Free Soultaker by Bryan Smith

to the back of his mouth and began to slide down his throat. Hal’s eyes came open at last as panic engulfed him. There was something standing in front of him. One of the monsters. It stood on two legs and had shimmery, sluglike skin. It had a curved spine that lent it a hunchbacked appearance, a long, ridged tail as thick as a python’s, lampreylike mouth, bulging black eyes, and a single tendril between its legs. When Hal’s mind made the obvious association, he tried to bite down on the appendage invading his mouth. It went rigid inside him and he felt a sudden warmth in his chest, as if something had been expelled from the tip of the tendril. It retracted rapidly, uncoiling itself from his body and shrinking to a length a fraction of its fully extended reach.
    Hal’s mind reeled at the awful thing that had just happened. That goddamn thing had
raped
him! The sense of violation eclipsed anything he’d experienced in terms of sheer obscenity, and that was saying something. Jesus, this must be how that lady hitchhiker he’d picked up so many years must have felt when he—
    His train of thought was derailed when the first monster, the one that had removed his gag, stepped into view. Hal’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth to scream, but the lizard-woman clapped a scaly hand over his mouth and made a shushing sound.
    Hal couldn’t take any more of this. He’d been through alot, but enough was just fucking enough. He prayed for a heart attack. Or a stroke. Some sort of natural end to this horror and suffering.
    But that didn’t happen.
    What did happen was more surprising, and perhaps more frightening, than anything he could’ve imagined.
    The lizard-woman began to work at his bonds.

C HAPTER T HIRTEEN
    Rage consumed Bridget, her blood boiling as she vented her frustration by screaming threats at Jordan and banging on her door. This rejection was unacceptable. Bridget had never been spurned by anyone. It made no sense at all. She took great pride in being able to wrap sensitive little things like Jordan around her finger. Nothing gave her greater pleasure than playing with another person’s emotions until she’d broken them, and this turn of events left her feeling cheated.
    Her fury didn’t begin to level off until a calm voice spoke inside her head:
You will have your fun with her yet. Be patient.
    Bridget gasped. The voice of the Dark Mother was clear and lovely, like a soothing spiritual caress. This communication was a privilege, a blessing bestowed. The promise in the Dark Mother’s words erased Bridget’s fury. Anger gave way to delight. She stopped banging on the door and threw her head back and laughed.
    She laid a hand against Jordan’s door.
    “Soon.” Her voice was a whisper, a subtle insinuation of future pain she hoped Jordan’s subconscious would perceive. She pressed a cheek to the door. “Soon. I can’t wait to hear you cry again.”
    Then she giggled.
    A door opened to her right and one of Jordan’s neighbors, a scrawny young man with shaggy brown hair, poked his headout to see what was going on. He gasped at the sight of Bridget’s trim, tawny, naked body. Bridget saw him and smiled. “Hi there.”
    The man blushed. “Uh…is there a…problem?”
    Bridget stepped away from the door and leaned against the wrought-iron railing that wrapped around the outer edge of the landing, displaying her body in its full glory. “Oh, just a little lover’s spat.”
    She laughed when the man’s mouth dropped open. Men were so easy to manipulate. Put an image of two women going at it in a guy’s head and, presto, instant lust zombie.
    Now for some more manipulation. This might turn out to be a fun day, after all.
    “You’re cute. What’s your name?”
    The man stepped out onto the landing. He wore rumpled khaki shorts and a dirty My Chemical Romance T-shirt with an indelible pizza-sauce stain just below its collar. He was nervous as hell, his hands jittering until he shoved them into his