Free Soul Deep: Dark Souls, Book 2 by Anne Hope Page B

Convinced she was hallucinating, Regan blinked. When she opened her eyes, the apparition was gone, but this manifestation—whether real or imagined—had chased away her panic long enough to focus her mind. Suddenly, she knew what she had to do.
    Turning sideways, she gripped Ben’s fingers with one hand and Marcus’s with the other. Gathering her strength, she dug deep and channeled all her energy into this one moment. She drew strength from them, found solace in the thrumming heat of their palms against hers. For one glorious instant, she experienced something she’d never experienced before—wholeness, completeness, an absolute certainty that there was a tiny corner in the world where she actually belonged.
    The road shivered. The sky above them fluttered like a waterfall. Sunlight cut a swath through the vehicle, seconds before darkness swept in to swallow them.
    When the Watchers finally surrounded the Jeep, it was empty.
     
     
    Marcus withdrew his dagger and thrashed at the unexpected network of trees that sprang up to enclose him. One second he was sitting in the Jeep, clutching Regan’s hand, readying himself for battle, and the next he found himself alone in the neighboring woods.
    What the hell had happened? And where were Regan and Ben? He scanned the untamed forest and tried to situate himself. Clusters of spindly hemlocks and towering Douglas firs blocked the sky, shielding the sun from his view. A soft haze hovered in the air, giving the place a surreal glow.
    “Regan?” He chopped away at the branches, cut a rough path through the interlaced trees. A few errant beams of light trembled up ahead, and he assumed he was walking east. “Answer me, damn it. Where are you?”
    Twigs cracked beneath the thick soles of his construction boots as damp shadows gathered around him. How had he gotten here? What had happened to the road, to the assembly of vehicles idling upon it? Where had all the Watchers gone?
    A moan resonated from the distant trees, made loud by the surrounding stillness. Marcus doubled his efforts, desperately hacking away at branches and twigs, carving a ragged trail toward the sound.
    “Regan?”
    “Over here.”
    He found her curled at the base of a moss-covered oak, pale and spent, perspiration beading on her forehead. Concern tangled his gut as he plowed toward her and dropped to his knees. “You all right?” He raised his palm to her cheek, cradling her cool, clammy face.
    She leaned into his touch, soothed by it. “I am now.”
    “What happened back there, Regan? How’d we get here?”
    Her honeyed gaze latched on to his, making an odd warmth pool in his chest. “I folded space, brought you all with me. Now I’m so damn weak, I could probably sleep for a month.”
    His hand fell away. She couldn’t have jolted him more had she physically struck him. “How? You’ve never managed to do that before.” When he’d first trained her, he’d spent weeks trying to get her to extend her skill to others. Not once had she succeeded in taking someone with her when she’d folded space. What had changed?
    “Guess I never had the right incentive.” She pushed herself up with the heels of her palms and surveyed the forest behind him. “Where’s Ben?”
    Worry made his fingers fist around the hilt of his dagger. “I was hoping he was with you.”

Chapter Thirteen
    All weakness forgotten, Regan shot to her feet. “Oh, God, what if I left him behind?”
    Could she have failed so miserably? What had ever possessed her to think she could move three individuals at once? Insanity, that’s what. Insanity and desperation.
    “He’s out here somewhere,” Marcus reassured her. “We’ll find him.”
    She took in the sight of the untamed forest, the tightly interwoven branches, the thick snarls of weeds carpeting the ground, and her lungs deflated in defeat.
    Marcus placed a supporting arm around her waist. Strength instantly poured through her, as did a lick of heat. She touched her head