Redeeming the Night (10 page)

Ashley leaned against the sill. “How can you track them?”

“Souls are exchanged when people are intimate. Touching another’s soul is as intimate as you can get.”

“So you leave a piece behind?” The idea that all these years she’d shared souls with these slimeballs before doing them in turned her stomach.

Tarma chuckled and jabbed her finger in the air. “That’s why we don’t tell you while you’re in training. Worse than a bug crawling in your ear isn’t it?”

Ashley couldn’t respond, and when Tarma held out a hand she went and sat beside her, allowing her own mentor to wrap an arm about her shoulders.

“There’s nothing to worry about.” Tarma gave Ashley a squeeze. “It’s a very small piece, and what you give to the men, you get back in the end, understand?”

“Sure, right.” She didn’t feel better. In fact, it raised other terrible questions. “What if you don’t get it back? What does it do to you?”

“If the one you’re saving for Nichole doesn’t pan out for
her
you should take him.” Tarma shrugged. “It’s nothing to worry about.”

“Right,” Ashley said. “Of course. But what if I didn’t? What would happen?”

“I don’t know, honey. I always go back and get them. It might take a while, but I keep getting drawn back to them, so it’s almost irritating. Even if I don’t need them, I’ll take them because the constant encounters get on my nerves.”

That didn’t seem so bad. Ashley could handle irritating. “How long have you ever waited?”

“Only one took over a year. I think he was in jail. It took a few years to finally get him. I drove by the compound an inordinate amount of times.”

“But it didn’t hurt you?”

“No, it’s just a little piece.” Tarma rose and walked to the door. “Okay now?”

Ashley nodded and shut the door after Tarma left. She still didn’t like the idea of that scum running around Las Vegas with a bit of her soul. She’d need to track him down in the morning.

• • •

Ashley went down to breakfast, her mind full and her stomach empty. Even with its persistent growls she wasn’t sure if she would be able to keep down the bagel she planned. Too much to consider.

The house wasn’t awake yet, though the sun was already high above the horizon. Late to bed, late to rise. Hard to wake with the dawn when sleep comes only three hours before.

As she toasted her bagel, Ashley thought of the man Nichole released. She knew she would need to be the one to track him, as Nichole hadn’t touched his soul. And he definitely needed to be tracked.

He was clean for now, but what would become of him later? He could take several victims before being diseased enough to catch the attention of the sisterhood again. Innocent victims who were already piling on her conscience.

On the other hand, what if he had been redeemed? What if they could affect a permanent change on these men? Send them home as the men their abused families hoped they would be?

“Change the world,” Ashley whispered to the bagel she pulled from the toaster. It didn’t respond, of course, but seconds later, Jamie wandered into the kitchen. She wore her natural look around the mansion.

It was ordinary. Many of the sisterhood had a feature they despised and therefore spent energy to keep it transformed even in private. Jamie had no such flaw. In fact, she had no distinguishing features whatsoever; the memory of her melted away moments after she passed. Before the sisterhood, she had made a comfortable living as a pickpocket.

“Morning,” Ashley said, setting out a coffee mug for the bleary-eyed woman.

Jamie jumped. “God. Morning. What are you doing up? I figured you’d have a late night.”

“I did.” Ashley took a bite of her bagel. Jamie had come into the sisterhood just before Nichole. It was possible all of the others would understand the position Nichole had put Ashley in. However, she decided to keep things to herself for now. All she had was conjecture. She could consider telling the others if Nichole’s method was confirmed.

“Didn’t go well, huh?” Jamie dug the coffee out of the fridge and started a pot.

“She had different expectations for her prey.”

“Not much left of him?” Jamie tapped her nails on the mug she held.

“In a manner of speaking.” Ashley took another bite of bagel.

“Always knew that girl would set new standards,” Jamie said, pouring more coffee into their mugs.

How could she chat with the others like nothing was wrong? Nichole’s experiment had the capability to ruin the sisterhood’s existence.

Tarma entered the kitchen, immaculate as always. “Good morning, ladies.”

“Morning.” Ashley placed the used mug in the dishwasher and moved toward the exit. Tarma would pull the truth from her for sure.

“Wait.” The order stopped Ashley in her tracks, so readily did she obey her mentor. “We never talked about how Nichole did last night.”

“She’s setting new standards,” Ashley said, then quickly left the room.

• • •

Morning came too soon for Eric, accompanied by the worst hangover in history. His eyelids felt like sandpaper and his mouth like it had been stuffed with cotton all night. The bedroom was blessedly dark.

For a moment, he lay with his face half buried in his pillow, loath to check the digital clock on his bedside. It was before dawn, this he knew for a fact. He hadn’t slept past sunrise since he’d been bitten.

His hangover would be short-lived. As had every injury since he turned. The only good thing to have come from that horrible day.

As he pressed his face into the soft down of the surprisingly comfortable pillow his mind wandered to yesterday’s cases. One girl found dead, slightly older than the one taken. One was an orphan, and the other the daughter of a wealthy family. Both were listed as runaways.

“Nothing connects them,” he muttered to himself. But Aaron’s instinct told him that he was missing something. His subconscious almost had it, but the epiphany slipped away as he woke more.

Grunting in frustration, he turned on the local news. The broadcaster droned on as Eric drank his water and quickly showered. By the time he exited the bathroom to the weather report, his hangover had been washed away.

The weather promised another scorcher
. Astonishing
. As the newscasters started back on the top stories, the mouthful of water Eric had sipped nearly exploded from his lips. A familiar face flashed on the screen.

“ … personnel found the man in a hotel room. If you have any information about this man please contact Vegas police.” The number flashed under a sketch of the troll from the café the day before. “Police would like to find a person of interest, this woman.” There was something familiar about the woman on the screen. He’d never seen her before. However, it was like a tiny voice said,
I know her.

Ashley decided she couldn’t wait for the hunter to strike again. Men couldn’t be trusted even when their own lives were on the line. Following a piece of her soul was harder than Ashley had thought. She felt a general pull to the southwest, but blindly following that pull was impeded by buildings and twisty roads. Occasionally, she was actually driving away from the pull. The effect was dizzying.

She drove with the windows down to let in the morning air. Mornings always held positive meaning for her. As a child, so long ago, she would sneak from the house while her mother and the uncle of the week slept off the night before. The air was fresh and, without the heat and hurt of the coming day, full of potential. But when the adults inside woke up, the magic would break and the day would be ruined.

This early, most tourists would be just getting to bed. Ashley doubted Nichole’s experiment was a local. She’d swing by a couple of the off-Strip hotels.

Planning her route, she nearly missed what seemed to be a golden glow coming from the Palace casino up ahead. Odd that this guy was staying in the same hotel as the leprechaun. She pulled into the parking garage and strode though the side door.

Wearing the same guise as the night before, she hoped to instill fear if he recognized her. She didn’t worry about the added security at the door. It just confirmed that she wouldn’t be able to use the blonde disguise for a while.

Upstairs, she took the elevator to the tenth floor. The closer she came to the little bit of severed soul, the brighter it glowed. Tarma mustn’t have been paying close attention if it took her a year to find her prey.

As Ashley approached the door, the glow practically sang to her. It seemed happy. She tried not to think about what could make it change that way. Knocking, she readied herself. If he tried to run she needed to be ready.

The face that greeted her at the door wasn’t the hunter, but the guy from the bar, Eric. “What?” she asked before stopping to watch the bit of her soul she’d been tracking bob giddily inside his chest.

“Good morning,” Eric said. He didn’t seem surprised to see her. “Come in. I just saw you on television.”

“What?” she asked again, stepping inside. Did he know? Did he take it on purpose?

“You already said that.” The corner of his mouth twitched.

She nearly growled. “Here.” It took all of her self-control not to shake him. “What are you doing here?”

“In Vegas?” His face remained stern, but his eyes danced. For all his solemn exterior, he was laughing at her.

“This is your hotel room.” Of course he was staying in the city, but how the hell did he get the piece of her that now glowed so happily inside him?
The kiss
. “Who are you?”

“Would you like a drink? I have coffee.” He stepped to a table just outside the bathroom and waved at the one-cup coffee maker that sat on top of it.

“Where are you from?”

“Maybe water or tea then?”

“Answer me.”

“Have a drink.” He patted the mini fridge.

Strangling him wouldn’t do. Did he even know what he’d done? She needed to know if there was more of this type of male. Were they organized? “Fine.”

The grin he flashed almost outshone the light in his chest.

“Water.” She sat on the corner of the bed and waited. He handed her a bottled water and sat on the other corner. Promptly, she moved to the chair of his little desk and faced him. “Now, who are you?”

He didn’t say anything until she sipped her water. “As I told you last night, my name is Eric. I’m a private investigator from Chicago. And you are?”

“My name is Ashley. I’m from here.” She peered around the room. No sign of the slime that permeated the hunter’s aura. In fact, the suite seemed like a typical hotel room: some residue of depravity, but nothing from Eric.

“Excellent,” Eric said. “I know as much about you as I did last night.” He retrieved a bottle of water for himself and sat again.

“How’d you get it?” she finally asked, deciding to be direct.

“Get what?” His brow creased.

“That piece of me.” She stood.

“I didn’t … What?”

“What about your friends?” she demanded. “Did they help you?”

Eric shook his head. “Help me? What are you talking about?” He closed his bottle and set it on the floor beside his feet.

The dancing bit of her soul in his chest got brighter.

“Help you take it.” She pointed to his chest.

He glanced at her finger, his eyes wide. “Take what?”

“Me.” She felt a tug from the bit of her soul that had snuggled itself into Eric’s chest. Then it tugged harder, knocking her off her feet, landing her in Eric’s lap.

They both gasped as a second shock wave tore through them. She could smell the coffee on his breath and feel the panting rhythm of his breathing. Her mind went blank. Next thing she knew, she’d grasped his face with both hands and pulled his lips to hers.

She felt the piece in him move.
That’s right, come back
. Then another part of her soul made its way out of her body into his. Unlike last night, she felt it happen this time. Panic rose. This wasn’t right. She should regain the part she’d lost. She tried to back away, but the two bits joined within him and gripped her closer. Then the hole made by losing a piece of herself was filled with a piece of Eric.

She moaned as the bit slipped into place. She hadn’t felt so complete in years, not since she first joined the sisterhood.
Oh, God.

“I gotta go.” Her lips moved against his. She tried to wriggle from his grip.

“Wait,” he breathed. His hand caressed her cheek gently. The pressure of his lips against hers softened again. She sank onto his shoulder. The warmth of his arms surrounded her like nothing ever had. She felt secure, wanted, completely safe. Gentle and sweet and deliciously happy.

At that thought, her eyes widened and stared into his. The brown eyes she’d noticed before were filled with flecks of amber. In the center, his pupils dilated, the black void widening. She could get lost in those depths.

The stubble on his face scratched around her mouth, tenderizing her lips with its coarseness. The rough movement sent tingles through her. Closing her eyes, she ran a hand up into the silky curls of his hair.

Too much, too fast. It didn’t matter; she didn’t want the kiss to end.

A groan escaped her, answered by one from him. She felt his fingers trace the line of her neck. She shifted slightly on his lap. Suddenly, instead of being held, she was being lowered onto the bed.

Whoa
. Her eyes flew open. Releasing her grip on him she gasped. “What are you doing?” She stared at him, breathless and panting, hovering over her. She needed him to pause, but she didn’t want to stop. A sob almost escaped when he nodded and stood. Running his hands through his hair he backed away from her.

“Sorry,” he said, taking a sip of her forgotten water. He shook his head. “I don’t know what that was.”

Sitting up, she tried to compose herself. The moment was over, and she still had to track down the hunter.

“No problem. I-I should go anyway.” She knew what it was. Their souls were mingling. She rolled off the bed, straightened her shirt, and looked to where he stood by one of the large windows.

What had been a happy ball of light now merged with his aura, giving it a two-tone color, white with gold streaks.