Page 94 of Jagged Souls

Smoke pours out of Khalid’s mouth, then washes over the wall. The hidden door moves back, a soundless slide of stone as it gives us access.

We step into a completely square room. The walls, floor, and ceiling are all the same. Shiny black stone with runes etched into its surfaces. Some glow a soft red for aggression, others blue for protection, and the rest green for our family power. It’s the same color green as the pins Khalid pulls out of thin air when he wants to torture his soul dolls. The same color green as the soul whips that Delun, Sau’s father, used to kill Antonio’s parents – those infamous weapons that could tear through even a werewolf’s natural defense to magic.

Perhaps one day, Khalid will learn to wield them too, but right now, my brother is focused on pulling on the power of our ancestors to allow me to see and hear everything Micha does. The runes themselves aren’t magical – just like the tattoos on his skin aren’t either. They’re simply trappings for power, this room having been charged by our family for over eighteen hundred years. A battery bank for us to pull on.

Khalid places Micha’s soul doll in the center of the room, on a runic symbol that looks like a twisted heart. As soon as it glows green, a chill rushes through the room, sweeping around us like a ghost seeking vengeance. And perhaps it is, this room having trapped the souls of various men over the years – our enemies whose souls were pulled from their bodies and interrogated by the witches in our bloodline who could control soul magic.

Cid Garcia, Antonio’s youngest son, is in here, killed by Khalid not too long ago. Perhaps he is responsible for the chill across our skin.

The temperature in the room quickly rises back to what it was, Khalid’s magic controlling the restless souls. They’re not quite spirits, not conscious beings just stuck on another plane. They’re more like the characterless husks that we become before the gods reincarnate us as new people. There are no whispers of memory, no real personality. A ‘fetus’ of the soul, a new beginning that is not marred by the sins of their past. But they will never be reborn, not until this room is destroyed. No one can even release them for once they are stored in the runes, they are removed from this world and placed on the outer planes of Purgatory. The amount of power needed to free them would be too volatile for any one witch to control.

My soul itches beneath my skin. My pulse races, and for the first time, I can feel the pull of the runes. The temptation of power. The dark whisperings of magic demanding I set it free.

Crossing my arms, I dig my nails into my bicep and side, fighting the urge to listen to its lure. Magic is dangerous, and until I learn to control it, tapping into the power of the runes would be a death sentence.

My blood screams in my ears, a demanding screech. I scratch my nails across my flesh, forcing myself to focus on the pain. My heart beats harder though, running wild, and my gaze pinpoints in on a single rune. It starts to glow red, and the air whooshes out of my lungs as if pulled by –

“Varius,” Khalid snaps, his voice sharp, and I startle, my eyes tearing from the rune and shifting to him.

I lock my jaw as I glare at him, warning him not to say the words I know he wants to. If he tells me to leave, I won’t be able to hear or see my wife. Khalid isn’t strong enough to share her senses with me outside of this room. But if I stay and lose control, if my magic tries to fight his inside this room, he’ll most likely have to kill me to get it to stop.

I’m under no illusion that I will win in a magical fight against him.

“Show me,” I demand.

His lips tighten, but he nods, and the runes flare bright red and green, their light reflecting in Khalid’s eyes as he twists his hand in the air, tracing tightly controlled shapes with his fingers, binding the spell to be exactly what he wants it to be.

“…fuck that face of yours.”

I step forward at the sound of Micha’s voice, my heart urging me on before my brain can catch up and tell me that she isn’t here. Her voice is merely echoing from the runes. There’s no woman for me to run to, no one to pick up in my arms and hold to me as I cry in relief.

Clenching my fists at my sides, feeling the weight of her absence, I force my feet to still.

Khalid looks at me, but I don’t return his gaze. Instead, my eyes fly around the room, searching for a visual of what she’s seeing. “Where –”

“I’m not skilled enough,” Khalid says. It doesn’t matter how much power this room can give him if he doesn’t know how to shape it to get what he wants. It’s a lot harder to pull an image into the air than mere words.

Then again, it could just be an excuse. I know he doesn’t trust me not to lose it if I see what’s being done to her.

And honestly, I can’t tell him that I won’t.

“Antonio’s separating her and Rudy,” Khalid says flatly, his emotions well hidden, and I force myself to do the same. They need us thinking logically. Coldly. We can’t save them otherwise.

So I lock it down, cross my arms, and say, “Tell him I’m willing to trade. Micha and Rudy for –”

Micha grunts in pain as she’s slammed into something solid.

“I could just take your eyes and pierce your eardrums instead of killing you,” Antonio says. “Then it won’t matter how many soul dolls they make of you.”

My eyes snap to Khalid. “– control of his territory again,” I finish sharply, my tone verging on the edge of desperate. After today, with all of Antonio’s capos arrested or on the run, Aleric and I can easily pick apart what remains of his gang. But if he just gives me back my wife and brother, I’ll turn on Aleric. The Blood Fangs are too weak to fight us off.

“But I want you to hear them come for you,” Antonio says. “I want you to see what they do to you, how your belly will swell with their children.”

“Khalid!” I snap. An order. A plea. No one can control the soul doll but him. I can’t just grab the green figurine and carve a message across my wife’s skin. Khalid has to push his magic into it while he does it. “Tell him!”

He looks at me, but he doesn’t move. He wants to see where this conversation goes. Playing our hand too soon could force us to give up everything, and Khalid isn’t just my brother in this moment. He’s the reaper; it is his duty to protect the Family, even if I would sacrifice it all – all our businesses, our streets, the fucking portal.

Anything to get my wife and brother back.