The Reaper's Kiss
Keeping one hand on the small of Natalie’s back, William practically shoved her out the door. He wanted to kill the little bug. What the hell was she thinking, coming to see a rogue secucro? A dangerous secucro whose anger had swirled on his tongue like flames, nearly dousing her desire to hurt them. Sure, he’d gone through his own rage stage in those early days, but Danny was obviously free. What did she have to be angry about? And why was she angry at them?
He ignored the rain when they hit the sidewalk. He yanked Natalie to a stop as she headed for her car. “Don’t ever come back here, Bug.”
She swung around and faced him. “First, quit calling me a bug. Second, you have no right to tell me what to do. And third, I don’t have to listen to a damn thing you say. Are we clear?”
“As clear as Danny wanting to rip your soul out. Didn’t you know she was a secucro?”
“Well, duh, I’m not stupid. So what?”
“Because she’s a rogue. She steals souls.”
Her anger cooled as she sucked on her lip ring.
“You can’t go back there,” he said in a softer tone.
“I’ve been there a dozen times. She’s fine.”
“There’s something wrong with her. She wanted to hurt you.” To his horror, he sounded anxious. He cracked his knuckles. While he didn’t really like Natalie, he didn’t want to see her hurt, or dead.
“What set her off? You?”
He shrugged.
“How am I supposed to tell if someone’s a rogue?”
“Good question.”
How could a human tell the difference? They couldn’t. The rain increased, and his wet collar felt cold against his neck. Shivering, he took her by the elbow and steered her to her car.
Once inside, the humid air swirled around him, mixing with the close scent of nectarines and vanilla. Rubbing his chin, he said, “Didn’t you say you could smell grapes around me?"
She started the car and was surprisingly cautious as she checked her mirror before navigating into the street. “Yeah. Danny and Christian smell the same way, though it’s fainter with your nephew and stronger with Danny. I thought it was a secucron thing.”
“Not all secucron.”
His statement hung in the air between them.
“Rogues?”
He nodded.
“You’re a rogue.”
His chest pinched at how young her voice sounded. She was going to run. They all ran. Of course, not that he cared. It would certainly be easier on his ears.
“Do you want my soul?”
Rather than answer, he asked, “You want to break our deal and make a run for it?”
She one-shoulder shrugged, then slammed on the brakes when the light ahead turned red. The seatbelt bit into his shoulder as he was thrown forward. A man in the crosswalk gave her the finger, a favor she returned.
“How do I know you won’t steal my soul?”
“Don’t insult me. If I was going to take your soul, I’d have done it already.”
“Well, excu—u-use me.” She drew out the word in a sarcastic tone.
“Lucky for you, I’m kicking the habit.” He felt good saying it.
Staring through the windshield, she asked, “What are you doing to kick the habit?”
He grinned, but it felt weak, the smile barely hitting his lips. “Pure souls are hot, and their warmth is addicting. Drinking lots of hot coffee helps.”
“Huh, that doesn’t sound very helpful. What else?”
“Soul-hits, though I can’t seem to get enough of them.”
“What are those?”
“A soul-hit is a shot of Giltine’s poison when we reap.”
She gasped. “She poisons you?”
“It’s a poison we need to survive. What’s your favorite food?”
“Chocolate.”
“It’s like getting shots of chocolate. Hot, gooey, melted chocolate.”
“That sounds better.” She licked her lips.
“The best thing? Orgasms.” He linked his hands behind his head and smirked. “How about doing a friend a solid and, well, doing me?”
“Nice try, Old Man.”
“Can’t blame a guy.”
She rolled her eyes. “What happens to stolen souls?”
“They cease to exist.”
“Don’t all the dead?”
“There is an afterlife, whether it be good or bad it’s there. Stolen souls don't get an afterlife though. They’re aware but can’t see or hear or speak. They’re just nothing, floating in a darkness so complete and frigid it’s claustrophobic.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad, especially considering one of the alternatives.” She pointed downward to emphasize her meaning.
“Trust me, it is,” he murmured.
“How do you know?”
“You get a sense of it when you travel between worlds. We call it the abyss. The darkness is confining, the fear suffocating. The soul is left starving and dehydrated. I imagine eternity in the abyss would drive someone totally insane.”
“How long has it been since you stole a soul?”
“Decades.” Why did they have to talk about this now? He was already jonesing for more soul-hits. Frowning, he plucked the rubber band.
“That doesn’t make sense. You said the rubber band kept me safe. If you haven’t done anything in so long, what’s the rubber band for?”
He shifted in his seat, her steady gaze raising the hair on the back of his neck, as though she could see inside his soul.
“Why do you feel guilty?”
He stared straight ahead. “The light’s green.”
She turned back to the road and stomped on the gas, quiet as she worked on her lip ring. He rubbed a thumb over the band on his wrist, feeling the welts beneath. How the devil could she know what he was feeling? He studied her from the corner of his eye. She had reaper blood in her veins; could she taste emotions like he could?
“What makes you think I feel guilty?”
“Woman’s intuition? I don’t know, really, I just have a knack for knowing what other people are feeling. It’s a gift.”
“And do you have other gifts?”
She flicked a sideways glance at him before answering. “Nope. Of course, I can’t tell what people are thinking, just a faint sense of what they’re feeling, almost like I can taste it, though I’m not even sure I know what I’m feeling or sensing, sometimes it’s a blur, or so faint it’s hard to tell. Not like you, you seem to be able to tell everything. All cut and dry.”
She stopped to clear her throat. What a nervous little thing. While she wasn’t outright lying, William knew she was hiding something. She swallowed, and for a moment he was mesmerized by her smooth neck. A neck he could kiss and lick and nibble and . . .
Feeling the heat building, he blinked and snapped his rubber band. “How come you never asked Danny to help you?”
She glanced at his wrist before meeting his eyes and then turning back to the road. “I did. She turned me down. Where should I drop you off?”
“Anywhere. It doesn’t matter.”
“Don’t you have a place to stay, um, up here?”
“It’s not allowed. Just park where you normally park and I’ll go from there.”
She gasped, patted her chest, and batted her lashes. “And let you know where I live?”
He smirked. “I already know.”
Her eyes widened. “How?”
He wasn’t about to tell her he’d followed her after the party to make sure she got home safely. She might get the wrong idea and think he cared. But the way Derek had ogled her had set his teeth on edge. “I have my ways.”
“Are you stalking me?”
“I don’t even like you.”
“Hey, the feeling’s mutual, Old Man.”
The rain stopped, and her windshield wipers squeaked against the glass. She didn’t bother turning them off as she steered into the parking lot of her apartment building, found what had to be the tightest spot there, and then manhandled her car between two newer models. William braced himself for the sound of crunching metal, but she turned off the car, amazingly dent-free.
The queasy trembles were back, his head swimming with the need for a soul-hit. He checked his watch. Nearly 8:30. Plenty of time for a couple of soul-hits before he had to haul ass back to the Other World. He sighed.
He really needed to uphold his end of the bargain and start searching for her sister, even though what he really wanted to do was hit a bar. Looked like he’d have to wait a whole month for his I.D. He scowled at the thought. Something was off with Danny, and he still had no idea who she was. Maybe he’d hooked up with her and never called. There were a few decades in his past that were mostly a blur.
“Nice watch.”
Pulling his sleeve back down, he said, “Thanks. It’s new.”
She turned in her seat. “What’s our plan?”
“There is no our plan.”
“If you think I’m going to just sit back and wait like an obedient Geisha Girl you’re sadly mistaken.”
“You’re going to sit back like an obedient Geisha Girl, and I’m working on it.”
“That’s what you think. Do you have any leads?”
“No.”
She leaned against the door, scrunching her lips into a dissatisfied look. A sparkling skull hung from her keychain, which she turned in her fingers. “What have you done so far to find her?”
Exiting the car, he stretched his cramped muscles. “I don’t have time for twenty questions. I have shit to do.”
Rounding the rear bumper, she planted herself in front of him, hands on her hips and a glare to match a hell hound’s fiery gaze. “And I don’t have time to get dicked around.”
“Don’t worry doll. I got it covered.”
“You’re lying.”
“Prove it.”
“I can’t.”
He lifted his hands. “I win.”
“You better hold up your end of the bargain.”
“Naturally. We demons take our bargains very seriously.”
“I want a progress report every night.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“And if I don’t?”
“I tell Danny to rip up that I.D. Your picture probably sucks anyway, what with your ugly face.”
He ground his teeth. This woman was testing his patience. No one told him what to do, except Giltine. “I’m pretty sure I hate you more by the minute.”
She shrugged. “Now you know how I feel.”
Natalie was proving more trouble than an I.D. was worth. He couldn’t deal with her and her mouth, pretty as it was. Not to mention she was irritatingly nosy. He should never have agreed to help her. “Forget the whole thing. I’m sure Derek’s got connections.”
“Whatever you say.” Turning, she opened the car door and slid inside.
“Where are you going?”
“To talk to Danny and get my money back.”
In a flash, he was yanking her out of the seat and slamming the door shut. Shoving her against the car, he leaned over her. “I told you not to go back there.”
“Our deal is off, and I can do whatever the hell I want. And I want to go see Danny and get my money back. You can leave now.”
William slammed his hand against the car, making her flinch. Her heart pounded against his upper abdomen, and her eyes dilated as she stared at him.
He could barely squeeze the words past his grinding teeth. “Don’t. Go. Back. There. She’s dangerous.”
“And you’re paranoid. What do you care anyway?”
“I don’t care.”
“Then fuck off and leave me alone.”
Her eyes glistened. Hell no. She better not cry.
Instead she lifted her chin. “Maybe if I pay Danny enough, she’ll help me.”
Gods below, the woman was trying to get killed. And if Danny didn’t do it, he just might. “No, you won’t.”
“Just try and stop me.”
“That’s it!” William snapped. “You win. I’ll be back tomorrow night with a progress report.”
“Thank you.”
A lone tear finally made its escape. Before he could stop himself, he traced a finger along her cheek, following the damp path. Her skin felt like satin against his rough hands. Her eyes widened as she peeked at him through her wet lashes, her lips parting as her breathing escalated.
William’s heart beat matched her pace, echoing inside his head. Brushing a lock of hair from her eyes, he let his fingers run through the soft strands. He wanted to taste those rosy lips again, see if they were as sweet now as they’d been when he was wasted. Her nectarine scent clouded his judgment as he slowly bent toward her.
Heat tightened his groin as he worked her lips before sliding his tongue inside to claim hers. As before, he was met with wintergreen, sweet and fresh and intoxicating. She met him thrust for thrust as her hands sought his neck. Deepening the kiss, he pressed her against the car, molding her against him.
Slipping a hand beneath her shirt, he cupped her breast, letting the fullness fill his palm and cursing the bra that barred access to flesh. He massaged it for a moment before circling a nipple with his thumb until it hardened. When he pinched the pebble, she gasped, pressing herself more firmly against his hand.
When the tension in his jeans became too painful to ignore, he withdrew. He wanted to become lost inside her, both physically and emotionally.
Both breathing heavily, they stared at each other.
“I thought you didn’t like me,” she whispered.
“I don’t.” He blinked at the huskiness in his voice. Her warm breath against his lips made his heart flutter. The damned fluttering! What was his problem?
“Then what’s that?” She pushed her hip against his erection.
He held back a groan. Time to stop his body’s reaction to her scent, curves, and lips. He would not get swept up in the heat of the moment, and he would not get burned. Physical attraction or not, he needed to make sure she understood there was no way he’d ever like her.
He let a smirk lift one corner of his lips. “Just because my dick likes you doesn’t mean the rest of me does. It’s a guy thing.”
The desire slowly drained from her face. “Asshole.” She shoved her hands against his chest, moving him back enough to stomp past him.
She called over her shoulder, “Meet me here tomorrow night, eight-thirty sharp, and your ass better not be late.”
“Fine, but you bring the coffee,” he called back.
Flipping him the bird, she disappeared around a corner. His cocky attitude vanished. Not particularly liking himself, the heat inside him was replaced by a chill. Cracking his knuckles, he stared at the spot he’d last seen the little bug, knowing and hating she was right. He was an asshole. But that wasn’t a shock.
He leaned against the car, considering the kiss and the friction it had churned inside him. It had a dizzying effect on his senses, as tendrils of desire—warm and delicious—spiraled through him, filling him with lust. He frowned. Not lust. It had been more powerful than that, more like an ache, a longing. Hunger. His desire had been the physical kind any man felt. He’d wanted to rip her clothes off and take her like a man, a normal man with normal desires, and not the desire to take her soul.
Now that was a shock.
Keeping one hand on the small of Natalie’s back, William practically shoved her out the door. He wanted to kill the little bug. What the hell was she thinking, coming to see a rogue secucro? A dangerous secucro whose anger had swirled on his tongue like flames, nearly dousing her desire to hurt them. Sure, he’d gone through his own rage stage in those early days, but Danny was obviously free. What did she have to be angry about? And why was she angry at them?
He ignored the rain when they hit the sidewalk. He yanked Natalie to a stop as she headed for her car. “Don’t ever come back here, Bug.”
She swung around and faced him. “First, quit calling me a bug. Second, you have no right to tell me what to do. And third, I don’t have to listen to a damn thing you say. Are we clear?”
“As clear as Danny wanting to rip your soul out. Didn’t you know she was a secucro?”
“Well, duh, I’m not stupid. So what?”
“Because she’s a rogue. She steals souls.”
Her anger cooled as she sucked on her lip ring.
“You can’t go back there,” he said in a softer tone.
“I’ve been there a dozen times. She’s fine.”
“There’s something wrong with her. She wanted to hurt you.” To his horror, he sounded anxious. He cracked his knuckles. While he didn’t really like Natalie, he didn’t want to see her hurt, or dead.
“What set her off? You?”
He shrugged.
“How am I supposed to tell if someone’s a rogue?”
“Good question.”
How could a human tell the difference? They couldn’t. The rain increased, and his wet collar felt cold against his neck. Shivering, he took her by the elbow and steered her to her car.
Once inside, the humid air swirled around him, mixing with the close scent of nectarines and vanilla. Rubbing his chin, he said, “Didn’t you say you could smell grapes around me?"
She started the car and was surprisingly cautious as she checked her mirror before navigating into the street. “Yeah. Danny and Christian smell the same way, though it’s fainter with your nephew and stronger with Danny. I thought it was a secucron thing.”
“Not all secucron.”
His statement hung in the air between them.
“Rogues?”
He nodded.
“You’re a rogue.”
His chest pinched at how young her voice sounded. She was going to run. They all ran. Of course, not that he cared. It would certainly be easier on his ears.
“Do you want my soul?”
Rather than answer, he asked, “You want to break our deal and make a run for it?”
She one-shoulder shrugged, then slammed on the brakes when the light ahead turned red. The seatbelt bit into his shoulder as he was thrown forward. A man in the crosswalk gave her the finger, a favor she returned.
“How do I know you won’t steal my soul?”
“Don’t insult me. If I was going to take your soul, I’d have done it already.”
“Well, excu—u-use me.” She drew out the word in a sarcastic tone.
“Lucky for you, I’m kicking the habit.” He felt good saying it.
Staring through the windshield, she asked, “What are you doing to kick the habit?”
He grinned, but it felt weak, the smile barely hitting his lips. “Pure souls are hot, and their warmth is addicting. Drinking lots of hot coffee helps.”
“Huh, that doesn’t sound very helpful. What else?”
“Soul-hits, though I can’t seem to get enough of them.”
“What are those?”
“A soul-hit is a shot of Giltine’s poison when we reap.”
She gasped. “She poisons you?”
“It’s a poison we need to survive. What’s your favorite food?”
“Chocolate.”
“It’s like getting shots of chocolate. Hot, gooey, melted chocolate.”
“That sounds better.” She licked her lips.
“The best thing? Orgasms.” He linked his hands behind his head and smirked. “How about doing a friend a solid and, well, doing me?”
“Nice try, Old Man.”
“Can’t blame a guy.”
She rolled her eyes. “What happens to stolen souls?”
“They cease to exist.”
“Don’t all the dead?”
“There is an afterlife, whether it be good or bad it’s there. Stolen souls don't get an afterlife though. They’re aware but can’t see or hear or speak. They’re just nothing, floating in a darkness so complete and frigid it’s claustrophobic.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad, especially considering one of the alternatives.” She pointed downward to emphasize her meaning.
“Trust me, it is,” he murmured.
“How do you know?”
“You get a sense of it when you travel between worlds. We call it the abyss. The darkness is confining, the fear suffocating. The soul is left starving and dehydrated. I imagine eternity in the abyss would drive someone totally insane.”
“How long has it been since you stole a soul?”
“Decades.” Why did they have to talk about this now? He was already jonesing for more soul-hits. Frowning, he plucked the rubber band.
“That doesn’t make sense. You said the rubber band kept me safe. If you haven’t done anything in so long, what’s the rubber band for?”
He shifted in his seat, her steady gaze raising the hair on the back of his neck, as though she could see inside his soul.
“Why do you feel guilty?”
He stared straight ahead. “The light’s green.”
She turned back to the road and stomped on the gas, quiet as she worked on her lip ring. He rubbed a thumb over the band on his wrist, feeling the welts beneath. How the devil could she know what he was feeling? He studied her from the corner of his eye. She had reaper blood in her veins; could she taste emotions like he could?
“What makes you think I feel guilty?”
“Woman’s intuition? I don’t know, really, I just have a knack for knowing what other people are feeling. It’s a gift.”
“And do you have other gifts?”
She flicked a sideways glance at him before answering. “Nope. Of course, I can’t tell what people are thinking, just a faint sense of what they’re feeling, almost like I can taste it, though I’m not even sure I know what I’m feeling or sensing, sometimes it’s a blur, or so faint it’s hard to tell. Not like you, you seem to be able to tell everything. All cut and dry.”
She stopped to clear her throat. What a nervous little thing. While she wasn’t outright lying, William knew she was hiding something. She swallowed, and for a moment he was mesmerized by her smooth neck. A neck he could kiss and lick and nibble and . . .
Feeling the heat building, he blinked and snapped his rubber band. “How come you never asked Danny to help you?”
She glanced at his wrist before meeting his eyes and then turning back to the road. “I did. She turned me down. Where should I drop you off?”
“Anywhere. It doesn’t matter.”
“Don’t you have a place to stay, um, up here?”
“It’s not allowed. Just park where you normally park and I’ll go from there.”
She gasped, patted her chest, and batted her lashes. “And let you know where I live?”
He smirked. “I already know.”
Her eyes widened. “How?”
He wasn’t about to tell her he’d followed her after the party to make sure she got home safely. She might get the wrong idea and think he cared. But the way Derek had ogled her had set his teeth on edge. “I have my ways.”
“Are you stalking me?”
“I don’t even like you.”
“Hey, the feeling’s mutual, Old Man.”
The rain stopped, and her windshield wipers squeaked against the glass. She didn’t bother turning them off as she steered into the parking lot of her apartment building, found what had to be the tightest spot there, and then manhandled her car between two newer models. William braced himself for the sound of crunching metal, but she turned off the car, amazingly dent-free.
The queasy trembles were back, his head swimming with the need for a soul-hit. He checked his watch. Nearly 8:30. Plenty of time for a couple of soul-hits before he had to haul ass back to the Other World. He sighed.
He really needed to uphold his end of the bargain and start searching for her sister, even though what he really wanted to do was hit a bar. Looked like he’d have to wait a whole month for his I.D. He scowled at the thought. Something was off with Danny, and he still had no idea who she was. Maybe he’d hooked up with her and never called. There were a few decades in his past that were mostly a blur.
“Nice watch.”
Pulling his sleeve back down, he said, “Thanks. It’s new.”
She turned in her seat. “What’s our plan?”
“There is no our plan.”
“If you think I’m going to just sit back and wait like an obedient Geisha Girl you’re sadly mistaken.”
“You’re going to sit back like an obedient Geisha Girl, and I’m working on it.”
“That’s what you think. Do you have any leads?”
“No.”
She leaned against the door, scrunching her lips into a dissatisfied look. A sparkling skull hung from her keychain, which she turned in her fingers. “What have you done so far to find her?”
Exiting the car, he stretched his cramped muscles. “I don’t have time for twenty questions. I have shit to do.”
Rounding the rear bumper, she planted herself in front of him, hands on her hips and a glare to match a hell hound’s fiery gaze. “And I don’t have time to get dicked around.”
“Don’t worry doll. I got it covered.”
“You’re lying.”
“Prove it.”
“I can’t.”
He lifted his hands. “I win.”
“You better hold up your end of the bargain.”
“Naturally. We demons take our bargains very seriously.”
“I want a progress report every night.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“And if I don’t?”
“I tell Danny to rip up that I.D. Your picture probably sucks anyway, what with your ugly face.”
He ground his teeth. This woman was testing his patience. No one told him what to do, except Giltine. “I’m pretty sure I hate you more by the minute.”
She shrugged. “Now you know how I feel.”
Natalie was proving more trouble than an I.D. was worth. He couldn’t deal with her and her mouth, pretty as it was. Not to mention she was irritatingly nosy. He should never have agreed to help her. “Forget the whole thing. I’m sure Derek’s got connections.”
“Whatever you say.” Turning, she opened the car door and slid inside.
“Where are you going?”
“To talk to Danny and get my money back.”
In a flash, he was yanking her out of the seat and slamming the door shut. Shoving her against the car, he leaned over her. “I told you not to go back there.”
“Our deal is off, and I can do whatever the hell I want. And I want to go see Danny and get my money back. You can leave now.”
William slammed his hand against the car, making her flinch. Her heart pounded against his upper abdomen, and her eyes dilated as she stared at him.
He could barely squeeze the words past his grinding teeth. “Don’t. Go. Back. There. She’s dangerous.”
“And you’re paranoid. What do you care anyway?”
“I don’t care.”
“Then fuck off and leave me alone.”
Her eyes glistened. Hell no. She better not cry.
Instead she lifted her chin. “Maybe if I pay Danny enough, she’ll help me.”
Gods below, the woman was trying to get killed. And if Danny didn’t do it, he just might. “No, you won’t.”
“Just try and stop me.”
“That’s it!” William snapped. “You win. I’ll be back tomorrow night with a progress report.”
“Thank you.”
A lone tear finally made its escape. Before he could stop himself, he traced a finger along her cheek, following the damp path. Her skin felt like satin against his rough hands. Her eyes widened as she peeked at him through her wet lashes, her lips parting as her breathing escalated.
William’s heart beat matched her pace, echoing inside his head. Brushing a lock of hair from her eyes, he let his fingers run through the soft strands. He wanted to taste those rosy lips again, see if they were as sweet now as they’d been when he was wasted. Her nectarine scent clouded his judgment as he slowly bent toward her.
Heat tightened his groin as he worked her lips before sliding his tongue inside to claim hers. As before, he was met with wintergreen, sweet and fresh and intoxicating. She met him thrust for thrust as her hands sought his neck. Deepening the kiss, he pressed her against the car, molding her against him.
Slipping a hand beneath her shirt, he cupped her breast, letting the fullness fill his palm and cursing the bra that barred access to flesh. He massaged it for a moment before circling a nipple with his thumb until it hardened. When he pinched the pebble, she gasped, pressing herself more firmly against his hand.
When the tension in his jeans became too painful to ignore, he withdrew. He wanted to become lost inside her, both physically and emotionally.
Both breathing heavily, they stared at each other.
“I thought you didn’t like me,” she whispered.
“I don’t.” He blinked at the huskiness in his voice. Her warm breath against his lips made his heart flutter. The damned fluttering! What was his problem?
“Then what’s that?” She pushed her hip against his erection.
He held back a groan. Time to stop his body’s reaction to her scent, curves, and lips. He would not get swept up in the heat of the moment, and he would not get burned. Physical attraction or not, he needed to make sure she understood there was no way he’d ever like her.
He let a smirk lift one corner of his lips. “Just because my dick likes you doesn’t mean the rest of me does. It’s a guy thing.”
The desire slowly drained from her face. “Asshole.” She shoved her hands against his chest, moving him back enough to stomp past him.
She called over her shoulder, “Meet me here tomorrow night, eight-thirty sharp, and your ass better not be late.”
“Fine, but you bring the coffee,” he called back.
Flipping him the bird, she disappeared around a corner. His cocky attitude vanished. Not particularly liking himself, the heat inside him was replaced by a chill. Cracking his knuckles, he stared at the spot he’d last seen the little bug, knowing and hating she was right. He was an asshole. But that wasn’t a shock.
He leaned against the car, considering the kiss and the friction it had churned inside him. It had a dizzying effect on his senses, as tendrils of desire—warm and delicious—spiraled through him, filling him with lust. He frowned. Not lust. It had been more powerful than that, more like an ache, a longing. Hunger. His desire had been the physical kind any man felt. He’d wanted to rip her clothes off and take her like a man, a normal man with normal desires, and not the desire to take her soul.
Now that was a shock.