His Soul To Keep (Dark Knights of Heaven Book 1) (2 page)

As Cassidy watched, he relaxed and rippled back into the form of the beautiful man with no more than a soft grunt.

It was all too much for her brain to handle.

Feeling as though she’d been dropped from a thousand feet up, Cassidy let go of consciousness and welcomed oblivion.

* * *

"Great, she passed out," mumbled Boomer, giving himself a shake like a big dog as he returned to his human form and stepped behind Kaz.

"This is your fault," Rail snapped. "If you hadn’t provoked me—"

"We wouldn’t have known for certain she was your soul-keeper," Kaz finished. "I’m sure you can feel the connection now."

"We all felt the resonance. That doesn’t mean…" Rail’s heart slammed against his ribs like a mad dog trying to escape. He backed away from Kaz."No. No. No." His hands went up as if to protect himself from what he knew the other man were going to say. "No. It can’t be. She’s not my
Aktura.
" He took another step back.

"The way you reacted just now, there’s no denying it."

"No. I mean, she’s too young," Rail floundered for an excuse. Any excuse. She couldn’t be his.

Kaz shrugged and ran a hand over his cropped hair. "She looks to be in her twenties. That’s about right. Didn’t you feel the loss of your last
Aktura
about what, twenty-six, twenty-seven years ago? Check her ID."

"Good Lord." Boomer covered his mouth to hide his grin. "I hope you’re as happy as me and Gina, but with your luck, you’ll end up barely tolerating each other like Kaz and Seraphina."

Rail took a swing at the other man. Kaz blocked him as Boomer danced back. With a snicker, he bowed, gave a single finger salute, and walked off.

"Take care of your
Aktura
, Rail. We’ll discuss this after she’s settled." Shaking his head, Kaz followed after Boomer. "And this time, lock the door!"

Rail looked at the woman in stunned silence, fascinated by every eye flutter, breath, and movement she made. After all these millennia, he’d found his
Aktura
—the keeper of his immortal soul.

He should have been thrilled beyond reason, but instead an old fear reared its ugly head; a fear having nothing to do with how the woman might react when she discovered what she was being forced into. A fear he tamped down and forced to the back of his mind. Right now he had to focus on keeping his soul-keeper alive.

Chapter Two

The familiar taste of spicy wine once again danced across her tongue and slid deliciously down her throat, making Cassidy moan with pleasure. All her aches vanished, and the throbbing pain in her left side dulled to bearable.

A wonderful tingling spread through her body like warm honey, and made her feel really good. Then, the heavenly nectar stopped.

She whimpered at the loss. "More."

"Sorry. I think I gave you a little too much already."

Cassidy turned toward the deep rumbling voice setting off butterflies in her stomach. She wanted to see him, except her eyelids were too lazy to open. "Why?"

The voice gave an exasperated sigh. "Because if I give you any more, you’ll get drunk and you’re already buzzed."

"I don’t get drunk on wine." She giggled at the absurdity.

"It’s not wine."

"What is it, then?"

"Blood," the voice answered quietly.

Horrified, Cassidy’s eyes flew open to find a large man sitting next to the bed; it was the same man from the corridor.

"What!" She was wide awake now. She inched back, panting with the effort. "Who are you crazy people?" The image of a demon flashed in her mind.

"It’s okay. My blood will—"

"Why did you give me your blood?" She almost choked on the word.

"To help you heal. It’s the only cure for the poison—"

"Poison," Cassidy cut him off again.

"Would you stop interrupting?" The roar echoed about the room, shaking dust from the ceiling.

Driven by fear, she found the energy to slide back. Swallowing, she kept her voice steady, "Sorry."

"No. I’m the one who should be sorry. And I am." He took a deep breath, his chest straining against the already skin tight black t-shirt. "I shouldn’t have yelled. I’m still on edge from the fight with Boomer." Heat mixed with guilt radiated off him. "Now is not the time to get into this. It’s a long, complicated explanation. Right now, you need to rest and heal. You lost a lot of blood, and I don’t have the supplies here to give you a transfusion. And after your little escape attempt, you probably need a tetanus shot too. We’re only set up for basic first aid and triage for our kind. All I can do for you right now is give you water to keep you hydrated and my blood to help with healing. Just be thankful you’re one of the few who respond to it."

Trying not to hyperventilate, she asked, "Where am I, anyway?"

"Go back to sleep. I’ll explain things later." Pushing away from the bed, he stood and headed for the door.

"Rail? That is your name, right? I thought I heard the other men call you that."

He turned to look over his shoulder. "Yes."

"Rail, are you going to hurt me?" Cassidy stared boldly into his eyes.

Rail pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. "No, Cassandra, I’m not going to hurt you." With a shake of his head, he left, shutting the door loudly behind him.

* * *

Cassidy watched the door, barely breathing, counting to a hundred. When she was sure Rail wasn’t going to walk back in, she slowly pulled herself into a sitting position and hung her legs over the side of the bed. The wave of dizziness wasn’t as bad as when she’d first awakened.

When she stood, the room tilted slightly. Holding out her good arm, she breathed through it until things righted. Looking down to watch her footing, Cassidy took stock of her new wardrobe—a black t-shirt ten times too big and a pair of sweats ending at her shins.

On Rail, they were probably shorts. Just knowing he had washed and dressed her twice now without her knowing gave Cassidy the shakes.

An open door opposite the bed appeared to lead to a closet-sized bathroom. Despite her weariness, Cassidy decided to make use of the facilities. At the sink, she dampened a washcloth for a quick wipe down and caught her reflection in the dingy mirror. The woman staring back at her had certainly seen better days—dark circles under her eyes, her color was just this side of grey, and her hair definitely needed to be washed—but she was alive.

For how long?
The question flitted through her thoughts, bringing on the shakes again.

She needed to find a way to escape.

Shuffling out of the bathroom, Cassidy decided to take advantage of her time alone to look around. Maybe she could find something about her captor and her location. After all, he knew her name; he’d obviously gone through her purse and wallet.

The room was sparse and efficient, but comfy in its own way. The walls looked like plaster board painted a dark green, and several Oriental rugs covered the floor. But there was nothing personal about the space. The king-size bed had been pushed into the far corner and piled with pillows. Even without a headboard, the bed took up most of the room. The remaining space was filled with a canvas rolling-wardrobe, a desk covered in clutter, and a rather uncomfortable looking desk chair Rail had recently vacated.

Curious, Cassidy unzipped the wardrobe and peeked inside—black, black, and black—a few tees, a pair of cargo pants, some sweats, and a pair of boots. The desk was even less exciting: History books and gun magazines, some city maps, an atlas, and the cords to a laptop nowhere to been seen. Since there wasn’t any place to hide it, Cassidy didn’t bother looking.

This was a temporary living space. She still had no clue as to where "this" was.

Disheartened, she sat on the bed to figure out her next step.

* * *

"I don’t know why you’re bothering with this nonsense. It’s a waste of time." Kaz stood, hands clasped behind his back, leveling Rail with one of his disapproving stares. With just one look, the old wheelhouse of the barge they were camped out in shrunk.

"We can’t possibly be the last six of the over two hundred forced out of Heaven..." Rail held up a hand to forestall the coming argument. "I admit the evidence is circumstantial, but why can’t you understand this is important to me?"

"Right now, what should be important to you is getting your
Aktura
healthy and settled." Kaz turned to look out over the river outside the window. "Or at least checking into further animal attacks in Nevada while we’re still here."

"I already cleared the attacks that happened before Cassandra’s. Nothing shows that they were specific targets. Most likely, random kills. It wouldn’t be the first time the demons have hunted innocents after being denied their target. I emailed you my reports," Rail griped. What he needed was to get back to his research. Why didn’t the others care about their missing brothers and sisters? Rail didn’t understand what caused the sudden compulsive need that started a few years after he’d felt the death of his previous soul-keeper. For nearly two decades, he’d been driven like a hound on the hunt to find the answers. The need to know what happened after the last demon war ended and everyone scattered had become a ghost haunting his thoughts.

Teasing him. Pushing him.

Frustration sizzled under his skin like a kettle ready to boil over.

Maybe the temporary sense of loss that occurred before his soul settled into its new keeper triggered the obsession? Only God knew, and it wasn’t like he could ask. It had been a long time since the One had bothered taking notice in any of them.

"Are we done?" Rail asked gruffly.

Kaz made a dismissive wave, never turning around. "Go take care of your
Aktura
. And remember what I told you. She’s going to be skittish."

Rail left Kaz’s quarters and headed to the makeshift galley. Hopefully, he could find some food for Cassandra. There weren’t many choices. They had no refrigeration in the decaying ship and only room for a few days worth of food in the old captain’s safe they used as a pantry.

A few minutes later, he looked at the tray in his hand as he made his way down the corridor and wondered if he shouldn’t have gone out and picked up something from one of the fast food joints near the docks. Cassandra wasn’t going to regain her strength on dried fruit, tomato soup, Twinkies, and bottled water.

Rail looked at his boots, thinking. He could make a quick food run and give her some more time to get comfortable with the situation. He’d only given her an hour or so to snoop around his personal space. Though there wasn’t much in the room to give her a picture of whom she was dealing with.

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He had his soul-keeper with him for the first time.

And there he stood with nothing but a door separating them, stalling.

Rail reached for the doorknob, stopping short of touching it. Kaz had told him to be gentle with Cassandra, respectful. Give her time to adjust to her new life.

"Damn." Giving himself a mental shake, he made three quick raps to announce his presence.

When the door opened easily, Rail felt a tremor of disappointment. Oddly, he hoped Cassandra would try to make a simple trap or barricade. Instead, he found her sitting on the bed, backed into the corner, the pillows and blankets piled around her.

Now he understood what Kaz had been trying to tell him. Despite Cassandra’s strong spirit, she was still an injured, confused, and frightened young woman.

Rail approached slowly and placed the tray on the bed. "I’m not going to hurt you, Cassandra." He kept his voice low, thinking back to the abused horse he had rescued—stolen—back in the sixteenth century. It had taken months of soft touches and calm words to get the beast to warm up and trust him. Rail hoped it wouldn’t take Cassandra the same amount of time.

"There wasn’t much available, so I hope you like tomato soup and dried apples." He nudged the tray closer. "And I brought you dessert." He pointed at the Twinkie.

"Who are you guys? What is this place and why did you kidnap me?" she asked defiantly. Her glare was razor sharp.

"You know my name; it’s Rail. I did not kidnap you; I rescued you. You are in our temporary camp. And" —–he cut off her reply—"if you eat, I’ll answer your questions."

Scowling, his guest attempted to retrieve the tray. A hiss snaked around the room as she quickly pulled back, cradling her injured arm.

Rail moved to her side and gently pushed the baggy shirtsleeve up to reveal a fresh, bright red stain spreading across the bandage. "Damn. I’ll need to change that. Can you wait a few minutes to eat, Cassandra?"

"Cassidy." Her glare hardened to a look that could kill as easily as if she had thrown daggers at him. "No one calls me Cassandra except my parents. And only when I’m in trouble."

"Cassidy." Ignoring the promised threat in her eyes, Rail smiled and strode to the bathroom. He let the flavor of the nickname roll over his tongue. Yeah, he liked it. Cassandra sounded prissy; Cassidy had an edge to it.

Returning with a damp washcloth and a first aid kit, he hooked the desk chair with his foot and pulled it closer to the bed. Sitting, he carefully unwrapped the bandages from Cassidy’s arm. Of the four slash wounds caused by the
skratar’s
deadly claws, three were already scabbed over. The middle gash presented the real problem, still swollen and weeping blood. Not surprising. The killing claw carried the most toxin and created the deepest wound.

"You’re not going to make me drink blood again, are you?" She watched intently as Rail washed the wound.

Rail sighed, hearing the disgust in her voice. "Not this time. This will require a more direct application."

"What?"

Cassidy’s fear dragged across Rail's skin like sandpaper as he drew his knife from his back sheath. "Please don’t be afraid." Cutting his right palm, Rail quickly placed his bleeding hand directly over Cassidy’s wound. Instinctively, she’d tried to pull away, but stopped struggling when she couldn’t break free of his hold. "I should have applied more blood directly to the wounds when we first found you, but I was more concerned with getting you somewhere safe."

"A real hospital is safe," Cassidy muttered.

With his free hand, Rail pulled the food closer and caught Cassidy eyeing where he’d set the knife. "Maybe you should try to eat while I finish this up."

Cassidy picked up a slice of dried apple, sniffed it, and took a bite, wincing when Rail shifted his grip on her arm.

Rail rubbed at the tightness behind his sternum and cleared his throat. "The soup should be cool enough to drink, but I brought a spoon."

"Unless you plan on feeding me, I’ll risk the burned tongue and drink from the mug."

It took Rail a moment to realize she wouldn’t be able to hold the mug and spoon in her current condition. Taking his hand from the wound, Rail used the cloth to wipe away the lingering blood. With a grin, he watched disbelief play across Cassidy’s face—his hand had already healed and her wounds looked remarkably better. Without a word, Rail cleaned his knife and returned it to its sheath. He covered his amusement when Cassidy huffed an obvious sigh of disappointment by keeping his focus on the clean sterile gauze he wrapped over the gashes. Even if she grabbed the blade, she must have known he could easily take it back. "That should help with the bleeding and infection, but try not to move your arm too much." Rail handed her the mug before gathering the bloody bandages and tossing them in the trash can under the desk.