Soul Possessed. Katlyn Duncan

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СКАЧАТЬ to both rush into his arms and run away at the same time.

      “What are you doing?”

      Lifting his sword from his baldric Jackson twirled it in his hand. “You were the one who stood up. I’m assuming you wanted to prove me wrong.”

      I cursed my defiant side and Jackson for always knowing what was on my mind. Even though my memories were locked away, traces of them appeared in my personality. More so when he was around. It was as if they responded to him in some cruel joke against me.

      “No. That wasn’t—”

      Jackson looked over his shoulder, showcasing his defined jawline in profile. “Well we need to finish up training for today if anything.”

      He nodded to my sword and I lifted it, pointing it up at the ready. I pressed the toes of my boots into the ground and shifted my weight, just as Jackson taught me. Like a bolt of lightning, he struck, his weapon crashing down on mine. I blocked, but he twisted around and brought the sword down again, harder this time. I struggled to keep my sword up against his, but he pulled it away quickly before striking again. I blocked every shot, but unlike before I had no opening. His method while training had been to use cunning and brute strength, just as the Shadowed did. They didn’t care about poise and precision, they wanted results by any means necessary. But in addition to that, he was proving a point; that he was right.

      Before I knew it, Jackson had me against a tree, the bark pressing into my back. I ducked one of his blows but he deftly spun around and continued swinging.

      “Focus,” he growled.

      There was no sign of the devastatingly handsome boy that I’d grown to know. He had turned on his full Guard mode and it was both a beautiful and terrifying sight. “I am,” I said through gritted teeth, accepting another shattering strike on my sword. I wasn’t sure how long my arms could take the beating.

      “Don’t think.” He didn’t even look like he was struggling. His muscles moved under him as if the sword was an extension of his body. “The Shadowed don’t think, they act.”

      The grass was a lot softer than the hard packed dirt I was used to training on. I regretted baiting him before but at each connection of our weapons, my regret grew into white hot anger. My rage blinded me and for a second I forgot where I was. I tripped over a small root in the ground, breaking my rhythm and in the process my sword flew from my grip.

      Dropping his sword on the ground, he came at me. Along with swordplay, he’d schooled me in hand-to-hand combat, but before I could make a fist, his hand shot out and gripped mine, hard. He twisted my body unnaturally and I cried out as he grabbed my other wrist and held it behind me. He pressed my back against his chest, caging me. I tried to wriggle free from his hold but I failed.

      His cheek pressed against my head and he whispered in my ear. “Like I said, I can handle it.”

      I shivered, but this wasn’t the moment to get distracted. I struggled, but his grip only tightened.

      Focus.

      I kicked out but his legs were cemented in place. I lifted my body, putting all my weight on his arms. He grunted and I found a chink in his grip and muscled out. Maneuvering his hands he twisted me around so we were chest to chest. With the height difference it was more my chest to his abdomen. He held my arms together at my back with one hand, the other held up in front of my face, goading me.

      “Alright,” I said, defeated.

      He smirked. “Alright what?”

      “You can handle it.” He released his grip and I stepped back from him, needing to get away from his distracting body.

      I held out my hand. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to use this.”

      “Fair enough, but if you ever want to—”He trailed off.

      I adjusted my baldric and stared at the space between us. My wrists ached where he had held them, but I’d be damned if I would show my weakness.

      “Did I hurt you?” he asked, seeming to read my mind.

      I blinked hard and flicked my gaze up to his. “Not as much as I’m about to hurt you.” I slid my foot under my sword and flicked it up to my hand.

      “Bring it on.”

       Chapter Three

      Several sessions later, Jackson called a break in our training. We’d been at it since the night before and he suggested we rest. As a Collector I’d spent my free time in my office in a towering skyscraper in New York City that straddled the edge of the After and the Living Realm. The Guard had an office there too, but in their time outside of assignments they had living quarters nearby.

      With my new almost-Guard status I had been allowed to stay with them in a set of bungalows that stood atop a cliff. Like most parts of the After, the first time Jackson took me there I’d been speechless. The office I’d known for the past century was a short distance behind the bungalows so we were available as needed. And while Collectors were linked only with Gate Seven and the office, the Guard could wander the After as they pleased.

      The trail leading from our training site up to the bungalows tapered farther up the side of the cliff. Jackson took the lead toward our resting place. Souls had no need to actually sleep, but rest was needed, especially after an intense training session.

      A sinking sensation crushed my midsection as we neared the Guard camp, as it always did when we returned. I tried to stay away as much as I could manage but I couldn’t do it forever. Dozens of pairs of eyes burned into my back and I watched Jackson’s posture stiffen, but he stayed by my side.

      Another regret about the night of Ally’s birthday was some of the Guard witnessing me suck the soul from David. Now, they all avoided me. Felix had made it perfectly clear that Jackson was the only one willing to work with me. I was a ticking time bomb and no one wanted to witness or be victim to the power I couldn’t control. Jackson was the only one to treat me as if it had never happened. I didn’t know which was worse.

      “Screw them,” he said, leading me toward my bungalow. “You shouldn’t worry about what they think.”

      “I don’t,” I lied.

      He chuckled. “Sure.”

      I shared a bungalow with Calliope, the only other Guard that would tolerate me and even that was generous since she avoided me as much as she could. The exterior of the bungalows was made of a golden wood that grew in the After forests, with a gossamer fabric covering the front doorway that rippled in the light breeze. The After had a tropical temperature with a constant light warm breeze moving across the land. In one word, paradise.

      Pushing the fabric aside and I entered the main space of the bungalow. It was simply decorated with few pieces of furniture for sitting, but as much as Calliope had a hard exterior she was a bit girly. The space had been hers for quite some time and she had made it so with planters on most surfaces, displaying the flora of the After.

      “Calliope?” I called.

      No answer.

      Jackson stood at the СКАЧАТЬ