My Soul to Keep Read Free

clenched at the innocent vision.
    She stepped out into the moonlit corridor in a swirl of coppery-sweet blood. The small hand she pressed to the flesh wound did little to mask the aroma. Beneath that scent lurked
her
smell, a whiff of chocolate and mint, testament to her sweet tooth.
    Stepping forward, he moved her fingers asideand examined her arm, gingerly probing the angry slash. “We should take care of this.”
    â€œWhat if I don’t transition, Jonah?” she whispered, her voice a desperate rush, as though she feared expressing the possibility aloud. He mulled that over for a moment—Sorcha, human. Forever. A part of him wished for that. Wished she’d never be like him. Never know the dark animal that stirred beneath the surface.
    â€œHe’ll kill me,” she stated. Her dark eyes glanced nervously down the corridor, as though she expected her father to appear and finish her off.
    â€œHe won’t. I won’t let that happen.” Jonah held her gaze, staring intensely at her, hoping to convey his determination to keep her safe. “Do you believe me?”
    â€œOkay.” She nodded slowly, the fear ebbing from her eyes, giving way to the hero worship he was accustomed to seeing. Before he could stop her, she wrapped her arms around him in a hug, pressing her cheek to his chest. “I wish we could run away, Jonah. Just the two of us.” She breathed the words against him in a small sigh.
    â€œIvo would find us,” he said gently, patting her on the back, knowing he shouldn’t encourage her infatuation with him. She was just a girl, a child he would keep safe, above his own life, if need be.Yet he loathed her fear and would do anything to chase it from her eyes. Even let her pretend he was the hero he wasn’t.
    â€œBut you’ll protect me.”
    â€œAlways. Now let’s go tend to your arm.” Taking her smaller hand in his own, he led her back down the corridor, shivering at what he imagined to be a draft, and wondering if he had just made a promise he had any power to keep. If there was any way to keep either one of them safe.
    Any way to escape the dark world burying them both.

O NE
    T WELVE YEARS LATER …
    Sorcha stared at the street below and felt a lonely chill watching the people flow past like so many fish in a stream. At this hour, they were couples mostly, and groups, out for the evening, heedless of the lightly falling rain. They existed simply, taking their pleasures, living their uncomplicated lives.
    A couple passed directly below, hand in hand, crossing her building’s front door. The woman’s laughter drifted up, curling like sultry smoke on the air. Sorcha followed her brightly bouncing scarf as she faded down the cracked, uneven sidewalk into the water-soaked night.
    Humans had no clue that creatures like Sorcha existed, walked among mankind, observing from the shadows.
    They could never know.
    Strange how life worked. As a girl she’d desperately craved the moment when she would grow upand transition and become like Jonah. So he could finally love her. So her father would approve of her and no longer frighten her.
    Now here she stood, a dovenatu, powerful and strong.
    Alone.
    Rain shivered down the glass surrounding her top-floor loft. She’d bought the building a year ago, shortly after Gervaise’s death. It was a world away from the Central Park penthouse she’d shared with her husband. As far as anyone knew, the rundown building was just one of many sandwiched together in the crowded Soho neighborhood.
    No one would ever expect that the wife of the late tycoon Gervaise Laurent lived within its molded brick walls. Precisely why she’d bought it. That and the windows. They gave her a view of the world she could only ever observe from the fringes. Flattening a palm on the cold glass, she exerted the slightest pressure … as though she would break through and leave everything behind. Fly away