The Liberator

make ourselves happy. And we never worked for Big Guy. We wouldn’t have. He expects his followers to do for others, not just themselves.”

Aspen studies me, turning over what I said in her mind. “You’re different now.”

I let the conversation go and move past her. “We need to find Charlie’s soul.”

“How?”

I walk along the pristine hardwood floor, wondering the same thing. “I’ll recognize it.”

I hope.

Aspen moves in a different direction, and within a few seconds, I don’t hear the sound of her footsteps.

“Aspen?” I call out.

“I’m over here,” she answers. “Just looking around.”

“Don’t go too far.” Despite the lowered temperature in this room, sweat still coats my brow. I don’t forget where I am for a single second. If one collector knew we were down here, the others probably do, too. The question is, how many of them are here?

When I remember the determined scowl on Patrick’s face, I pick up my pace. My feet move faster as I pass rows of luminous souls. I approach a towering shelf that feels…different. My hands twitch as I move down the aisle, searching for what made me hesitate.

But there’s nothing that screams to me. It’s more like a whisper.

I shake my head and decide it’s not here. If it were her soul, I’d know it like a bat to the skull.

Aspen’s voice resonates through the hall. “Dante!”

Her tone isn’t alarmed. It’s more surprised. I leave the aisle I’m in and rush in the direction of her voice. When I find her, she’s stooped over something. Her back is arched like a question mark, her dark ponytail caressing her cheek.

“It’s a letter or something,” she says as I approach.

I move closer until I can see what she’s referencing.

It’s a scroll.

The second scroll

It’s enclosed in a glass case like we’re in a freaking museum. I debate telling her what I know about the scrolls, which is pretty much zilch. And that this could be a fake like it was at the Hive. Not that seeing the real one did me any good. I look closer to see if there are any words on this scroll—

But something stops me.

It isn’t a whisper. It’s a scream.

And it’s coming from the next aisle over. Aspen doesn’t seem to hear it, which means it’s only in my head. This could be it. I move away from Aspen and toward the place that calls out to me. As I approach, the sound overwhelms my body and causes my legs to shake.

I turn the corner, and there it is. There’s a carved column that stretches to my abs, and above it floats an iridescent ball. It glows and spins like a child’s toy. My breath catches as I near the ball. Inside there’s a soul, and it’s the most remarkable thing I’ve ever seen. It glimmers as I approach, almost as if it remembers the night I collected it.

Behind me, I can hear Aspen calling my name. She’s talking about the scroll, but I don’t give a rat’s ass about that thing. Not when Charlie’s soul is singing to me. I move closer and reach out my hand.

Is there an alarm?

Will the ball hurt me if I touch it?

It doesn’t matter. I can’t stop myself from reaching out—

“Dante, this thing is really freaking me out,” Aspen says.

I’m so close to Charlie’s soul, so close I can feel the warmth it radiates even from inside the orb.

Aspen’s words continue to reach me, though I’m hardly listening. “This thing is saying that there are—”

Wait, what?

I jerk my hand back from Charlie’s soul as a current of energy courses through me. “Aspen, are you saying you can read the scroll?”

“Uh, yeah. I’ve read it three times. It’s freaky as shit.”

Though every part of me aches to take Charlie’s soul, I hurry toward Aspen. I come to stand beside her, positive that this is another faux scroll. But when I see it, the hairs on the back of my neck rise.

There aren’t any words.

I place my hand on the glass case and narrow my eyes. “Are you sure you see words?”

Aspen glances at me like I’m crazy. “What, are you blind? It’s right there.”

“I see the scroll,” I say. “I just don’t see any words.”

Aspen takes three steps back from the case. “Stop messing around.”

I turn and look at her. Aspen’s green eyes are round with worry. But there’s something else there, too— excitement. “The first time I read it, I sort of knew it was true.”

“What does it say?” I ask, my pulse pounding.

Instead of answering, she stands stock-still, staring over my shoulder. I follow her gaze.

A collector steps out from the shadows.

40 Wicked Little Rose

I recognize him immediately. It’s the same collector who has haunted my dreams ever since the night he struck Charlie and killed Blue.

“Rector,” I hiss.

The collector bows his shaved head in acknowledgement. A close-lipped smile stretches his mouth as he brushes off the front of his navy-blue starched shirt. Always with the formality, from his clipped words to his militaristic air. Rector waves his hand forward, and Kincaid steps beside him. The two of them now stand ten feet in front from me, and Aspen is an arm’s length behind me.

“Is that it?” I ask.

Rector’s grin widens. “Patrick is here, too. Everyone else is working above ground.”

“Actually, Patrick is drowning with the water demons,” I say.

His smile falters, but not for long. “No matter. You are here, and that is all we need.”

“I brought a friend,” I say.

Rector rolls his shoulders. “I see that.”

“She and I are going to kick your ass, old man. Then we’re going to take Charlie’s soul.”

Beside Rector, Kincaid laughs. “Nice plan you got there.”

Kincaid is the newest collector on my old team. He pulls on his short blond ponytail like he’s prepping to tango. His nose is too big for his face and his eyes too small. He has a birthmark along his right cheekbone. It’s like a beacon for my fist.

Aspen steps close to me and puffs out her chest. “You don’t know who you’re messing with.”

“I think we do,” Rector says, his dark eyes searching her face.

Aspen sucks in a breath. The way she does it seems like I’m missing something important. “Are you the one who stole Charlie’s soul from Dante?”

Rector folds his hands together like we’re moments away from enjoying tea and crumpets. “Dear child —”

“Don’t you dare call me that. I’m not your daughter, asshole.”

Oh, smack! Rector done hit a nerve.

“Let me try again,” Rector says. “The two of you are not leaving here. But I do have a proposal.”

Fury builds in my chest. A proposal? From him? Screw that. I suddenly remember with painful clarity the way this dick hurt my girlfriend. I remember that he’s the reason everyone I care about has been put in danger. He took Charlie’s soul from me, but tonight I steal it back.

“Hey, Rector,” I growl. He glances in my direction. “Let’s play instead.”