Page 2 of Tortured Soul (Soulless #1)

Lola

I turned off the engine of my bike and looked around.

That couldn’t be here. There was nothing. Just a wide plane of cracked dry land, surrounded by an old forest turned to stone.

And that heat? No way people were actually living here. I could barely breathe and was sweating my ass off in my riding leathers.

What a stupid idea to set up a camp in the deserted state of Arizona. That place had been abandoned for a reason after the war.

Through the tinted visor of my helmet, I squinted at my phone and the GPS again.

It should be here.

I started the heavy bike again, its sound loud in the overwhelming silence surrounding me, and searched farther, riding in circles, but the only visible things were small human cabins scattered at the edge of the creepy forest.

I should have kept my traveling appearance, or at least shortened my long blonde hair, as it was currently uncomfortably tucked in my helmet, but my energy was depleting and I wasn’t sure when I'd be able to lure a new unfortunate soul into my bed. I’d rather not be stuck in an unfamiliar form after I got so used to my current one.

And because of that, I was literally being boiled alive.

And that damned camp was nowhere to be found.

What if Lucifer deliberately sent me on a wrong path? After all, I did decide to leave and these kinds of petty reactions wouldn’t be surprising for our kind.

I stopped again after a few minutes, unbuckling my helmet with frustration, only to let it fall to the ground as I got off the too-large bike. I automatically started pacing .

There was no way I’d done all this for nothing. I’d been traveling for a whole week, fought off two separate attacks, taking the long way around to make sure I wasn’t followed, sleeping in crappy motels, barely eating any food.

I could kill for a fucking coffee.

My hands fumbled with the zipper of my leather jacket before I finally took it off and threw it on the floor, leaving me in my white tank top and leather pants.

I brought my hands to my head, fingers pulling at the strands of hair.

I couldn’t go back now, it would take too long to return to the nearest town.

If I didn’t find living beings in the next few days, I was going to get weaker and weaker, until I could barely think and function properly, which would push me into a frenzy and likely get me captured.

Finding this sanctuary wasn’t an option anymore.

I kicked my helmet with a frustrated scream, sending it flying forward, bouncing a couple of times off the dry dirt before it— disappeared ?

Wait, what?

I frowned, taking a couple of steps toward it but my body froze uncontrollably before I could reach the last bump on the floor, where the helmet last bounced before vanishing.

Something didn’t feel right. I shouldn’t go farther …I didn’t belong here, and I should be headed back wherever I came from. There was…nothing. Nothing for me here.

I turned around and froze again.

What had just happened? Where was my helmet? Why was my head buzzing like I’ve been using my powers for a few days but I hadn’t. Like it was…depleting even more, getting drained from me.

Bounces. Once, twice. Disappears.

I turned abruptly to look at the mark on the ground. I kicked my helmet. And it vanished.

A barrier.

Of course, a sanctuary like this one would be hidden behind a barrier. Apparently a Divine one, pushing non-angelic blood away.

I lifted my arm in front of me until the air around my hand felt different. Like plunging in cool water, pebbles and sand floating around, grazing my skin.

With just another step, my whole arm passed through. It was still visible, but my hand was getting blurry.

After a deep breath, I walked through it, ignoring the voices whispering to me to turn away, back where I came from.

Nothing here. There’s nothing here. Nothing to see, nothing to hear .

I closed my eyes and walked. I walked until the pressure around me changed back to normal air, until the feeling of smooth rocks and dry sand stopped whipping at my face and bare arms, and I collided with something hard. Someone .

There was no time for me to rub my nose from the slight pain or open my eyes before a thick fabric covered my whole head and hands were holding my arms behind my back, restraining me.

“What the—”

“Don’t fight and you might live.”

No matter that my face was probably covered by some kind of cheap and scratchy pillowcase, my brows pulled down in a frown. “What a dumb punchline to throw at an Immortal.”

Was fighting worth it? I mean, the man was clearly not alone here, and although I’ve been trained to fight and defend myself, the little voice in the back of my head that served as my survival instinct was unusually quiet.

It didn’t feel like I was in danger as of right now. At least as long as I listened to the one who told me not to fight.

So when a hand pushed me roughly between my shoulderblades and made me stumble forward, I grunted but did not retaliate.

As soon as I heard the footsteps that escorted me, I was glad I made that choice. Surrounding me and walking in front, next, and behind me, were at least ten beings. Immortal beings.

I was outnumbered. Following the man’s order was the smart move. I could still try to fight my way out another time.

Other than our heavy footsteps, there was no other sound. I wasn’t sure how long we walked under the scorching heat, but my head pounded and my legs felt sore after riding for a few hours.

“I have no idea who you are and why you’re treating me like shit, but is all this really necessary?” I asked.

No one answered. Great . If there was one thing I was praised for— sort of —was my ability to piss people off.

“I mean, is that a way to welcome friendly visitors? I rode days to reach this Hell hole, you could at least offer me a coffee.”

I heard a grunt from the man holding my arms at my back, nothing for the eight to twelve other pairs of footsteps. I held a cough when the wind blew dry hot sand under the pillowcase and against my face.

“Your little welcome committee is lacking serious manners if you ask me,” I taunted, blinking to try and get rid of the sand in my eyes. “I could help you improve that. I mean, it could hardly get any worse —” I mumbled. “I’ve been told in the past that I’m an exceptional—”

“Will you shut up already?” The man behind me sounded anything but amused as I smiled. Finally some kind of reaction.

“Oh, so it talks ,” I crooned. “Good, so where are we on the coffee? Don’t worry, I’m not difficult. Black, no sugar, no milk. I’ll even accept one of those little freeze-dried instant… thingys . Won’t enjoy it, but I guess the gesture matters more than the taste.”

He wasn’t the only one to curse under his breath. We’re getting there , I thought. Maybe if I was annoying enough, they’d let me go. Where to? No idea. But I wasn’t a fan of the rough treatment outside of the bedroom, and only on my terms.

I kept quiet for a little while, focusing on the people surrounding me. Their scent. Their aura. Their emotions.

Like I thought, they were definitely all Immortal. Humans gave off a different kind of energy and I could sense them as easily as a fresh pizza in the middle of the desert. They stood out. They smelled like repressed sins and misplaced arrogance. Like easy prey.

The people escorting me? Both women and men, Hellrisers and Divines, not to forget a few Earthwalkers.

What a cute and eclectic little party. If my eyes weren’t so dry because of the damn sand, I could almost cry.

“You’ve noticed I’m not fighting back, right? Don’t you think you could ease up a little?” I asked the Divine holding me. “My shoulders hurt.”

His hold tightened. “Look how I care,” he spat in my ear.

Fucking Divine men .

I stopped abruptly, stumbling only a little when his front collided with my back. Using the momentum, I arched against him, pressing my ass against his crotch. If asking nicely wasn’t doing it for him, I’d make him release me .

“Please continue, I love how dirty you speak to me,” I teased.

His hands let go of my arms abruptly as if our sudden contact burned him. He pushed me forward and I landed on my knees on the dry land. A sharp pain traveled up my legs as I bit on a cry.

Fucker.

“Rough much? And here I was, thinking you were probably just a boring fuck,” I panted, hiding the pain with a breathless chuckle.

“Don’t play games,” he groaned, kicking me in the ribs. He somehow managed to grab my hair through the thick pillowcase and lifted me up. I wouldn’t scream. Wouldn’t show my pain. “We don’t trust your kind here. You’re nothing but Lucifer’s bitch.”

“I usually like to know someone’s name before they start calling me one.” I choked on a breath at the sharp sting on my scalp.

He pushed me back on the floor with a disgusted grunt. I wished I could go back to kick Lucifer’s ass for sending me here.

“Stand down, Carter,” someone else said. “Know your place.”

“Yeah,” I wheezed. “Know your place, Carter.”

“For fuck’s sakes,” the other guy mumbled.

As I heaved on the floor, I’m almost certain I was about one second away from a kick in the face. Hurried footsteps sent sand and dirt flying, sticking to the damp skin of my naked arms, getting under the pillowcase, in my mouth, my throat, my eyes.

The tumble stopped and people grunted and cursed at each other.

Discord. Chaos.

I smiled through the pain.

“Stand up, Succubus. We’re losing daylight here.”

The voice was low and rough, but softer than the Divine who was manhandling me a minute ago. One of the two Hellriser men. A demon. My kind of people.

I managed to get up on wobbly legs and started walking when he placed a hand between my shoulderblades. My arms were free, falling on my sides, hands fisted against my thighs.

“Here I thought chivalry was dead,” I said. “Thank you for—”

“Don’t push your luck,” he cut me off flatly. “Carter might not be above all, but he’s a hothead. If you go too far, the only one who’ll be able to stop him isn’t here with us.”

Divines and their enormous egos. I sometimes missed the time where they stayed among themselves, no matter how hard both our kind fought each other. We were never meant to get along and live in harmony.

Humans unfortunately changed all that with the war over fifty years ago.

Which led me here, manhandled by a Divine scumbag, walking my ass off under the scorching desert heat. My bike, helmet, and leather jacket were left who knows where, and I was still waiting for a damn coffee.

It’s been barely a week, and so far, freedom sucks.