My Soul To Take (3 page)

She pushed her curly brown hair out of her pretty face and exhaled noisily as
if he were the single most annoying person in the entire world. Which he may very well be; there weren't a whole lot of people left.

“You’re falling apart,” she said quietly. “You’ve lost your mamă, your best friend and your wife. I just want to help.”

He was surprised she wasn’t falling apart. They hadn’t only lost Shandor on that fateful raid. Hockey, Becki’s husband, had also died. Or, rather, he'd disappeared. He had never actually seen him die. To top it off, her own mamă had been killed.

“I don’t n
eed help. I’m fine. How many times do I have to tell you that?”

“You’re fine, huh?”

“Yes,” he said through clenched teeth.

"Then say her name. Say ‘Trinity.’”

Fuck. Motherfucking fuck. Becki was such a stupid bitch.

Fists clenched, he got up in her face. “You’re lucky you’re pregnant.”

She snorted. “Start dealing with it, Xan, or it’s going to kill you.”

Kill him? He laughed. "I’m already dead,
fată. Just waiting for my body to cool. Now get the fuck outta my way."

He pushed passed her, more than ready to be home and drinking himself into a stupor. And if Nadya were still there, he would fuck her again.

Becki called after him. “If she saw you like this, Xan, she'd be devastated!”

Good. Then they would be even.

CHAPTER THREE

I drove into Pittsburg, weaving around abandoned cars and dead bodies until I could drive no further. Downtown was one giant traffic jam and the only way I was getting in was on foot. I parked my Jeep up on a sidewalk and pocketed the keys. I checked my clip, slipped my gun in my jeans, and grabbed my duffle bag. Although I rarely used it, I liked the heavy feel of a gun in my waistband. If all else fails, at least I will have ten bullets for backup. I had considered bringing the tire iron, then dismissed it. It would only get in my way if I needed to use my hands.

Bodies of both humans and Skin Eaters littered the roads and sidewalks. Bullet holes riddled the vehicles; shotgun shells were strewn amongst what remained of the fallen. Buildings had been broken into, looted and some badly burned.

It had been a war zone and now it was a graveyard, a ghost town, an ugly reminder of what would never be again.

Every vehicle I passed, I glimpsed inside checking for anything useful. It is astounding what people will pack when they are running for their lives. Hair dryers? Slippers? Seriously?

I paused beside a red minivan. A rotted out corpse lie face down on the steering wheel. The passenger side door was open and another body was slumped forward, still wearing their seatbelt and missing their head.

As I crept closer, I saw a back-facing car seat pushed up against the driver’s seat. My stomach roiled. I knew what I would find and I did not want to see it. Yet, like rubberneckers passing by a car crash, I could not stop myself from looking. Bile rose in my throat and I dropped to my knees, dry heaving.

I thought of Becki and her baby on the way, of little Simza Sava and the twins, Pali and Mala Moldoveanu and little Daniella and Benyamin Jr. Vãdura. Without Gerik to protect them, is this what was in store for them?

After willing my stomach to settle with the aid of deep, calming breaths and happier thoughts, I was able to resume my search for supplies.

Walking through a city that had not long ago been teeming with life and activity, but was now a rotted-out shell, is a surreal experience. Also is shopping without having to pay. Even after several months of taking what I needed, I still felt as if I should be leaving money behind.

As I dug through the garbage and filth in one particularly smelly supermarket, I managed to round up a decent amount of canned goods. I filled my bag and continued searching.

I came across a thrift store with its windows smashed and the front door missing. Palming my gun, I stepped through the threshold and tiptoed through the store, checking every nook and cranny for any sign of danger. Finding nothing, I began browsing through the racks of used clothing. I wasn’t picky; I just wanted some clean and warm clothes for winter.

I managed to uncover a few hooded sweatshirts, some long-sleeve thermals, two pairs of jeans and a pair of hiking boots, a size too big.

I had just finished packing my quarry when I spotted them – a pair of pink flip-flops. They were nearly identical to the ones I had left behind in the Catskills.

I kicked off my ratty sneakers and grabbed the flip-flops. Slipping them on, I wiggled my toes on the comfortable foam bottoms. I didn’t need them; wouldn’t have any use for them until next summer, but they reminded me of fire dances and friendship, of smiles and soft laughter. And they reminded me of Xan, of lips parting in passion and slow, desperate sex under the stars. They reminded me of love.

Walking back to my Jeep, lost inside thoughts of my husband and oblivious to my surroundings, I was caught off guard when a Skin Eater jumped out from behind a dumpster.

“Crap!” I stumbled backwards, summoning Fire. He crouched and leapt just as flames erupted in my palms. I flung my power, hitting him smack in his chest and he erupted in flames and fell to the ground screaming.

Or rather, that is what should have happened. Instead, he leapt, his hands erupted flames at the same time mine had and our
fire met in the middle, evaporating. He landed on his feet, only a few feet in front of me, looking perfectly fine. In fact, he was grinning.

I swallowed hard, not wanting to believe what my eyes were showing me. For the most part, he looked the same. His bleached blonde mohawk had grown out substantially now, parts of it reaching his shoulders. His eyes were red, and his teeth were damn freaky, but other than that, he was still the same good looking, cocky bastard I remembered.

“Trinity,” he growled. “Lucky me. Of all the cities, in all the world, you walk into mine…”

Okay, so the raspy, growling voice was new, too.

“Shandor,” I said. “It’s so nice to see you. You look great. Did you have work done? And congratulations on owning your own city.” I looked around at the carnage and destruction. “It’s very beautiful.”

He smirked. “You’re packing some kind of power there,
fată. Did Gerik finally fuck you?”

“Gosh, thanks for asking, but no, he didn’t.”

He laughed, and yep, he still sounded like a hyena.

“Are you all alone,
fată?” He glanced around as if he expected my entourage to jump out at any second.

“Nope. I’ve got my
Dark magic keeping me company. How about you?”

He bared his fangs. “
I’ve still got my affinity for fire, only now it's dark, same as yours. Courtesy of my happy transition into the world of the damned, I suppose.”

Yeah, I had figured that out when he hadn’t burst into flames and died.

“Listen, fată,” he growled. “I’m gonna go that way.” He pointed in the direction I’d just come from. “And you’re gonna go that way.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder.

What? He wasn't going to try to eat me?

It occurred to me then that Shandor must be afraid of me. He'd known the magnitude of Gerik's power and he knew I now shared it. He was right to be afraid.

“Such self control you have, Shandor,” I quipped. “I’m impressed. Most of your kind still comes snapping and snarling even after they’ve seen what I can do.”

He flashed me another devastating grin. “I've never played by the rules, fată.”

He turned to go.

“Wait!”

“What? You want a hug, maybe a fuck for the road?”

Ignoring his lewd suggestions, I asked, “When did this happen to you?”

Shandor's grin melted off his face. “The raid.”

My heart lurched. Oh gods.

“Xan? Is he…okay?”

“The last time I saw him, frate was still an omnivore,” he said quietly.

I blew out a relieved breath. That was something. He hadn’t died or changed on the raid. He could still be alive.

“You and me, fată, we're not so different, you know? We've both been dealt a shitty hand and we're just trying to make it work any way we can.”

Tears burned in my eyes. He wasn't wrong.

“Do me a favor and try not to judge so harshly that which you don't understand,” he finished, looking more serious than I had thought him capable.

“Okay,” I whispered, as a mixture of confusion, fear, and sadness threatened to overwhelm me.

He took a crouching step, and then paused. “If you find him again, tell him…remind him of the Fat Tuesday twins.”

My brow lifted. “The Fat Tuesday twins?” I was pretty sure I didn't like the sound of that.

He grinned. “Yeah, baby. I’ll let him tell you all about it.”

In a blur of speed, he took off down the street, jumping along the roofs of vehicles. And I let him. I couldn't kill him. I didn't want to kill him. He might not be human anymore but he was still Shandor. He was still someone I had lived and worked side by side with for five months. I was not going to be the one responsible for taking his life.

When I returned to my Jeep, I cast a wall of spirit shadows around me and let my tears fall freely.

CHAPTER FOUR

Xan cursed. This damn hole. How he always was stuck with digging the new outhouses, he wasn’t sure. Although, it had been Tobar who had doled out the chores and God knows Tobar is about as awesome as a rock. About as smart as one, too.

“Xan?”

He looked to the source of the timid little voice and found Daniella Vãdura approaching him, dragging her little brother Benyamin Jr. behind her.

Bending down on one knee, he took the little girls hand in his
and gave it a gentle squeeze. “What can I do for you, scumpa mea mică prințesă?”

She grinned, surprising him. He hadn’t seen her smile since the two of them had lost their entire family.

“Lyuba said not to ask you, but…” She trailed off, her smile slipping.

“No, no,” he chastised, tugging on her dark curls. “You can ask me absolutely anything.”

She took a deep breath and then in one huge rush of words she blurted out, “I was wondering if you had the book of fairy tales that Trinny used to read to us!”

His teeth clenched. Taking several deep breaths, he shoved back the anger and bone-deep pain
her
name invoked inside of him.

“Yeah,” he said, setting his shovel down and brushing the dirt off his hands on his pants. “It’s under the bed, right where she left it.”

With a pop, Benyamin took his thumb out of his mouth. “Will you read it to us?” he asked in his broken toddler speech. “Like Trinny used to?”

“Yes!” Daniella jumped excitedly. “Read Snow White! I love the part where the prince kisses her and she wakes up and they fall in love! It’s just like
magic!”

“Yeah,” he muttered. Magic fucking kisses hit a little too close to home.

After an excruciatingly painful hour of reading fairytales and being constantly reminded of her…

We miss Trinny.

Isn’t Trinny so, so, pretty?

When is Trinny coming back?

Do you still love Trinny?

Was Gerik with Trinny?

Did Gerik love Trinny?

Was Trinny going to marry Gerik?

Were Trinny and Gerik going to have babies?

Yeah, he was more than happy to get back to digging a hole.

Nico sauntered over, grinning. “You look like shit, frate.”

“I'm sorry, I didn't realize I needed to look sexy to dig a hole for people to shit and piss in.”

Nico’s grin widened. “You want some help with that?”

He narrowed his eyes. “What are you so happy about?”

Nico laughed while he tied his long brown hair in a ponytail mid skull. “Mags. She hit me up for a nooner.”

“Nice.”

As Nico pulled his hooded sweatshirt over his head, his long-sleeved thermal caught and he got a glimpse of long fingernail scratches marring his back. He smirked. From what he had heard, Mags Horváth was a hellcat in bed. Lucky Nico.

Nico held out his hand. “Hand me a shovel.”

“It’s gotta be fifteen feet, frate.”

Nico looked down at the hole and raised a brow. “So we’ve got about fourteen more feet to go?”

“Fuck you.”

“Naw, you don’t turn me on the way you used to. Must be the beard.”

He swiped a hand over his jaw realizing that, yeah, he had a beard. Huh.

Nico burst out laughing. “Look in a mirror lately, Deleanu?”

“What do you think?”

Frate’s smile evaporated. He paused in digging and leaned on his shovel. “You need to let her go,” he said quietly.

Biting back a curse, he met Nico’s somber gaze. “I know. What do you think I’ve been doing?”

He shrugged. “Smoking. Drinking. Sleeping. Fucking.”

“Stop reading my diary, frate.”

“If you had a diary it would be full of love poems dedicated to dirt bike racing and which big-titted carnie chick you bagged that day.” Nico shuddered. “Carnies…nasty.”

He shrugged and went back to digging. “They were…talented.”

“Mmhmm, I bet.”

After a good hour of digging, when the hole was big enough for Nico to climb down inside, they took a smoke break.

“Raid’s coming up.”

Xan nodded. “Who’s going?”

“Me, you, Tobar…Marko.”

“Great. One big happy family.” He flicked his cigarette into the hole and lit up another. Fuck Marko. If he blasted him one more time about Nadya, he was going to put a bullet in his head. On the other hand, maybe he would put a bullet in his own head just so he would never again have to hear Marko’s voice. Now there’s a happy thought.

“Frate?”

“Yeah?”

“I know I’m not Shandor…”

No, you are not. So shut the fuck up.

“But if you need to talk, I’m here for you.”

“Yeah…okay.”

Nico nodded once then dug his shovel back into the earth.

With their arms full of anything useful they could find inside the small-town pharmacy they had just looted, he and Punka headed back to the vehicles where Hockey and Mihai waited on guard, guns drawn.

After loading everything into the bed of his truck, he took a seat beside Hockey on the tailgate and lit up a smoke.

“No one else came back yet, huh?”

Hockey shook his head.

He studied his silent friend, who was being even less social than usual.

“What's the matter, frate? You worried about Becki and the baby?”

Hockey turned his dark, brooding gaze on him. “It's not my baby,” he said quietly.

Yeah. He already knew that. Not a lot of people were privy to that sordid little tidbit, but he was. So was Shandor, Trinity and Tobar, the douchebag who had knocked her up in the first place.

He took a long drag and blew out a dual stream of smoke through his nostrils. “She's your wife, right? And you love her, right?”

Hockey nodded.

He sniffed and pointed his cigarette at him. “Then frate, that's your baby.”

“Xan, what if he decides he wants the kid? Fuck, what if he decides he wants Becki? He already stole her from me once.”

Hockey had valid concerns but, knowing Tobar as well as he did, he was sure frate did not have anything to worry about.

“Tobar's not gonna come knocking. He had his chance to claim the kid and he didn't. Becki and the contents of her belly are legally bound to you now. Even as future Baró, he can't do shit about it.”

There was a long stretch of silence, during which he finished his smoke and lit up another.

“She fucked him, Xan,” Hockey choked out. “She snuck around behind my back and why? Because I'd taken a vow to wait? She knew that when we'd started. And now, I don't trust her.”

Shit. He was not a psychologist.

“Are you fucking her now?”

Hockey made a face. “Yes.”

“Does she like it?”

“Yes,” he growled, looking both irritated and embarrassed.

He clapped him on the back. “There you go. Keep up the good work and you'll be fine. She liked you before the sex when she could have dumped your ass and now she likes you and the sex. I'm thinking you're all set.”

Hockey let out a small laugh. “You know, waiting used to drive me crazy. It was all I could think about as a teenager. But waiting for her was worth it. Personally, I'm glad I haven't been with anyone else. I couldn't give her very much, you know, but I could give her me, all of me.”

He didn't say anything; he was too busy thinking of his own wife and all she'd given him. And how much shit she'd put herself through to do it.

“HEADS UP!” Mihai shouted.

They both scrambled to their feet, looking for the threat. When he found it, his stomach dropped to his knees.

Gunnar, Shandor and Marko were running full speed towards them with a shit ton of Skin Eaters on their tail.

"Fuck!" Xan bellowed, pumping his shotgun. Kneeling, he aimed and fired. Bam – right through the head. One down, too many to go.

The four of them let loose a flurry of bullets, some hitting their mark, others catching the fuckers in the arms or stomach, barely slowing them down. Throwing down his shotgun, he grabbed both his guns from the back of his pants.

“We're not close enough!” Hockey roared. Before he could stop him, Hockey jumped off the truck and bolted down the street.

“Hockey!” Punka screamed, “NO!” Punka hopped in his truck and, tires squealing, he took off down the road.

He watched as Marko split from Shandor and Gunnar, running towards a nearby McDonalds. Frate leapt through the shattered front window and disappeared.

“XAN! You dumbass!” Gunnar yelled. “XAN, fucking shoot!”

He zeroed in on the two Skins closing in on Gunnar and took them both out with shots to their heads. Gunnar immediately veered right, jumped over a dumpster, and ran down an alleyway with three Skins hot on his heels.

He had lost sight of Hockey but could clearly see Punka driving straight for the bulk of Skins headed their way. He plowed right into them, sending half of them flying in all directions as the other half-swarmed the truck.

Shandor paused to look back, shouting Punka's name and losing the distance he'd gained from the threat. Cursing, Mihai stopped shooting and took off running for his son.

Oh, fuck, no. He was going to lose everyone.

With his .45 in one hand and his .9mm in the other, he let the bullets fly, trying to eliminate the Skins headed for Shandor and Mihai when, suddenly, there was a hissing snarl to his left and the bed of the truck dipped down as a Skin propelled himself up and over the side. He stumbled backwards and fell on his back, losing his grip on both guns. Just as the Skin pounced, he kicked the fucker in the stomach with every ounce of strength he had, sending him back up in the air. The Skins face exploded and his body fell limp beside him. Gunnar, his savior, hopped up into the truck and yanked him to his feet just as Marko wrenched open the driver's side door. The truck rumbled to life.

He immediately went for his weapons and looked back to where he had last seen Shandor. His blood went cold. Shandor was surrounded and they were out of bullets. A Skin was fang deep in his thigh and another had sunk into his shoulder. He watched his best friend hit the ground hard on his knees, his eyes wide. Mihai, screaming for his son, barreled into the Skin at Shandor's shoulder and they went rolling down the street in a tangle of fists and fangs. Another group of Skins descended on the wrestling pair and Mihai, within seconds, was torn to shreds.

Shandor blew the head off the Skin on his leg and then sunk to the pavement on his hands and knees, soaked in blood and breathing hard. They locked eyes and Shandor attempted to give him his signature cocky grin.

His breath caught. The fucker was saying good-bye.

Forcing a grin, he flipped off his dying friend.

This time, Shandor’s grin was genuine.

“WE HAVE TO GO!” Marko bellowed and the truck jerked forward. Clinging to the tailgate, he watched as Shandor tried to drag himself across the street using only one arm.

Scanning the area, he couldn’t find any trace of Hockey; Mihai was long dead and all that remained of Punka was the blood dripping off the faces of the Skins headed straight for them.

The last thing he saw was Shandor’s body giving out on the sidewalk and his gun falling from his hand.

Xan glanced over at Nico.

"I really miss that motherfucker," he said roughly, fighting back the emotion welling up inside of him.

Nico stopped shoveling and looked up, grinning.

“I know, frate. You and all the women.”

He burst out laughing.