Authors: Wendy Saunders
‘That’s right,’ she replied, ‘to be redeemed at my pleasure.’
‘Alright.’
‘Alright?’ her brows raised slightly, ‘that’s it? No Caveat’s? No restrictions? No thou shalt not kill or steal?’
Charles placed his cup down slowly and deliberately, his penetrating gaze boring into hers as he leaned forwards.
‘I don’t think you understand Cora,’ his voice was low and dangerous, ‘I want my daughter back. I don’t care what it costs.’
‘Well, we have a deal then,’ her eyes glittered hungrily.
‘Yes we do,’ he replied sitting back in his seat once again.
‘I’ll need it in writing you understand,’ she added, ‘you know, just in case.’
‘Just show me where to sign.’
Her eyes glanced down to the table in front of him where a document lay rolled out before him alongside an old fashioned ink well and sharpened feather. The parchment the agreement was written on was old and brown with age. The writing itself was strangely archaic with elegant loops and swirls. He scanned through the document checking it was in order, before dipping the nib in the well and signing his name at the bottom.
She learned forwards trapping his hands with hers before he could roll it up and hand it back. Her gaze hardened.
‘Sealed with blood.’
His gaze held hers as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small penknife. Flicking open the blade he drew a thin line across his palm, his gaze dropping as the blood began to well up from the sliced flesh. Fisting his hand, he allowed several drops to fall to the parchment over his signature, watching as it sizzled like it were fat on a hotplate. Cora glanced down at the document, watching in satisfaction as he rolled it up and handed it to her.
‘There, all done.’ She tucked it into her pocket although given the size of it, there was no way it should have fitted. ‘I will of course need something that belonged to each of them.’
She looked across at Charles’ expression.
‘You do have something of theirs?’
‘No,’ he replied thoughtfully after a moment, ‘but I can get something. It will only take a couple of days.’
‘Well I suggest you do,’ she told him quietly. ‘You have three days Mr Connell, any more than that and the deal is void.’
Danae stared down out of the window, gazing thoughtfully at the now still and silent lake. She hadn’t been in Mercy since that night as the three of them had left as soon as Charles had learned of Olivia’s fate. From that moment he had been consumed by one thought and one thought only, find a way to bring Olivia home. She could understand that, if she had a child of her own she imagined she would feel the same way but they still had other responsibilities. She sighed silently, a small frown marring her brow. It was different for Charles and Davis, whilst they might have some sympathy for the people being attacked it wasn’t personal for them. They hadn’t lived and breathed Mercy for the last few years as she had. She’d agreed to settle in Mercy, at first to keep an eye on Olivia’s aunt Evelyn, when Charles knew Evelyn was nearing the end of her life. After all she’d come to visit him at Morley Ridge and she’d known at the time, even if she’d not said the words aloud. They both knew that she was dying, just as they knew the house would pass to Olivia and that she would come to claim it. No matter how painful the memories of Olivia’s childhood had been, she would be helpless against the call of blood.
Taking one last look at the lake, Danae turned back into her niece’s room. She’d barely reached the airport when she received a message from Charles asking her to go to Olivia’s house and retrieve a personal item of both Olivia and Theo and overnight them to Louisiana. She frowned as she scanned the room, wishing Charles had been a little more specific. Did he mean something with an emotional attachment or something with trace elements of DNA? She wandered over to Olivia’s dresser and lifted the lid of her jewelry box. She stared at it blankly for a moment. She’d never seen Olivia wear much jewelry, with the exception of the moonstone necklace the Goddess Diana had given her and a small delicate pair of gold earrings in the shape of tiny stars. The other problem of course was, as Olivia had inherited the house and all its contents, she couldn’t really be sure what belonged to Olivia and what had belonged to past generations of Wests. Shutting the lid with a tiny clang and a frustrated breath she turned back into the room. Something with DNA it was then.
She moved over to the chair tucked in the corner of the room next to the fireplace and picked up a discarded sweater. It was soft to the touch and a light grey color. Holding it up in the dying light she realized it was a man’s size. She held it closer to her face and inhaled gently. It smelled like Theo. Bingo. She folded it carefully and pulled a clear plastic evidence bag from her pocket. Placing the sweater inside she sealed it and tucked it under her arm. Her gaze swept over the room but nothing really jumped out at her.
She headed into the adjoining bathroom and flipped on the light, staring at all the cosmetics, bottles and tubes of cream lined up on the counter. No, those wouldn’t be any good, not personal enough. Then her gaze landed on a soft bristled hairbrush and she smiled. Judging by the few long hairs tangled up in the bristles and the feminine design she was willing to bet it was Olivia’s. Pulling another clear bag from her pocket she sealed the brush up too. Flicking off the light she headed back to the bedroom and to her backpack which she’d left sitting on the neatly made bed.
She’d just finished sliding the two items into her bag and zipping it closed when she heard the front door open and close downstairs, followed by the sound of footsteps. Slipping the backpack on quickly she un-tucked her gun from the waistband at the back of her jeans and released the safety. As she crept silently down the stairs the house was quiet, except for the noises coming from the library. Whoever it was in the house they weren’t taking the trouble to make themselves quiet.
Veronica bent down scanning one of the lower shelves, looking for a particular book she remembered seeing previously. Skimming along the spines she picked out the one she wanted plus an extra couple that looked promising. She straightened up and as she did so a movement in the doorway caught her eye. Her heart jolted and she let out a yelp of shock. The books tumbled harmlessly from her hands as she found herself staring down the barrel of a gun. For a moment she froze in fear until her eyes began to process the person in front of her. She took in the long icy blonde hair which tumbled free over one shoulder and rested against a leather jacket. Cool pale blue eyes regarded her carefully and as recognition dawned her heart once again began to settle.
‘God’ she breathed, ‘you just took ten years off my life.’
‘Sorry,’ Danae shrugged as she relaxed her aim and re-set the safety, tucking her weapon into her jeans at the small of her back.
She didn’t seem too sorry Roni noted in irritation.
‘Took you guys long enough to get here, we’ve been trying to reach you for weeks,’ Roni frowned. ‘Where’s Charles and Davis?’
‘Not here.’
‘What? Where are they?’
‘Taking care of something else’ Danae replied, ‘I’m here to help you.’
‘You?’ Roni repeated, ‘just you?’
‘Yeah, just me princess,’ she repeated dryly.
‘Sorry,’ Roni shook her head, ‘that came out rude.’
‘You think?’
Roni rolled her eyes and bent down to retrieve the books she’d dropped. ‘How much do you know?’
‘Jake’s been leaving me messages,’ Danae hooked her thumbs casually in her pockets. ‘I know you’ve got the Soul Collector on the loose and that he’s stolen a shit load of souls.’
‘I don’t suppose you know how to kill him?’ her brows rose questioningly.
‘I got a few ideas I’m working on, there are some things you can do to protect yourselves from him but they’re all short term.’
‘Well its better than what we’ve got at the moment, which is a big fat Zero.’
‘You know, I remember seeing files on a spate of unexplained deaths back in the thirties, records weren’t quite as good then but there were police reports. Eyewitnesses reported a tall man in black with white hair and a strange black hat at the scene of each attack.’
‘You think it was him back then?’
Danae nodded. ‘I remember stumbling across the files by accident when I first joined the Mercy Police department. It all gels with what’s happening now. A few of the younger stronger vics ended up in comas but they didn’t survive for long. Back then we didn’t have the same life support capabilities we do now.’
‘So why did he go quiet for the last eighty years? We just assumed that because the first recorded attacks took place around the same time the gate was opened, that he came through with all the others.’
‘He did.’
‘I’m sorry I’m lost,’ Roni shook her head in confusion.
‘There was some evidence to suggest someone banished him from this world around ‘34 and trapped him on the other side.’
‘Who?’
‘That I was never able to figure out’ she replied. ‘The original attacks took place in the same towns as this time around, again he seemed to stick in and around Eastern Massachusetts. These seem to be his preferred hunting grounds.’
‘I wonder why?’
‘Probably the same reason so many others are attracted to Mercy and the surrounding areas, because there is magic here, running just under the surface. It calls to those with supernatural origins or abilities.’
Maybe we can figure out who banished him the first time around and recreate whatever spell or ritual they used?’
‘Maybe,’ Danae nodded. ‘I was going to pull the police files and go back over them.
‘I guess it’s a start,’ Roni sighed.
‘What are you doing?’ Danae’s eyes narrowed and her head tilted as she tried to read the titles on the spines of the books Roni had in her hands.
‘I’m trying to figure out what he’s doing with these souls. I don’t suppose you know?’
‘I’ve heard rumors,’ she shook her head, ‘but nothing concrete. Information on him is sketchy at best.’
‘Well what do you know?’ Roni perched herself comfortably on the arm of the sofa.
‘Charun, often mistaken for our boy Charon. He’s a demon and used to run with the female demon Vanth. Story goes they parted ways a couple dozen centuries back, don’t know why but she continued to guide souls to the afterlife whereas Charun went serious dark side.’
‘Why?’
‘I couldn’t say exactly,’ she replied carefully.
‘But you have an idea don’t you?’ Roni’s eyes narrowed on Danae’s face suspiciously. ‘So if he’s not guiding souls to their afterlives what is he doing with them?’
‘I’ve heard stories…’ she answered reluctantly, ‘but I don’t think you’re going to like the answer.’
‘I can handle it.’
‘From what I understand he keeps them and he feeds off them.’
‘What?’ Roni’s face paled.
‘Told you, you wouldn’t like it.’
‘How long does he keep them for’ she asked quietly, ‘I mean before he…’ she swallowed convulsively, trying to hold back the bile threatening to choke her.
‘I don’t know the mechanics of it.’
‘But some of them may still be alive?’
‘Alive?’
‘I don’t know…trapped somehow?’ Roni bit her lip thoughtfully. ‘We have video footage of him and he is putting the souls into glass bottles of some sort.’
‘I guess it’s possible’ Danae mused. ‘If he doesn’t consume them straight away and somehow stores them, then yes… maybe some of them are still alive, if that’s what you want to call it.’
‘Fiona seems to think that if we can find them and free them, the ones who still have their bodies hooked up to life support could, I don’t know…’
She mimed two halves joining with her hands.
‘The theory is sound, but we’d need to find them first.’
‘I wonder how he’s choosing his victims?’ Roni murmured absently.
‘What?’
‘How he’s choosing them?’ I’ve looked through the files, the victims are all different ages, genders, ethnic backgrounds, there’s no clear pattern.’
‘Emotions.’
‘Emotions?’ she repeated slowly, ‘I don’t follow.’
‘He’s a demon’ Danae began, ‘he doesn’t need to consume human souls to survive. At first he was content to just do as he was supposed to.’
‘Guiding the souls, like Vanth,’ Roni replied.
‘Yeah, but somewhere along the line I’m guessing they became irresistible to him. You hear in all forms of religions, faiths and mythologies about the blinding radiance of the human soul. We as humans are capable of incredibly intense and complex emotions and when we feel those intense emotions they show in our auras. After all an aura is nothing but an extension of the soul, kind of like an echo of what we’re feeling inside. The stronger the emotion the brighter the aura and the more appealing the soul.’
‘So it’s the intense emotions of the soul he’s feeding off, not the souls themselves.’
‘Yeah, like a junkie looking for his next fix. He’ll continue to drain the soul until its nothing but dust.’
‘So he chooses people who are experiencing intense emotion at the time.’
‘It’s not just that’ she clarified, ‘going on what I read in the original police files, some of the victims’ relatives reported that the vics themselves had been complaining of someone following them, stalking them even, some for days, some for weeks before they were finally attacked. It’s like if he’s desperate, if he’s jonesing for a hit, he’ll take them quickly but in other cases he’d taken his time. It’s like he enjoys the hunt as much as the feeding.’
Roni’s eyes widened and her face suddenly drained of color.
‘What is it?’
‘In the woods the other night, Jake and I…we were…it was following us but it didn’t attack.’
‘What were you were doing at the time?’
‘We were kissing’ Roni swallowed uncomfortably.
‘I’m guessing by the look on your face there was some intense emotion going on there.’
Roni nodded.
‘Damn it,’ Danae hissed, ‘where is Jake now?’
‘He was heading back to my apartment after his shift to feed Beau.’
Danae grabbed her phone from the pocket of her leather jacket.