Soul Weaver Read online

  “Thanks for the quick delivery.” Chloe exchanged a handful of bills for the bag of food.

  Lin shoved the cash into her jeans. “Sure thing.” With one last appreciative glance at Nathaniel, she trotted up the alley and across the street, then pushed her way inside the restaurant.

  “Oh, man.” Something warm and sticky oozed through Chloe’s fingers. “I must have tilted the containers when I took the bag. There’s sauce everywhere.”

  “Here, let me take that. I’ll run upstairs and get the food plated.” Neve stuck a tissue in Chloe’s hand. “Should I set three places?”

  “I’m not sure.” She rubbed at her palm. “I didn’t exactly ask either of you before I ordered.” And now she could kick herself for it. “He may not even like Chinese.”

  “Well, there’s only one way to find out.” Neve walked past. “Go ask if he’s brave enough to join us.” She chuckled. “And remember to use your words… in complete sentences.”

  Chloe steeled herself as she turned. Surely she could keep her tongue rolled up off the floor long enough to ask him a simple question. After all, he was more than a sweaty body. He was special, even if she couldn’t put her finger on the difference in him. It could have been the way his eyes sparkled when he laughed or darkened when he was frustrated. Or sad as it might seem, it could be the way he looked at her like maybe she was special too.

  Every sappy movie ever filmed said a person just knew when they met their soul mate. Everything clicked into place. Birds chirped, music played, the sun shined. Every ounce of their being said this one is mine.

  Chewing on her thumbnail, she admitted none of those things had happened to her. Little wonder since she had only known Nathaniel a grand total of three days.

  With a groan, she admitted this was why she shouldn’t have hired him. One kiss—okay, a few kisses—and she was trying on his last name for size. For someone who hadn’t attended high school, she sure had the right mentality for it. If she didn’t watch herself, she’d start doodling on her receipt books and drawing hearts with his name in their center.

  One calming breath later, she pushed every single girly thought aside so she could ask him about his lunch plans and keep a straight face. Approaching the glass front door, she found him sitting on the tailgate of his truck. Shirtless.

  Her forehead met the cool glass as she watched, fascinated by the way sun glinted off his sweat-dampened shoulders and pale chest. The way his throat flexed and necklace shifted as he raised a bottle of water and took a deep drink.

  He glanced up then and caught her staring, of course. He gave a small wave, which she returned shyly, then tapped his forehead.

  Oh. Her nose was still pressed against the glass.

  He slid from his perch and navigated the wreckage-lined curb. The door opened and heat filled the cool interior of the store.

  “Did you need something?” He traced the top button of her collar with his finger.

  Her tongue stuck to the roof of her dry mouth. Luckily, the scent of man and sweat made her salivate. “Are you hungry?”

  He dropped his arms and bent down, trailing his nose along the column of her throat. “If I am?” His teeth closed over her pulse and his laughter vibrated through that contact. “What did you have in mind?”

  “L-lunch.” Her knees might as well have been wet noodles for all the good they did her. She leaned into his strength to keep herself upright. “I thought you might be hungry. For food.”

  “I didn’t notice the time.” He cradled her against him, so close their heartbeats matched rhythms, then kissed the top of her head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed you’d made your decision.”

  She found the notion of her brain working while in his general vicinity laughable. Her gray matter leaked out her ear whenever he crooked his finger. “I don’t think I follow you.”

  “I’m wounded you’ve forgotten my offer so quickly.” He hummed with amusement and she soaked up the delicious vibration working through his chest into hers. “I guess this means you’d rather keep our relationship professional.”

  His attempt at leaving didn’t get him far. Her arms, linked around his waist of their own accord, held him in place. “I didn’t say that.”

  “So you do want more?”

  “I didn’t say that, either.” More meant opening herself up to the probability of getting hurt. Meant as badly as she already wanted him, she would be accepting an invitation to pain.

  After Nathaniel left, and he would leave once his job was done, Chloe would be alone again, emptier than ever. Every day the sight of the porch Nathaniel had built would drive a nail deeper into her heart.

  “I’m being impatient.” He shook his head and stepped back. “I won’t push you again.”

  “You’re fine.” Better than fine. “It’s not your fault I’m more of a looker than a leaper.” She caught his arm before he headed to his truck. “Do you want to join me and Neve for lunch?”

  His lips curved in a pleased smile. “I’d like that.”

  “It’s nothing fancy, some Chinese from across the street.”

  “I’m easy to please.”

  Lately, so was she. “My kitchen is on the small side.” The daydream where she sat across the table from a half-naked Nathaniel evaporated. “We could eat in the living room, I guess. The coffee table is probably big enough for the three of us.”

  “No, don’t put yourself out. I should probably eat outside as it is. I’ve already gotten you sweaty, but furniture is harder to clean than a shirt.” He stroked a finger down her arm. “Besides, I stink.”

  She bit her bottom lip. He smelled spicy, exotic… edible.

  “I’ll wash up around back if you don’t mind.”

  “No problem.” She pointed over his shoulder. “Head down the alley. The faucet’s around back and there’s a bench under the elm tree. If you’d like to eat there, Neve can bring your food out to you.”

  “Thanks. I think I’ll do that.” Gravel crunched underfoot as he left, giving her a perfect view of the silver mark on his shoulder. “And why, I wonder, won’t you bring my food, meira?”

  Her mouth opened, then closed. Instead of helping him understand, she held her secret locked in her throat. If he hung around long enough, he would discover her condition eventually. If he didn’t, then she saw no reason to tarnish his memory with her reality.

  While Nathaniel splashed water on his face and hands, a chill swept up his spine. Ingrained fight-or-flight reflexes swamped him with adrenaline he would have once used to power his liftoff. Now it made him anxious for his shears. Their absence from his hip made him antsy.

  He closed the faucet and waited. His visitor didn’t take long to make his presence known.

  “She’s very pretty.” Saul stepped from the shadows, and sunlight glinted from the silver pendant lying against his chest. His wings were a glittery outline, visible only to their kin.

  Foreboding tightened Nathaniel’s gut. “I suppose.” He remained neutral as they strolled toward the picnic table.

  Reaching the bench first, Saul sat in the deepest shade. “Is she yours?”

  The simple question had such a complex answer. “Not exactly.”

  “I knew something was up. I said to myself, ‘Self, Nathaniel never does anything without a reason.’ ” He dusted the tabletop with a swipe of his hand. “I couldn’t figure out what yours could possibly be.”

  “So you followed me.” Nathaniel sat at the far end of the opposite bench, where sunlight could warm his chilled insides. “Next time, try not to go for the obvious.” He grinned through the uneasy feeling of having a harvester so close to Chloe. “The church’s bell tower, really?”

  “It was high and cool. Besides, you’ve known me long enough to sense when I’m near.” Saul rested his elbows on the table. “So, tell me. Why are you here, really?”

  “I’ve already told you, I’m burned out.” Nathaniel should have expected Saul wouldn’t let the matter drop without further
argument. “I wanted a break, a little normalcy for a while.”

  Saul drummed his fingers. “So why not stay at the Order’s compound?”

  “I wanted a change of pace.”

  “Fair enough.” His gaze soaked up their surroundings. “This is a nice spot for a vacation. Quiet. Two pretty women to keep you entertained.” Saul smiled. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

  Nathaniel’s fingers curled into his palms. “It’s nice enough.”

  A woman’s low singing halted their conversation.

  “Chloe said to—” Neve paused as she glanced between them. “Oh, I didn’t know you had a guest.” She flashed Saul a hesitant smile. “Should I divide this up?”

  She set a simple plate on the tabletop with a tall glass of sweet tea beside it.

  Saul stroked the back of her hand as she withdrew. “No, pet, I’m not hungry.” His eyes said otherwise as they roved appreciatively over her body.

  Blood drained from Neve’s face. “I should get back to Chloe. Let me know if you change your mind.”

  Saul ran his finger along the rim of Nathaniel’s glass. “Yes. I think that’s a fine idea. I’ll keep my brother company. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it.”

  Neve’s knees seemed locked in place.

  “Are you all right?” Nathaniel touched her forearm and she flinched.

  “I think it’s the heat.” She laughed in easy dismissal. “I haven’t lived here long enough to build up immunity to it.”

  He didn’t believe her for a minute. “Would you like me to walk you inside?”

  “Oh no, you have company. Enjoy your visit.” She left with a brittle smile poised on the breaking point.

  “Pity she’s too skittish for my taste.” Saul speared a piece of beef with Nathaniel’s fork, then popped it into his mouth. “So,” he said around a mouthful of food, “what are you doing here? I take it the blonde isn’t the one holding your attention. The brunette, then?”

  “I’ve taken a job here.” Working in plain sight had invited Saul’s interest, which was unfortunate. Nathaniel owned up to part of his reason for being here, hoping the other part remained private.

  Saul almost choked. “You’re joking.” His eyes widened. “What is she paying you?”

  Nathaniel didn’t answer.

  “She is paying you something, right?” The fork fell from his hand. “Money? Sex? Her firstborn child?” He paused. “That last bit was a joke, by the way.”

  Still no answer.

  “I can’t believe this. You’re building a mortal woman a porch?” He took a drink. “It’s a supreme waste of your time and talent.”

  “It’s my time to spend.”

  “True enough, but still. There has to be more to this story than you’re telling me. Since when are there secrets between us?”

  On Nathaniel’s side, this was the first.

  “Interesting.” Saul glanced up, drawing Nathaniel’s attention toward the upper windows. “Why hello there.” He waved at Chloe.

  She frowned down at Saul, and the look she gave him disquieted Nathaniel.

  “You know,” Saul said thoughtfully, returning her stare. “You could have prettier women for far less work than this one.”

  Chloe’s imperfections, her personality quirks, made her attractive. Her stubborn, too-sharp chin and the sparkling intelligence in her wide-set eyes captivated him.

  “You haven’t done something foolish, have you?” Saul wiped his mouth with the paper napkin stolen from beneath the now-empty plate.

  Cold sweat trickled down Nathaniel’s back. Few knew him and how to interpret his silences as well as Saul. Fewer still had his brother’s nose for ferreting out gossip.

  “You have.” Saul gloated. “Well, well, this day wasn’t a total wash after all. My brother—enamored of a mortal.” He stood. “I never thought the day would come.”

  Neither had he and he couldn’t afford to admit to it. “Have you seen Bran today?”

  It was not the most subtle change of topic.

  “I saw him this morning.” He brushed lint from his shirt. “He’s still stable, isn’t he?”

  “Yes, he is.” Nathaniel refrained from pointing out if Saul had visited Bran, then he wouldn’t have to ask about his condition now. How easily the lies fell from Saul’s mouth. When had Nathaniel started counting them? Worse, when had he started expecting them? “When I called the Order earlier, Hannah told me Bran has nerve damage, but the extent is unknown.”

  “Pity.” Saul stood and tensed his shoulders, fanning warm air when his wings outstretched. Curiosity sated, at least for now, he withdrew his dagger and fingered the blade.

  A stark cry pierced Nathaniel’s mind. His head snapped up. “Chloe.”

  “What is it?” Saul’s wings snapped shut, and his stance widened. His eyes darted left to right in search of danger. Finding none, he homed in on Nathaniel, who jumped to his feet. “The woman?” The dangerous edge of interest crept back into his tone. “How do you know?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” Nathaniel strode toward the building’s side entrance.

  “The hell it doesn’t.” Saul grabbed his shoulder.

  “She needs me.” Nathaniel jerked from beneath his hand.

  “Fine. I’ll go with you.”

  “No.” He snapped his teeth shut over the word. The last thing he wanted near Chloe was a creature capable of collecting on her mark.

  For a long moment, Saul met his gaze with eyes that saw too much. “All right, then. Go. I’ll catch you later.”

  Nathaniel tried not to read too much portent in the words.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The shears gleamed on the nightstand at Saul’s hip. He traced their handle with his finger. They were cold and smooth, but no power zinged through them. They were lifeless, useless, until his brother gave the verbal command to transfer their power. Walking away took supreme effort.

  He could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times they’d been left unguarded.

  This time made two.

  After making a slow circuit of Nathaniel’s bedroom, Saul strolled into the living room. If he got caught, he had several excuses handy. Few would question him. He gave them no reason to.

  A series of high-pitched beeps split the silence. Saul froze, listening.

  Heavy footsteps swung his head toward the kitchen. An alarm? No. A microwave timer.

  He readied his story and prayed it wasn’t his brother, come home for an afternoon snack.

  “What are you doing here?” Reuel strode toward him with a takeout box in hand.

  “I could ask you the same thing.” Saul sat on the arm of the couch.

  Reuel made a scissoring motion with the chopsticks in his hands. “I came for the food.”

  “I came to pick up something for Bran.” The lie came easy to Saul.

  “I heard about that.” He glanced up, chewed, then swallowed. “I heard the seraphs messed the kid up pretty badly. Not that I’m surprised. They’re nasty bastards. Arestes and Trates are the worst of the lot.” He took another bite as if waiting for Saul to chime in. “Heard you saved him.”

  “Bran?” Saul’s voice cracked. Memories of Bran’s battered face made Saul’s gut clench. “I took him to the Order’s compound and left him with his own kind.”

  “Who better to understand a half-breed than another half-breed, huh?” Reuel turned the box upside down at his mouth and drummed his fingers on the bottom. “Did you even stay long enough to hear whether he was going to survive?”

  Glancing away, Saul’s gaze lit on a bookshelf. “Look, I’d love to stay and chat, really, but I have somewhere to be.” He walked to the shelf and skimmed the titles. “Ah. There we are. I’ll just swing by and drop this off—”

  “Cut the bullshit, Saul.” Reuel pointed a chopstick at him. “We both know you don’t give a damn about Bran.”

  Saul narrowed his eyes. Not much he could say to that, and Reuel knew it. So what was his angle?r />
  “If you’d said Nathaniel sent you for something, then maybe I’d have bought that.” Reuel shrugged. “The thing is. He knows you. Knows you’d screw around because whatever favor he asked involved Bran. That tells me Nathaniel would cut out the middle man and handle it alone.”

  “What are you trying to get at?” Reuel wasn’t usually so astute.

  “Why are you really here?” Reuel frowned. “Does your brother even know you’re here?”

  Reaching into his pants pocket, Saul lifted a ring. “I have a key.”

  “Cute.” Reuel chuckled. “When was the last time you used a key? Do you remember how?”

  Saul thumped the book in his hand. “I have what I came for.”

  “Hold up.” Reuel’s grin turned sharp. “You might have said your piece, but I haven’t said mine.”

  Impatience simmered along Saul’s nerves. “I don’t have time—”

  “Delphi sent me.” Reuel set his trash on the coffee table. “He wants the missing soul.”

  Though Saul was tempted to snap I don’t have it, he said, “I’ll handle it.”

  If Saul turned in Bran, Nathaniel would cover for him. If he turned in Nathaniel, no one would believe him over his gilded brother. It was easier to say Saul had made a drunken mistake than to consider Nathaniel had made a conscious one. How had he lost the soul? Was such a thing even possible? Saul didn’t know. He would have thought the mark would tether Nathaniel to the thing.

  “See that you do.” Reuel gave him a measuring look. “I did you a favor by having this chat topside. Delphi’s spoken to you once, personally. That’s once more than most folks get. Word to the wise, I’ve been authorized to use whatever means necessary to get that soul into Hell where it belongs. That means Trates and Arestes, topside. I don’t think either of us wants that to happen.”

  “No.” Seraphs were like bloodhounds in that sense. It was part of the reason Azrael retained his pair to guard their creations. If one were to escape, it wouldn’t make it far. If either of those seraphs were set onto his trail, Saul wouldn’t make it far either. “Let’s not be hasty. I need time.”

  “You’ve had days to set this straight.” He glanced aside. “I can give you a week.”