Heart and Soul by Jackie May (interesting novels to read txt) 📕

I wrap my fingers firmly around the grip of my gun. Arael sucks in his bottom lip, salivating at the thought of finally being freed from his prison. “Maybe ‘bribe’ isn’t the right word,” I say. “Maybe it’s more like a truce?” Arael’s face goes blank, and that’s when I know I’ve caught him in a bluff. “Except that the idea of a truce—even the mention of the word truce—would be the last thing to ever come out of a warmonger’s mouth. You’re a terrible liar, for a demon. Let me tell you exactly what you think would happen, and what you hope I’d be too dumb to figure out. I kill you in the face, and you haunt me, but only until Beyona tracks me down, after which I’m kidnapped and taken to a secret necromancy ritual, in which Tabitha Durran summons you away from me and into a reanimated body. Your new reign of terror then begins by killing me in some barbaric way.”

His head lowers back onto the pillow. “Is this the part where I’m supposed to be shocked that you know so much?”

“No. This is the part where you wonder why I’m not more scared of you.”

“Because you’re naive.”

“Actually, it’s because a lot’s happened since you been in here, gramps. New faces. A new ally. Maybe you’ve heard of her?”

“Who?” He tries to sound skeptical, but I can see the doubt flickering in his eyes. My bluff is working.

Just then, the hatch door swings open and Hillerman comes in shouting. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? I don’t know what favors you pulled to get in here, but the FUA has zero jurisdiction over this facility.”

My hand twitches on my gun. I want to shoot her. She told me ten minutes. It’s barely been five. If her objective is to get genuine anger from me, it’s working. “Are you kidding me? FBI lost the handle on this the second Henry Stadther was killed and Brenner’s memories of the revenants were unlocked.” I’m pleased to hear a slight hitch in Arael’s breathing. He’s getting tense, hearing how much we know about his secrets. “The FUA’s taking over, effective immediately, and starting with Arael Moaz, who, I might remind you, was our catch to begin with.”

“Listen to my words, Agent Davies. You. Don’t. Have. Authority.”

“And you don’t have any more time. You’ve had him for months. What have you got? Nothing.”

“Not yet, but I will. I’ve got requests in for…let’s just say ‘stronger methods.’”

“Forget your methods. Start thinking in terms of power. Why bother getting him to talk, when we can take complete control of him? The East Side horde is prepared, and they’re one step ahead of us, I’ll give them that. But I guarantee you they didn’t prepare for our side having a siren.”

Arael’s uneven breathing stops altogether. I think I’ve just given him a heart attack. Both Hillerman and I turn to check on him. One of his eyes is a bit twitchy as he concentrates on my face, trying to read me, searching for the bluff.

Hillerman’s interest is piqued. “Nora Jacobs?”

“A siren’s call is dark magic. It doesn’t control the body. It ensnares the soul.” I wink at Arael. “No matter which body it’s in.”

Hillerman is genuinely stunned. “So, she would enslave him, and he would be forced to tell her whatever she asks.”

“Think bigger,” I say, gesturing to the colorful elixirs. “After we enslave his soul, we cut him loose. Pull the plug on all this. He dies of natural causes. Nobody gets haunted. We wait for the horde to reanimate him, and when they do…”

“We have full control of their master.” She narrows her eyes. “There’s just one problem. Would Nora Jacobs do it?”

In response, I press the button on my walkie. “Send her in.”

With a long, slow creak, the bulkhead door opens. Cafeteria Girl steps into the cargo hold, and then the door shuts with an ominous clang. As she walks toward us, I see that her hands are trembling. On the side of my body that is hidden from Arael, I make a sign of sliding my hand into my jacket pocket. Picking up on it, she jams both hands into her hoodie pocket. Good girl.

The effect is complete. While I see only a nervous cafeteria girl acting pouty, what Arael Moaz sees is the slow and inevitable approach of doom. His breathing becomes ragged. Panicked.

Hillerman puts a hand up. “Hold on, now. I agree this could work—”

“It will work.”

“—but give me time to run this up the chain. I would need a dozen authorizations first.”

“Oh, you need more time?” I say, and then I call out to the girl, “Walk slower, please.”

“I’m serious, Shayne.” The way Hillerman says my name, and the slight way she tilts her head at me, signals that she wants me to pay particular attention to what she’s about to say. She wants to steer me in some direction. “The FUA can’t take possession of a UTF asset without a federal order, and they won’t grant it unless you can prove that I can’t get any more out of him.”

I catch her drift immediately, and it’s a great con, if I must admit. She’s better at this than I thought. I guess I’m glad I didn’t shoot her just now. “Oh, bullshit! We’re way past that point, and you know it. You just said it yourself—you haven’t been able to get squat out of him. So unless you have grounds to file an extension, we’re going with my plan.”

Like a pro, Hillerman pivots off my assist and lays an obvious—maybe too obvious—lifeline right at Arael’s feet. “But I can’t file for an extension unless he gives me something.”

“Not my problem. You’ve got five more steps.”

It only takes two more steps for Arael Moaz to break. “I don’t have what you want. This was Beyona’s operation. She pushed for the necromancer, not me.”

“Here she is, the siren of Detroit.” I sweep my arm