The Mammoth Book of Paranormal Romance

wearing and brought something out of it. He opened his fingers and there, sitting in his palm, was a glittering ball of faint white light, marred by tendrils of black cracks manifested over its crystalline surface.
    “No,” Kyle protested, though it was little more than a whisper. He glared at Kihirin. “She was an innocent. Her soul ascended. Do not think I do not know the extent to which you will go for your amusement, Kihirin.”
    Katrina could only watch in horror. Was that really a soul she was seeing? It didn’t look like she expected it to. It was quite small, and almost ordinary looking. It looked so sad and vulnerable all on its own.
    “Well, it is not as pure as it once was after having been tortured for all this time. I can see why you wanted it for yourself,” Kihirin said, laughing again. “Why you kept it from Father. You always did find it difficult to obey without proper motivation. When you came back unsuccessful . . . you, Lord General ...” Kihirin tsked and shook his head, then held the ball of light out to Kyle. “I have kept her all this time for you, Lord General, so that when you regained your senses and remembered your loyalties you would have it to present to Father, so you could reclaim your place. I assure you, it is hers.”
    A mournful cry, like the screech of an improperly rosined bow over taut violin strings, reached Katrina’s ears. The sound of it dropped Kyle to his knees.
    “Catrine . . .” Kyle said, choking on the name.
    Kihirin crouched down before him. “Return with me,” Kihirin urged. “Present this to Father as you should have done before. Humble yourself before him, and he might even allow you to atone using her—”
    Kyle flung Kihirin against the fountain monument with such force that the soul in Kihirin’s hand fell to the ground at the base of Catrine’s grave.
    Kihirin’s mortal eyes widened. Kyle stood over him, looking down mercilessly. Even as a lost soul, he was still more of a demon than Kihirin could ever hope to be.
    Kyle roared an unintelligible word, banishing Kihirin from using the means to manifest here ever again. Then he knelt to look down at the abandoned soul Kihirin had left behind. But before he could touch it, the ball of light changed and took something of a transparent form before him.
    It was fleeting, but Katrina saw the form reach to touch Kyle’s face before disappearing entirely.
    It was all Katrina could do to choke back the sob in her throat. It wasn’t enough, however, and attracted Kyle’s attention.
    Kyle glanced at Katrina. Her cheeks were wet as he came to help her stand. He reached for her arm and righted her. She yelped again as his touch made her aware of her injury. Kyle held her wrist with one hand as he passed his other hand over her wound. It healed instantly.
    “Are you all right?”
    It was the first time in a long time that Katrina had felt gentleness and genuine warmth in Kyle’s touch. She pulled back to look at him.
    Even without a soul, Kyle’s presence was formidable. What must it have been like when he was whole?
    “That was her, wasn’t it?” Katrina asked softly. “He wasn’t lying to you. He had her, all this time.”
    Kyle nodded absently as his eyes strayed to the empty place where Catrine’s soul had stood for a moment.
    “Now that she’s free, she can return to you,” Katrina said, her eyes sparkling. “Sure, she’ll have to be born again and you’ll have to find her again and all that, but she’ll come back to you, I know it! Don’t look so unhappy. This is a wonderful thing!”
    Kyle looked up at the heavens. Then he cocked his head to one side and slowly turned to gaze at Katrina. He could sense that she wanted to ask a question. He tried to hide his smile.
    Katrina suddenly felt warm - too warm for the winter coat she had on.
    “Kyle, um, you wouldn’t really have—” she looked up at him, meeting his pale ethereal eyes “—given your dad Catrine’s soul . . .”
    Kyle lifted her chin with a crooked finger.
    “. . . if he’d asked for it . . .”
    He smiled slightly.
    “... would you?”
    The heat creeping up her neck was starting to become oppressive. She opened her coat and fanned the collar a moment, trying to cool herself slightly. She felt like she was being slowly strangled.
    Kyle didn’t reply. He simply studied her, looking deep into her eyes.
    She smiled at him, waiting, but still he said nothing. Not even a hint of a wry smile, no arched, derisive