Free The Soother by Elle J Rossi Page A

it possible to actually grow a new soul? Before he’d met Calliope, he’d been consumed with dark thoughts. Now? He quickly glanced at the owl, which stared down his beak at Krystoff from a branch high above, seemingly casting judgment.
    The appearance of the owl symbolized many things, and to kill one would be akin to sticking his head in a guillotine and slicing the rope himself. Krystoff wished for many things. Death was not one of them. He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck to exterminate the feeling of the invisible sharp blade. Owls were not only death omens; they were also bringers of prophecy and he had every intention of discovering what message this one foretold. Just as soon as he revived his meal.
    Krystoff lined up the wolf, fox and rabbit head to tail. He pricked the tip of his finger with his fang, then pried their jaws open and allowed one drop of blood to fall on each of the animals’ tongues. The magick within his blood would work its way through their bodies, ultimately bringing them back to life in a slightly altered form. If the wolf had been beta, he would no doubt return to his pack a leader. A vampiric transfusion of sorts. He wondered if the scoffers of blood magick would see any redeeming qualities now.
    His task completed, Krystoff slid his gaze to the trees.
    The mystical bird appeared to nod, then took flight, wings gliding effortlessly through the air. Ready for the pursuit, Krystoff smiled to himself and relaxed his muscles, preparing his body to follow. Keeping up with the owl proved to be an easy task. He flashed from one spot to the next, all the while keeping his eyes on the tail feathers of the grey bird as the forest blurred around him.
    Eventually, the owl slowed and silently landed on the bough of a large oak tree. Golden eyes appraised, then directed with a swivel of his regal head. Krystoff stepped closer, peering through the foliage into an open area. The owl had led him to the ruins of a sacred circle. Whoever had cast the circle was long gone. He sensed no lingering magick, which meant anything here was his for the taking. He’d have taken it anyway. The lack of claim simply made the process easier. The caster had been sloppy, bordering on disrespectful. Either they were new to their magick, or they were scornful. Neither was acceptable amongst most magickal beings. Nonetheless, there, amidst the haphazard salted outline and the discarded stones was where he found what would quickly become his personal magickal treasure.
    A long twisted branch, its color as dark and rich as bold coffee, lay just inside the circle. His fists clenched as he imagined how the stick would feel in his hands, to mold it into a rod full of power and knowledge, to aim it toward his enemies while they ran in fear. It would take years to instill all the magick he’d had in his last staff.
Damn Eron
. But for now he’d fortify this new one with a heavy dose of copper. Krystoff knew just where to find that valuable metal. Hopefully Calliope wouldn’t mind too much when he took her entire stash.
    The energy reception capabilities of copper, along with its ability to heal and protect, made it a favorite component in wizardry. Calliope would understand that. And she would forgive him. His lips curved just thinking of all the things he could do to entice her to excuse his thievery.
    “I think I’m overdue for a dance with my angel,” Krystoff said, nodding to the owl. He picked up his new staff, twirled it between his hands to test its weight and finally gripped the wood with his right hand. The staff immediately became an extension of his person and Krystoff vowed to destroy anyone who attempted to take this new weapon from him.
    His shadows slithered around the staff before settling beneath his skin. Yes, a dance would be nice, but he had something a little more intimate planned for his next meeting with Calliope. Time to find his little witch.
    • • •
    Calliope stood smack dab in the middle