One Soul Book Two

Chapter Four

Harlee POV

“No, this isn’t real.  It isn’t real.  It just can’t be real.”  I couldn’t stop myself from mumbling over and over to myself.  Sands turned and slowly dropped his shirt, revealing how the wings grew seamlessly from his skin.  He gave them a good flap, knocking pictures and knick-knacks from walls and shelves around the room, before turning back to me and tucking them against his back again.  I closed my eyes.  Ash shifted away from me on the bed and took my hand.

“I’m not going to completely change Form, because I don't want to scare you, but..”  Ash ran my hand along their forearm, now covered in cool scales.  They were surprisingly soft except where the edges caught at my fingers where they overlapped.  I ran my hand against the lay of them in disbelief, surely this was a trick.  The scales gave slightly before laying back down, and Ash shuddered.  I watched the pale white scales ripple in disbelief.  Well white wasn’t really the color I supposed, it was more opal when the light hit it right.  Under my hand the scales disappeared, then reappeared, changing to that soft flesh and then smooth scales again in the blink of an eye.  “It’s real Harlee.”  Ash murmured softly.

“No.  No, nononono.  What are you guys?  Sorry, people?  Umm, beings?”  I pulled my hand back from Ash, tucking it against my chest.  “This.. is a dream..  It just.  no.. “  I closed my eyes again.

“Harlee?”  Ash asked as I swayed slightly.  I giggled, then clutched my head again.  There was so much noise up there.

“Just got a little light headed.”  I tittered, and felt Ash laying me back on the bed.  I cracked open my eyes to see a pink slitted gaze staring back at me as I was mumbling my thanks.  The sight of those eyes sparked an irrational fear in me so primal I immediately screamed.

“After all, they say the eyes are the window to the soul.”  I heard a deep voice purr.

“No, no!  Let me go!  What are you?  Leave me alone!”  I was kicking, hitting and screaming, trying to fight my way free and getting dizzier by the minute.

“Damnit, she’s bleeding again-Sands, Sam, a little help?”  Ash was trying to hold me down and was doing a terrifyingly good job of it, but my fear was doing a damn good job too.  I screamed until I passed out.

Zeev POV

Holy s**t was I weak.  I’d never drained myself this far.  Everything ached.  The cement floor was cold.  And hard.  And it had stupid rocks embedded in it that kept biting me in the back.  Or ass.  Is this what humans felt like all the time?  This complete misery?  I’d be making some Demon deals too if it meant I didn’t feel so tired and my lower back didn’t act like someone tried to disconnect it at the curve.  Damn.  And what even is that feeling below my ribs?  Hunger?  Why is it so uncomfortable?  So I haven’t eaten in days.. Weeks.. Months..  I groan and roll over.  Even clothes are uncomfortable!?  This damn pair of denims has studs in it that are digging into my skin where the concrete is already making my life miserable enough on my hip and thigh.  Decorative straps be damned!  And why can’t I get my arm comfortable?  It just keeps going numb, damn concrete.

I struggled to my feet and tug at the bars again.  I’m losing strength with power, but they still give.  Too bad the Form I always take is such a hulking giant.  With an unexpected snap one bar broke free and bent outward, my face and arm got burned as I fell against the bars.  I slumped to the ground, exhausted.  It will take some time for this to heal..

Harlee POV

My little boy, Cael, is cuddled up in my arms when I wake up.  He looks about five, but I gather he’s actually much younger.  He doesn’t talk, but occasionally a word slips past his lips.  Mostly he just stares at you with those beautiful eyes and makes himself known in other ways.  I wonder if I’ve traumatized him somehow by being ill. I hugged him closer and he made a small whimpering noise, stirring slightly.  He looked at me with half-lidded eyes and then snuggled back into my arms.

“Hello beautiful boy.  I’m sorry momma’s not been feeling well enough to come play or spend time with you.”  I murmured.  He turned his face so his ear was pressed against my chest.  My heart squeezed.  “Do you like the sound of my voice or my heart?”  I asked softly, running my fingers through his soft hair.  I hope they are taking good care of it.  Wavy and curly hair requires different care that straight hair does.  Cael nodded his head against my chest.

“Both?  You like my heartbeat and my voice?”  I teased with a laugh and he nodded again, scooting closer.  I laughed a little harder, squeezing him tighter.  “Well, I hope you appreciate them for many years to come.  One day you may get tired of hearing your old mom speak.”  Cael shook his head and I laughed again.

“Oh I don’t know, when I’m nagging you about washing laundry and cleaning your room..”  I offered and Cael looked at me like he wanted to tell me that would never be a problem.  I giggled.  “You’re adorable.”  I touched his nose with a forefinger and he wrinkled it, then buried his face against my chest again.  It took a moment before I noticed he had a palm pressed flat against my abdomen.  In fact, he was almost curled protectively around it.

“Cael sweetie?  Are you worried about your little brother or sister?”  I murmured.  He looked up at me and nodded, then shook his head.  Yes, but there’s more.  I translate to myself silently, and then repeat it out loud to see if I’m right.  “You are, but there’s something else?”  I asked.  He nodded again and curled back into me.  Apparently that’s all I’m getting from him.

“Baby, it’ll be ok, I promise.”  I’ve probably just lied through my teeth.  Cael ignored me.  I had looked up his name once after waking up, wondering why I had chosen it.  It meant something like ‘angel’.  He truly looked like a little cherub, so it fit.

“Little Angel, look at me.”  I tried pushing him back a bit, but he refused, circling tighter against me, huddling tight against my stomach and chest.

“You used to call him your little Prince.”  A deep voice said to me from the doorway.  The voice did something to me, well two somethings really.  First, it thrilled me in ways I was not prepared for, and it terrified me in all the others.  I jerked, looking over my shoulder.  A tall, dark complected man stood in the doorway, leaning casually against the door jamb.  He is possibly the most beautiful of all of the ones I’ve seen since I woke up, and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out where Cael got his gorgeous caramel skin and dark hair, although his father’s is a darker caramel that I desperately wanted to take a bit out of.  I felt myself blush and swallowed hard, it’s almost a gulp.  On closer inspection though, he looked in a terrible state.  His clothes were tattered and torn, burns decorated his arms, face and neck, and as he drew hearer I saw his eyes flicker back and forth from a comforting, if intense and hard deep brown, to a golden orange with a slitted pupil.  I gasped and scrambled backwards on the bed.  Cael sat up and held up one chubby index finger.

“Papa-no!”  Cael said in his clear, high voice.  It’s adorable.  I’d love to hear the little one sing.  I’d bet he’d sound like an Angel too.  But back to the man, he was definitely the father of my first child, as confirmed by the child himself, but none of the others had ever even mentioned him.  Why?  Was he dangerous?  Looking at him now, I’d believe it.  And where were the others?  I looked around the man for them, seeing nothing.  He crawled onto the foot of the bed and I pulled my feet under me.

“No!  Papa!”  Cael squealed, standing in front of me with his little arms spread wide.

“Cael, you need to move, you know we need each other.  I’m starved.  Her soul is starved.  We’re not doing so well Cael-you can feel it too.”  The man growled.  I grabbed Cael and tugged him against me, afraid the man might harm him.  He stopped and blinked.

“I would never harm our children Harlee.”  He answered my unspoken thoughts, making me panic.  Part of me is terrified of this person, irrationally, instinctually so.  Another part of me is urging me to go to him.  To get as close as possible.  Snuggle right up against that big chest and let those strong arms wrap around me.

“Yes Harlee, come to me.”  His voice became lower, filled with need.  He held out a hand to me and his eyes flashed orange again, almost red this time.  Cael turned in my arms.

“No momma.”  He shook his small head.  “Papa’s not safe.  May hurt you.  Not on purpose but he’s sick.”  I stared at Cael open-mouthed.  This is the first hint I’d had that he actually could or would verbalize.  I was starting to think he may have some form of trauma, or maybe had autism, and was already researching how best to raise him supportively.

“Cael baby!  You spoke!  I mean, more than a few words!”  Was I making too big of a deal of this?  Would I set him back by acting like this, or seem unaccepting of him by acting like I liked this better?  I resisted the urge to keep going and simply hugged him swiftly.  “Not that I find anything wrong with you when you don’t speak, momma loves you baby.”  I bit my lip to shut myself up before I could do him anymore damage.

“He’s done much more than that.”  The man scoffed.  “But I supposed you can’t remember his change to Angel Form, or how he rescued us from Lil, can you?”  The man’s voice was derisive and sparked a flurry of images that wouldn’t let me pin them down in my head.  I groaned and clutched my temples.

“No Papa stop!  She’s not ready!”  Cael shouted, protectively holding his little hands over my own.  The images slowed.

“Who are you to tell me what the other half of my soul is ready for?  My Bonded?  My Heart?”  The man yelled, advancing on us.  “Harlee and I share a soul, our minds, our lives.  They’re all Bound together.  I know her better than anyone!  Even you son!  You may be a splinter of my very Core, but you have not shared everything Harlee and I have.  You have no idea!”  He had moved off the bed now, pacing around the room as he shouted.  I cringed and Cael looked at me with worry.

“That’s enough!”  Cael commanded, and instead of the five year old boy, there was suddenly a very tall young man kneeling before me, still gently touching my temples, golden wings, caramel skin, my eyes, hair curling over his shoulders.

“C-Cael?”  I stammered.  He turned on the man.