Page 43 of Jagged Souls

“Your Family would have to care about you for you to be a traitor.”

She glances away, that remark hitting hard. In the weeks since her capture, not once has someone tried to rescue her. She’s nothing but the omega to them, the werewolf with the lowest rank. They bully and beat her as a way to build pack morale.

“But we’re not going to kill you if you refuse,” I say as I glance briefly to the side, at the curved zebrano wood that divides the cooking area from the table.

She holds my gaze, trying her hardest not to look.

Then she does.

Her face pales as she watches the grain and knots shift, a creature lurking beneath the surface.

She doesn’t know it’s there willingly, so I let her believe it’s a person imprisoned. A captive who didn’t do as they were told.

“Except, in your case,” I say, “we will tie your soul to a toilet.”

Forever trapping her in a world of piss and shit.

“Olivia can taste the food we put on the counter,” I say, letting her own mind turn against her. “She’ll never leave that place, even if the counter is burned to ash.”

Her head jerks back to me. Her eyes fly to Khalid, no doubt believing it’s his magic that’s responsible. In fact, it’s Mother’s, and I don’t know if she can do the same to Zita, but Zita doesn’t know that either. She’s seen the impossible happen with Antonio’s hybrids; she’ll believe this.

“Fuck,” she mutters, knowing her fate is sealed.

My brother pushes his magic through the soul doll in his hands. Carved out of alexandrite, the dark-green stone has been molded to look exactly like her. A piece of her hair lies inside it, given to him by Maddox earlier, and it ties her soul to the doll. He fixes her arm, and she sags back in her chair. But there isn’t any relief on her face.

“When you get there, you’re to help Micha as much as you can. If she dies, so do you. Khalid will be watching you at all times, and if he gives you an order, fucking follow it.”

She looks at him warily, no doubt knowing exactly how he’s going to communicate with her. A pen can’t write on stone, but he can carve words into her flesh with his magic.

She glances dryly at Maddox. “And here I thought you were the worst brother.” She looks back at me, not giving him the chance to respond; the bitch knows how to push his buttons, alright. He hates not getting in the last word.

“I’ll do everything you ask of me on one condition,” she says. “When Antonio finds out about our deal” –she lifts her chin, utter certainty in her eyes– “give me your word that you’ll kill me.”

Seeing the terror behind her bravado, I wonder what the fuck he’s doing to Micha. Zita’s his granddaughter. Micha’s the wife of an enemy.

My control slipping, I stand with a quick nod. It’s a lie; we can’t spare the alexandrite. We only have three pieces of it left, and once it’s used to kill someone, it’s gone forever. But I will break every vow to save my wife.

As Khalid escorts her out of the house, I open myself up to the blood bond again. Relief hits me when I can still feel my wife. A part of me feared she died the minute I shut her out.

My chest tight, I resist the urge to turn in her direction. Instead, I look at Maddox. “Are you sure about this?” What he’s willing to do for me is going to be the most dangerous thing he’s ever done.

He blows out a breath as he rotates a shoulder and cracks his neck. “Yeah…” he lies. “It’ll be fiiiine.”

“If he kills her –” I start.

“I’ll be fine,” he cuts in as he pats me on the shoulder and smiles. But I can smell his fear despite his easy grin. “Now go find Aleric before he gets distracted and wanders off,” he says before heading past me to head down the hall. I need the vampire’s ability to phase. Otherwise, I’ll be driving for days as I try to pinpoint Micha.

After a quick search, I find the vampire outside. He’s staring at the dead earth in front of the house.

“Let’s go,” I say.

He doesn’t look at me, his eyes scanning the yard. The stillness of his body is making me uneasy. The ward isn’t back up yet. If Antonio attacks us now, we’re fucked. I gaze out, trying to spot anything that’s out of place. I push out with my senses, checking that way too. Nothing.

“What are you looking for?” I demand.

“The source of a disgusting smell,” he says, but for once there isn’t any humor in his voice. He’s fucking serious, and a chill runs down my back.

“Werewolves?”