Soul Bound (38 page)

Years ago their mother had admitted to having a one-night stand before Lia was born, but there was no proof this man had actually fathered her. Cassie had always suspected that he had, though, because their father had left shortly after Lia was born.

“That must have hurt,” Diane said to Cassie, her expression both smug and calculating, “always being second best.”

Cassie began to cry again.

Anger sliced through Lia, and she rounded on Diane. “Get away from her. Your presence is just making the situation worse.” She dipped her hand into her pocket, gripped the syringe. Cassie wouldn’t recover until Diane was out of the picture, but Lia couldn’t act until she found the perfect opening. She had only one shot. She had to use it wisely.

“My whole life I’ve searched for something,” Cassie sobbed. “Something that would make sense of things, make it all worthwhile, you know? But all I got for my efforts was slap after slap in the face. But you, you found it without even trying. Not that I’m surprised. Things have always come easy for you.”

“Me?” Shock speared through her. “I had to work for every ounce of success, bury my face in books, sacrifice whatever pathetic social life I had. You’re the one everyone bends over backward to be around.” Lia had lost count of how many times someone had used her to get close to her gorgeous sister. If not for Cassie, no one would have spared her a second glance.

“You’re beautiful and funny and exciting,” Lia said, unshed tears searing her throat. “The one all the guys want.”

“Except for the one guy
I
want. Jace.” Cassie’s voice trailed off. A cloud passed behind her eyes.

Lia fought not to panic. “I don’t know what Diane told you, but there’s a lot you don’t understand. If you come inside, I’ll explain everything.”

“You’re wasting your breath,” Diane said. “She won’t come in unless I will her to.”

“Then do it, goddammit!” Desperation made the order sound like a plea.

“And ruin all the fun?” Diane smirked.

Lia wanted to punch her, badly. She was seeing firsthand what the Kleptopsychs did best—mess with people’s heads, crush their spirits, promote discord and resentment—and it turned her stomach.

With another heartrending sob, Cassie withdrew her hand from the railing, prepared to withdraw the other. Time had run out. It was now or never. Lia whipped out the syringe and lunged toward Diane, but the woman swatted her aside with a wave of her hand. Pain slashed through Lia’s shoulder as she slammed into the brick wall.

“Do you really think you can best me?” Diane’s expression no longer held any amusement. It was downright feral. She took a few predatory steps toward her.

Lia tried to scramble to her feet, but Diane knocked her down without even touching her, then lifted her in the air like a rag doll. “A flick of my wrist is all it would take. One flick and you’ll go flying.”

The next few seconds played out in slow-motion. Breaking free from her trance, Cassie climbed back onto the balcony and threw herself at an unsuspecting Diane. As soon as the nurse’s concentration faltered, Lia plunked to the ground. Seizing the opportunity, she clambered back onto her feet, sprang forth. With a determined grunt, she buried the needle into Diane’s neck and compressed the plunger.

Lia had gotten the syringe from her medical bag back at her townhouse. Before making her way here, she’d carefully dipped the needle into the vial of angel’s blood and withdrawn every last drop. She figured injecting the substance directly into Diane’s bloodstream would prove far more effective than a misplaced stab wound. Her assumption had been correct.

Diane hollered and crumpled to the ground. A network of fine blue veins spread from the injection site. Her face swelled, followed by her throat, and she collapsed in a boneless heap to writhe on the balcony floor.

Lia met Cassie’s tearful gaze, parted her lips to thank her.

She didn’t get the chance.

Diane scraped together enough strength to rasp out one last life-altering command. “Jump.”

Like a puppet on a string Cassie stumbled back, gripped the balcony railing and obediently flung herself over it. A cloud scuttled across the sky, blocking out the sun. For a few seconds, there was only silence. Then a heavy clunk shattered the day, followed by the eerie screech of tires skidding across the blacktop.

Chapter Thirty-Five

After he convinced the cop he was a law-abiding citizen who’d been driving according to the speed limit, Jace’s first destination was Lia’s townhouse, which proved to be a dead end. Lia had been there—her alluring presence clung to the air like mist after the rain—but as soon as he turned onto her street, the mysterious force that drew him to her compelled him to keep driving. He followed his gut to a high-rise at South Waterfront in downtown Portland.

Cassie’s place.
He’d been here before, several times, and faded memories uncurled to invade his mind. After last night, he should’ve figured this was where she’d go.

The Buick he and Lia had rented sat parked at the corner, mere yards from the building. Police cars and an ambulance lined the street. The smell of blood rose like a cloud to burn his nostrils, seconds before he noticed the body being lifted onto a stretcher. Bloodstained blond hair streamed from the victim’s head, concealing her face.

His heart bucked, rammed iron fists into his ribs. “Lia?” He shoved his way through the crowd that had gathered.

“I’m sorry.” A policeman blocked his path. “Only authorized personnel past this point.”

“I know her. I have to get through.” The body was wheeled into the ambulance before Jace could get a clear look at the woman.

“Step back, sir.”

Fighting to get a grip of himself, he captured the cop’s unflinching stare. “Let me through. Now.”

Without another word, the man moved aside, granting him access. Jace made a beeline for the ambulance and leapt through the doors. Holding his breath, he aimed a glance at the victim’s battered face.

Not Lia. Cassie.

Relief rushed through him, followed by a slow burn of sorrow. He couldn’t much remember the months he’d spent with Cassie. They were nothing more than scattered pieces of a puzzle he kept trying to put together. But she mattered to Lia, so she mattered to him.

“I’m sorry, Cass,” he whispered. “I’m sorry for everything.” Had he done this? Had he broken her, caused such irreparable damage to her psyche? How many lives did he have to destroy before he accepted what he was?

One of the paramedics gripped his arm. “Mister, I have to ask you to leave.”

“I knew her,” Jace told him, guilt a painful snarl in his abdomen.

“I’m sorry,” the man said.

Jace nodded solemnly. “Was there another woman with her? Lia Benson, her sister.”

The paramedic shook his head. “A passerby reported the incident. Looks like a suicide. The authorities are up there checking the victim’s place out. They should have some answers for you soon.” He nudged Jace toward the door.

Jace complied, climbing out of the ambulance and heading toward the apartment building. Policemen stood guarding the main entrance, but Jace convinced them to let him pass. Instinct guided him to a unit on the tenth floor, where Lia’s essence permeated the air, as did the familiar fragrance of jasmine and lavender.

She’d been here, and not too long ago.

The place was crawling with cops, who once again attempted to deny him access. A weary Jace snaked his way into their thoughts and persuaded them he wasn’t there. One by one, they grew blind to his presence, leaving him free to comb the place at will.

A medley of conflicting energies spilled from the walls to batter his senses. One belonged to Lia, the other to Cassie, but there was a third one as well. One that was dark and dangerous and oddly familiar.

Diane. He’d recognize her foul aura anywhere.

Muttering a curse, he shot to the balcony, where the Kleptopsych’s energy hovered like a fetid stench. One of the cops was bagging a bloody syringe. Jace hastily took it from him. “You never saw this,” he commanded.

The cop reentered the apartment in a daze.

“Find anything?” his partner asked.

“Nothing,” the man replied, shaking his head to clear it.

Jace examined the needle, taking care not to touch it. He’d bet a kidney it was covered in angel’s blood. The same angel’s blood Lia had swiped from the motel room. Everything suddenly made sense.

Diane had failed to get to him, so she’d gone after Lia instead, using her sister to lure her out of hiding. Lia had put up a fight, but something had obviously gone wrong. And what about the guard Cal had posted outside Cassie’s door? What had happened to him?

All Jace knew was that Cassie was dead and Lia was nowhere to be found. But worse still was the fact that, for the first time since he’d met her, she failed to call to that part inside him that was inextricably bound to her. As hard as he tried, he couldn’t tap into her unique energy trail and follow her.

And that scared him. It scared him shitless.

Diane negotiated the tricky web of tunnels that made up the catacombs, an unconscious Lia slung over her shoulder. She’d dropped the Watcher’s corpse a few yards back, where she was certain it would not be discovered until she could return and properly dispose of it. Right now she had more pressing matters, such as delivering Lia to Athanatos and collecting her prize.

Blood pounded behind her temples. A slow throb smoldered beneath her blue-veined skin. The effects of the angel’s blood Lia had injected into her system had yet to abate. If she hadn’t found the strength to will Cassie to her death, then summon her soul, she would’ve surely died a gruesome death on that balcony floor.

Now Cassie’s life-force traveled through Diane’s veins, slowly repairing the damage her cunt of a sister had inflicted. With her free hand, she examined her face, felt the lumps that still lingered there. Would they ever heal? They had to or Athanatos would never have her as his queen.

Pain and disappointment tumbled through her. Cassie’s unstable soul was playing havoc with her emotions. She felt the woman’s fears and insecurities, her desperation and longing—all evidence of a ravaged spirit. One that had been exposed to their kind for far too long. It seemed unlikely that Jace Cutler could’ve carved such deep grooves in Cassie’s soul in mere months, yet here they were, as pronounced as though the woman had been beset by darkness her entire life.

Now that injured spirit coursed through Diane, and she had to choke back the urge to cry.

Athanatos will know what to do.

He’d find a way to help her. Especially after she handed Lia over to him. Once the haze lifted, she’d be able to think clearly again. She’d stop wallowing in self-pity and accept her rightful place at Athanatos’s side. A place she’d damn well earned.

Lia moaned, began to stir. Diane should’ve hit the skank harder. Thankfully, her captive drifted back into unconsciousness. Just a few more turns and they’d reach the heart of the catacombs and Athanatos’s private chamber.

Picturing the approval on her lover’s face when she dropped Lia at his feet, Diane giggled uncontrollably. Pleasure rippled through her, energizing her.

Everything would work out exactly as she’d planned. It had to.

Chapter Thirty-Six

High on the soul she’d swallowed only minutes ago, Diane beat an eager fist against Athanatos’s gilded door.

Only the best for the king.

Soon, she’d share this chamber, bask in all its luxuries. Giddiness rumbled in her chest.

The door creaked as it swung open, and there he stood, the lord himself, draped in shadows and black silk. A few sconces graced the stone walls, their dancing wicks filling the room with soft, golden light. The Kleptopsychs could see quite well in the dark, but they still liked the soothing glow of a lamp. They weren’t animals, after all, and appreciated their creature comforts every bit as much as humans did. That was why they ventured to the surface every so often, where they could live among the mortals in secret.

Carrying Lia farther into the chamber, Diane bowed her head respectfully. “I have a present for you, my lord.” She deposited her burden at his feet and kneeled before him. “I bring you Lia Benson.”

“Rise, Diahann.”

She did as she was told, cowering beneath his scrutinizing gaze.

He gripped her chin and inclined her face toward him. “You have been damaged.”

“The bitch injected me with angel’s blood. If I hadn’t ingested a soul moments after, I would’ve perished. Instead, I bring you what no one else has been able to deliver. The woman Jace Cutler has risked all to protect.”

She expected a passionate embrace or at the very least a word or two of praise, but she got neither. Athanatos continued to study her, and the revulsion she caught in his eyes made her heart shrivel.

“My injuries will heal,” she reassured him.

He shook his head. “The damage is too extensive. Angel’s blood always leaves scars.”

A ribbon of fear unfurled inside her, knotted with despair. “No. I just need to consume more souls. Then my beauty will be restored and I will take my rightful place as your queen.”

He gazed at her as though she were a bug he prepared to scrape off his shoe. “Who ever said anything about you becoming my queen?”

“But I thought—after—” Rage bubbled in her veins. He’d claimed her as his mate in this very room, had branded her as his. “I captured Lia Benson,” she cried out indignantly. “I accomplished what no one else could, not even your precious Kyros.”

“Yes, you’ve been most useful,” he admitted. “Unfortunately, in your current state you are very unstable, no better than a Rogue.”

Spiders skittered down her spine on thin legs of ice. “No.”

He called for the guards, and in a flash they were upon her, dragging her out. “Take care of her,” he stated without an inkling of remorse.

“You bastard!” She struggled to break free, but her captors were too strong. “You can’t do this to me. I won’t let you.”

She’d been a fool. A blind, ignorant fool. The Rogues were right to serve no master. To feed at will. To mate with whomever they pleased. Why hadn’t she realized it sooner?