Soul Screamers, Volume 1

I clenched my jaw against the wail, my mind whirring with questions.

A soul song for a reaper? It made sense—she did have a soul—yet somehow I’d never expected to actually wail for a reaper. Did that mean that Nash and I could save her if we wanted to? But why would we want to? And if we did, would someone else be taken in her place? Did doomed reaper souls require an exchange?

Surely not. Tod had said reaper souls were much rarer than human souls, so if we were to save Bana, would another reaper have to die? Because one human soul wouldn’t be enough, would it?

The kernel of an idea I’d had earlier exploded in my head so violently it felt like my skull would split wide open. Because it wasn’t just an idea. It was an idea. The kind of idea that could change lives.

Or save souls.

My hand clutched Nash’s, and he tore his gaze from Bana to look at me in surprise, at almost the exact moment the scream leaked from my sealed lips. Just a sliver of sound at first, sharp and painful, but controlled. For the moment.

“Bana?” he whispered, hazel eyes wide, forehead crinkled.

I nodded and let another slice of sound slide from me.

Tod noticed then, and shot a questioning glance at Nash, who could only shrug. “You can make it stop, Kaylee,” he said finally, his lips brushing my ear, his peaceful Influence brushing my heart. “I’ve seen you do it. Bring it back. Hold it in.”

But I twisted away from him, shaking my head adamantly. I didn’t want to hold it in. I wanted to let it go. Let my shriek pierce every skull in the room and rattle the windows. And let it capture Bana’s filthy soul.

The rogue reaper was about to pay for her part in Dekker’s soul-trafficking ring, and I was going to personally wring the recompense from her.

Addy and Regan watched me now, rather than Bana and Levi, and their stares made me nervous. Broke my concentration.

I closed my eyes briefly, then opened them along with my mouth. Sharp spikes of sound burst from me, washing over the room like a wave of glass shards. Addy, Regan, and Dekker flinched as one, as their brains were pierced by the evidence of my intent. Their hands flew to their ears. Their eyes squeezed shut. Their noses wrinkled in displeasure bordering on pain.

Levi shuddered, but his concentration never faltered. Bana was in too much pain from the brutal removal of her soul to even notice what I was doing. But Nash and Tod each wore odd smiles, their faces almost slack in pleasure. They heard my wail as a beautiful, eerie song, a melody without equivalent in the human world. A gift from the female bean sidhe, which only the males of our species could experience.

Even the undead males, apparently.

The panic ebbed inside me, riding the sliver of sound out of my core and into the room. With that pressure released, I was able to focus on my part in the plan I was forming. And to somehow communicate Tod’s part to him.

An instant later, the last ember of light died in Bana’s eyes, and her soul rose from her body. It looked exactly like a human soul—pale and formless. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but that wasn’t it. Shouldn’t a reaper’s soul be different, somehow? And if it wasn’t, would my plan even work?

Only one way to find out…

I sang for her soul. Called to it, suspending it in the air like a thick fog as Levi let go of the dead reaper’s arm. He stepped back, and she collapsed on Addy’s plush living-room carpet, a tangle of bent arms and awkwardly twisted legs.

Dekker jumped away from his dead employee so fast he tripped over his own feet and would have gone down if not for the chair he grabbed for balance. If I hadn’t been screaming loud enough to rouse the dead, I’d have laughed. I wouldn’t have thought someone who dealt so closely with reapers and hellions would be spooked by a little death.

But despite my fleeting amusement, my plan was not funny. It was born of desperation and inspiration, and it would never work if Tod didn’t get on board. Fast.

Unable to take my eyes from Bana’s soul, I felt around on my left, reaching blindly for Tod’s arm. I found it, and pulled him forward just as Nash bent to whisper into my ear. That was the only way I could hear him over my own wail, and I probably wouldn’t have heard a human voice. “What are you doing? She’s dead. Let her go. I’m not bringing her back.”

I shook my head vehemently, frustrated by my inability to communicate. When Tod’s head came into my field of vision, I shoved him toward Bana, pointing at her hovering soul with my free hand then at Tod. Specifically, at his mouth. I needed him to suck up her soul, like Libby had sucked up the Demon’s Breath.

To hold it, just for a little while.

And finally, he seemed to get it. “You want me to take her soul?” he asked, and I nodded, relief washing through me so quickly the edges of my vision went black.

I grabbed Nash for balance and concentrated on maintaining my song.