Darkness edged my vision as his hands wrapped around my throat, squeezing. I struggled in his too strong grasp, flailing at him with my legs and feet, pulling at his hands as I gasped for breath that wouldn't come.
But it was no use.
I was dying.
Tears streamed down my cheeks. I wanted to cry out. I wanted to fight.
But I couldn't.
He was too strong. His grip crushing my windpipe, stealing my breath and bringing death.
My arms trembled, losing their strength and falling away as the black consumed me, and then I had the feeling of rising, of being pulled out of my body.
I stared down at Mark as Chloe's body went limp. He pulled her towards him and gave her a gentle shake as a look of disappointment crossed his face.
"Too easy," he muttered. "Thought she'd last long enough to make it fun."
Yeah, sorry I didn't make it more enjoyable for him.
I shook my head sorrowfully.
Figures, really. Just typical of my luck. Make a deal with the devil for a new lease of life and last barely a day before I was back in the ghost realm.
Fucking wonderful.
"If I'm honest," Orryn said, peering over my shoulder at Chloe's body and scaring the shit out of me at the same time. "I expected you to last a little longer."
I scurried away from him.
Like the last time I'd seen him, he wore an immaculate, dark suit. The type that looked well-tailored and incredibly expensive. The smoky haze that formed the shape of wings moved with him, as he paced slowly around the small storeroom.
He took particular interest in Mark, the orderly, studying that twisted visage with a narrowed gaze.
"Tenebrathe," he said, tapping his lip with one long finger, the nail, pointed and sharp like a talon glistened darkly against his lips. "Curious."
"What the hell's a Teneb-Tena-Te…"
"Tenabrathe," he offered, smiling glibly as I struggled over the unfamiliar word. "Lesser demon. Lowest of the low." He gave me a critical glance and arched one brow. "The weakest."
Ouch.
Yeah, that stung a little.
"Your bloody fault," I muttered. "Her body was just out of a coma. I could barely walk, let alone fight." My tone was way too defensive for my liking. "Plus, she was weak."
Orryn chortled and shook his head. "My dear boy, if your enemy is stronger, you have to fight smarter. You…" he punctuated his point with a jab of his finger. "You, did not fight at all."
"I did!"
"Hardly."
I stuffed my hands in the pockets of my jeans. The same ones I'd been wearing when I died. The first time.
"So.. what does this mean?"
Orryn continued his pacing, watching curiously as Mark slipped out of the door. I was pretty sure he wasn't just going to leave me in the storeroom to be found.
Then again, what the hell did I know? I was a bloody ghost again.
"What does, 'what' mean?"
"This." I lifted my hands to gesture at the ghostly realm around us. "I'm dead. You sending me to Hell?"
"Why would I do that?" He grinned, showing pointed white teeth. "You still owe me."
"Great." I could admit that I was sulking. I hadn't even had the chance to check in on my sister. "So, what then? How am I supposed to repay you?"
The strange man crouched, his hand reaching out, fingers hovering just above Chloe's cheek. Almost like he was about to caress her but wasn't quite able to touch.
I followed his gaze and felt a sting of guilt.
Sure, her soul was long gone but I'd been given the gift of her life, and she'd been killed. I'd been killed. A double murder, in a way, and entirely my fault.
I should have tried harder.
She looked anything but peaceful, eyes open and staring sightlessly at the ceiling, lips parted and tongue sticking out. There was no dignity in death, that was for sure.
"You owe me one favour," Orryn said, voice quiet, all humour gone from it. "Two means I would own you, body and soul."
His dark eyes flicked up to mine and I swallowed back a sudden stab of fear, resisting the urge to step back, away from him.
"A third favour." His voice dropped to a whisper and a chill ran through me, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. "A third, and I will take the souls of everyone you love in payment."
My brow furrowed as I scrunched up my nose, not understanding. "You're offering me another chance?"
"You begged for my help, did you not? A bargain can be made."
Back in the canteen. He'd not replied and I figured he wasn't going to help at all.
"How?" I asked. "Stick me back in her body so I can be killed when Mark comes back? No thanks, mate."
"She is not dead." I gaped as he shrugged his narrow shoulders. "Though that fool was too stupid to realise that."
I didn't know what to say to that. Chloe looked dead, and I was definitely in the ghost realm. "You pulled me out?" It was the only thing that made sense. "Why?"
"To save you, dear boy." That self-satisfied smirk was back on his face. "And, to offer you a deal."
Shit.
I closed my eyes and sucked in a deep breath. Calming myself. "What deal?"
"A blade," he said, black eyes gleaming eerily. "One that can kill a demon."
"Isn't that kind of dangerous?" I asked. "What would stop me using it on you and getting out of paying my debt?"
For an instant, appearing and disappearing so fast I wasn't truly sure I had seen it, there was raw, unfiltered rage on his face. A fury so great my knees trembled. Then it was gone, and I was left wondering if I had seen it at all as I stared at that placid, pale, face.
I licked my lips and wondered if a ghost could actually piss itself in fear because I was close right then.
"Okay." I showed my hands, waving away my previous comment. "A blade. If I accept then, what? You stuff me back in her body?"
"Yes."
And kill Mark when he came back. That didn't need to be said, but what was the point of a knife if it wasn't to be used.
Now, I'd been a bit of a wrong un, I could admit that. I'd done my share of drugs and booze, wild parties, and hookups with girls who expected more than I was ever willing to give. I'd lied and I'd stolen, I'd cheated and even given the occasional beating to people when they deserved it.
But I'd never killed anyone.
Didn't know if I could.
Somewhere, nearby, a howl sounded, echoing through the building and Orryn's lips twitched. He knew he had me by the balls.
I really didn't want to owe him more than I already did, but my choices were limited and going back gave me the chance to see my sister. To check in and make sure she was okay. And, to be fair, my alternative was some kind of hell.
When put like that, I really didn't have a choice.
"Deal," I said, with a sigh.
"Very good."
There were no magic words spoken, no arcane symbols or weird paraphernalia. Just Orryn, holding out his hand outstretched towards me.
I stared at it, frowning.
Then my world exploded.
There was light, so bright it blinded me even with my eyes closed. It burned my skin raising blisters as my clothes turned to ash. A scream filled my ears, and I realised it was my own as I was ripped into ten thousand pieces, shattering like glass and hanging suspended in the air.
Every lie I'd ever told, every bad thought, every crime big and small, were drawn out of me. They gathered into a ball, crystal shards of memory and thought, compressed, and heated, melting into an amorphous ball of darkness.
Then came the light.
The love I held for my sister. The urge to protect her, to save her. The need to stand before my stepdad and take the full brunt of his drunken anger to save it being worse for Mum. That secret urge from the deepest recesses of my being to be someone worthy of being loved.
They compressed into filaments of light that coiled around and through the darkness, as it spun every faster, elongating and flattening out, forming the shape of a curved blade of black and crimson. It's hilt marbled stone with a single, purple jewel on the pommel that drew in the light.
It hurt to look at.
There was a feel of pain to it, and a part of my mind screamed as I felt a heartbeat I no longer had, echo from the blade.
It was part of me, literally, a piece of my soul torn from the whole and formed into a weapon.
The shattered pieces of my soul came back together with a sound like thunder breaking and I collapsed to my knees, weeping as I stared at my hands. My body flickered like an old TV screen, somehow less than it had been just moments before.
Orryn, face flushed with something close to pleasure and eyes afire, stared at the blade greedily and I felt a sinking feeling in my gut.
A weapon.
One that I would wield, for him.
It had been his plan all along, I was sure, though I was equally sure he would never admit that to me.
I was no prize. No great warrior to serve his needs. But with the right weapon… I could be.
"It is done," he said, voice tight with excitement. "Take the Soulblade and feel its power."
Without conscious thought, I reached out, my hand curling around the hilt, feeling the weight as it settled in my hand.
My eyes snapped wide, a surge of energy running through me.
"Yes," Orryn crowed. "Powerful indeed."
The door opened as Mark returned, dragging a trolley, the type that the paramedics used to move people, and bodies.
"He's gonna get rid of her," I said, and Orryn tilted his head, watching me like a hawk would a mouse.
"Two bargains made, your soul is mine," he whispered. "You will serve me as I see fit."
What that meant I had no real idea.
"Your first task." His eyes gleamed as his tongue darted out from between sharp teeth, and I was not surprised to note it was forked. "Kill that demon."
The world snapped back like a rubber band. Air rushed into lungs that weren't mine, and pain screamed through every nerve. His hands were on me again—then mine moved first.
"Huh..?" he said, as I shifted in his arms. "You're-"
The blade sank cleanly into his side, up beneath the ribs and aimed straight at his heart. His eyes went round with shock and pain for just an instant before a light flashed in them and a jolt of electricity shot up my arm.
Then he exploded.