Page 2 of A Soul’s Awakening

“Theo, I have a bad feeling about this place. Something’s off.” Jacob’s gaze nervously darted around the street.

I had felt this discomfort for the past few weeks, that unease of someone eyeing me from the shadows. Caspian’s magic was stirring in the pit of my stomach, wary and alert. It had been doing that frequently since the man’s dying act was to forcefully pass it onto me. He’d said to me once that it was sentient, that it had a mind of its own … and I was starting to believe him. It didn’t just react. It noticed, and it pressed against my ribs now, coiling tighter, like it had already found something in the dark and didn’t like what it saw.

The two-story house was more modern looking than most Salem homes, with faded gray siding and symmetrical windows placed throughout the boxy structure. Set close to the sidewalk and sandwiched between two other buildings, there wasn’t much of a lawn, but a few dead potted plants lined the stairs leading up to the bright red front door.

I exhaled a deep breath, walking up the few steps to ring the doorbell. The weak porch light flipped on, and the door slowly opened, the shadowy figure appearing behind it. I stood there holding the cardboard box in silence, awaiting further instructions.

“You got what I asked for?”

I couldn’t fully see the man, but I knew he was tall. His voice came low through the narrow gap, deep and gravelly like he had something stuck in his throat. The door stayed barely open, just enough for one eye and the edge of his face to catch the weak porch light. Everything else was swallowed in shadow.

“Yeah,” I said, pushing the box toward him. “Large, extra—”

“Hold it up to me.”

Panic rippled down my spine. The words weren’t rude. They were precise.

I hesitated for half a second before raising the box and the bag to the crack in the door. The man leaned closer, his gaze dragging over it, then past it. It lingered somewhere around my hands, my chest. Not looking at the food, but looking at me.

That prickle along my spine sharpened. Behind me, Jacob shifted, barely audible, but I felt the tension snap tight between us.

The man inhaled slowly, like he was testing the air. “You didn’t come alone. It doesn’t take two people to deliver a pizza.”

“He transported me here,” I said, a little too quickly. Jacob huffed behind me, and I realized I overshared. Even if he wasn’t using his magic illegally, it wasn’t something to flaunt around. There were dangerous people in the Nether who wouldn’t hesitate to get their hands on it themselves.

Silence stretched. It was late evening, the streets blanketed in darkness even though it was barely six. The man shifted behind the door. Something in the shadows seemed to move with him, but not quite matching his movements. For a split second, I could have sworn there was more than one set of eyes staring out from the dark. Then he stepped forward, blocking the gap, and it was gone.

Caspian’s magic twisted hard in my gut. The door creaked wider.

His hand slid into view first, long fingers curling around the edge of the door as he pulled it open just enough for the light to catch him properly. Pale skin. So many scars I couldn’t tell where one ended and another started.

And then I saw it. A black ring, smooth and unmarked, wrapped around his slender finger like it had grown there. I nearly dropped the pizza and bolted.

Caspian’s magic surged, violent and immediate, slamming against my ribs like it was trying to drag me backward.

Rift warden. This man who requested a death potion and a pepperoni pizza from me … was a fucking rift warden.

“You can call me Leo.”

My grip tightened on the box, pulse spiking so hard it blurred the edges of my vision.

Don’t react. Don’t run, I warned myself. But the way his gaze snapped back to mine as he silently invited me inside told me it was already too late.

2

The man stood there in the entryway, waiting for me to move. The inside of the house was lit, but barely. A weak, yellow glow bled from somewhere deeper in, not enough to fill the space so much as stain it.

Everything about this felt wrong, but I stepped inside anyway. Jacob slipped in behind me, the door clicking shut with a quiet finality that made something in my chest tighten.

The entryway opened into a narrow living room that stretched longer than it should have, the proportions just slightly off. Furniture sat in deliberate placement—a couch facing a blank wall, a table too centered, nothing out of line. No clutter. No life. Up close, the stillness wasn’t natural. It felt enforced.

“Follow me.” Leo guided us down the hallway, the walls pressing in just enough to make me aware of every breath. Closed doors lined one side, no light beneath them. The other wall held framed pictures, but the glass warped the dim light, turning every glance into a distorted reflection. Nothing in this place wanted to be clearly seen.

Caspian’s magic stirred low in my gut as the man stopped at a door off to the side and pushed it open. It was an office, or at least something pretending to be. A desk sat at the center, too clean, too precise. Papers were stacked in perfect alignment. Bookshelves lined the walls, but the titles blurred if I looked too long, like they didn’t want to be read. A single lamp cast that same sickly glow, leaving the edges of the room to dissolve into shadow.

“Theo …” Jacob whispered from behind me. His hand grazed my arm, ready to transport us out of there, but I shook my head. I was too invested in this to leave now. Rift wardens were a wealth of knowledge, patrolling the streets day in and out. If anyone had come across a living demon entering the underworld at some point, this guy would know.

I stepped forward and set the pizza box on the desk. Leo opened the bag on top of it, ignoring the warm waft of garlic that assaulted the air, and plucked the amber bottle from within.