Her Soul to Take: Chapter 21

It was nothing short of torture to get through the rest of the day. I already hadn’t been in the headspace to concentrate, but Leon had shattered my brain into pieces and I likely looked like a zombie through my next two classes. I kept expecting him to pop up again and make good on those filthy threats, but when I left campus and he still hadn’t made an appearance, I had to accept that he’d meant it.

He wanted me to suffer. He was probably watching me from somewhere, laughing and jacking off like the absolute pervy dick that he was. He’d even managed to stop me from getting my video ready to be uploaded, which was probably his plan all along.

But his dirty-talk distraction wasn’t going to convince me to go along with his little bargain.

Pulling up in front of my house in the dark brought a sobering dose of reality. I parked close to the porch, but I still sat there for a minute, the engine turned off, staring into the shadows under the trees. My porch light had popped on from the movement of my car, but the light didn’t go far. If a monster was lurking in those trees, waiting, I had no way of knowing.

I exited the car and pressed the door closed as softly as I could. My body said run, my brain said no sudden moves. My keys jangled as I pulled them out at the door, my heart pounding so hard it hurt. The night air was cold. In the corner of my eye, the darkness pressed close as the trees slowly creaked.

I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until I was inside. I locked the deadbolt, staring out through the glass door at the yard as Cheesecake mewled hungrily around my feet. Never in my life had I been scared of the dark, but now the thought of what could hide within it almost made me feel sick. At least tonight, as I slowly scanned the yard, nothing was there.

Until my eyes reached the porch, and there, just off the side, beneath the railing, a skeletal canine head with a gaping mouth stared back at me.

I flung the curtain closed so fast that Cheesecake sprinted away in alarm. I backed away from the door, hands pressed over my mouth to hold back the scream that desperately wanted to come out. The porch creaked, and there came the slow scratch of claws on the wood.

The morbid stench of rot seeped into the house. It was sniffing at the door, its breathing rough. I was backed into the living room, torn between running into the kitchen for a knife or barricading myself in the bathroom.

I’d seen one of those things fight. If it wanted to break through the glass, it could do it easily.

A sharp cry, like a fox screaming, made me jump and nearly trip backward onto the couch. It was so loud, but somewhat muffled, as if its mouth was pressed right up against the door. Softer, as if it was distant, a longer cry answered.

Then another.

And another…

Until it was a cacophony of howling screams in the night.

My limbs were locked up with fear. It was calling the others. It knew I was in here. They all knew.

I had to call the cops. I had to get a weapon. I had to —

There was a hoarse growl, a bang and rapid shuffling. Then…silence. Utter silence.

A minute passed, and then came the slow thump, thump, thump of footsteps across the deck. They creaked on the top step, then came the crunch of dirt.

The footsteps were gone. The night was silent. After another minute, I heard the crickets begin to chirp again.

Leon had been watching after all.

I slept horrible that night. I used up the rest of my cinnamon and rosemary, leaving it to smolder in a bowl just inside the door because I was too terrified to unlock it. At least it made the house smell good. In the morning, I chugged down two ibuprofens with my coffee and got to work, editing my footage. Leon had arrived just in time the night before, but I couldn’t depend on a demon to keep saving me. I had to get this evidence out to people who could help me, and fast.

I got a text from Victoria just after my second cup of coffee, inviting me over for a study session. I had homework due on Monday, but I honestly couldn’t find it in me to care. I’d probably end up doing everything Sunday night in a frantic attempt to finish on time. I turned her down, and almost immediately got another text, this time from a number I hadn’t saved.

I know you turned down V, but maybe you’ll study with me instead? 😉

I had an idea, but I asked anyway: Who is this?

Jeremiah

Sorry, lol

Might’ve snagged your number when you gave it to my sister.

I rolled my eyes. I knew it. It’s not like I’d told him he couldn’t have my number, but this felt like he was pushing to see where my boundaries were. Why did he even know I’d turned down Victoria’s invitation?

Despite my determination not to believe Leon’s wild stories about the Hadleighs being members of some cult, a little red flag of suspicion was waving in my mind. They weren’t cult members (as if!) but Jeremiah was still giving me some weird vibes.

Well, like I told Victoria, I already have plans today

His response was a sad face. Aww, plans without me? I want an invite next time!

I put down my phone. I didn’t have time to deal with another cocky boy, I had monsters to worry about. I started another pot of coffee, then jogged upstairs to change out of my pajamas.

I had just slipped into some loungewear when I heard something bang against the side of the house. Cold dread washed over me, and Cheesecake scrambled up to hide under my bed. The sounds were coming from the wall near the firewood pile; it sounded as if something was rummaging through the logs.

Leon had made it sound as if those things only came out at night. I had no more herbs to burn. I didn’t think there was anywhere in the house I could barricade myself that a monster wouldn’t be able to break into.

Maybe they were weaker during the day. Maybe I shouldn’t hide this time.

I grabbed my knife, and then my baseball bat from where I had it stashed near the front door. Between stabbing and bashing, I figured I could take down one of those monsters. It had been about five years since I’d last played softball, but my swing was still in good shape.

No hiding in fear this time. I wasn’t helpless. These monsters needed to learn not to fuck with Raelynn Lawson.

I crept out of the house. The day was cool and gray, birds singing in the trees. There were deep scratches in the wood just outside my door, and I remembered the huge claws on the monster in the chapel. I’d have to move fast, bash it to a pulp before it could slash me.

I held the bat high as I neared the corner of the house, gripping the handle of the knife in my teeth so I could use both hands to swing. My heart was in my throat. This was madness. I should have stayed inside. Who the hell did I think I was, Van Helsing? I was a paranormal investigator, not a monster hunter!

As I stepped around the corner, the monster was coming the opposite direction. I flailed as it loomed in front of me, swinging the bat down with a scream.

The bat made contact, but it didn’t hit a monster.

Instead, it was caught and gripped solidly in one of Leon’s massive hands.

“Oh…oh my God…” The knife fell to the ground as my mouth hung open in horror. Leon was stone-faced, staring at the baseball bat gripped in his fingers, inches from his head. He’d dropped several long pieces of wood in order to catch it. Mouth twisting sourly, he glanced down at the dropped knife, then back to the bat, then to me.

And he began to chuckle, the laughter of a man who’d just caught someone doing something very, very naughty.

“You are the maddest woman I’ve ever met.” He jerked the bat out of my grasp and tossed it down among the wood pile beside him, but he’d dropped something from his opposite hand as he did so. I looked down at the thump, and nearly screamed again.

“What the hell, Leon?” I backed away from the pile of heads he’d dropped to the ground. Heads — the severed, skeletal heads of three Eld beasts rolled in the dirt. I backed away in disgust as he glared.

“Fucking hell, you need all the help you can get. A knife. A fucking baseball bat.” He snorted, grumbling to himself as I tentatively bent down and snatched up the knife. He collected the heads from the ground, holding them by the bits of scraggly fur and long hair clumped on them, and the pieces of wood he’d collected as well. He brushed past me, toward the front yard, a slight limp in his right leg.

I trotted after him.

“What are you doing?” He’d gone to the edge of the trees near my front driveway, dropped the heads again, and was lining up one of the long pieces of wood he carried with the ground. He was dressed in a black t-shirt and tight jeans, and his hair was disheveled and sported faint streaks of darkened blood. “What happened last night? Did you kill all of them?”

The questions tumbled out of me. The relief I’d felt when seeing him — a monster that wanted to fuck me, not a monster that wanted to kill me — had brought all my energy back.

“Did you kill all of them?” he mocked, and I folded my arms in irritation at how high-pitched he made my voice. “No, I didn’t kill all of them. I led them away, Raelynn, and killed what I could. You expect me to kill every bloody Eld in Abelaum?” He snorted again. “Kill this for me, Leon — kill that for me, Leon — do you have any idea how goddamn tired I am of you humans expecting me to just kill everything for you?”

He was in a far worse mood than the last time I’d seen him. Probably something to do with that limp, if I had to guess. I shrunk at his irritation, but gave a little shrug. “You snap bones with your bare hands. You’re the strongest person, er, strongest…” He gave me a slow, exasperated look. “You’re the strongest being I’ve ever met, okay? I figured you could kill anything.”

“Almost,” he said softly. With a sudden violent jolt, he jammed the wood into the ground with his bare hands, the narrower end sinking into the damp earth and standing upright. He picked up one of the severed heads and speared it down on top of the wood. I stared at it in horror as black goop oozed down the stake.

“Leon, what…what are you doing?”

“Warning off the other Eld,” he muttered. He collected the other two heads and stalked off again, moving along the trees until he found the next spot he approved of and lined up another stake. I followed tenderly, my feet bare since I hadn’t had the sense to put on shoes before I went outside to fight monsters. I lingered beside him, trying not to stare at the heads.

“Their skulls are the only part of them that don’t rapidly decay,” he said, spearing the ground again. “Keeping them around can make the others a little less eager to come into yard.”

I winced in disgust as he mounted the next skull on the stake. The once-white eyes in the skeletal sockets had shriveled and blackened like old grapes. Absolutely disgusting.

“I can’t just keep severed heads around my yard,” I said.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Leon turned to face me. “Do they not fit your aesthetic? Would death suit your aesthetic better?” He paused, giving me a long look up and down. His eyes lingered on my neck, on the numerous hickeys he’d left there, and he grinned sadistically. “Red and purple suits you well.”

My cheeks heated as I rubbed my neck. Every day since our tryst in the graveyard, I’d felt giddy pleasure at the sight of those marks. They represented the ecstasy of the pain I’d endured. They were a scarlet letter, branding me as wicked, lustful girl.

“I should turn your ass the same colors for all the trouble you’ve caused me,” Leon grumbled, and I sputtered in protest. “Losing the goddamn grimoire…you should have given it back to me to begin with, in St. Thaddeus. Now I have to run all over the Pacific Northwest to track the thing down.”

“God, you’re an even bigger asshole than usual today.” I folded my arms. Like clockwork, my raging horniness at his threats flared up again. If spanking me would make him feel better, damn, he could go for it.

As I’ve said: self-preservation, I have none.

As I kept following him, I began to realize just how tired he looked. His hands were filthy, there was a tear in the back of his shirt, dirt smudged along his neck and in his disheveled blood-stained hair, and there was a faint, dirty, red gash peeking over the top of his t-shirt from his shoulder. I gulped, remembering the oozing blood from a couple nights past. “Are you hungry? Do you need a snack or something? Will that calm you down?”

He only grunted as he chose the next spot to display my morbid protection charm.

“Why did you come back here, Leon?” I said, as he mounted the last head and ran his filthy hand through his hair. “I don’t have the grimoire — and I’m not giving you my soul.” His eyes flashed as he glared at me. “So why did you bother to come?”

“…wasting time,” he muttered. He shoved his hands in his pockets, looking at me as if he wanted to say more, his lips pressed into a thin, hard line.

I stepped closer, closing the gap between us. He didn’t smell sweaty, like I would expect from a man who’d been running through the forest all night. Instead, he still smelled faintly of wood smoke and lemon, the kind of comforting smells that made me want to get close and close my eyes.

I reached for the neckline of his shirt, and he didn’t move a muscle. I pulled it down, carefully, revealing the rest of the red, angry mark I could see on his throat. But it was so much worse than merely a mark. A jagged, open wound ran down his chest. The skin was torn open, the wound deep, ripped through his tattoos. It was darkened with dirt, reddened, and puffy. My eyes widened as I stared.

“Leon…”

“It will heal,” he said firmly. “The beasts cut deep. I was trying to be careful…” His voice lowered, almost imperceptible as he said, “Didn’t…didn’t want to hurt the cat.”

“And you’re limping.” I frowned. “You’re hurt, Leon.”

He cleared his throat and took a step back, tugging my hand from his shirt. “It’s nothing. I’ve had worse.”

But it wasn’t nothing. It was a wound he’d sustained while trying to protect me, while trying to protect Cheesecake. He’d let himself get hurt rather than risk injuring the animal I loved. He could have let Cheesecake die, and abandoned me to the same fate.

But he hadn’t.

Why the hell did this demon care if I died?

“It’s filthy,” I said. “It’ll get infected…”

“Demons heal far better than humans do. It’s fine.”

“Come inside.” I motioned toward the house. “Let me clean it.”

He blinked rapidly. It was subtle, but as he looked between me and the cabin, he actually looked confused. “Inside?”

“Yes. Come inside. Get a shower. Let me clean it at least.” I motioned to him, trying to urge him to follow me like a lost dog. “Just…come. Please. Let me help you.”