His Mortal Soul by a.c. Mason Page A

of her heart thundered in Kieran's head. The physical scars had healed, but what happened still had its hooks in her deeply.
    A man had grabbed her by her hair and his arm had wrapped around her neck, squeezing the air from her windpipe. The distress had paralyzed her and her limbs had grown heavy. Kieran struggled to breathe and placed a hand on the pillar. The flashes were of a horror she'd experienced.
    "Help!” she screamed. Sheer terror was plain in her shaking voice. “Please, someone help me."
    The unmistakable plea pulled him from the intensity of her memory.
    The freckle-faced man caught her arm, threw her to the building.
    She grunted in pain.
    The man covered her mouth with his hand. “Shut up."
    Before Kieran's thoughts registered his intent, he stood behind the man. These abilities took getting used to. Even the demon within him didn't like this man touching her.
    Her eyes widened with fear as she met Kieran's stare.
    He placed his hand on the man's shoulder. “Let the lady go."
    "Fuck off, buddy.” He shrugged, attempting to remove Kieran's hand, but the effort was wasted.
    Kieran pulled the grubby clift away, spun and thrust him into the wall. With ease, he could kill him. The demon craved it. Begged for it. Just one. Feed ... us . Kieran gripped the man by the neck and lifted him off the ground. The man's feet dangled. The pulse beneath his fingers thundered, luring him—and the thirst.
    "I don't think you understood me.” His strength was one of the changes that he didn't mind. The being trapped on earth alone for eternity, that came off as a big letdown. It was the possibility of burning in hell that held less appeal to him. He didn't much like warm climates.
    She covered her eyes and curled into a ball on the ground against the wall. The scent of fresh blood rose from her. She cradled the back of her head.
    His fangs descended and his vision clouded in shades of red. “ You'll never hurt a woman again, ” he ordered into the man's mind with a hiss. “ You're going to go to your room. And you won't remember this ."
    The freckle-faced man nodded.
    Kieran released him. None too soon either, as the pit in his stomach protested. The man turned from them and ran to the western residence building.
    Kieran's vision returned to normal and his fangs retracted. With any luck, she hadn't seen the changes.
    "He's gone.” Kieran turned to her.
    "Deacon Lorcan Kieran?” she asked, peeking at him through her fingers.
    Had he scared her just now? Not him, but the demon within him.
    A smile formed on his lips. She too remembered their brief meeting on the bridge. He'd been so newly turned. Once he'd made sure she hadn't intended to jump off the bridge to save him, he'd fled. Her scent was enslaving.
    "Yes, Ms. Silverman.” He held out his hand to assist her, afraid of what would happen once he touched her.
    Blood coated her hand.
    His stomach grumbled. The infinite pit of hunger grew, but it was south of his waist.
    She rose with her arms wrapped around her torso, leaning into the wall. “How do you know my name?” She too appeared to recall having refused to give him her name during the fateful encounter on the bridge.
    If he admitted the truth, would she think him a creepy stalker? “I've inquired about you."
    "Why?” She cocked an eyebrow and wavered against the wall. The breeze tousled her curls, mixing her scent with those of the soil of his ancestors, water from the canal and the cool autumn evening.
    He could think of nothing more appetizing than her. “I wanted to make sure you hadn't found other ways to end your life."
    She stared at the bandages on his fingers.
    Kieran placed his hands behind his back. Touching the Bible caused his flesh to burst into flames. The Band-Aids provided a layer of protection.
    "As I told you that morning, I wasn't trying to end my life. I thought I saw someone go over the side of the bridge.” She let out a heavy exhalation.
    He wasn't about to tell her it had been