The soul eater sits in the chair placed in the center of the room, arms and legs bound. His pale face shows no sign of emotion, his eyes empty and soulless. I’ve been up close and personal with many a soul eater, but this one appears different. I’m standing with my men, taking in his appearance. He’s completely bald except for the small brown horns on either side of his head. His pale pink eyes stand out against his pasty flesh, and his face is reminiscent of a Billy goat.
I feel my demon rise until he’s close enough to the surface that my appearance starts to shift. The bones of his skeleton push up against my skin and two large blood-red horns curl out of the sides of my head; they look like spirals breaking out from my skull. My nose sharpens, becoming more pointed, my face elongating. Spikes sprout from my shoulders, the edges sharp enough to slice through skin like butter. My teeth become jagged and my skin changes to a reddish-brown hue, completing the shift. This is the demon who lives inside of me, and he is the reason most think twice before crossing Lucien Sinclair. Because of the pain he’s capable of inflicting, not to mention his hair trigger temper, I tend to keep him on a short leash. With everything that’s happening, I need answers and I need them now. I have no choice but to cut the leash.
Confronting a soul keeper is one thing but confronting a soul eater is another thing entirely. I need the extra strength my demon affords me. If I stood before the soul eater without him, I would be putting myself at risk.
The men standing closest to me need to be on guard. My demon only trusts people who have shown unwavering loyalty to me.
“Damien, question him.” My voice is a combination of my own and my demon’s, making it lower in tone and rougher. It practically echoes through the room.
The soul eater doesn’t react, sitting still as a statue as Damien walks forward until he’s only a few feet in front of the chair. He snaps his fingers in the soul eater’s face, trying to get his attention.
“Did you kill the soul keeper?” He growls, his expression dark. The soul eater remains expressionless and doesn’t respond.
Damien snarls. “Listen, you bloody bastard. Either you answer, or we’re all going to take turns taking you apart bit by bit,” he threatens. “Answer the fucking questions. There was a woman who disappeared from The Fallen Angel. Did you take her?”
If I hadn’t been watching closely, I might have missed it when the soul eater’s jaw twitched slightly with recognition. He can hear everything Damien is saying, and he knows exactly what Damien is talking about. He’s fucking with us.
I let out a vicious roar. “MOVE!”
My men part like the Red Sea for Moses and I walk between then as they try not to touch me, their backs against the walls. I taste the soul eater’s fear when he whimpers, shock radiating through his body as he recognizes the demon standing before him. Muttering under his breath, he shakes his head from side to side, struggling against the restraints.
“Get away from me,” he says under his breath as my eyes lock onto his and I see them fill with horror.
A mere touch of my hand would cause him total agony and I would relish the sound of his screams echoing throughout the building. But I need to probe deeper. My demon is practically bouncing with glee at the torment we’re about to inflict.
As a joint entity, my demon and I enter the mind of the soul eater. A feeling of bliss courses through my veins as we enter his mind, the soul eater splintering from within. We crave his misery, his pain, and as the screams fill the air around us, we relish them. I sense the hunger emanating from my men as I twist and dig my way deeper. I need to find out who he’s been in contact with, need the information he’s trying to withhold from me. But no matter how hard I try to push; I can’t seem to get past a barrier keeping me from going deeper. I give more control over to my demon, letting him explore. He obliterates the barrier and pushes forward, flicking away one blockade after another. Finally, I see a glimmer of what I’m looking for, just out of reach.
Just as my demon reaches for it, blood begins trickling from the soul eater’s eyes and nose, his skin turning blotchy and red. I watch in morbid fascination as his hands clench the arms of the chair, his nails digging deep into the wood and his mouth opening in a silent scream. It feels too easy, like his mind is just giving up and letting us in.
My thoughts stutter as what I sensed earlier flickers and shimmers, growing into a solid black mass with no physical features. Though its form appears human, looks can be deceiving. It wants me to know it’s there. Just before I feel the soul eater’s mind begin to disintegrate, I hear a hint of echoing laughter, as though the mass is mocking me. I stay where I am, unable to stop what’s happening. I feel his brain rupture as I watch the light fade from the soul eater’s eyes, just before his head expands, exploding with a loud pop. Brain matter flies everywhere, saturating everything and everyone in the room. I hear my men’s ravenous growls from behind me and don’t have to turn around to know what’s happening. They’re feeding.
I continue to study the soul eater’s body. It looks like a bomb went off inside of him, the whole left side of his skull is gone. Whatever was in his head sensed my demon’s probing and had, without a doubt, killed the soul eater. I have a much bigger problem on my hands than I could have imagined.
We are in deep shit.
Everyone is in danger, Naturals and humans alike. I must inform the leaders of the other territories of this outcome.
A rage-filled roar bursts out of my chest as I feel my anger meld with my demon’s. My body is sharking with rage, my hands clenched, as I try to beat back the desire to destroy everything and everyone around me.
I vaguely hear the words coming from my men.
“Fucking hell.”
“Bloody hell, move back.”
“What the fuck just happened?”
Damien’s words clear some of the fog. “You should probably all get out of here.”
I hear muttered voices and shuffling feet before the door opens and shuts with a click.
My eyes are glazed over and I’m barely managing to keep a hold on my demon. I need to stop him before he hurts my men. If I don’t, he will leave their dead bodies scattered throughout the building.
I let my thoughts drift to the woman I made promises to such a short time ago and the rage begins to recede. I will have to reveal my demon to her at some point, but I don’t think she could handle me like this. I hope she never sees this side of me, the beast that would gleefully eviscerate the men and women who have come to rely on him, the people who have proven their loyalty.
I feel my demon settling down, my skin and features slowly going back to normal. I turn to Damien and find him on his phone, ordering the cleaning crew to get their asses down here and clean up the mess. He meets my gaze and gives me a nod, watching as I finish changing from the monster rooted inside of me to the man I allow the world to see. No emotion registers on his face. Why would it? His own demon doesn’t differ much from mine.
I look around the dark room to find that most of my men have left. I can’t say I blame them. Seeing my demon in full force would scare the shit out of just about anyone, even other demons. Hell, especially other demons. The demons amongst my men would know who my demon is and are smart enough to get as far the fuck away from me as possible when I lose control like that. Only a few of my men remain, and they are fools. I do not intend for them to witness what will happen next. I desperately need more intel on the soul eater and who he was in contact with.
As I take note of who stayed behind, one catches my eye. Tall, and so skinny he looks emaciated, with greasy black hair reaching his shoulders, I see a gleam in his pale blue eyes. His expression is one of sick delight and I know he’s getting his rocks off on the carnage. Fucking Jack. I’ve had trouble with him before. He is one twisted fucker and Damien has had to warn him more than once, beating the shit out of him the last time. So far, he seems to be toeing the line, but the look on his face sickens me. Even a twisted bastard like myself has some standards.
“Jack. You will wait for the cleaning crew to arrive. Make sure this shit is gone by the time I get back. I don’t want a single fucking trace left behind.”
“Okay, boss,” Jack replies, a delighted grin on his face as he rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet.
Before I walk out of the room, I turn to the others, dismissing some of them. Once they’re gone, I address the rest. “I want intel on the fucker whose head just exploded. Get it for me. Now!” I feel my demon roar inside of me as they scurry from the room, desperate to do my bidding.
A deep growl leaves my mouth. I need to rip something apart. I didn’t get the satisfaction or the answers I so desperately needed, and as Damien and I walk down the hallway, I pause. Letting out an almighty roar, I punch the stone wall beside me. I hit it repeatedly, watching as my hands leaves a dent; the more I hit, the larger it gets.
Damien just stands there, eyebrow raised and a smirk on his lips, as he watches me obliterate the wall. Chunks of stone crumble and fall off, leaving a pile of rubble at our feet. Whatever I felt inside the soul keeper’s mind wanted me to see them. I can’t catch a break. Things keep flying at me from every direction.
I still need to find out who is snitching for Aria. I have an idea of who it is, but I won’t act until I have proof. I want them to hang themselves and given enough rope, they will. I put a certain level of trust in all my people, and they know if they ever betray me, I will handle it, and the likelihood of them walking away in one piece is slim.
“Fuck, Lucien. If you don’t get control of yourself, the fucking wall is going to come down around us,” Damien warns. Fuck me, he’s right. I hit the wall one more time, causing it to splinter. “What did you see inside that fucker’s head?”
Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes and take a few moments to calm myself before opening them. I look down and frown. Blood is trickling from wounds on my hands I hadn’t even felt. I wait as the open wounds knit back together.
I pull my jacket sleeves down and brush the dust from my suit. “There was something or someone on the edge of his mind. Not only could I sense it, I saw it.” I meet his gaze, running both hands through my hair. “Whatever it was, it had some kind of power over the soul eater. The worst part, it was just a fucking shadow.”
“Shit,” Damien mutters under his breath, scrubbing a hand over his face. I can almost hear the wheels turning in his head.
“Shit is fucking right,” I agree as we walk down the hallway. “We need more fucking intel. Like yesterday. We’re in the dark here, and if we aren’t careful, we’re going to end up being blindsided by something we can’t possibly prepare for.”
Damien turns to me. “When I was on the phone, they told me the men you sent into Fae territory are back and that the Fae accepted the invitation. Apparently, the men were unharmed.” He gives me a knowing look. To hear that the Fae not only accepted the invitation but allowed my men to leave without injury is a surprise, to say the least. “Nathan said he will be sending his second-in-command to the meeting in his place.”
In all the years I’ve known him, Nathan has never declined an invitation to meet with a leader. Something is going on and I want answers. His second had better be prepared for my questions. Nathan and I have a fragile alliance, and though we have called on one another for help in the past and we each have people from the other’s territory living among us, the treaty is tenuous still.
With a frown, Damien asks, “Have you heard from Chamuel?”
“No, I haven’t,” I reply, wondering where he’s going with the change of subject.
“Don’t you think that’s…”
Interrupting him, I say, “So unlike him?” I knew exactly what he was going to say, and I don’t want to hear it. The same thought has gone through my head a million times, and I don’t want to hear Damien confirm my suspicions. “I can’t fucking get ahold of him. He hasn’t answered a single one of my calls or texts. And no, I don’t have a bloody clue where the hell he is. I’ve already considered the possibility of him being taken. Does that answer your bloody question?”
From the expression on Damien’s face, my words appear to have shocked him. “Fuck, Lucien! When was the last time you spoke to him?”
“About a week after he left,” I answer, thinking back to what my brother said during our last phone conversation. “He told me he was going dark and if I needed to get a hold of him for any reason, to call or text as usual.”
“And you’ve called and texted and he hasn’t responded?” He asks, a look of disbelief on his face. “Nothing at all?”
“For fuck’s sake, Damien. That’s what I just said, isn’t it? You think if I’d gotten a response, I’d be so fucking worried?” I shout. “Chamuel can look after himself, though. Him not answering didn’t worry me at first, but the more time that passes and the more I try to reach out without receiving a response…”
“Shit, Lucien! Why the hell didn’t you tell me it was this serious? You have to start telling me shit,” he exclaims, his voice rising in anger. “We have enough shit going on around us without you keeping things from me. How the hell am I supposed to help you, how am I going to be an effective second if you don’t bloody tell me anything?!” He takes a deep breath, trying to calm down. “Look, I have this contact. He’s high in the heavens and owes me big time. I’ll reach out and see if they’ve heard anything.”
I nod and show my appreciation by squeezing his shoulder. I don’t give a fuck who his contact is if they can find out where Chamuel is. If I could get some idea of where he is or where he’s been, I can trace my brother from there.
There is one place Chamuel might have gone, but I hope I’m wrong because there would only be one reason for him to go there. Damien’s right, though. I should have told him; I have to stop withholding information from him.
The world as we know it is changing. I need all the help I can get.
