Captive Soul Read online

  Hacen blinked and stopped pacing. Then he smiled as if the situation they were in wasn't dire at all. Jules returned the smile.

  “I can’t hold the dome forever.” Tommy’s serious tone brought them both back to reality.

  The scar dissecting Hacen’s left eyebrow looked menacing. "Do you know where Nicolono is holding your sister?"

  The redhead shook his head. "He hides with magic. I'm not sure how he's doing it so I can't break it."

  "We go along until we find out. Unless one of you has a better idea."

  Go along? But that implied they’d have to leave Jules.

  He tightened his hold on Tommy, his body shaking as the full measure of his fate took hold. "Please. I'll do anything you guys say. I promise. Don’t leave me here with him."

  "My sister is only twelve years old, Jules. I have to save her. I'm sorry. We won't leave you for long."

  "Don't make promises to him you can't keep, Tommy."

  Jules turned to Hacen. He grabbed Hacen's sports jacket, balling his fist around the lapel. "I won’t cause any problems, and I’ll stay quiet. Please.”

  He was supposed to be in the apartment above the bar he cleaned. It wasn't a great job, and maybe he didn't have much, but what he did have was his. He might not have a lot of friends and no family to speak of since his grandma passed away, but he still had a life. He was supposed to be back to his boring life, not a captive to some sick psycho. How did Hacen and Thomas not understand that?

  Hacen's eyes turned blue.

  Jules, not knowing what that meant, let him go. He took a step back, away from the fangs. He held up his hands in an attempt to placate. "Okay. Then I’ll never bother you again. I won't tell anyone anything. I swear. Just don’t leave me with him.”

  He expected a slap or rough treatment. Instead, Hacen cupped his cheek. "Get Nicolono to tell you where Tommy’s sister is. We'll all get out of here together after that."

  Jules swallowed down the lump in his throat, realizing Hacen wouldn’t help. He jerked away from the touch and averted his gaze. A lump formed in his throat. He tried to swallow it down but couldn’t. A sob escaped, but still, the tears remained elusive.

  "She didn't do anything to deserve to be locked up." Tommy wrapped an arm around his waist, trying to pull him close but he resisted. He couldn’t handle their soothing touches when he knew they’d leave him to face Mr. Evil’s cruelty alone.

  "Neither did I." Jules would do what he had to do to help the girl because he understood better than anyone how it felt to be someone’s prisoner. He wouldn’t do it for Hacen or Tommy, though. He’d do it because Tommy was right. She was just a child. Jules had to sacrifice to make her safe.

  "Baby.” Tommy tried again to touch him.

  Jules shook his head. “Don’t.” They had to know Jules would take the brunt of the punishment when the dome came down. If luck were on his side, Mr. Evil would drain him right away, and it would all be over quickly. “Just take it down.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Jules took a deep breath, straightening until his spine became steel. He raised his gaze to Tommy. “I’m ready.”

  Tears clung to Tommy’s lashes. He shook his head as if silently denying what he knew was about to happen. He waved his hand in a circle, and the dark dome disappeared.

  As soon as Jules became accessible, Mr. Evil grabbed him, wrapping his hair in a fist and pulling him forward. Jules stumbled and fell to his knees. Some of the captive strands gave way. The pain was too much, and Jules cried out, instinctively reaching above him, for the hand on his hair, in an attempt to relieve the painful hold.

  Hacen growled. The floorboards squeaked as if he took a step in their direction.

  "It's not your concern, Hacen.” Mr. Evil yanked up until Jules had no choice but to stand. As soon as Jules was on his feet, Mr. Evil’s free fist connected with Jules’ stomach. The pain stole his breath as his legs gave out. His knees hit the wooden floor hard. But that was secondary to the fight for oxygen.

  Mr. Evil pulled up again before Jules recovered. Jules sounded like a man drowning in the deepest ocean, even to his own ears. When Mr. Evil spoke, the words seemed as if he spoke through a tunnel. "They'll bond with each other and leave you out.”

  Jules’ eyes darkened around the edges.

  "Bond with Thomas.” Mr. Evil lifted Jules until he stood straight. With his free hand, he scored the flesh on Jules’ back. Jules arched against the pain. The oxygen, which had been so elusive up to then, entered his lungs in one big whoosh. So did his consciousness. The colors of the room came back to him in stark relief. “Do it, or I’ll shred him.”

  The next few minutes would be far more painful than any physical abuse he’d suffered so far. Jules knew it even before Mr. Evil turned him to face Hacen and Tommy. “Watch.”

  Part One:

  Before the battle at Saint Lakes

  Chapter One

  Jules Somerset stopped with his hand on the Saint Lakes Diner door. He sniffed as if he were one of his shifter siblings. He didn’t need their superior senses to recognize the lavender and burning wax deliciousness that entered his soul. He rubbed at the sudden ache in his chest and closed his eyes.

  Their scents followed him around like candle smoke. He couldn’t get away from them, and he wanted to. By the gods, how he wished for them to leave him alone. And yet the longing burned down to his gut.

  The desire hit him even harder when the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. The feeling of being watched wrecked him in familiar ways. It took him back into his past, until a familiar level of panic blossomed in his chest. It tightened like a fist around his lungs and squeezed.

  He let go of the door handle when someone from inside stood in front of it. They had an irritated look on their face, which didn’t do anything to help Jules fight the panic attack. When he stepped to the side, they exited without giving him a cursory glance.

  The attacks were as familiar as a best friend. One that was narcissistic and persistent with its selfish agenda, but he still maintained a friendship with panic that would likely never fully die.

  If Dr. Tucker were standing next to him, he’d tell Jules he had all the resources needed to push the panic down. He leaned against the blue windbreaker surrounded the front of the diner, letting his backpack fall from his shoulder to the wet sidewalk.

  He breathed as deeply as he could through his nose letting it out through his mouth, repeating the process.

  He whispered the thing Dr. Tucker had told him to say to himself. Dr. Tucker called it an internal dialog, but Jules found it helpful to say the words aloud. “I have a family who loves me. I’m a Somerset now. Above all this panic attack bullshit.” That last sentence he added himself. One day it would be true but only if he said it often enough. “I’m not alone. My past has meaning because I’ve learned from it. No one has power over me because I refuse to give it to them. I am—”

  The bell above the diner door dinged open, and Sage stuck his head out. “You okay?”

  “…strong.” Jules opened his eyes, nodding his head even as he smiled at Sage. “Yeah.”

  He took one more deep breath, picked up his backpack, and moved toward the door. Sage stepped back, allowing him to enter.

  “Panic attack?” Sage asked as Jules brushed by him.

  “Yeah. Tommy and Hacen are following me again.”

  Sage let the door go, making his way behind the long counter that covered the entire left side of the restaurant. The diner perpetually smelled like coffee and french fries. It didn’t matter if they were serving breakfast or dinner either. “Maybe it’s time you talk to them.”

  Jules set his backpack at his feet and sat on one of the stools. “Maybe it’s time they take no for an answer.”

  Sage flipped the coffee cup over before grabbing the canister off the burner. The brown liquid swirled against the sides when lifted. He poured some into the white mug before laying a packet of raw cane sugar and two small tubs of vanilla creamer
on the counter beside the mug.

  Jules leaned down until his nose was inches from the steaming liquid. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Yay.”

  Sage chuckled. “Andrea bought that creamer especially for you. She even told me not to give it out to anyone else.” Andrea was Sage’s boss and the owner of the diner.

  “Is she here today?”

  “Not until eleven, I think. Want me to send her over when she comes in?” Sage filled someone else’s cup before putting the canister down.

  Jules nodded.

  Jules worked for Sage’s mate, Garridan, who had a woodworking business next door from the diner. Jules’ official title was receptionist, but he ran the website as that generated more business than walk-ins did. Jules had a knack for showcasing individual pieces in the best possible light and took most of the pictures himself.

  Both businesses were part of a shopping center. The building was in the shape of an L with the only grocery store in the small town. The diner sat in the corner and Garridan’s shop next to that. There was also an insurance place Jules used and a little bait shop he had never entered. The ice cream shop sat in the middle of everything and did a good business, even in the winter time.

  Jules dumped both creamer tubs and the packet of sugar in his coffee and stirred. “Mama wanted me to ask if you’d make your macaroni and cheese for dinner today.”

  “Do you know if I need to stop by the grocery on my way home?”

  “She said no.”

  Sage went into the back after that, leaving Jules to himself, which only gave him time to think. So not something he wanted to do. The only consolation was the patrons filled the diner to capacity. They were all familiar faces, mainly because it was almost spring, but not into it enough for the paranormal tourists to hit their small town.

  From where he sat, each voice was no louder than a murmur, but combined they made a dull roar which he could easily block out. Metal silverware scrapped against porcelain. The grill in the back whispered out a sizzle, and he could hear the tones in Sage’s voice even though the door, separating the diner from the kitchen, remained closed.

  A dark-haired guy sat three stools over with two books and a pile of papers in front of him. He had a pen in his hand and bit the end as he studied one of his books. He was a clan member, but Jules couldn’t remember if he were human or paranormal. He could tell a vampire right off because they had a way of walking that set them apart. It was as if they had a rod in the spine, holding them up. Vampires were the only ones set apart, though. Some of the shifters were obvious because they were gigantic but not all of them. The only warlock Jules had ever met was Tommy and he looked human. It was the same for witches.

  The guys name was Henri, though. Jules remembered that much.

  “Hi.” Jules leaned toward him, afraid his voice wouldn’t carry above the diner sounds.

  Henri met his gaze, putting down the pen. He smiled. “Hello.”

  “My name’s Jules.” He nodded his head to the books. “What are you studying?”

  Henri lifted his dark eyebrows and screwed up his lips. “It’s boring. You sure you want to hear about it?”

  “Will it take longer than fifteen minutes? Because I have to be at work then.”

  Henri grinned. “We’ll go for the short version.”

  Jules smiled and stood from his stool, moving closer to his new friend. He looked at the words on the page of the book and noticed it looked more like a novel rather than the textbook he suspected.

  “Okay, well. I’m researching how widowed women, who married gentlemen in a social class below them, closed the economic gap over a period of time.”

  “Oh.” No way could he hear about that at length. “Why?”

  “Eighteenth century England interests me.”

  “You mean you’re studying that on purpose? For fun?”

  Henri laughed. He had dimples that came out in the corners of his mouth when he laughed that hard. “I know. Weird, right? But it keeps my mind busy, which I need sometimes.”

  “Television does the same thing.”

  Henri shook his head. “I don’t have one. Just lots of books.”

  “Do you have anything on interior design or drawing? I’m interested in both of those things.”

  Henri nodded his head. “It just so happens I went through a faze. I’d be happy to share the books, but only if you let me take you to dinner sometime.” Henri covered Jules’ hand with his own. Henri’s warmth seeped into Jules’ skin until he couldn’t take the contact any longer. He snatched his hand away as if Henri bit him.

  His mouth ran faster than his brain. “I think you got the wrong idea. I have mates. It’s complicated…I just can’t. Not yet. Maybe not ever.”

  Henri held his hands up. “My apologies.” He smiled. “For the record, you didn’t come off as wanting anything more than friendship. I just find you attractive. But I’ll accept your extension of friendship.”

  Jules smiled, trying to keep the weariness out of his gaze. “Great.” He stood, leaving his barely sipped on cup of coffee on the counter. He grabbed his backpack from his former perch even as he headed out the door. “I gotta go.”

  By the gods, when did he become uncomfortable with a guy coming on to him? He might not have a lot of experience but that didn’t have anything to do with guys not finding him attractive.

  And Henri was a hot guy too. And smart, which could be kinda cool as long as he didn’t talk about wealthy women and their second husbands for any extended period.

  Jules sat at a table in the corner of Garridan’s shop. He loved being in the big dragon shifter’s space, not only because he felt protected around Garridan but also because the whole place smelled like sawdust and lemon furniture polish.

  Jules had his phone in one hand and his pencil in the other. His drawing pad lay in front of him with a half-drawn shape on it. He placed his pencil on the table and his phone beside it when the bell above the door rang. He smiled at the familiar face and stood from his seat. “I knew you’d be back for that stool, Mr. Guthrie.”

  Mr. Guthrie had a head full of hair so blond it was nearly white and didn’t look much older than Jules. Jules knew he was well into his hundreds, though. The lack of showing a shifters real age was difficult to get used to and probably always would be no matter how long he was part of the clan.

  Mr. Guthrie had been with his mate, Jonathan, for a long time. Both were cat shifters. Mr. Guthrie was a mountain lion and Jonathan was a bobcat.

  “I am here for that, as well, but Jonathan wanted me to invite you to dinner on Saturday. You haven’t been in a month. You’re overdue, boy.”

  Jules smiled. “I’d love you. How are things?”

  “Oh, fine. Fine. We’re going on a vacation when the weather turns. Tourists in Saint Lakes irritate me. They take over everything.”

  Jules chuckled. “They are the one of the best things about summer.”

  “Ha. They clog up our town.” Mr. Guthrie leaned into Jules as if he had a secret and they weren’t the only ones in the room. “Does Garridan have anything new?”

  “It just so happens he has a picnic table that would look perfect in your garden.” Jules threaded his arm through Mr. Guthrie’s and walked him into the back room.

  Garridan ran his hands across the top of a table with one hand. He held a piece of sandpaper in the other. When he saw Mr. Guthrie, Garridan gave one of his rare smiles. “Picnic table.”

  “Yes. Jules talked me into it.”

  Jules didn’t have to talk him into anything and never did. Mr. Guthrie was their best walk-in customer.

  “It’s right over here.” Mr. Guthrie followed Garridan across the room, which left Jules standing there, so he went back to the front again.

  By the time Mr. Guthrie came back out, he had bought three more things. Garridan stood next to Jules as he rang up the purchases. Mr. Guthrie paid and headed for the door. “Saturday?”

  “Tell, Jonathan I’ll be there.”


  When the bell on the door rang out Mr. Guthrie’s departure, Garridan said, “I made an appointment with Dr. Tucker for you.”

  Jules nodded. He needed to go. “It’s that obvious, huh?”

  Garridan turned Jules to face him. His hands were on Jules’ shoulders. “Are you sleeping well? You look tired.”

  “I had nightmares last night.” They were the ones where Mr. Evil turned into a monster and came after him. “I think they might be more than just dreams.”

  “What do you mean?” Garridan’s dark brows drew together.

  Jules shuddered, and his shoulders came up to his ears. “He’s coming for me. I know it.”

  Garridan growled, and his eyes shifted to that of his dragon. “You mean Stavros.”

  Jules nodded. “He’s coming here. To Saint Lakes.” Jules grabbed Garridan’s hand when he shook his head. “He is. I know it. And when he does, I’ll be his prisoner again. I won’t survive the second time around.”

  “Have you told this to anyone else?”

  Jules shrugged. “Dr. Tucker, but he says it’s PTSD or something. He thinks I’m being paranoid. Maybe I am.” Dr. Tucker didn’t understand what it was like with Mr. Evil. He had never been held captive. At least not that Jules had ever heard about and he would have if it had happened. Paranormal town or not, small town gossip was all the same. Garridan knew exactly how Jules felt.

  Their shared experience made it easier for Jules to tell Garridan things.

  “Have you told your mates?”

  Jules shook his head. “I’m not telling my stalkers anything.” They lurked around Saint Lakes like menacing shadows. Jules didn’t know if he felt terrified of them or annoyed, or a combination of the two.

  “You should explain to Thomas. As a warlock, he’d have a lot of insight into premonitions. He may be able to put your mind at ease as to whether you’re correct or not.”

  “They left me with him.”

  Garridan stood. “You want me to go with you to Dr. Tucker’s office?”

  Jules more than welcomed the change in subject. He smiled and stood. “I’ll be fine on my own. Thanks, though.”