Soul Bound (22 page)

Marcus wished he had a fraction of Cal’s faith and confidence. The popular belief was that a Hybrid couldn’t extinguish his own soul, but no Hybrid had ever put that theory to the test. As far as he was concerned, there were too many unknowns, too many shades of gray, for him to fully accept what his leader was telling him. “And if he does, what then? Will he become human again?”

Cal shook his flaxen head. “Once a Hybrid turns, there’s no going back. The darkness is in control now, so there’s no chance of Cutler reclaiming his human frailties. Quite the contrary, if he were to ingest this soul, it would sustain him forever, fueling him, making him stronger than any other Hybrid in existence.”

“He would become that powerful simply by reacquiring his old soul?”

“I strongly suspect this is no ordinary soul. You said Lia was able to project energy. Only a soul forged by an archangel can do that. Not only would such a soul be virtually impossible to extinguish, but it would grant its bearer unspeakable power.”

Marcus had never heard of such a thing, but Cal seemed too convinced to be talking hypothetically. “You sound like you speak from experience. Has anything like this happened before?”

Cal was quiet for an exceptionally long time. So long, Marcus didn’t think he would answer his question. Then he finally spoke. “Once, ages ago, but it wasn’t a Hybrid who acquired an archangel’s soul. It was an Ancient.” Perplexing pain laced his voice.

“Who was it?”

A deep, piercing sadness cleaved his leader’s face. “The very creature we hope Jace Cutler will destroy.” Cal’s eyes met Marcus’s again, and this time barely contained fury bubbled within them, overshadowing grief. “Athanatos.”

Night fell like a dark blanket to obliterate the day, with only a few stars poking through the blackness. Jace hadn’t spoken another word the whole drive home. When they reached the house, his mood didn’t improve. In fact, he seemed to sink even deeper into depression.

After handing her some women’s clothing he’d found in a box in the attic, which she assumed had once belonged to his mother, he’d left her in one of the guest rooms and vanished. She donned a nightgown—a soft sheath of silk that revealed far more skin than she was accustomed to revealing—and padded down the vast staircase in search of him. It was strange how intimately she knew this house, as if she’d lived here her whole life. The walls welcomed her, even as an echo of foreboding bounced off their deep maroon surfaces. These walls had seen a lot. If everything was energy, then they’d absorbed some of the misery that had once filled these halls.

All the colors in this house were rich and bold—bright moss greens, cerulean blues, mustard yellows—accented by dark wooden borders and white ceilings. Several elaborately patterned carpets lay scattered across the mansion. All appeared made of the priciest Persian silk. Impressive chandeliers adorned most rooms, their crystals sadly dulled by dust. The one that hung over the staircase must have been an impressive sight once, before neglect had set in.

Music suddenly filled the air, a mournful aria that made Lia’s gut clench and emotion pool in her throat. She followed the hypnotic sound to the study. Jace sat at the grand piano in the center of yet another vast room, tapping out the notes. His movements were so smooth, his bond with the melody so profound, he became one with the music.

Every chord resonated inside her. With a few hesitant steps, she closed the distance between them and sat down next to him. The music ended on an abrupt note. “Please don’t stop. That’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.”

His gaze traveled over her body, more tangible than a caress. He drank in the sight of her. Heat was contagious, and a firestorm swept through her. It ignited in the pit of her stomach and quickly spread to all her limbs. Only his touch could temper the flames. The very touch he insisted on denying her.

He tried to play again, but the notes were choppy this time. He withdrew his hands from the keyboard. “I can’t. The inspiration’s gone.”

He was lying. She could tell. The music he played was more intimate than sex. It drew them together, merged their souls more effectively than a plundering kiss. And he didn’t want that. With steel-tipped resolve, he fought to preserve the tenuous barrier that separated them.

Lia’s fingers vibrated with energy. She ran their tips over the keys, wondering if she could play. Tentatively, she beat out a note or two. “He got you this piano,” she told him. “Your father.”

Jace didn’t move, didn’t as much as look at her. The only indication he’d heard her was a slight twitch in his jaw.

“He forced you to take lessons because he thought it would give you discipline, keep you focused.”

He angled a glance her way. “That certainly didn’t turn out as planned.” Silence swelled between them. “Tell me, since you seem to know a heck of a lot more about me than I know about myself, what kind of man was I? Answer honestly.”

She hesitated. What could she say? That he drank too much? Cheated on his girlfriends? Spent most of his nights in sleazy bars or in casinos trying to coax quarters out of slot machines?

“So that’s how it was,” he said. “I was a real prince, huh?”

She’d forgotten he had a direct line to her thoughts. “Those things…they’re just what you did, not who you are. You decided a long time ago never to let anyone get close to you, so you shaped yourself into something most likely to repel people. Deep down you were lonely, lost and misunderstood. All you really wanted was to belong somewhere.”

An incredulous grunt resounded from his throat. “Right. Poor, misunderstood Jace Cutler.” He shook his head. “Don’t make excuses for me, Lia. I was a total ass. It’s about time you and I accept that.”

He jackknifed to his feet and began to stalk the room. “You have no idea what it’s like not to recognize yourself. To not know what you hate more, the creature you were or the creature you’ve become.” Tension snaked through his body, hardening the square set of his shoulders, the flat, rippled surface of his abdomen. Lia could see his muscles bunching beneath the thin cotton T-shirt he wore.

Without warning, he turned on her. “I almost wish you weren’t around so I wouldn’t have to
feel
so damn much. I liked it a hell of a lot better when I was numb inside.”

The words stung, and pain and frustration tumbled into anger. “You’re the one who won’t let me go home. I’ve left my sister behind, my job, my patients, all because you said you think it’s for the best. If you’ve changed you mind, please tell me, ’cause I’ve got a life to get back to.”

He rubbed his eyelids with his thumb and forefinger. “See? Nothing’s changed. I’m still an ass.”

She stood and approached him. “When you’re through feeling sorry for yourself, let me know so we can get on with this.” Lia never could stomach a self-pity episode. She’d seen enough of them with Cassie to recognize this for what it was. “We’ve got to piece your past together, track down your long-lost mother, find out who wants you dead and why, not to mention work out how I figure into the equation… You’re not the only one who’s become something you don’t understand. So suck it up.”

Startled eyes settled on her face. A grin fought to break through the gloom. “You’re one kickass chick, you know that?”

She stifled a smile. “I’ve got no time to baby you. Life’s not fair. When it throws lemons at you—”

“I’m not a big fan of lemonade,” he snarled.

“I was going to say, pitch them right back. Harder.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re human. Beautiful and smart and so damn sexy it hurts—” Something dark, hot and completely entrancing flickered in his eyes. His breathing grew ragged. Tight fists balled at his sides as his scalding gaze traveled over her again. “And I can never have you. Because of what I am.”

She narrowed what little distance remained between them. “I’m here with you
because
of what you are.” Her voice sounded husky, completely foreign to her.

Something snapped inside him, the thin rope of self-control he’d fought so hard to hold onto. A pained growl escaped his lips as he lifted her off the ground, carried her across the room to the piano and pinned her beneath him. His musky scent, the hard feel of his body scraping her flesh, his hot breath tickling her cheek stoked the fires churning deep within her belly. She arched into him in desperate surrender, wrapped her arms around his neck and dared him to kiss her.

His glance drifted to her mouth. The heat of his need branded her. Boldly, she inclined her chin and brushed her lips to his in blatant invitation. A current of energy zipped between them. Something embedded in her chest began to melt and fuse. She could almost feel herself changing, a slight shift that made her stronger somehow, full and whole. The urge to deepen the kiss blossomed into a raw, tender ache.

At the tentative touch of her lips, Jace sucked in a mouthful of air and quickly released her. A draft rolled in to enfold her as he tore his body from hers and shot across the room.

Lia rose onto her elbows, dazed, her nerve endings still thrumming. He stood in front of the windows again, a broken expression on his face. Moonbeams filtered in through the curtains to drape him in pale, eerie light.

“I may have been a gambler,” he said in a rough, abrasive tone, “but the stakes are too high this time…even for me.” Wide, powerful fingers curled around the base of his neck. “I won’t do it.” His voice dripped with determination and finality. “I won’t chance stealing your soul.”

Lia lowered her lids to quell the burning sensation in her eyes. “Can’t steal what’s already yours,” she whispered, but it was too late. In the time it took for her to blink, he was gone.

Things had gotten complicated, not that he’d expected this totally fucked-up situation to be simple. The evening was soft, deceptively peaceful, but Jace knew the pervasive evil it concealed. An evil that hid not only in the gathering shadows, but in broad daylight. One that even now coursed through his veins, threatening to overtake him as he contemplated returning to the house and stripping Lia bare. Possessing her, body and soul. Absorbing her light until darkness could never sprout in him again.

Need morphed to compulsion, a black, viscous substance that saturated his bloodstream until every inch of him ached. The muscles in his abdomen cramped. His skin burned. The empty well inside him grew cold and cavernous.

He had to have her. All of her. Standing around trying to fight it was useless, like trying to stop dynamite from exploding once the flame reached it.

He kept telling himself that he was in control, that he’d keep her safe, but if he really believed that, he was an idiot.

Safety was an illusion, free will a lie people told themselves every day to convince themselves they had some control over their screwed-up lives. The truth was, they were all at the mercy of forces they couldn’t begin to comprehend, nothing but pawns on a giant chessboard, guided by an invisible hand toward their own demise.

The fact that he wasn’t human didn’t make him the exception. He was as clueless as everyone else out there. Lia was right. He was feeling sorry for himself, and he hated it. Hated being so damn weak, a slave to dark, overwhelming urges he couldn’t understand, let alone temper.

Distance. That was what he needed. Distance and time to get the hunger under control, to contain the monster he’d become. The monster he’d been all along. His father had seen the growing evil inside him, had secretly feared it. At least that was what Jace had gleaned from Lia. But nothing David Cutler had done could’ve prevented his son from coming into his destiny.

With mounting disgust, Jace explored the grounds, stopping at the place where Justin had shot himself. No evidence remained that an eighteen-year-old boy had taken his life here. The blood and brains had long ago been washed away by the rain and absorbed into the ground. Jace fell in a crouch, ran his palm over the spiny grass. When he closed his eyes, he could feel remnants of the kid’s broken aura, like a signature he’d left behind to mark his existence.

He wanted to say he was sorry, but there was no point. Nothing would bring Justin back.

What’s done is done.

The best he could do now was to ensure something like this didn’t happen again. The visit with David Cutler had been a sobering experience. Exposure to Regan, then to Jace had wrecked the man’s sanity. Sitting across from him at the asylum, Jace had seen the chips in his father’s soul, as if someone had taken tiny bites out of him until there was barely anything left.

With a little mental coaxing—the man wouldn’t have been so forthcoming without it—his father had confirmed what Jace already suspected. Making love to a human was dangerous. Even if Jace managed to love Lia without swallowing her life-force, there was no telling what side-effects their joining would have. According to Regan, David Cutler was lucky to be alive…if that could be considered luck. Regan might as well have killed him when she had the chance.

He couldn’t risk doing that to Lia.

He had to put this situation to rest, and soon. Even if he could keep his hunger under tight rein, there was no telling how long he had before his presence infected her. Every person’s tolerance was different. Some broke quickly, while others resisted. It seemed to have something to do with the strength of their light. The stronger the essence, the longer it took to affect it, and no one’s light was more powerful than Lia’s.

But eventually he’d get to her, too. It was just a matter of time.

The hairs on the back of his neck suddenly rose, and his internal debate came to an abrupt end. The air carried a frisson of something he couldn’t explain. He sensed another presence. One that wasn’t human. Some faceless creature hid beyond the trees, watching him.

A ball of fury tightened in his gut. “I know you’re there,” he yelled into the night. “I can feel you.” Which one of his newly acquired stalkers crouched in the woods? Marcus? Diane again? “What’s the matter? Afraid to face me?”

Something crackled, then the presence was gone. The breeze blew across his face, gentle and undisturbed. He raced into the forest, searching for a sign that someone had been there but saw nothing beyond his own warped shadow.