Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Ebony Landry was aware from a very young age that she was missing a vital part of herself, and society made sure she never forgot it. She also knew that, unlike most of the others in the halfling district of LA, she had a soulsister out there. The likelihood of two soulmates who were unable to find each other, both having children with other fullsouls was slim, and so most halflings never even had the chance to find their other half and try to win a soulbattle.

When she was five, she'd felt it, a sudden burning in her heart. She'd thought she was having a heart attack, and being a little on the hypochondriac side, she'd made her mother take her to see a doctor even though they could barely afford to feed themselves. The doctor had acted like he was giving them wonderful news when he explained that the burning sensation was an indication that Ebony had a soulsister out there.

No one talked about the kind of pressure that puts on you, what kind of torture you put yourself through thinking of taking another life, the kind of fear you live with knowing someone else could be coming for you at any time.

Everyone thought she was so lucky.

She was supposed to feel blessed that she had the chance to kill. That she had hope of one day being whole and accepted in the upper class. Until recently, she hadn't been tempted at all to go find her soulsister.

That's what had brought her here tonight, that's why she was standing in this low-lit office, waiting for this man to consider her desperate plea. She was out of time, and he was her best hope.

"Ebony Landry?" Lark Duport asked with a raised eyebrow.

She nodded nervously; her future hung on his next words.

He sat behind a huge mahogany desk in a plush leather chair. The room smelled of sweet tobacco and dust, the scent unfamiliar but not unpleasant. There were bookcases along two walls filled with more books than she'd ever seen in her life, more books than there were in the entire halfling district, she thought. What could someone like him be doing with so many books? He looked like the type who was mostly interested in smashing things with his fists, not sitting down to read the lives and adventures of others. She wondered what kinds of books they were, did he read history or fantasy? Was he a poet at heart? She almost laughed at the thought, the guy looked like he preferred violent physical expressions, not verbal. The books were more likely just a decorative element, not actually something he indulged in, during his free time.

She had always loved to read, had read everything she could get her hands on as soon as she'd learned how to. Unfortunately, halflings were schooled by whoever in the community was best suited to a subject and mostly done without supplies like extra for fun books. She was willing to bet this man had learned in a proper school with everything available to him. He'd likely grown up in a house filled with everything his little heart could have desired and spoiled rotten by two parents with great jobs and every opportunity to offer their son.

She grew up with half portions of rations allotted to her by the government and whatever small amounts of food and necessities her mother could buy with her earnings as a waitress. It hadn't been a bad life, it certainly could have been worse, she could have grown up in the orphanage where many halflings were abandoned to try and cover up their parents' indiscretion.

Ebony had grown up with her mother who loved her deeply and who had reminded her every day that Ebony was as good as anyone else, no matter what the government said.

Lark's eyes assessed her critically and she had to stop herself from crossing her arms nervously.

She'd put on her nicest T-shirt for this meeting and despite the cool night, had left her jacket behind; it was far too past its prime. Now she regretted having nothing to hold around herself as she stood before the man feeling exposed. But she tried to keep her mother's words in her head and dared to meet his gaze with her own.

She may live in a one-bedroom home in the halfling district of LA, but she wasn't trash.

She held her head high and bit her cheek as she faced him. She tucked a lock of black hair behind an ear as an excuse to move. She'd never felt so seen and it made her want to fidget, to fix and try to be something more than she was. She didn't wear much makeup usually, but she'd put a little on for this and her hair was loose and clean around her shoulders. She knew she looked fine, she wasn't trying to date the guy, just hire him. That reality wasn't enough to stop the feelings of inadequacy however, as she looked across the obviously expensive desk at the dangerous man that she needed to help her.

The curtains were drawn over the windows keeping his face mostly in shadow, but his eyes were the bright green of a fullsoul. The cool night air drifted in, this was a pretty nice part of town and she couldn't even smell the river here, it made her uncomfortable. This was the air that fullsouls breathed, it wasn't meant for her, and on the walk from the bus station she'd felt like everyone she passed could see it when they looked at her in her worn jeans and dirty shoes.

Lark would gather just as many looks, she was sure, but for a different reason, he was sexy as hell. Even she could admit it, despite the fact that she tried very hard not to recognize such things in others, it led down a path that destroyed so many. Some called halflings lust-babies; implying that their mother had been an idiot or a slut. You were only born with a half soul if your parents were not soulmates and the government wanted everyone to believe that sleeping with someone who wasn't your soulmate was sinful.

Ebony didn't take the suppressants that so many did, had never felt the need. She knew she would never risk pregnancy for a few moments of pleasure that she could give herself safely on her own.

But Lark Duport's dark looks intrigued her, and she couldn't help studying him as he considered her proposition.

He had dark hair, long enough to get messy but not long enough to look unprofessional. He had a dark stubble on his chin and his lips curved slightly while he took his time looking her up and down again. His skin was darkened by the sun and if she had to guess, she'd say he was in his late thirties. He was dressed in all black; jeans and T-shirt, fitted enough to show off lots of muscles and his arms were covered in tattoos that she wished she could get a closer look at. He had a scar on his neck that started at his right ear and ran across his chest and below the V-neck of his shirt, she couldn't help following the line with her eye and bit her lip when she caught a hint of a hard nipple there.

"You don't have enough money," Lark finally said.

"I was told five," Ebony insisted, panic tightening her throat. This was her only chance.

He shrugged and leaned back in his chair, sliding his hands behind his head dismissively. "You were told wrong; I don't take jobs for less than eight anymore. Things have gotten a little more dangerous lately and I'm very good at what I do."

"I don't have eight. You can't imagine what I had to do for five," she grumbled as all her hopes collapsed inside of her.

"With a face and body like that, I can imagine," he said with a grunt.

Heat erupted on her face, and she glared. How dare he insinuate that she was a whore? She pushed the money that she'd scrubbed toilets for and starved herself for, across the desk at him. "I need you to find her," Ebony demanded.

He looked at her with a cocked eyebrow that did something unfamiliar to her stomach. But he did not seem impressed with what he saw before him. "You have what it takes to kill?" he asked doubtfully. "You look like you can barely carry your own weight around. You are better off hoping your soulsister never finds you," he said with a frown.

Ebony stiffened and resisted wrapping her arms protectively around her thin body. "It doesn't matter," she said quietly and met his green gaze with her own dull blue eyes. Why did he care anyway? His job wasn't to guarantee her a win, it was to find her soulsibling.

He raised an eyebrow and he assessed her again with a smirk, this time there was a hint of curiosity that she could only hope would get him to change his mind.

Self-conscious under his scrutiny, she clenched her teeth and fisted her hands so she wouldn't touch her hair again. Her gaze was drawn to his mouth, and she found herself wondering things she'd never wondered about someone before. Things like, what would those lips feel like pressed against hers, what would they feel like on her neck or her wrist? She shuddered at the images and scolded herself. Rumor had it he wasn't just a searcher, but he was a fullsoul who didn't take libido suppressants.

Taylor had warned her not to fall for his charms, they were epic, or so she was told. Taylor had never met the man either, but rumors of him flowed through the halfling community as if spoken about a superhero or a god perhaps. Ebony could see why, just looking at him was making her feel things she thought she'd been born without.

He stood smoothly, his chair sliding back with a low scrape. She was pulled from her lecherous thoughts as he towered over her. He had to be over six feet.

"Doesn't matter?" he asked, a new gruffness in his voice. "You want the benefits, the improved health, the place in the upper class, you want the better job and a full ration? You want to find your soulmate and have little fullsoul babies and get the rich rewards from the government?" He paused but she didn't say anything, "Then it matters," he continued.

"I am not paying you to ask questions or judge the results," she said with surprisingly little shake to her voice. He was very intimidating.

He put his hands on his trim waist and she flicked her gaze down, then immediately back up, embarrassed to note the tight pants and obvious bulge. He was the kind of dream that would have a girl waking up shivering with orgasm.

"You aren't paying me for anything, darling. I don't search for less than eight anymore no matter how cute the client. Now, unless you want to work off the other three with that delicious little body, I suggest you leave."

The laughter behind her made her back stiffen and her resolve tighten.

"If you succeed, I can get you more," she said firmly, knowing it was a lie but also knowing it wouldn't matter in the end.

"Bullshit," the man behind her spat, one of the searcher's lackeys. He was just as large, just as intimidating too, but she ignored him.

"There is no if . It's an almost guarantee, that's why I charge what I do, it's why you're here isn't it? I'm the best," Lark said darkly. "You expect me to believe you can give me more after, when you say you can barely afford five? Do I look like an idiot? Even when you're newly souled you'll have a hard time making a quick three grand. It's not like the soul comes with education or job qualifications. Just the opportunity to get those things." He leaned forward slightly and she had to stiffen her body to keep from stepping back. "Just because something is within reach of your social rung, doesn't mean you'll have the balls to grab it, or the brains to keep it." He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. "You don't even live in the halfling neighborhood within the city proper, so that means you don't have a fullsoul parent with money and connections. Are you an orphan?"

"I grew up in the halfling district, my mother was orphaned as a teen," which was probably what drove her mother into the arms of Ebony's father at seventeen, "it is all she could afford."

"But you expect me to believe you'll have the money after? And that you'll win the battle?" His eyes swept over her again, full of doubt. "You must also think your soulmate is just around the corner, and rich, too." The way he said it was telling. How many people had he helped and how many had been disappointed with the ultimate result? Ebony had never known anyone who'd become a fullsoul; but she couldn't imagine it not solving every problem she had.

"Yes, that's what I expect you to believe," she said with a confidence she didn't know she had.

"With no explanation? I just have to hope you're right?" he said with a touch of amusement now in his voice that surprised her.

"Yes," she said. If he challenged her on it, she might break down and tell him why she was doing this, but it was none of his business and she doubted it would help her case.

His eyes narrowed and she thought he was about to kick her out, but then he started to laugh, shocking her with the deep rumble of it. It filled the room. "Lark, at your service, sweetheart," he said with a grin that did little to detract from the air of danger he projected. "If for no other reason than to see you through to the mysterious reasons, and find out where your confidence comes from, I'll take you on for five."

She reacted slowly, reaching to take his outstretched hand, a little lightheaded with the shock of his agreement. She couldn't believe this was actually going to happen, it scared the shit out of her, if she were being honest.

When his palm touched hers, it was like an electric shock, a bolt of hot lightning rushed through her body. She gasped, eyes wide and mouth gaping. What the hell was that?

"Fuck," he hissed and pulled his hand away so fast he almost took her down with it. "Get out," he ordered as she wobbled to keep her footing.

Her mind reeled at the sudden change of attitude. "What?"

"I changed my mind. Get out." He took a step back, as if he couldn't stand being near her.

"But—"

"Now!" he bellowed and leaned over the desk, green eyes flashing, his big hands fisted, and she feared he was barely holding back from grabbing her and tearing her apart.

Large hands grabbed her from behind, his blond lackey taking her from the room and before she knew it, before she could demand answers or beg for another chance, she was dropped on her ass in the street.

Small hands were on her in seconds.

"Oh my god, are you okay, Ebony?" Taylor shouted.

Ebony huffed and stood, brushing the dirt of the street off the back of her as shame and betrayal flared inside of her. "I'm okay, Taylor, thanks," she whispered, barely holding back tears.

Her friend's eyes assessed her quickly and decided she was physically fine and that the meeting had not gone in Ebony's favor. "Was he as hot as everyone says?" she asked with a wink to cheer Ebony up. "That one who just threw you out was damn cute."

"Lark was intriguing, though not really my type." It was a lie; he was hot as fuck and had attracted her like no one ever had before. Not that it mattered, he was an asshole and she'd never be attracted to that.

"Yeah right, as if you have a type. I think you were born without a libido," Taylor teased. "Maybe your soulsister got that half."

Ebony ignored the jibe as usual. She definitely had a libido, and for the first time, she wondered what it would be like to break that law, to give in to lust. It wasn't just illegal to have sex, it was dangerous, depending on your beliefs about nosouls, and she'd never been much of a risk taker.

Taylor was patiently waiting for an explanation, and Ebony frowned. "He turned me down, apparently it's eight now."

"Eight! Who the hell can afford eight? Halflings can't make that in three years of starving and saving."

"Right, so let's get out of here." Ebony glanced behind her at the large brick building she'd been thrown out of. A light flicked on upstairs, and a broad-shouldered figure stood there watching. Somehow, she knew it was Lark and a shiver of something unfamiliar crawled up her spine. "This place creeps me out."

"It's a nice neighborhood," Taylor said with a frown, not understanding Ebony's rush. "A few lucky halflings live around here I think."

"Not us, let's go." Ebony grabbed her friend's hand and pulled her down the street toward the bus station. Was he watching to make sure she left? Was he worried she was going to come back in begging for his help?

She hoped to never see the asshole again.

And the weight of hope leaving her body started to crush her. What was she going to do now?