Soul Taker (3 page)

"By all means." He glanced at Johanna and his
aura spiked. Interesting.

Harrison had a thing for Johanna? She shook
her head. It would never work. Harrison was confident in his skin,
while Johanna cowered in hers. The relationship would… hmm… Maybe
she'd have to rethink this. Harrison seemed to be a decent man.
Perhaps he would bolster Johanna's confidence. But then, she
frowned as another thought crossed her mind.
He could further
damage her confidence if he hurt her
.

Harrison went through girlfriends like they
were tissues to be discarded, but then maybe he chose the wrong
type of woman. He may be attracted to the flashy model types—heck,
most men probably were, but once the lust wore off… Well, even a
man in good shape couldn't spend all his time in bed, could he?

"
Psst
." Johanna waved to her
again.

Harrison chuckled softly. "You better see
what she wants. She's near bursting at the seams to tell you her
news."

"Yes, it does appear so."

"Go. You shouldn't keep a lass who is bent on
sharing."

She nodded her thanks. Yes, Harrison may not
know how to commit but he was a considerate man. She strode over to
her anxious friend.

Johanna Threshold was a tall, gangly woman
with an upturned nose, brown eyes that were too close together, and
she harbored an overbite, that four years of braces hadn't
corrected. Most men passed her over without a second thought, which
really was unfair. Isabella wished they could see Johanna as she
did, with all the colors of her aura, all those warm welcoming
colorful hues radiating from her. She was one of the good ones, a
pure soul.

Isabella tilted her head to the side,
realizing how Johanna's aura seemed to glow brighter tonight. "You
look like you've just won the lottery."

Johanna grabbed a hold of her arm, her smile
broadening. "Izzie, I think I've found
Mr. Right
."

"Really? Who is he? Where did you meet him,
and does he have a brother?"

Johanna giggled at their standard joke.
"Sorry, I believe he said he was an only child. He breezed into the
flower shop, right before closing to buy a bouquet for an ailing
friend. We hit it off so wonderfully. We ended up at Siren's Call.
You know the Karaoke bar. I even sang."

"You?" Isabella's brows rose in surprise.

"I know, I know. It was so fun, too. And God,
Izzie, this guy is so cute. Can you believe it? A gorgeous looking
man likes me."

"Why wouldn't he? Johanna, you're wonderful."
She gave her a warm hug. "I hope he knows how lucky he is to have
you. When do I get to meet this mysterious man of yours?"

Johanna's smile slipped for a fraction of a
second before she flitted away from her, pretending to be
interested in the evening's dinner specials posted on the
chalkboard in front of the cashier desk. "Soon, I promise. I just
don't want—" She looked at Isabella as if she didn't know what to
say. "I don't want to jinx it. Okay?"

Isabella nodded, sensing she was holding
something back, but she didn't push. "You let me know. You can
bring him here for dinner—on the house."

"I will, Izzie. I will." She turned to
leave.

"Be careful," Isabella called, causing her
friend to look back at her with a smile.

"I've been careful all my life," Johanna
said. "I think it's about time I'm a little reckless. He makes me
feel pretty." Her cheeks turned a bright crimson. She shrugged her
embarrassment away. "I don't want the feeling to end."

Isabella wanted to tell her not to be rash,
to take it slow and make sure he was worthy of her heart, but she
knew Johanna wouldn't listen to her.

Isabella walked over to the door and watched
Johanna race across the street. A whisper of unease teased her
senses and she frowned, wondering why she was worried. Her friend
radiated with happiness. Surely this meant the man she dated was
treating her right. Just to be safe, she said a silent prayer,
urging Johanna's guardian angel to watch over her.

****

Harrison watched the exchange with interest.
Isabella's brows furrowed and she chewed on her lower lip.
Curiosity got the better of him. He'd heard snippets of the
conversation. Keen hearing made eavesdropping easy. "Does Johanna
have a hot date?" Funny, how the thought of another man touching
her disturbed him, but he pushed the thought away. Johanna wasn't
his type. He was worried about her… like a big brother. He cleared
his throat. His carnal thoughts proved how that was a lie.

Isabella looked at him. "How do you know
Johanna?" She walked back over to his table.

He chuckled. "She's in here almost as much as
I am. We've exchanged words a few times." He shrugged. "She seems
so unsure of herself." He didn't mention how she stuttered and
blushed every time he tried to start a conversation with her.

Isabella sighed. "She doesn't know." His
right brow lifted and Isabella hurried to explain. "She doesn't
know how special she is."

"No, she doesn't," Harrison agreed.
Isabella's pensive expression reminded him of her mother. Louisa
Lucci would have been about Isabella's age the last time he saw
her. He often wished he'd kept in touch with her.

Preternatural beings lived long lives and
they had to reinvent a new life every so often, but Louisa knew
what he was and wouldn't have cared.

When he and Garran decided to come back to
Boston, he was glad to hear
A Taste of Home
hadn't closed
its doors. He'd sauntered into the restaurant, looking for Louisa
Lucci and her talents as a Necromancer. It would have been nice to
have the old team back again, someone they could trust. Louisa had
helped them on numerous occasions back then.

She'd been young and vibrant the last time he
saw her and expecting her first child—obviously, Nicholas, if he
added the years right. He was surprised to learn Louisa had died
over a decade ago.

He knew such talents as Louisa's were often
passed down to their children. He didn't notice any special
abilities with Nicholas Lucci, other than his keen eye for art and
business, but Isabella…she perceived more than others did from a
mere glance. She sensed things about them. She most likely would
sense something different about him, too. Though he had a hunch she
didn't know he was a werewolf. There was no indication she
recognized Otherworldly beings – other than perhaps their aura
appeared different than a human's. Such a shame her parents died
before they had the chance to train her.

He'd been eating at
A Taste of Home
every night for the last six months. He arrived in Boston before
Garran to make arrangements, get their paper work in order, like
new IDs and such.

He'd witnessed Isabella in action. She was
cautious with her gift. He of all people understood prudence. Not
many people would accept what he was and for Isabella—her gifts
would be ridiculed. She would give subtle suggestions when she knew
a person's health was in jeopardy, or if they weren't happy, she
would try to cheer them up with conversation, a glass of wine, or
an extra piece of pie. She knew what would make them smile again.
When they beamed with cheerfulness, she was there to share in their
bliss.

"You're a good friend, Isabella," Harrison
told her and meant it. "Just keep reminding Johanna how precious
she is." Isabella's gaze riveted to him and he wondered why of all
the words he could have used, he voiced the word
precious
.
He cleared his throat and ignored her curious gaze. "Eventually,
she may believe you."

"I hope so," she said.

Harrison knew Isabella would worry anyway.
She cared and never judged. This was why he wanted to recruit her.
Seeing auras did not make her a Necromancer, and there was no
indication she had the ability like her mother, but being able to
read people could work to their advantage, too.

He didn't doubt his ability to sway her to
his side; however, a certain vampire was still not convinced.

Chapter Three

Nicholas waited for Isabella outside the
restaurant as she ran back inside to grab her purse. Thank God, the
humidity had dropped a little and the night was tolerable. "I'm
ready," Isabella said, as she shut the door and locked it again.
She swung her purse strap over her shoulder.

They headed down the street, which was nearly
empty now. They each owned a car, but they walked since the
two-bedroom condo they shared was only a short distance from the
restaurant.

Nicholas shoved his hands into his pockets as
he began to whistle a tune, an old Italian lullaby their mother
used to sing to them. It was her cue that he wanted to talk and
give her advice, but was still working it all out in his mind how
he would voice his concerns. Nicholas was seven years her senior.
He practically raised her once their parents had died and still
felt it was his duty to take on the parental role even though she
turned twenty-one last month.

They passed by the infamous
Paul
Revere's
home. Built in 1676, it was the oldest surviving
building in Boston. She loved the old site. It reminded her how
others walked this road long before she had, brave men and women,
who fought for their freedom and won. She was good about directing
the tourist to the different sites along the
Freedom Trail
.
She knew the city well, embraced it.

She glanced at her brother who should have
gone off to college to study art. He was talented, but instead he
stayed here to keep the restaurant going and take care of her. He'd
put his life on hold. She thought it was because of her, that he
felt responsible for her, but she didn't think so anymore.
Something else had put him in limbo.

He stopped whistling and glanced at her. "I
noticed Harrison Connell talking to you."

"Harrison always talks to me."

"Yeah, but he didn't bring a date, hasn't in
awhile."

Isabella shrugged. "So?"

"So, maybe he's interested."

Isabella chuckled. "Interested? In me?" She
knew where her brother was going. She hadn't been on a date since
Evan Peterson broke her heart.

"Who else are we speaking of?"

"Nick, I don't think I'm Harrison's type."
Besides, she had a hunch Harrison had a secret crush on Johanna.
She wondered why he hadn't acted on it. He didn't strike her as the
shy type.

It was probably too late now anyway. Johanna
had a boyfriend. If he turned out as wonderful as she made him out
to be, she wouldn't be looking to end the relationship anytime
soon.

"When I came up front," Nicholas continued,
"I caught him checking you out."

Isabella looked at her brother. "He's a nice
guy, but…" She let the sentence drift off.

"But he's not Evan," Nicholas finished for
her.

Isabella's brows furrowed before she forced a
smile. "I'm not looking for another Evan."

"Let's hope not, since he left your heart
bruised and bleeding."

"He couldn't forgive me," Isabella sighed
with regret.

"It wasn't your fault."

"Wasn't it?" she countered.

"You told him his daughter was ill. He was
the one who didn't take her to the hospital. Then he dared to
ask—"

"Let it go, Nick," she warned. Evan grieved
for Bethany, his three-year old daughter who had died from
meningitis. His wife had walked out on them when Bethany was six
months old. He had raised Bethany by himself. Evan wanted his
daughter back and consequences be damned, but Isabella hadn't been
properly trained in the art of Necromancy as all her mother's
family had been.

Uncle Giovanni, their mother's brother, had
started to teach her the art, but once Nicholas found out, he put a
stop to it. Since her brother was her legal guardian, he had the
final say. So most of what she knew had been learned by trial and
error, curiosity being her motivator. Hanging out at hospitals and
funeral homes didn't make her the most popular girl at school.

She could bring back a
shade
, an
impression of what the person once had been. Sometimes their last
thoughts rang through, but nothing more. She didn't know how to
call the soul completely back from the veil. Death could be tricked
into giving up a soul, but in the end, it could not be cheated.
Bringing back Evan's daughter would mean someone else would have to
die.

"I'll let it go when you do," Nicholas said.
"You haven't been out on a date in over a year. Maybe Harrison
Connell isn't the best choice, but there must be someone."

"No one's asked."

"You don't let a guy ask."

"I don't see that you have a steady
girlfriend," she deflected.

"I don't have time for one." He shoved his
hands into his pockets of his slacks again.

"So it's okay for you not to date, but it's
not all right for me."

"If you were happy, I would say it was fine,
but you're not, Izzie. I know you're not happy."

"Give me some time, Nick. I will be."

He opened his mouth, to probably say
something to the contrary, but a woman's scream shattered through
his thoughts. "What the…"

"It sounds like it came from over there."
Isabella pointed down the street toward the Revere house.

"Wait here," Nicholas told her.

"I'm going with you."

He didn't have time to argue with her as
another scream filled the air. They both tore off at a full
run.

As they reached the house, a woman came
barreling around the corner, plowing into Nicholas. She fell back,
but Nicholas' quick reflexes steadied her. "Whoa, what
happened?"

With a shaky hand, the woman pointed toward
Paul Revere's house.

"Did someone attack you?" he asked.

Isabella glanced uneasily in the direction
the lady had run from. The news had buzzed about two slayings
behind Tony's Pub. Supposedly, it was a drug deal gone wrong. Still
it had everyone on edge.