AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Because as I said, it is our duty to protect. And there are forces far more threatening than your father.”
More threatening than the creature he’d seen in the woods? “What forces?”
“You.”
24
JERICHO
Rubbing a hand across the back of my neck, I paced my office, my thoughts still stuck on the night before, with Farryn. One bite. That’s all it would have taken to claim her. One bite would have turned her into a mindless, sex-hungry zombie for all of eternity. Though she would have craved it most from me, such a transformation would have put her at risk once she’d transitioned to cambion. And my bastard father would’ve surely tried to exploit that. A thought which compelled a lethal rage inside of me.
I could’ve punched a fucking hole in the wall because of it.
A knock interrupted my thoughts, and I paused my pacing to see Anya peeking in through the cracked door. “Master, you asked me to fetch Vespyr, and I’ve searched the grounds, along with the dogs and other staff. We cannot find her anywhere.”
“When was the last time anyone saw her?”
“Well,” she said, stepping into the office and closing the door behind her, “I suppose that would be yesterday afternoon in the atrium. She was talking to herself quite a bit. Concerning, but I felt no need to interrupt her.”
It was possible she had returned to the mortal realm. My only issue with that was the information she would take with her, and whether, or not, she might feed that information to the wrong angel, who might then send the Sentinels after me.
“If she returns, I want to be notified the moment she sets foot in Blackwater, and bring her to my office immediately.”
“Yes, Master. Is … everything all right? You seem rather stressed this morning.”
Snapping away my gaze from hers, I strode around to the other side of my desk. “I’m fine, thank you.”
“Very well. Oh, I forgot to say, congratulations to you.” Her lips stretched to that wily, gossip-filled expression of Anya’s. Clearly, Farryn had said something to her, and although it wasn’t my first choice for everyone to know, I suspected she’d needed the support. “I hear you’re to become a father.”
Considering I’d insisted on impregnating Farryn, congratulations didn’t feel entirely in order. I felt bastardly for pushing it on her, but to spare her from the same fate as Lustina, in her previous life, I would have done just about anything the universe commanded of me. If sparing her soul would’ve meant killing three hundred people whose names started with the letter T, I’d have pulled out a directory and gotten to work.
“Yes. Thank you.”
“I never thought I’d see the day! You must be so excited.”
The arrogant side of me loved the idea of an heir. The logical side knew Fate must’ve been drunk off her ass to grant me spawn. “We’re looking forward to it.”
“As am I. And don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.” She ran her pinched fingers across her lips as if to zip them shut. “I shall not tell so much as a soul.”
“I appreciate that.”
“I’ll let you return to your work, Master.” On those parting words, she exited the office, and I stared at the decanter of liquor set out on my desk.
“To hell with it.” I poured myself a drink and flipped the pages of the grimoire to where I’d left off the day before.
In the last few days, I’d come to learn that the black scratches that had been left on my arm the day Farryn and I had returned from the mortal realm, when she’d clawed at me while I’d held her underwater, were the markings of an unbound soul. One removed from the body, usually in a traumatic way, like soul-stripping, leaving it with no physical host. They often hovered in close proximity to theje’untis, those whose souls remained attached to their bodies, in an effort to compel them. The unbound couldn’t commandeer a body, like demons whose souls had a physical form, not without permission from the host. But through scare tactics and a dark aura they carried, they could be quite persuasive.
According to the text, the streaks that had been left behind on my arm were the imprint of the stripped soul’s dark energy, orte nebrisz. The burning of the wound was a physical sensation of evil. The sharing of their pain.
Seeing as a stripped soul remained invisible to all entities, except the host or individual they wished inhabit, it was often overlooked as a culprit in hauntings and possession. Essentially powerless, the unbound soul could do no more than compel and haunt. While it probably scared the shit out of Farryn, the likelihood of it harming her was slim.
I had only ever witnessed a soul-stripping once, wherein it had been removed from its host. A torture so horrific, there was no mortal equivalent.
Burning. Flaying. Amputation.
Nothing compared to the agony of being unnaturally ripped from one’s physical self. Yet, I had watched it firsthand.
Syrisa.
