Dark Kiss
Page 29

 Michelle Rowen

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I gripped the dagger tighter. “So this demon…that’s the Source you were talking about? The Source of the grays? Like Patient Zero?”
He frowned at me.
I shrugged. “It’s a zombie movie term. The first one infected who then infects others. And so on, and so on.”
“Sounds about right. I’m to personally find her and learn where she came from and what her master plan is—if she has one. My team is here to keep the city safe from grays whose insatiable hunger is putting humans at direct risk.”
I thought it through. “So she’s like a vampire drinking blood and creating more vampires who want to drink blood, right?” I desperately needed an analogy I could understand. Zombies I understood. Vampires I understood. I’d seen a lot of movies about both. Quite honestly, compared to soul sucking, biting necks might be almost fashionable.
He shook his head as we crossed the street at an intersection. “Blood is not a soul. A soul is the very essence of a human life, a precious and invaluable thing. When that human dies, his or her soul remains in existence—immortal—just as most of your religions believe. It’s judged and sent to either Heaven or Hell. Each soul is important to maintain the balance—be it a soul of darkness or of light.”
I frowned hard, trying to process all of this. “Wait. So you’re trying to say, just like angels and demons, that Heaven and Hell need an equal number of souls to keep this balance? Does that mean that it’s a fifty-fifty split? Half of all humans go to Hell while the other half go to Heaven?” Just the thought of this made my heart pound with fear. While I didn’t consider things like this very often, I wanted to do everything possible to avoid going to Hell when I got my soul back—now that I knew for sure a place like that existed. “I thought that if you’re good in life, you automatically get a ticket to Heaven. But you’re saying it’s more of a lottery system?”
“No, it’s definitely not a lottery.” This statement had brought a glimmer of amusement back to Bishop’s handsome face. I glared at him. So nice to know that I helped him find the funny side of this incredibly nonfunny situation. “Souls are… How can I explain it so you’ll understand? They can change as a human lives life and makes his or her decisions. The better decisions one makes, the lighter a soul becomes. The more evil, the soul grows heavy with darkness. Don’t worry, Samantha, more souls do go to Heaven and a human is fully in control of how light or heavy a soul is by his or her actions while alive. Being judged means having your soul weighed.”
I blinked, stunned by all of this. “Like, on a scale?”
“It’s not quite that literal, but yeah.”
I swallowed hard. “So if grays are devouring human souls, then there’s nothing left to go to either Heaven or Hell. And that throws off this all-important balance.”
“Correct.”
I bit my bottom lip and my heart started pounding harder. “So…what does that mean? For me? What happens when I die?”
He didn’t answer. His focus was on the sidewalk as we continued to trudge along. I grabbed his arm and forced him to stop and look at me.
“Bishop, what does it mean if I die without a soul?”
His jaw tightened and he looked away, scanning the street, before meeting my eyes again. “If you’re careful you won’t have to worry about that for a long time. Besides, I agreed to help find a way to restore your soul.”
That didn’t set my mind at ease in the slightest. Fear raced through me. “But—but what if I am killed? You’re planning on doing that to other grays, right? With this dagger?” I held it up. My arm ached from clutching it for so long, but I wasn’t ready to give it up quite yet.
He didn’t speak for a moment. “Then it’s the end. Just like when an angel or demon is destroyed. You will cease to exist.”
I staggered back a step and felt my face blanch. I began to tremble from head to foot.
“No, don’t cry, Samantha,” Bishop whispered, drawing closer. “It’s going to be okay.”
I frowned and looked up at him. I hadn’t realized that I was crying until he’d pointed it out. He gently stroked the tears off my cheeks. The heat of his skin sank into mine, warming me, and the pleasant sensation made my breath catch. He cupped my face in his hands and looked down at me, his brows drawing together.
“I promised I’d keep you safe,” he said. “I promised I’d help restore your soul. I know I haven’t shown you much reason to believe in me, but believe it when I say this—I know you’re different from the others. You’re incredibly special—so special. And I swear I won’t let anything bad happen to you. Okay?”
He leaned forward and brushed his lips against my forehead.
I think I stopped breathing entirely for a moment. His lips left a heated impression on my skin. Talk about living in the now. Everything fell away from me, every worry, every fear.
When he leaned back, something had shifted in his gaze. So far tonight I’d seen confusion, annoyance and a healthy portion of distrust there. But now I was sure I saw…desire.
For just a moment, he looked at me like he wanted me.
My entire world closed in on his lips. Even though he’d said he didn’t have a soul, I still wanted to kiss him so desperately it was impossible to ignore the deep need to pull him to me and do just that. The dagger fell from my grip and clanged to the ground as I took hold of his T-shirt, drawing him closer to me. Closer, until our lips were only a breath apart.