her soul to take (Harley Laroux)

page 10

There was a spark of hellfire in her. Bratty. Brave. Oh, I liked that.

Have you ever wondered why humans buy their dogs toys that squeak? It's because the squeak mimics the sound of an animal fighting for its life, and the dog gets excited.

Sometimes those squeaky, desperate sounds of struggle just make a predator want to bite even more.

Her face fell as I climbed the steps toward her. She folded her arms and shuffled her feet into a wider stance as I stood over her and leaned down. We demons couldn't control the minds of humans, but we could  nudge them. We could implant influences to stir feelings or sensations. Easy enough to ignore if a human tried, but not when they were so distracted as she was.

Her eyes kept wandering, naughty little thing. I nudged her mind just enough to let her imagine a subtle squeeze around her neck.

"What's your name?"

She was fidgeting now. Nervous, aroused, confused. If I'd touched her, she might have combusted, and that was exactly how I wanted it. The pursuit was no fun if the victim wasn't willing, and the longer she lingered in the tease of it, the temptation, the more curious she'd be.

"Alex."

Liar.

"No. It's not." A little bit more of a squeeze, a little more of a nudge. I did love making brats quiver—certain former lovers would attest that it was because I was a brat myself, but those former lovers would be wrong. I only gave her mind a push, and her imagination did the rest. Confusion flickered across her face, and she gulped. A curious mind would begin to wander in the direction of dark lusts, the sins they'd tried to hide. What were hers?

"It's Raelynn," she said, and this time, she wasn't lying. "If you're going to be such a dick about it, I'll just leave then."

Raelynn. It suited her, felt right for her. Satisfied, I widened the gap between us and stepped aside, giving her an easy escape. She hurried down the steps, body tight and tense, her scent wafting over me again.

"Watch where you wander, girl," I said. "Curiosity can get you in trouble."

Her shoulders tensed even more. She flipped her short hair over her shoulder, stomping her boots across the grass as if I'd just ruined her morning.

Brats need to learn their lessons somehow, don't they?

I didn't push her. I just nudged her mind in the direction it was apt to go anyway. Unfortunately for her, she was already rather clumsy.

Her feet tangled, and the jolt made the strap on her bag snap. Books tumbled across the grass and papers settled into lingering puddles, her coffee burst and sent its contents dribbling everywhere. I had to clench my jaw to hold back the laughter that wanted to come out. Posted up directly in front of the steps she'd just left, I folded my arms and watched her attempt to crouch down in her skirt, one hand awkwardly clutching the back of it to keep it down. Her head twitched back, curious eyes searching, and they met mine for only a brief moment before she looked away again.

She looked even cuter with her freckled cheeks reddened in embarrassment.

Her friend came to collect her, and they left together. I watched her walk across the quad, but my eyes narrowed as she reached her group and sat down. The Hadleighs — what in Lucifer's name was she doing with the Hadleighs? I'd never seen her with them before. Did she even have any idea who they were? What they were capable of?

It didn't matter. It shouldn't have mattered. She'd be my prey regardless. But the peculiar urge to warn her needled at the back of my mind. It was an urge I quickly shoved away. I hadn't earned a reputation as a guardian, I was known only for one thing among human kind.

I was a killer. A hunter. Not a protector. Not even for tiny mortal girls with no sense of self-preservation.

It was evening when I found her again. I'd gotten away from the monotony of the quad for a while and walked through one of the far corners of the campus. Benches and tables were scattered under the trees, where students sat hunched over their laptops. I recognized her immediately, sitting cross-legged at a picnic table with her laptop open in front of her. There was now a massive knot in the strap of her book bag, and she had yet another coffee in her right hand. Did this girl run entirely on caffeine? No wonder her heart rate was so high.

Maybe I'd make it a little higher.

I lingered behind her, just out of her line of sight. Her internet browser was open to a webpage with the title Mass Deaths, Madness, and Cryptids: Abelaum's Creepy History. She rubbed her eyes before she went back to reading and highlighted a passage that she copied and pasted into another document.

Abelaum is host to a menagerie of haunted locales and historical monuments ,it read. One such place is St Thaddeus Church, located one mile from the infamous White Pine mine shaft, where the survivors of the 1899 disaster were freed.

What the hell was she looking into St. Thaddeus for?

"History homework already?"

She jumped at the sound of my voice, and turned her head to look up at me. That nervous glance, the uptick in her heart rate, the rapid blink before she looked away—it was enough to make me suck in my breath and hold it in an effort not to move in any closer.

I'd been locked away far too long if a mere glance from a human was having me feel this way.

But I'd had plenty of glances. Plenty of longing looks. It was her gaze. Her scent. Tempting me. I wasn't usually the tempted one.