The Hunger of Thieves: Soul Taker Series

By YD La Mar

Agatha

In a time of darkness, survival was all that remained.

Existence uprooted by the swath of destruction all around me, the screams quickly became our lullabies in the night.

With death constantly at my heels, the fear left in my heart led me to isolation.

That only made me a more tempting target for the darkness.

I should have known it would find me again.

 

Obsideo

In a time when human remains littered the ground as easily as fallen leaves, the breath of life was a rarity.

Yet, here she was, alone in my woods, and curiously alive.

Bored of the wandering souls around me, I found pleasure in her screams.

Her nightmares drew me in, but it was her darkness that kept me there.

The mysteries of this little female leave me enthralled.

Little did I know, she would be my own downfall.

• Language: English
• Publisher: YD La Mar
• Release date: Feb 6, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223344766

Book preview

1

Sir, they’re falling like flies in the city. What would you have us do?

My father looks to our family currently huddled in the entryway of our home. My mother’s arms wrap around me and my little sister tightly, her trembling rattling our bones.

Father’s hard and weary eyes soften as they take us in. With a sigh, he tells the steward, We leave; there’s only death to be had here. Nothing good will come of this place. How fast is it moving?

My mother whimpers as she holds us tighter. I can barely breathe, but I don’t want to push her away.

It’s already taken over the town twenty miles east of here – Old Lytle. A messenger was seen leaving in the night, and the travelers knew. News flew fast. The steward looks pale, almost sickly, and my heart beats faster.

Papa…

Not now, Agatha. Times are dire. I need to start preparing. He looks at us again. "We need to start preparing for the worst. He looks into my mother’s eyes and says what we knew was coming. We’re leaving the city. We need to find sanctuary far from the populace. Gather your things, and make sure you and the girls are ready in ten minutes time."

Like that, my world tilts on its axis. From one extreme to the next, we find ourselves in a frenzy, running to our rooms and pulling everything we can into trunks. I thought leaving France would have been enough.

Agatha, I’m so scared. My sister, Agnes’s voice shakes.

I stop my hands, stand up, and head over to hug her. She’s crying silently, trying to be brave through this major change in our lives. We’ve only just moved to this city, starting school and making friends anew. The last town we traveled from was taken over, and father was barely able to get some of our servants out with us.

Agnes, don’t fret. You have me. Now, hurry before time runs out. I gently push her away from me and back to her side of the room to finish packing.

Girls! We leave now! Father’s voice booms through the walls and we both jump. He’s not a man who raises his tone, but the situation has put us all under distress.

Girls, come on! Mother yells as she drags her trunk behind her. One of the stewards helps her with the other side as they cross our shared doorway.

Agnes, let’s go! With one hand on the handle of my trunk and the other grabbing my sister, I start pulling.

Wait! Dolly! she exclaims in panic.

Growling, I let her grab her old ragdoll off the bed and we both finally make it to the carriage that’s waiting on us.

Up you go, Miss.

We lift our skirts as one of the servants helps us in while the other secures our trunks to the back.

Thank you, Reynald. No matter how dire the situation, there’s always time for gratitude.

Once we’re both inside the carriage, Agnes scoots close to mother and buries her face in her bosom. I sit on the opposite bench, staring out the window, watching the sun sink into the horizon. We will have the cover of darkness while we escape yet another home.

Again, I find myself wondering if this was how my mother felt when father took her from her home in Brazil. Was she scared of leaving everything she knew behind? But things are different now; they weren’t running from death, only angry countrymen who didn’t approve of their union.

It saddens me that these are the thoughts that cross my mind, rather than grief over the loss of the life we’ve already built here. Have my emotions become numb to everything that’s happened these past few years?

Take the backroads; it will be less crowded there, my father instructs the driver.

The roads become bumpy quickly, and I fall out of my seat and onto the floor of the carriage. My mother helps me up and we all sit together on one side.

The sounds of yelling float through the window, and suddenly, a rock shatters the glass and lands at our feet. We all scream in terror. What in the bloody blazes?

"It’s all because of you rich pricks that this is happening! My wife died because of you!"

Leave the roads for those that need it! You all want to leave us to die!

Tackle his horses!

You shouldn’t be able to escape faster than us just because of your riches!

It starts again. The accusations, the false rumors that it is the upper class that spread it far and wide, for who else is able to travel between cities and towns so easily? My heart beats erratically as I hold onto my mother and sister. I need to protect them. Haven’t we all suffered enough equally? The darkness does not discriminate. We all fall at the hands of death, despite our age, despite our status.

Our carriage stops abruptly on the road and begins to shake dramatically from side to side. My mother and Agnes are thrown to the floor, their eyes full of fear.

What do we do? There will probably be pitchforks and potential murderers out there, waiting for us to emerge from the carriage for their retribution. The carriage continues to shake, throwing us every which way until my knees hit something hard, sending a spike of pain through me.

Looking down, I see there’s a dark metal latch at the bottom of one of the benches. My eyes scan the rest of the floor while we try to prevent ourselves from rolling around, and I see another identical latch.

It’s a hinge. It has to be a door.

Mama, Agnes, grab my hand!

My sister is in tears,