His Mortal Soul. a.c. Mason
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 him. But when he’d heard her scream and run to his aid, he’d held onto the underside of the bridge. Then he’d climbed up the other side. He’d worried she’d hurt herself trying to save him. He couldn’t even die like that. At least, not the way humans could. He was one of the damned.
“I believe you, mo lon dubh.” His Blackbird. St. Kevin and the Blackbird had shared secrets of life, love and patience. Before the night was through he believed the same would be true between them. “May I walk you back to your residence building to ensure your safety?”
“Honestly, Kieran, I don’t know if I should be scared of what’s out there, or you.” The slight quaver in her voice would go unnoticed by human hearing, but it raised the hairs at the back of his neck.
Had she seen the changes in him when the demon took control? “Me?”
“I’m sure you play the whole good Irish Catholic angle to get your way with women.” She rubbed her forehead. The glossiness of her eyes told him how hard she worked to keep herself together.
Once, he’d been a good Irish Catholic, but now it was debatable. “At least you’re to the point.”
“I call it how I see it.” She shrugged. “Like you don’t play up your accent, blue eyes and those dimples.”
“You’re the one with an accent. I speak like my fellow Irishmen from Kildare town. You’re from across the pond.” He smiled. “But if I did play it up, would you let me walk you back to your room?” It mattered to him that she was attracted to him. For the life of him, he couldn’t understand why, since tomorrow he’d no longer exist. When he went through with his ordination, he’d burn into ash and be taken to heaven. At least that was his theory. But tonight he was still the living dead and, more importantly, a man.
“Given the condition I’m in,” she said, clutching her body, “it’s probably best if you see me to my dorm room.”
He removed his jacket and held it out for her. “Here.”
“Thank you.” She slid her arms into the oversized sleeves. The fabric swallowed her, making her appear even tinier than she was. “What are you doing on our campus? Isn’t the seminary on the other side of the river across the bridge?”
“I came to see a friend.” Technically, she wasn’t his friend yet, but he hoped that though their time would be short lived, she’d consider him one. “Where are you from?”
“Near LA, by the coast.”
“Why study in Ireland? It’s not exactly sunny.” Which he was thankful for, or he probably would have burned to a crisp by now. On more than one occasion, he’d gotten pinned by dawn creeping up on him.
“A chance to get away.” She forced a smile. The corners of her lips trembled.
A succession of images invaded his mind. Her arms had been trapped behind her back by a man, who had knelt and held her up against his body. Her face had ached from having been hit repeatedly. Gripped by the intensity, Kieran stopped. Another man had held a knife, and parting her legs, he’d cut her panties. She’d screamed. The man had struck her cheek with the back of his hand, making her whimper. The tip of the blade had dug into her flesh. Kieran stumbled to his knees. The sensation was like searing heat had scorched her flesh. She’d thought of her parents. Of how her death would hurt them. She’d closed her eyes. Don’t let me die like this. It was a plea as much as a prayer.
The memories stopped. Kieran squeezed his eyes shut.
“Are you okay?” she asked him.
He placed a hand on the ground in front of him, unable to focus.
“Kieran?” Her voice trembled.
He breathed in relief. Asking her about where she came from had brought up the reason she’d left. “I’m sorry.” He exhaled the pain, stood and met her gaze.
Her eyes widened with horror. “What for?” As though she sensed he knew, she sped her footsteps.
He pointed back to the pathway. “For men like him and…” He stopped himself from a slip up. “We aren’t all like that.”
She walked into the residence foyer and to the stairs. “I guess you’d know, given you go to a school of all men and most of them have never been with a woman.”
He followed her up to the second floor into the hall. “I wouldn’t say most have never been with a woman.”
She inserted the key into her room’s door, opened it and held it for him. “Are you saying most have?”
“It is hard to say, of the ones I know well enough to make an assumption regarding their past.” He stepped past the threshold, unsure of what would happen. “I’d say most have.” Thankfully he didn’t burst into flames.
The scent of cherry blossoms filled the air. The room was neat. A bed was pressed to the wall, a desk as well. There was a wooden bench and a computer chair. Light streamed in from the window, bathing the space in an orange tinge.
“And you, Kieran?” She closed the door.
They were in the room alone. She’d let him in. But why did she trust him?
“What about me?” he asked.
She removed his jacket and tossed it on the bed. A fitted teal shirt hugged the mounds of her breasts and hips. Black leggings contoured her thick thighs. What would she taste like?
“Have you ever been with a woman?”
Her interest in his sexual history ignited the flames of hell through every taut inch of his body. The heat not only put his soul at risk but also her very mortal life…the repressed passion within him could burn through her flesh and claim her soul too. He swallowed hard.
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