Existing through the ages by feeding off souls of the living, the egnamic soul takers are a different type of vampire that can take what they want, starting with a single kiss.
She touched his bare chest and settled in close to him, snuggling down so her head rested on his left breast. She closed her eyes and sighed, listening to his strong heart. Damien relaxed, slipping his arm around her and pulled her closer, feeling comfort and warmth with her.
“What’s on your mind?” She asked quietly.
He looked at the contour of her body curled against him, the perfectly smooth skin of her bare hip. The nightshirt had risen up and she didn’t make a move to pull it down. Nature had been more than kind with its gifts to her. Of course, she had been made in a different time.
Damien wasn’t thinking of Psyche directly. He was remembering a time that seemed ages ago and yet so close, when he was with another woman.
“You’re thinking about her again.” Her voice didn’t waver; there was no contempt in her soft tone. She more than understood. She squeezed Damien and moaned softly, feeling sleepy.
Damien pulled on the silk sheet and covered Psyche’s body with it, up to her shoulder. She moved down some and rested her warm leg on Damien’s thigh. He felt that stirring again as his groin grew hot with blood.
A cold breeze picked up the drapes on the tall window that led to the terrace overlooking the wooded area and barn behind the old house. The almost transparent sashes pushed into the room, as if lifted by supernatural forces. The wind almost became solid, threatening the flame on the candle, and tossed Psyche’s long red hair into Damien’s face. Her hair smelled like apples and spice. He closed his eyes breathing deep.
He kissed the top of her head and looked toward the door on the other side of the large master bedroom, but he focused on something else. A small, dark spider with long, spindly legs lowered itself down to the footboard from the top on the canopy. Its single strand of web was invisible. He watched its graceful descent, the front two appendages hung before it as it spiraled down headfirst.
Excerpt
4
It was a little after five in the morning when something heavy woke Mitch out of a sound, dreamless sleep. Something mysterious, almost solid was in the pitch-black bed- room with him. Mitch sat up in the dark and stared out, but couldn’t see anything. He found himself actually frighten. He was afraid to turn on the light. There was definitely something benevolent here, a real force surrounding him, coming from somewhere in the dark.
Mitch exhaled to get some of the fear out of him, and reached out through the dense black open space to where the bedside lamp was supposed to be. He found it, fumbled loudly with the switch, and turned it on.
“I was wondering how long you were going to sleep,” said the man sitting cross-legged on the bedroom floor. “I guess I’m losing my touch.”
“Who the fuck are you?”
Mitch started to get out of bed, his brain was already on the .45 in the dresser drawer, on the other side of the white haired man with the black eye patch. He knew it would be a struggle to get there. He realized he was naked under the sheet, and for some reason modesty kept him covered from the waist down.
The man looked to be in his early thirties. He stood from sitting in a mere second, half a second he was sitting, the next there he was, standing a few feet from the foot of the bed. He was very tall and svelte, his face and hands were the only visible flesh showing, and they were ghostly white and porcelain smooth. Then he moved with the fluidity of an ocean wave, tucking his hands behind his back and smiled at Mitch. His white face and hair seemed to be suspended in the shadows.
“It took some time finding you,” he said, starting in the middle of a conversation that was going on in his head. “Actually, I’ve been waiting for a couple days, wondering if they’d come here. Obviously they didn’t. So I think we should see if we can beat them at their own game.” The white haired man spoke in riddles, giving Mitch no clues.
Mitch grabbed his pants on the floor by the bed and put them on, fuck being modest. He watched the white haired man turn away when he saw Mitch was naked.
“How did you get in here?” Mitch wanted to know, among other things.
He wanted to keep the man talking, distract him. If he could get past the freak he’d get the gun and take the upper hand.
“I came through the front door.” The gentleman smiled at Mitch again.
Mitch picked up his T-shirt he had wore most of the day, and slipped it on. His eyes kept track of the stranger’s movements. There were none.
“I locked the front door.”
“So you did.” he said, flashing a grin. “I was a little out of practice.”
“Get the fuck out of here before I call the cops.” But Mitch didn’t move again once he was dressed. The other man remained statue like. They stared at each other.
“We need to talk, Mister Concland. Or can I call you Mitch?”
“Who are you?”
“Fine, Mitch it is then. My name is Alexander Obrenivic.” He put up a hand quickly to stop Mitch from interrupting. “But not the king. He was a distant relation.” Then he gave Mitch a courtly bow.
This guy’s on some serious shit. “What do you want?”
“Well, it’s not what I want, per se, it’s what I can get for you.”
“Which is?” Now he’s selling the shit.
Alexander pulled something from behind his back and Mitch flinched, expecting a gun or a knife, not a piece of paper. It was neatly folded and the man uncreased it. Mitch had seen a thousand like it before. It was a poster of Jordan.
His heart almost stopped beating.
“Do you know where she is?” He dared to take a step forward.
Alexander shook his head. “No, but I have seen her.” He thought of that young body against his, grinding into him. Her mouth sweet, her blood sweeter.
“Where?”
“Now if I told you that it wouldn’t be much fun.”
“Look you sonofabitch!” Mitch went at him, all his patience and the negotiations were gone.
Alexander was nimble and a lot faster. He simply stepped out of the way and pushed Mitch toward the dresser.
“Please,” Alexander said quietly. “I don’t want to do this.”
Mitch recovered, but not before he slammed his bum knee into the corner of the dresser. Through the pain he found the strength to open the top drawer and pulled his gun out. He hefted its weight and pointed it toward the white haired man.
“You sick fuck, where’s my daughter!”
Alexander’s hands went up playfully, he had a mock look of shock on his face. “Oh no, please do not shoot me with your big gun.” Then he smiled.
Mitch thumbed back the hammer and took step toward the man with more confidence. “You’ve got two seconds to tell me where she is.”
“That’s just enough time to tell you that your gun is empty.” His hands dropped back to his sides.
How the fuck did he know?
“I took the liberty of checking it before you woke.” He tapped his nose. “I smelled the gun oil. Which, I must say is a very unique smell, when you know what you’re looking for.” Then he frowned. “Of course, in here I barely picked it up. It’s hard to get anything with all the stale smoke in the air. You should really quit before it kills you.”
“Aw, fuck.” Mitch mumbled and tossed the useless gun back into the drawer. The clip hadn’t been loaded after the cleaning. He hadn’t realized he’d need it in his own house. “Please leave me alone.” He was at his wit’s end.
“In a few minutes, first I want to know how much you know of your daughter’s disappearance.”
“Why?”
“Because I know who she is with.”
“Is it a guy with long black hair?”
“You’ve met him? good. He’s a nice chap, a bit melodramatic, but I admire his style.”
Mitch walked back around the white haired man. The man was close to a foot taller than him. Mitch sat on the bed, the springs groaned.
“Is she living with him somewhere?” Mitch grabbed his cigarettes from the little table. He shook one out of the pack and was about to light it.
“Please, if you don’t mind. This whole room smells like a gigantic ashtray to me as it is. My senses are very acute, it’s a wonder I smelled your gun at all.”
“You sound like you’re not even human.”
“Please, no insults either.” Alexander looked to the window. “Did he ever say anything to you?”
“No. Not really.”
“I expected him to at least let you know she’s all right. It seemed like something he would do.”
“She’s all right?” Mitch looked up. He finally noticed the pink eye then, staring down at him. Its wild-eyed look gave him chills.
“Yes-yes, they’re quite protective of her.”
“They?”
“The one you met and there’s another lad, and a beautiful female.”
“Did the other guy have blonde hair, kind of long?” Mitch asked.
Alexander frowned. Another one? “No, this one had brown hair, long bangs but very short in the back.”
Another one? Mitch thought. “Where’d you see them?”
“Eh-eh.” Alexander waved a finger at him. “We’ve been through that. Mitch, I want to help you find your daughter.”
“Why? Why should you give a shit.”
“Well let’s say I’ve taken a liking to her.” Alexander saw the change in the man’s face. “But don’t worry, I don’t want her. There’s something else in it for me.”
“What?”
“It’s best if you don’t know. For both of us. As for Jordan,” he loved the taste of her name. “We have to find out where she is before it’s too late.”
Mitch stood again, Alexander was a little closer. “Is she in trouble?”
“No. Not right away, but I suspect it’s only a matter of time. If I can get to her first you can have your daughter back.”
“I don’t know where she is.” Frustration made Mitch want to cry. He felt he was very close to a mental breakdown.
“You haven’t seen him again since the night you chased him into the apartment?”
“No. How did you know about that?” Mitch didn’t think that had gone to the press.
Alexander smiled at him and said, “secret.”
“Stop bullshitting me.” Mitch went a little closer, trying his best to look strong and be intimidating.
Alexander’s face went to white stone. With lightning speed he snatched Mitch by the shirt and drew him closer. Mitch tried to pry the icy hands off him, but it was futile. Alexander sniffed Mitch’s shirt like a curious animal.
“What the fuck are you doin’?”
Anger flashed in Alexander’s eye. He held Mitch back at arm’s length. “Where were you today?”
“Why?” He pushed at the fingers in vain. “What the fuck!”
“You smell like him.”
“Like who?”
“Our black haired friend.”
Mitch stopped struggling, Alexander let him go. They looked at each other for a long moment. Outside the sky grew lighter by a fraction. Clouds had taken over most of the upper atmosphere, thunder rumbled in the distance.
“I stopped in a town today called Cohocton.” Mitch didn’t know why he’d told the man that. But as long as it was out he dug into the front pocket of the jeans and tossed the crinkled dollar bill at Alexander. The man snatched it from the air like a hawk killing a pigeon. He spread it wide and looked at it. He saw the penned name.
“Oh, very clever.” And Alexander grinned. “Seems our friend wants you to find him.” He handed the bill back. “You will show me where this place is. You can not call the police, but you can take your gun, if you wish.” The little good it will do you.
“Is she there?”
“Somewhere along your travels you picked up the same scents the rest of them had on them. If we retrace your steps I can find them.”
“Let’s go then.” Mitch moved to get his socks.
“I can’t right now.” Alexander looked over his shoulder to the window. The static electricity in the air made him edgy. It was a hell of a summer storm coming and stacks of thick, angry clouds would block the sun, but he wouldn’t take the chance. His body was still weak and healing. He had to conserve his strength.
“Well I’m going.” Mitch already had one sock on then the other.
“I don’t advise that.”
“I don’t give a fuck what you say. I want my daughter back!”
“If you go without me you’ll be bringing her home in a casket.” Boy, if I could find one of those right now. But he’d already found his den for the day. “Just be patient, just for the day. I’ll return tonight and we can find her together.” He cringed visibly, showing some of his pain he was feeling. The sun crest the hill beyond the clouds. “I have to go.” He went to the bedroom door, opened it then went down the stairs.
Mitch couldn’t keep up.
Alexander grabbed the front door knob. To him the sun had already heated the steel. He looked back at Mitch as the man limped down the stairs. The bruise and the rain were playing hell with his knee.
“Mitch, you have to wait for me. I’ll be back this evening. We’ll find your daughter.”
“All right. I’ll wait.” Mitch said and swallowed scratchy air.
Alexander left knowing the man had lied. He knew he’d still be able to slow Mitch down though. Humans were so two-dimensional. If you held them up to the light you could see their deceit. Mitch would probably get himself killed. He might even get Jordan killed, or worse the redhead might turn her. Alexander knew he would’ve if they hadn’t arrived. She would’ve been such an exquisite corpse. But that was behind him now, he had better things to do with his time. Revenge was bittersweet, and he was full of it.
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Reviews for "Soul Takers"
Reviewed by Kate Clifford
1/15/2006
Reading these excerpts makes me want to read this book again! And I rarely read any book twice!
The fortunate inherit riches, prestige, positive notoriety. Those not so lucky bear legacies filled with poverty, infamy or, worse yet, the unhinged insanity and murderous urges of their ancestors.
