Her Soul to Take (Souls Trilogy #1)(17)

“Rae,” her lips curled around my name, like it was something sweet she wanted to eat. “I like that. Somewhere between masculine and feminine.” She set her cards face down on the table, took a deep breath, and pulled the first card.

It depicted a stone tower standing tall among a forest, flames licking from its upper window as storm clouds gathered around it. Everly set the card down carefully and paused.

“Change,” she said softly. “The life you knew, your strong tower, has been dramatically changed. It is no more.” Her lips parted again, only to close without a sound. Whatever she was going to say next, she’d changed her mind.

Well, that felt far more ominous than it should have. I smiled, glancing with a little uncertainty at Victoria, who just shrugged her shoulders and took a long gulp from her “water” bottle.

Everly lay down the next card. It depicted a man lying face down in the snow, his arm outstretched as if he’d been reaching for something. Numerous swords were pierced through his back, pinning him to the ground, blood staining the snow.

Everly said nothing. She wasn’t looking at me anymore, but her eyes kept flickering to the side as if she was looking for someone. She pulled the last card, turned it to set it down —

“Excuse me.” A woman had sidled up behind me, and I jumped at the sound of her voice. “How much do these cost?”

Everly snatched up the cards, smiling brightly as she answered the woman. Victoria hopped down from the table with another sigh.

“Let’s find a bar,” she said, finishing off the last of her Rosé. “I’m starving.”

She led the way as Inaya put her arm around my shoulders and leaned close to whisper in my ear, “Everly is Victoria’s half-sister. Kent had an affair right before Victoria and Jeremiah were conceived. They’re only a few months apart.”

My eyes widened, and I had to resist the urge to glance back. Everly definitely hadn’t inherited the Hadleigh family resemblance, but I could at least understand Victoria’s derision for her a little better, not that the situation was in any way Everly’s fault. Victoria had pulled further ahead, and seemed to have found a bar that was to her liking as she called back to us to hurry up.

But my mind was still on the cards. I didn’t know much about tarot, but I think the last card I’d got a glimpse of would have been fairly obvious to anyone: a skeleton in a black cloak, carrying a large scythe as it rode a white horse across a barren field.

Death.



The bar was bustling with people, but we managed to get a table near the back. Victoria ordered a round of beer and appetizers, insisting she was going to pay for everything. I suddenly got the feeling she had started drinking long before I met up with her that day.

She’d evidently extended an invitation to other friends too, because we’d only been there a few minutes when another group turned up: two women with their boyfriends, and two men who Victoria knew from one of her classes. She quickly clung onto one of them, and before long she was seated on his lap, another round of beers was ordered, and the conversation had grown to such a volume that no one could really tell what was being said, but none of us cared anyway. The bar was filling up, and I was feeling pretty good with two beers warming me and the high energy surrounding me.

I wasn’t sure when he showed up. Maybe he’d been there the whole time and I just hadn’t noticed, but I doubted I could have overlooked him. I glanced across the table, laughing at something Inaya had said, and Leon’s gaze slammed into me, sharp and burning, those pale green eyes holding me captive for only the briefest of moments before snapping away.

Leon was seated in the corner, his back to the wall, leaning back on his barstool with his arms folded and a grin on his face. His arms were bare tonight, allowing me to take a good look at his tattoos. Colorful swaths of ink, like the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, marked him from his wrists to his shoulders. He wore tight black jeans, Converse, and red t-shirt with jagged lettering emblazoned across the front. He wasn’t sitting alone. I could only see his companion’s profile, but where Leon’s tattoos were bright, the other guy’s were dark, shadows and deep details inked across his biceps. Snakebites pierced his lower lip, and a black barbell was studded through his eyebrow above honey brown eyes.

I considered it an unspoken rule of the universe that more than one absurdly hot person couldn’t exist in the same place at the same time, especially not in such close proximity to each other, and to me. But these two — muscular, grinning, dark enough to straddle the fine line between intriguing and terrifying — were not only sitting directly within my line of sight, but they kept looking at me.

Leon was really staring, but his companion was stealing glances too, turning just enough to look at me over his shoulder before turning his attention away again. A blush was rising on my face, and for what? Just because they were looking at me? Or because I’d gotten off to the thought of Leon doing awful things to me, and now I had to sit here with his eyes on me and those thoughts prodding at my brain again?

I tried to ignore them. Leon’s gaze was hot on my skin, as palpable as fingers stroking my flesh. My foot began to tap against the rung of my barstool, and the mozzarella sticks were suddenly too cloying in my mouth.

I didn’t want food. I didn’t want more beer. I wanted to satisfy this insatiable curiosity that kept dragging my eyes back to that evil smirking dude in the corner.