“Yes,” Dominic said.
“Yes, but there's more to it,” Darius added. “A zealot like Michael might believe in his mind that he's performing God's work and therefore innocent of any evil, but his soul would know better. That causes an even greater unbalance because the soul is constantly warring with the mind, trying to break through the false beliefs that have been hammered into it. Good and evil is about perspective in most cases—a man may kill to protect his family and the soul would judge that a good act. But in some instances, the evil is so great that even though the human perspective rules the act good, the soul does not.”
“I understand,” I said. “And to be honest, that's comforting. It's nice to know that everyone has guidance inside them. Even evil people who commit atrocities.”
“Atrocities,” Darius repeated. “Yes. Such acts would have weakened Michael's soul. And although I wasn't around for the Crusades—not as this version of myself, anyway—I've read some terrible things about them.”
“Fuck, one look at this guy, and you know he's done bad shit,” Dominic said.
“All right,” Rune said. “So, we know Michael was likely a zealot. He would have been furious to learn that his death hadn't earned him a place at God's side. That would have delayed the strengthening process.”
“Delayed?” I asked.
“A soul stays in Tartarus until it's strong enough to leave,” Merrick said. “But if it holds onto beliefs from its physical life, the process takes longer.”
“But why would a soul do that? I thought it was separate from the mind?” I asked.
“A soul has consciousness,” Rune explained. “That consciousness is unique. It holds the memories of every life a soul has lived. But when the soul is born into a physical body, the consciousness takes root in the brain, leaving those old memories in the soul and forming the mind. The mind is a link between body and soul.”
“So, Michael's mind battled his soul,” I said. “Then he died, and the battle ended, but the mind became consciousness, and within that consciousness were his memories.”
Rune nodded. “Memories that might anger him, especially if he blamed himself for not listening to the guidance he had inside him.”
“You'd think he'd only be angry with himself then.” I grimaced. “But I've known too many men who are incapable of blaming themselves, even when faced with proof that they areresponsible. In fact, the more they are forced to confront their own failures, the angrier they get.”
“Exactly,” Darius said. “So, we're likely dealing with an angry, vicious soul who wants to steer others down the same path he walked.”
Then Braxen said, “Maybe he thinks that if enough people behave as he did, he can convince his soul that he's good.”
Dominic made a huffing sound. “Shit, man. That's some deep insight you got there.”
Brax shrugged. “Either that or he just wants to spread the evil and embrace being a nasty motherfucker.”
Darius snorted. “I wouldn't be surprised by either.”
“We've at least got an idea of who we're dealing with,” Rune said. “Michael may have indeed left people here, but I believe he's gone ahead to Spokane to spread his reach. It's him who we must focus on.”
“So, we're going to Spokane?” Merrick asked.
Braxen nodded. “And we're bringing Lora with us.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
It was about a four-hour drive to Spokane. I spent most of it in the backseat of Merrick's Mercedes, snuggling with Braxen. We stopped halfway there for a late lunch, then drove on, Braxen switching seats with Merrick to drive the rest of the way. The stop made the trip bearable. That and the men.
Dominic and Darius were in their truck, so I was alone with my guys. And Iwasthinking of them as mine. It was good to spend some time getting more comfortable with Merrick physically. Casual touching turned out to be the key to us connecting emotionally. By the time we reached Spokane, butterflies filled my stomach, Merrick was staring at me tenderly, and I knew love wasn't just inevitable for him. We were both falling. Merrick and I had come a long way in a short time. Getting past his gruffness seemed like an almost instantaneous thing for me. And once that happened, once I saw the real Merrick, I knew I had found my place at last. It wasn't Seattle or a building full of antiques and art. It was these three men. Wherever we went, we were home.
Speaking of homes, I was impressed by the estate we pulled up to in Spokane. We were in a neighborhood called Nine Mile Falls where the homes were more spaced out with acreage between them. It didn't have the historic feel of some of the other neighborhoods we had passed through, but when the gatesopened and we drove up their long driveway, I knew Darius, Declan, and Dominic had been there for decades if not centuries. Their house had a history.
It was massive, and I could tell that it had been added to, but the new wings had been done to match the old style. Victorian. That's what the style was. And I'd never seen one like it. Most Victorians had height. They had turrets crowned with peak ornaments and gable roofs. They reached for the stars, even their windows tended to be tall. But they don't stretch outward. They're willowy girls, but not angels. You don't see many Victorian houses with wings. This one had wings bigger than the original house. I counted eight turrets and six peaks. And it wasn't built of wood. The structure was stone and even the roofs were slate, making the Victorian design look like a castle. The wraparound porch had been expertly extended from the original house to wrap around the wings and those wings came forward to either side of the original to curve around the circular driveway. In short, it was a masterpiece. A little Wednesday Addams, but I liked that sort of thing.
“Wow,” I whispered.
Merrick, Rune, and Braxen all frowned at me, Merrick's arm clutching me closer.
“It's beautiful,” I said.
“We will buy a new house like this one,” Braxen said.
