Page 12 of Tortured Soul (Soulless #1)

“Yeah…We believed it was a spell at first, and we kept referring to it as one. I’m not so sure anymore.

” He shrugged, turning back to the computer.

“It did draw horns and a mustache on Carter’s file after he got mad he couldn’t find a particular book and insulted it.

And then there’s that time Carter was ‘pushed’ from a ladder… ”

I gasped. I didn’t like the guy, but really?

“Oh, don’t worry.” He chuckled as he navigated through the files. “His ass landed right on the book he was looking for.”

I looked around, searching for signs of the mysterious presence. But except for the echo of a laugh a few minutes before, nothing seemed amiss.

“I guess the Archives and I have one thing in common,” I mused.

“Both of you aren’t Carter’s biggest fans?”

I snorted. “Understatement of the millenia.”

“He’ll come around. And if he doesn’t, I’ll make sure he stays out of your way.”

Our eyes met then. I wasn’t sure which one of us was the most startled by his statement. Surprisingly, it seemed it was him.

The pupil in his blue eye expanded, leaving just a thin band of icy blue. His darker eye was so black that I couldn’t tell where the iris stopped and the pupil started.

He snapped his face away and muttered under his breath as he resumed his frantic typing.

Cinnamon.

I inhaled sharply, head dizzy from the smell.

“I’ll introduce you to the other Guardians later today. If anyone comes here without any of us, they’re not authorized to pick up or search for anything.”

I frowned. “Is it something that might happen?” I asked, looking at the screen from the side as he showed me how the software worked.

“It shouldn’t,” he said, his voice strained. “If someone comes here with”—He paused, his throat bobbing—“malevolent intent, the Archives will deny them access.”

I nodded, side-eying him. The presence in this room seemed like it was full of surprises. At least, it didn’t send me away. Maybe it was some kind of test, after all …

“Take a seat, I’ll show you how to navigate the system.”

He stepped back to give me more room and stood behind me as I sat—or rather, ungracefully fell—in the comfortable chair. Apart from a too long exhale, he didn’t comment.

The program was fairly easy to use. Someone would ask me what they needed and the computer would tell me where to find it. If anyone needed to add any new book or document, I would tell it what it was and it would tell me where to put it.

According to Arc, the room rearranged itself about once a month. Twice if Carter pissed it off enough. Every time it did, the update on the computer was automatic.

I’ve never heard of any spirit doing this kind of thing. Maybe it was some techie who died and felt like it needed a purpose…

I’ve never met a ghost before, but with every species that existed, you’d never know, right?

Arc leaned forward, pointing at a file on the screen. My vision blurred a little. I wasn’t listening anymore, the sound of my own beating heart too loud in my ears.

One of his long silver necklaces brushed my shoulder and I shuddered from the cold metal contrasting with my skin.

He reared back with a muttered curse, putting a few feet of distance between us.

His pupils were wide, jaw tensed. He slowly slid his fisted hands in his pockets.

“Alright, what’s your problem?” I asked as I stood up to face him.

Arc’s eyes narrowed and he took on a defensive stance. “I wasn’t aware I had one.”

“You act like I have some kind of disease. Which is ludicrous, as we all know that Immortals don’t get sick.

” His eyes darted away, as if my mere existence was a nuisance.

“If someone here should be upset about anything, it's me. I was manhandled from the moment I stepped through that barrier, my bike was, as far as I know, left behind in the desert, then you proceeded to treat me like I’m some kind of spy sent here to cause trouble, and finally, people keep congratulating me and telling me how grateful I must be to have finally met you when I’ve never even heard of you before.

What is this place, some kind of cult? Am I expected to fawn over you like the rest of this whole camp?

To turn the other cheek every time someone disrespects me because of the kind of demon that I am? Because frankly it’s—”

“Have people other than Carter disrespected you?” he probed, interrupting my monologue.

The cinnamon tamped down and I felt like I could finally breathe. Not that the smell was unpleasant but it made me feel…weird. Dizzy. Like it was trying to tell me something that my nose couldn’t understand.

The scent was slowly replaced by a sizzling fire in a rainy forest…Embers. The return of the mist…

“I wouldn’t say most people have been exactly kind, including you. Most of the guards yesterday said nothing, while Carter—”

“I know, and that’s why they’re facing the consequences of their non-actions today. And for the foreseeable future,” he revealed, his jaw set in a hard line, eyes lost somewhere and gleaming with anger.

“What do you mean?”

“They’re guards. Their job is to protect the people that live here. They failed.”

“I didn’t live here yet.” And I really hoped that those consequences didn’t involve torture or death. That would be a little much for what was left of my conscience.

“Oh, but you did. I prepared your file the night before. We were expecting your arrival. You were already an official resident.”

My crossed arms tightened around me as anger flared. Right . His visions or whatever.

“They were expecting me,” I echoed. “Then why—”

“Your eyes,” he explained, his voice lower. He took a step forward, forgetting about that imaginary disease he probably thought I had. “I saw blue eyes. It’s my fault, really. I should have known better.”

“What about my eyes? I—”

“We were not expecting you to be a demon, and I think that’s why Carter was upset and Arc was a little suspicious of you,” Kai had said.

“Oh.” My eyes. Blue eyes. Blue that were usually only seen on Divines.

He released a long, exhausted breath. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Carter wouldn’t have acted like he did if I didn’t.”

“But why did it make him so mad? I don’t get it.” His eyes narrowed in confusion. “I haven’t been here long, but it doesn’t seem like the cohabitation between Divines and Hellrisers is a problem here. I don’t understand why he would be mad about me being—”

“Fuck,” he mumbled, turning around to bury his face in his hands. “You don’t know. Of course you don’t know.”

The room was silent. My face wasn’t even a foot away from his back. All of his different scents mixing together. If I closed my eyes, I could feel like I was drinking a sweet cinnamon coffee next to a small fire on a fall morning.

“I don’t know?”

He ignored me, and I wanted to pry but the smell made me feel warm. Made me want to nuzzle my face in it.

“Your scent confuses me,” I groaned, catching myself as I wanted to step closer. “You’re…what the hell are you?”

He didn’t turn back to face me right away, letting the words linger and the silence stretch.

When he did, his face was once again a mask of carefully controlled emotions.

“My mother was an Archangel,” he admitted darkly.

I sighed in relief. He was some kind of Nephilim, then. The result of a Divine or Hellriser breeding a human. It was short-lived when my eyes latched on his ear, peeking out from the dark hair.

“But your ears…they—”

“My father was a Prince of Hell who decided that he didn’t care about Lucifer’s rules and overstayed his welcome on earth,” he continued, his voice somber and raw with resentment.

“Long enough to somehow meet and seduce an Archangel. Long enough for me to be born and already hidden away when he and my mother were said to have been caught and punished.”

The blood froze in my veins.

Princes of Hell were bound to hell. They were allowed to leave only for a few days every decade. Usually breeding humans and creating Nephilims in the process…

But an Archangel? Creating a…an unimaginable hybrid? I didn’t even know it was possible.

“No one did,” he sighed, answering what was obviously a thought spoken out loud.

“I don’t belong to any species as I’m the only one of my kind.

I was never supposed to exist. If, by any weird circumstance, any Divine and Hellriser decide to breed children, the result usually is a stillborn at worst, a Nephilim at best. No one knows how or why I am what I am. ”

I nodded absentmindedly, not breaking eye contact. It made sense. The mismatched eyes, overwhelming presence and aura. Like his body and soul were not sure what to do with his genes. Giving him a hypnotizingly perfect appearance but unable to make a side more important than the other.

“I’ve answered your question,” he rasped, his voice surprisingly soft. We were so close now that his breath brushed over the skin of my face. When did we get even closer? “Will you answer one of mine?”

“Do answers have a price here?”

“They don’t,” he whispered. “I’d like to ask something anyway.”

The sweetness of cinnamon came back, enveloping me. Even if I knew what he was now, it didn’t help with how confusing his scent was.

I gave him a slow nod.

My eyes landed on his lips as they opened only to close. Once. Twice. He pinched them into a thin line.

Why were they so enticing?

Another wave of dizziness made me reach forward and grip his shirt to ground myself. His arm snapped around my waist, the look on his face turning to worry.

“Are you—”

“I’m fine,” I lied. I’d have to go out and find someone tonight. It was only a matter of hours before my pheromones would get out of control. “You had a question.”

Neither of us let go. I gripped the soft fabric of his shirt like my life depended on it and his arm was a band of steel around me, his hand warm on my side.

“Why do you hide your ears?”