Her Soul to Take (Souls Trilogy)

Her Soul to Take: Chapter 32



“Damn, is this a house or a modern art museum?”

Inaya chuckled at me, my nose pressed to her car window as she drove up the winding driveway to the Hadleigh’s house — estate, mansion, literal museum perhaps. The place was massive, tucked back among the trees of their sprawling, stone-walled property. “Girl, I told you it’s excessive. You’ve never been to a party like a Hadleigh party. Their place is unreal.”

Unreal was accurate. The house had been constructed in such a way that the upper floor was larger than the first, like it was floating above the ground. It was all hard edges, steel, concrete, wooden beams, and massive glass walls. I could see the crowds gathered on the upper floor through the glass, dancing to the thumping bass that I didn’t even need to exit the car to hear.

A knot of anxiety had been growing tighter in my stomach with every day leading up to October 31st, and this legendary Halloween party that half the university campus suddenly seemed to be talking about. I guess I was now regarded as having some kind of “in” with the Hadleighs, because I’d gotten approached more than once by people on campus that I didn’t even know, asking if they could get an invite or if the party was, “just, like, open to everyone?”

Stepping out of the car, dressed in an orange sweater, short skirt, and knee socks as Velma from Scooby-Doo, only solidified that anxious knot inside me. I didn’t feel safe here. In fact, I was certain I wasn’t safe here, but what the hell could the Hadleighs do with so many people around? Sacrifice me in the middle of the crowd like some kind of morbid Halloween stunt?

Not only that, but the sun was setting. Twilight’s pale golden light streamed through the trees, but the shadows lay thick beneath them. In that darkness, I knew what was lurking. I knew the monsters would follow me here, watching, waiting for the opportunity to grab me.

Their gross severed heads had seemed to do their job to keep them away from my yard, but those things were nearly rotted now. I’d kept sleeping over at Inaya’s, since Trent was away on a business trip she enjoyed the company. But I’d started hearing the howls again at night, even from her apartment. Inaya thought it was foxes screaming, but I knew better. I knew what hid in the dark.

I wasn’t here to get drunk, but I was certain I’d need the liquid courage anyway. Somewhere in this house, there had to be something that could help me. A weapon, or maybe some clues to make the monsters leave me alone. Maybe some kind of spell to make the God lose interest in me.

I didn’t have the slightest idea what I was looking for, I just knew I had to find something.

Or I could have just taken Leon’s deal, but noooo. I had to go and ruin it.

I bit my lip as I looked up at the house. My hopes of Leon coming back were dwindling by the day, and now, I figured it was better to just pretend he’d never existed — as if my pussy would ever let me forget him, the traitorous ho. The demon had probably gone back to Hell and taken the grimoire with him.

I didn’t have time for regrets. I had to survive.

The front of the house was lined with cars. The moment we opened the front door, the blasting music reverberated through my body. Despite the cold outside, the crush of bodies inside the house made the air hot, the smell of marijuana and alcohol in every breath I took, the constant murmur of loud conversation making it impossible to hear what Inaya said as she turned to me with a smile and motioned somewhere deeper in the house. I followed her into the crowd, but we’d only made it a few steps when I heard my name called out with a shriek.

“Rae! Oh my God, I’m so glad you made it!” Arms wrapped around me from behind, and the familiar scent of Victoria’s vanilla body spray wafted around me. She planted a big kiss on my cheek before she similarly greeted Inaya. She was wearing a tight black bodysuit, red heels, and a leather rabbit mask over her eyes, her long brown hair pulled back into a high ponytail. She looped her arm through mine, and then through Inaya’s, weaving with us through the crowd. “Let’s get you some drinks, ladies! Love the thigh-highs, Rae, so cute!”

Her words were slurring, and Inaya and I exchanged a quick amused look. She led us through the massive living room, where the music was playing from a large sound system against the far wall. A long white bar, lit from beneath with pale blue LEDs separated the living room from the kitchen, and was lined with numerous bottles of liquor, mixers, garnishes…and Jeremiah.

He was standing on the counter, pouring tequila straight from the bottle into the open mouths of two women crowded against the counter. They sputtered on the alcohol, seizing lime wedges to bury the taste as Jeremiah laughed.

“Who’s next?” he yelled, laughing as he turned around on the bar. He caught sight of us entering, and called, “Hey! Raelynn! Your turn!”

“Noooo, thank you!” I said quickly as Victoria began to pluck various bottles from the bar, like a witch selecting her potions and poisons.

Poisons…my stomach turned a little. But she wouldn’t…would she?

Wondering if my friend was going to kill me was a truly bizarre experience. As if one part of my mind hadn’t yet caught up with the other, there was still that little voice in my head waving her hand dismissively, saying, Victoria isn’t going to kill you, silly.

 Inaya shook her head as Jeremiah hopped down from the bar and sauntered over between us, leaning against the counter and giving me a mischievous smile. He was shirtless, wearing white trousers and suspenders with a bowler hat, his face painted to look like a mime. I’d never seen him with his shirt off; soccer kept him slim, but he was muscular, his abs rigidly defined and his biceps tightening as he raised the bottle of tequila toward me.

“Come ooonnn,” he teased. “One little shot.”

“As if you even know the definition of a little shot.” Inaya scoffed.

My eyes must have drifted a little too much, because Jeremiah’s smile widened, and he said softly, “See something else you like?”

For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. Phantom fingers tightened around my throat, gave one tight, possessive squeeze, and were gone. I gasped softly, my eyes darting around the room, surveying the crowd –

And fucking Jeremiah thought I’d gasped for him.

“Relax, Rae.” He pushed away from the counter, and the way his eyes slid over me made me feel slimy. “Tonight is gonna get crazy. Let yourself lower your inhibitions a little.” He winked, and luckily turned away before I scowled. He had no idea just how low my inhibitions could get; but it wasn’t him I was looking to lower them for.

The pressure that remained on the back of my neck disappeared as Jeremiah left the room, but my heart was still pounding. I knew that feeling, those bizarre phantom sensations. 

But what was Leon doing here?

“To the fucking wildest night of the year!” Victoria cheered as she pressed a red Solo cup into my hands, and another into Inaya’s, before she tipped her cup back and chugged whatever concoction she’d whipped up for us. Despite the anxiety shooting off alarm bells in my head, I gulped down a mouthful: sweet, refreshingly cold, a little bitter, only barely betraying just how much alcohol was in it. Warmth spread as it went down and settled in my stomach. If Victoria was going to be pouring drinks this heavy, I’d really have to be careful.

I needed to find an opportunity to sneak off and explore, but I couldn’t do that with Victoria clinging around us. The party was raging, but people weren’t nearly drunk enough. I’d give it an hour, maybe two, before I figured it would be safe enough to sneak away. 

“Where are your parents for all this?” I shouted over the music as Victoria swayed to the beat. It had been ten minutes, and she’d already finished the drink she’d made and started another.

“Vacation house,” she said. “They have a beachside place up near the Sound. They stay there for a week or so sometimes to rekindle the flame.” She rolled her eyes, but at least now I knew that I wouldn’t have to worry about running into her parents during my snooping. She looked at me, eyes half-lidded and hazy. “Where are your parents?”

“Spain,” I said, almost certain I’d told her this before. “They retired there. I could have gone with them, but uh, I dunno…had to seize my independence or something.” I laughed, but her expression remained blank.

“You probably should have gone with them,” she said, her blue eyes locking straight onto mine with a sharpness I didn’t expect from her drunken state.

But then her expression soured, and she said hurriedly, “Mm…I’ll be right back…” She scurried away, one hand covering her mouth, still determinedly clinging to her drink. Despite the alcohol, I felt way too cold. I chugged down the rest of my drink and headed back to the bar for another.

I couldn’t lose my nerve now.

As I mingled in the crowd, I began to think I’d only imagined Leon’s possessive phantom-touch. Maybe I’d only wished it was there; it was just my brain reacting to an uncomfortable interaction by imagining that the demon was close, watching me, protecting me.

I took a long sip of my drink and winced. I’d put way too much alcohol in it and not enough mixer, and was about to turn back to the bar to try to fix it when Jeremiah popped up beside me.

He had two cups in his hands. 

“You don’t really look like you’re enjoying that,” he said, motioning to my poorly-made cocktail. He didn’t wait for my confirmation before he slipped the drink from my hands, and handed over one of his instead. “Try it.”

I sipped — of course it was better than mine. Refreshing, limey, sparkling. I nodded. “Yeah, that’s way better.”

“Just come to me if you want another,” he said, bowing as he headed back to the kitchen, likely to throw away the mess of alcohol I’d made. They were good hosts, even if they were secretly plotting to kill me.

I stayed at the edge of the crowd, swaying with my drink, watching couples grind up on each other to the pounding beat. Inaya had wandered off, and I was still trying to work up the courage to sneak away when I noticed a couple at the far side of the room eyeing me.

They were dressed in identical black suits and bowties, their faces painted to look like skulls. The woman’s long, wavy black hair was pulled into a ponytail, and the man’s hair was dark and slicked back. They were both tall, colorful tattoos peeking out from the wrists and necklines of their jackets. They were the type of couple that looked far too absurdly attractive — it was almost irritating to have that much sex-appeal taken up by two people.

They kept staring at me for so long it was beginning to make me blush. There was something vaguely familiar about the guy, as if I’d seen him around campus…maybe I had a class with him. It was the woman who made the first move, making her way slowly across the living room to stand beside me along the wall. Despite the suit, she was wearing steel-toed boots and towered over me.

When she smiled at me, I was suddenly certain that she could literally step on me and I’d say thank you.

“Hey.” Her voice was husky. “Having a good time?”

I nodded, flustered as fuck to have a beautiful girl talk to me without prompting. “Yeah, it’s pretty wild. Definitely the biggest party I’ve been to.”

“I’m Sam.” She held out her hand, the slightest stutter in her voice as she said her name. Her fingers were warm and rough, as if she worked with her hands a lot. “Would you…” She nodded back toward her partner, who winked at me as I glanced over. So familiar. Where the hell did I know him from? “…would you wanna dance?”

I was more likely to trip over my own feet than actually dance with them. But her hand was so warm on mine, and across the room her partner was flipping through the music on the TV and selected a song called Distance by Apashe.

I smiled and nodded, and she tugged me by the hand across the room, her dark brown eyes on my face as she brought me closer to her man. Then she was in front of me, arms around my neck, and he was behind me, hands on my waist, and our bodies swayed to the dark, swelling rhythm. It didn’t even matter that I couldn’t dance, because between the two of them I was moved however they wanted me, pressed close between them.

Sam’s body moved closer, her thigh edged up between my legs, and her fingers caressed down my neck as her head leaned down —her lips brushed against my ear as she whispered, “You need to stop drinking that, babe.”

But the thing was, I didn’t want to stop drinking. Whatever Jeremiah had made me was good, and the alcohol was finally easing away that vicious knot of anxiety in my stomach. Not just easing it away — destroying it entirely. I felt great. I felt warm. I felt like laughing. And God, I was turned on. The touch of her fingers was vibrant, tingling over my skin, and I raised the cup to my lips again.

She pulled me forward, and then she was leading me again through the crowd. Her man had his hand on my arm, and I was really damn confused as to why we weren’t dancing anymore, until we were in the bathroom, and he’d closed the door, and she —

“I told you to stop drinking it,” she hissed, gripping me by the back of the neck as he took the cup from my hands. “Sorry, babe, it’s for your own good.”

Right as I opened my mouth to ask what the hell she was going on about, she tugged me forward, bent me over the toilet, and shoved her fingers into my throat.

It had been hours since I’d ingested anything but sugary alcoholic drinks, and I vomited up most of the liquid into the toilet. I tried to shove her off, but she was shockingly strong, and shoved me down harder and pressed her fingers back again — more gagging, more vomit. Her man was watching, standing in front of the door like a guard. Only when I gagged and nothing came up did she let me go, to sink down dazedly against the wall as she flushed the toilet and tossed the remainder of my drink in after it.

“What…what the fuck is wrong with you?” I gasped, clutching my stomach, my throat sore from her fingers, my entire back tense with the effort of trying to fight her off. She sighed heavily as she rinsed my cup in the sink and filled it from the tap, then offered it to me as she knelt down.

“You’re gonna need to get a hell of a lot smarter if you’re gonna live, Raelynn,” she said, and I realized I’d never given her my name. “Don’t you ever, ever consume anything Jeremiah Hadleigh gives you.”

I sipped the water cautiously, my eyes darting between her and the man — and that was when I realized: his eyes were golden.

“Zane,” I whispered, and he gave me a cheery salute. 

“Took you long enough to recognize me.” He pouted mockingly. “Fucking hell, Leon wasn’t lying about you being a chore to keep alive. Sucking down roofies like you don’t have a care in the world.”

“Roofies?” My voice shot up an octave in alarm. “What —”

“Your drink was drugged, babe.” The woman sighed heavily. “The Hadleighs don’t intend for you to leave this party, let me make that perfectly clear. And I’ve got shit to do, so keep drinking that water, get your head straight — I need you to get it together and leave.”

My mind was spinning, not just from the vomiting and drugs lingering in my bloodstream. Zane reached down, offering me a mint to ease the gross taste of bile from my mouth. Zane was here…so did that mean…

“Is Leon here?” I choked out. Zane just shrugged.

“He’s around,” he said. “Not watching you closely enough, that’s for certain.”

Sam hauled me to my feet, her fingers like a vice on my upper arm. “Look, we’re gonna call you an Uber and you’re gonna go the hell home. Or get the fuck out of town, preferably. I’m not about to have everything ruined because the Hadleighs’ next sacrifice is ready to just lay herself at the altar.”

She nodded to Zane, who shook his head at me and opened the door —

Only to find our way blocked by a man dressed in black.


Tip: You can use left, right, A and D keyboard keys to browse between chapters.