Free The Banshee's Embrace by Victoria Richards

her? And what are you exactly?"
                  "I am…" the voice paused and then announced with flourish, "the Keeper of Souls!"
                  Toby let the silence grow, not sure what to say.
                  "Did you not hear me?" the voice hissed again. "I'm the Keeper of Souls!"
                  "Oh, yeah. I heard you. Good for you."
                  "You think it's clever to be blasé, don't you boy?" The voice pressed to his ear. "But you know what, I'm the only friend you'll find in this place. I'm the only one who knows what's what. You better be nice to me."
                  "I meant no offense." Toby made his voice more humble than he felt. "It's just that I'm a little on edge. I can't see anything, including you. I don't suppose you can do anything about that?"
                  "I could if wanted to," the voice laughed. "But why would I want to?"
                  "I like to see who I'm making deals with."
                  There was a soft, rustling sound, and then a green light glowed around Toby. It hurt his eyes at first, but after a moment he grew accustomed to it and was able to see the figure giving off the light.
                  It was a young man.
                  He blinked and gave Toby a wide smile. Dressed in jeans and a gray T-shirt, he had allowed his brown hair to grow shaggy and wild. But it was the eyes that captured Toby's interest. They sparkled with mischievousness.
                  "How do I look?" the man asked.
                  "A little younger than I expected," Toby admitted, narrowing his eyes. "Is this your true form?"
                  "No, but you can't handle that. No one can."
                  "Do you look the same way for everyone?"
                  "No. I take on the shape that would be most pleasing for the one I reveal myself too."
                  "Why this shape for me?"
                  "Because this how your own son would have looked had he lived."
                  Toby sucked in his breath. He hadn't ever told anyone about his son. Not even his own family--not that they would have cared. If Trevor had lived, he would have been about twenty now. He pushed the pain of that realization away and focused on the boy before him.
                  "So you're the Keeper of Souls." Toby crossed his arms. "And what is your job exactly?"
                  "Uh…I keep souls. I sort of think the answer to that question is in the job title." 
                  "How long have you been doing this?"
                  "Several centuries. I think the last time I saw the real world it was around 1616."
                  Toby gave a low whistle. "Wow. You've missed a lot."
                  "Not really. I have my ways of connecting with the outside world." The man smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "When I drain a soul, I get a glimpse of their life. It allows me to keep current with the times."
                  "Drain a soul?"
                  "Oh yeah. Whoever controls the box traps the souls in here, and then it's my job to punish them."
                  "I don't understand."
                  "You aren't exactly the brightest wizard around, are you?" The man shook his head. "Look, my family comes from a long Irish ancestry. That means we've got a lot of bad blood, a lot of enemies that need to be punished. The Keeper of the Box finds these enemies, sucks their soul into the void, and then it's my job to torture them."
                  "How did you get this job?"
                  "Every 500 years, there is one person in our family who is the lucky one destined to do the job. It was my turn."
                  "That sucks," Toby