immediately runs to Leno’s mound, then starts digging at it with a whine.
“Stop!” Maddox begs as he staggers over to him. He tries to drag him away, but Krypto twists around and bites him on the arm. My brother jumps back, tears rolling down his cheeks.
My heart twisting, I order, “Enoch.”
Breathing hard, my brother raises his arms, and a second later, Krypto is lifted away with his telekinesis. The dog howls in the air, a heartbreaking wail of desperation. After he’s deposited on the ground a few feet away, I order Lou to draw a containment circle on top of Leno.
Krypto doesn’t need to be trapped; I don’t see him trying to go anywhere, but the circle will stop him from being able to dig his way down. Then our brother can rest in peace, and perhaps his dog will eventually tire himself out and just lie down on top of him.
Once Krypto is placed inside the circle, Lou closes it with a small sob. Then she falls to her knees and watches as he immediately starts trying to dig his way to the person he loves the most. Maddox collapses beside her and pulls her into his arms. She clings to him, and he squeezes her like she’s a teddy bear being crushed for comfort.
My throat closing, I turn from them. I catch Khalid’s eye as he hugs his girl to his chest, both his arms around her. His lips press into her hair. I gesture at the garage, and he nods at me over the top of her. She squeezes him tighter before she lets him go, but instead of following me, he lifts her chin to kiss her. I let him take the moment he needs; as reaper, he suffers too much.
Striding towards the garage, I say, “Stormie, Dayne,” in a clipped voice.
The two follow me instantly.
“You’re not to kill the captives,” I tell Dayne as we enter the garage. “That’s no one’s right but Micha’s.”
“Agreed,” he snarls as we head for the stairs. “But why aren’t we going after her while Maddox gets them to talk? Every second she’s with him –”
“I know,” I cut in, hating how fucking useless I am to her. “I canfeelher.”
She’s trying so hard to stay strong, but deep down she’s terrified. Antonio hasn’t started killing her yet either, and that’s making me paranoid. Is he still trying to talk to me? What if he didn’t accept my lack of an answer? What if my silence causes him to take both her eyes and ears? What if I made the wrong fucking choice?
Gritting my teeth, I force my panic down. He has my number. He doesn’t need a soul doll to communicate with me. If he wants to torture her so I’ll do what he wants, then me having Khalid ‘hang up on him’ and act as if I don’t care about her anymore is the best way for me to protect her.
I just have to keep bluffing even when he tries to call it.
“And you’re able toignore her?” Dayne spins on me, the air around him becoming electrified. His eyes darken – literally. Not just with emotion like how it’s meant in books, but with color, his sclera graying, his brown irises turning black. I am reminded of when I hit him with my hybrid strength. I should’ve knocked him unconscious then, but he stood up like it was nothing.
My eyes narrow in curiosity, but I file the questions away for later. Right now, all that matters is my wife.
“We need a better plan,” I say, ignoring his accusation. If it was just us two, I would tell him the truth, that feeling her suffering is breaking me bit by bit, but I don’t trust Stormie. She’s right behind us, and though her parents died fighting on our side during one of the coups, she might blame me for their deaths. So instead, I just focus on the facts as I head into the basement.
“Antonio wants to bring his wife back from the dead. Micha’s only a small part of that plan, so if we can figure out –” I stop mid-sentence. Mid-step, halfway down the stairs.
There is a moment of silence, and then Dayne breaks it. “What the fuck?”
Not knowing how to answer him, I continue down the stairs. The dying werewolves that were thrown into the cells earlier were all in pieces and bleeding from multiple holes. Now they’re standing in a single line behind the bars. They haven’t been healed though. Their wounds are still gaping, but seeping black smoke fills them. The boy I talked to, the one without legs, stands on two solid replacements – matte rather than gloss.
Eerie silence deafens our ears as we draw closer. They were all screaming, crying, or pleading the last time I was here. Now, nothing.
“Fuck. I do not do zombies,” Stormie mutters. I can smell her fear, but she doesn’t run back up the stairs. She watches our backs as Dayne and I stop in front of the first cell.
They don’t react to our presence at all.
“Their eyes…” Dayne murmurs.
They’re filled with the same smoke-like substance that’s inside their wounds. Tendrils of it are still leaking out of the edges, curling out before they vanish. Is this what I would have done to Krypto if Louise hadn’t healed him?
My arm hair rises as my fingers twitch down at my sides. A foreign feeling tugs at me, like a newborn whale’s instinct to swim to the surface. A dog’s prey drive being activated as soon as something small takes off.
I can play with these things in front of me.
Control them like they’re dolls...
All their heads snap in my direction.
