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But instinct had led me here for a reason, and no good ever came of ignoring it.

I slowly climbed the steps, felt the light caress of energy as I crossed over the barrier of the warding potions, and then stopped. The man who’d scattered his clothing through the park lay on his back in the center of the small building. He was lean rather than muscular in build, and was probably about six feet tall, with reddish-brown hair and brown skin—all of which suggested he might be a member of the Marin wolf pack. Even from where I stood, it was obvious he was dead, but it rather weirdly looked as if he’d simply lain down and gone to sleep. His arms were crossed across his chest, and neither terror nor fear lingered on his face.

And yet, a deep sense of violation and utter, utter agony rode the air. One that chilled me to the core.

I rubbed my arms, but it didn’t seem to help. “Why isn’t his soul rising?”

“Because it can’t.”

I frowned and studied the stranger with my “other” senses. And, thanks in part to my connection with Belle, saw what she’d meant.

His soul really couldn’t rise. Not because he was in any way reluctant to accept his death and move on, but because that choice had been taken from him, and in the most violent way imaginable.

Someone—something—had ripped it from his flesh while he was still alive.

Chapter Two

My gaze rose to Belle’s, and in those silver depths I saw echoes of the shock and fear that coursed through me.

This wasn’t an ordinary evil spirit.

This was a goddamn soul eater.

Which was the worst of the worst. At least most evil spirits only killed you in this lifetime. They didn’t utterly destroy any possibility of reincarnation and future lives.

“I think I’d rather be dealing with another damn vampire.” Belle thrust a somewhat shaky hand through her thick black hair. “We’re not equipped to deal with this, Lizzie.”

“And even if we were, I sure as hell don’t want to.” My gaze returned to the naked stranger. How could he look so peaceful when his last minutes must have been utter agony? I shivered and added, “Aiden will have to call in the local RWA representative.”

The Regional Witch Association was the overriding governmental body that dealt with all situations involving witches within regional communities, with each witch having a set district to look after. But they were also often called in on investigations that involved supernatural criminality.

Such as a vampire running amok.

Or a soul eater setting up shop in an unprotected reservation.

“The trouble is,” Belle said, “we’re all this place has until that representative gets here.”

“It surely wouldn’t take them more than a day to do so.”

And while I had no idea how often soul eaters fed, it didn’t think it would be a nightly occurrence. Not even vampires fed that often.

“Even my guides aren’t willing to take a punt on that question.” Belle’s nose wrinkled. “I’m guessing the speed with which RWA gets here will depend entirely on whether they’ve employed a temporary replacement for Anna.”

Anna Kang was the RWA witch who’d taken the brunt of a spell explosion that had been meant for me. Though she’d received what had looked like serious burns, we’d heard on the local gossip grapevine—who apparently had first-rate contacts—that she was recovering better than expected and would thankfully be back on the job within a month or so.

“It’s too big a region to go without a witch for more than a week.”

Belle shrugged. “Who knows how that mob works? It’s not like we’ve ever had much contact with them.”

And for a very good reason—my parents. Or rather, my probably absurd fear that they would one day come for us. It was the main reason behind our change of surnames and the invention of backgrounds that would stand up to fairly close scrutiny.

Of course, it was a High Council ruling that all witches moving into a new area inform local authorities of their presence, but we never bothered. Both of us were unvetted, which technically meant the rules didn’t apply. If it hadn’t been for that damn vampire, the RWA would have remained unaware of our presence here.

“Just in case there is a delay,” I said, “it might be worth hunting through your grandmother’s books and seeing what she’s got to say on the subject.”

“That might be a little hard, given we have no idea what type of spirit we’re looking for aside from the fact it feeds on souls.”

I blinked, and glanced at her. “There’s more than one type?”

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