Soul Thief (Dark Souls) Read Free Page A

possessed still lived, which meant he ran the risk of being recruited by the Watchers. The Watchers hunted him because they thought his soul had died the day his uncle snapped his neck, barely five hours after he’d released his birth cry.
    For a Hybrid, death was nothing but a rite of passage. Dying had merely freed Adrian’s soul from his body, allowing the dark energy crouching inside him to spread and take him over. In essence he’d been reborn, stronger, invulnerable and blessed with abilities humans only dreamed of.
    Because he chose to live as an outcast among his race, they called him a Rogue, a loose cannon, a threat to mankind. Adrian simply saw himself as free. He followed no one’s rule. Fought no one’s war. All he wanted was for everyone to leave him the goddamn hell alone.
    No such luck.
    A horde of Kleptopsychs spilled into the subway station, led by none other than his murderous uncle, Kyros. By narrowing his vision, Adrian gazed past wood, brick and mortar to carefully monitor their advance.
    It was obvious that Kyros had latched on to his signature and was steadily closing in on him. Every creature left a signature behind, a unique trail of energy certain gifted individuals could sense and track. Kyros wasn’t as talented a tracker as Adrian, but he was able to read energy patterns, which meant he had the ability to follow his trail.
    Adrian wouldn’t be able to outrun his uncle or his army—wherever he went, they’d tail him. He had no choice. He had to fight his way out. Fortunately, the station was deserted, so their battle wouldn’t draw a crowd. Some things were best kept secret, and their existence was one of them.
    Stepping out of the shadows, Adrian faced his pursuers. “Greetings, Uncle. We really have to stop meeting this way.”
    Calculating interest sparked in Kyros’s pale blue eyes. “There is only one way to put our battle to rest. Come back with me, return to the catacombs. To your family. You know that is where you belong.”
    “No, thanks. I’ve seen what you do to family. ” If he returned, Kyros would escort him straight to the tanks, which was how the Kleptopsychs disposed of pesky little problems like him.
    “So this is how you choose to live instead? As a common Rogue? A pathetic creature with no loyalties, no purpose?”
    “I have a purpose.”
    “And what is that? To save the humans from themselves?” Kyros released a mocking laugh. “That’s not a purpose. That’s a waste of time. Humans were created to sustain us. They’re food. Nothing more. If you were born soulless as you were meant to be, you’d know that. You were conceived to help destroy the Watchers, not join them.”
    Kyros would never forgive Adrian for being born a Hybrid. From the moment Adrian took his first breath, he’d been a constant disappointment to his uncle, who’d hoped his sister would spawn the perfect tracker—a creature without a conscience that Kyros could add to his impressive army.
    “I have no intention of joining the Watchers,” Adrian reassured him. “In case you haven’t noticed, they want me dead, too.”
    “I don’t want you dead. It’s not you I seek to destroy, it’s your soul.”
    Kyros firmly believed that if he extinguished Adrian’s soul—the task he’d failed to accomplish when he’d murdered Adrian in his crib—he would have the dedicated soldier he’d always envisioned. So, never one to accept defeat, he’d spent the better part of nearly two centuries searching for it.
    “Well, good luck finding it,” Adrian growled, tamping down his growing impatience. Having recently ingested two unstable life-forces, he wasn’t as coolheaded as he would’ve liked. “It’s probably been born several times over by now.” He skewered his uncle with a meaningful glare. “And as long as the damn thing remains in circulation, you can forget about controlling me like you do them.” He gestured to the assembly of mindless foot soldiers surrounding him.