Lost Eden (The Soulkeepers) by G.P. Ching Page A

to toe and elbowing Sam to do the same. Six-foot-four, broad shoulders, narrow hips, chiseled jaw. She gagged on the stench of the black-skinned snake underneath and unconsciously toyed with the red stone necklace through the collar of her coat. She noticed Ghost adjust the backpack of weapons on his shoulder and cover his nose with his hand.
    The Watcher pulled a pair of sunglasses from his pocket, unfolding them with a quick snap of his wrist. A gold lion’s head ring glinted from his right index finger. As he raised the glasses to his face, Bonnie was afforded a straight on view. His dark blue eyes shone almost purple, an impossible color for humans unless they were sporting contacts.
    The wind shifted, her long red hair floating forward over her shoulder. Those purple eyes locked onto hers. The smile faded from the man’s face, and he slid the sunglasses on. One step, then another. He was coming for her.
    “He saw me,” Bonnie whispered, but she needn’t have said anything. Sam was already pulling her back into the crowd, and Ghost was blinking in and out of sight, searching for a good place to hide and regroup.
    “This way,” Sam said, eyeing her phone. “Jesse says there’s an alley.”
    Holding hands, Bonnie allowed Sam to pull her through the crowd, snaking in and out of the protesters. Again and again, Bonnie looked over her shoulder, searching for the Watcher, but the mass of people had closed in behind them. The man was gone.
    The crowd began to thin as they reached Ghost two blocks from Harrington. Two dumpsters obscured the entrance to the narrow, brick-lined alley where he waited.
    “Squeeze through,” Ghost said from the other side.
    Bonnie looked at Sam, who nodded and checked to make sure no one was watching. Bonnie slipped through first, her mass shifting down her leg until an abnormally large foot landed on the other side. She slimmed her body to slide through the gap, sending her extra inches to her foot, then her leg, her hip, and so on. When she was completely on the other side, she pulled Sam through, incorporating her extra mass so that she could fit.
    “That was definitely a Watcher,” Sam said, when she’d resumed her natural form and shape.
    “Definitely. And he saw us. Do you think we lost him?” Bonnie looked through the gap in the dumpsters for any sign of the beast.
    “I think so,” Ghost replied. “I hate to be the one to state the obvious, but one of you needs to become that guy. That’s our way in.”
    Bonnie widened her eyes at Samantha. It made sense, but the thought was terrifying. They’d have to separate. Only one of them could go because the man’s form could not contain both of their mass. But who would go and who would stay? Bonnie watched her sister swallow, her twin’s eyes shifting to Ghost who looked like he might cry.
    No words had to be said. And while she knew that Sam would argue with the notion, her sister needed to stay with Ghost. The two were an item, and separating them could cause a distraction they didn’t need.
    “I’ll go,” Bonnie said.
    “No,” Sam protested. “We should draw straws.”
    Bonnie rolled her eyes. How predictable. “Sam …” Her sister’s eyes darted away. Enough said. “I’ll go.”
    “Hmm, so that’s settled, then,” Ghost muttered, shaking his head.
    Grasping her sister’s hand, Bonnie melded with her twin, concentrating on the Watcher’s illusion and the sound of his voice. Her body changed, absorbing the parts of her sister she needed, growing taller and more muscular. Her long red hair retracted into her head and her face morphed. When she’d replicated the Watcher she’d seen, Bonnie pulled away, detaching from her sister.
    “Is it right?” she asked the now smaller version of Sam. Her sister looked about twelve.
    “Perfect. You even remembered the ring,” Sam said.
    Bonnie looked down at the lion’s head ring and nodded. “How’s the voice?” she asked.
    “Go lower,” Sam said.
    Bonnie tried