Black Soul

By Kiru Taye

He will damn his soul to set hers free.

When workaholic high-flying career lawyer Tara Woji takes a well deserved break and meets up with old friends she doesn’t realise the danger lurking in the shadows for her.
Muna is a chi, a gatekeeper whose duty is to protect the humans. He's lived more than a millennium waiting for Tara and is unable to do more than just watch her.
As the shadows deepen and darkness comes to claim her, he will do whatever it takes to protect her including doing the one thing he shouldn’t, releasing her powers.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Love Africa Press
• Release date: Oct 30, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310082474

Kiru Taye

As a lover of romance novels, Kiru wanted to read stories about Africans falling in love. When she couldn’t find those books, she decided to write the stories she wanted to read.Kiru writes passionate romance and sensual erotica stories featuring African characters whether on the continent or in the Diaspora. When she's not writing you can find her either immersed in a good book or catching up with friends and family. She currently lives in the South of England with her husband and three children.Kiru is a founding member of Romance Writers of West Africa. In 2011, her debut romance novella, His Treasure, won the Book of the Year at the Love Romances Café Awards. She is the 2015 Romance Writer of the Year at the Nigerian Writers Awards.

Book preview

Black Soul

Black Warriors Series: Prequel

by

Kiru Taye

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and

incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are

used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any

resemblance to actual events, locales, organisations, or

persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Black Soul

ISBN: 9781310082474

Copyright© 2014 Kiru Taye

Editor: Zee Monodee

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be used

or reproduced electronically or in print without written

permission, except in the case of brief quotations

embodied in reviews.

www.kirutaye.com

Dedication

This story is dedicated to

The Nuthouse Scribblers who motivated me to write it,

And to all those who believe we are not alone.

Blurb

He will damn his soul to set hers free.

When workaholic high-flying career lawyer Tara Woji takes a well-deserved break and meets up with old friends, she doesn’t realise the danger lurking in the shadows.

Muna is a chi, a gatekeeper whose duty is to protect the humans. He's lived more than a millennium waiting for Tara and is unable to do more than just watch her.

As the shadows deepen and darkness comes to claim her, he will do whatever it takes to protect her, including doing the one thing he shouldn’t, releasing her powers.

Prologue

Muna lounged in the worn foam armchair, thighs apart, legs stretched out, and right hand clutching a short tumbler of whisky.

Desperation flowed in his veins, making him feverish. Sweat dripped down his face. His t-shirt clung to his back, a second skin.

The air in the studio flat hung hot and heavy, making breathing a laboured affair.

Dim light from the wall lamp spewed across sparse furniture. Plain, dark-wood coffee table stained with cup marks, another fabric-covered armchair like the one he sat on. A made-up bed covered in navy bed linen, large enough to accommodate two people if they clung to each other, stood at one end. A small open-plan kitchenette with cherry-wood units took up the opposite wall.

Posters of The Princess Bride, Clash of the Titans and Ladyhawke covered up light blue paint peeling off the brick walls. Images of Matthew Broderick, Rutger Hauer, Harry Hamlin and Cary Elwes stared down at him.

He snorted. The first time he was going to have sex in a millennium, and he'd chosen a demon with an obsession for fantasy movies. And books—hardcover copies of J.R.R. Tolkien's Lord of the Rings books sat on a thin wooden shelf above the bed.

This was Dar es Salaam, but it could have been Mordor for the number of supernatural creatures residing here. And the night club he'd been in earlier might as well be named Super Central.

Lifting the glass to his lips, he tightened his grip on it to stop his hand from shaking.

The strong liquor burned his throat as he tossed the whole shot down. Thumped the glass back onto the small table and refilled it from the bottle.

One of the advantages, or disadvantages depending on how one chose to look at it, of being a super, alcohol had no effect in normal quantities.

However, he liked the sting of whisky at the back of his throat and in his chest. It made him feel alive. Something he hadn't felt in an exceedingly long time.

Shame it couldn't numb the pain searing his soul, his constant companion.

The succubus, Sira, sashayed out of the bathroom in flame red lace lingerie that matched her hair colour and stilettos that made her legs seem to stretch for miles. She was striking, considering her skin gleamed jet black like polished granite, and she had the shape of a supermodel.

She'd graced the covers of magazines. She also had an addiction to sex that had gotten her into trouble time and again.

Who was he to criticise? His own transgressions haunted him daily.

Moreover, she was just the kind of woman he needed now—uncomplicated mind-blowing sex.

He'd denied himself this one thing for so long, welcoming the torture. Now he teetered on edge, afraid he would plunge into insanity. If he didn't find the release soon, he would lose his mind. One thing he couldn't afford when others needed him. One other in particular.

Sira swung her hips to the left and then to the right, giving him a show of sorts. Hooked fingers to the clasp of the bra, she unfettered her breasts. They spilled out in their glory, revealing nipples like blackberries. She cupped the swells of flesh on her chest.

Spine tingling, his trousers tightened. Eyes riveted on the female, he licked his lips and lifted his glass to drink, only to notice it empty.

Thud. The tumbler rolled when Muna discarded it.

Come here, he growled. I want you to make me forget.

Whatever you say, Keeper. She smiled as she settled between his knees.

She knew who he was, although they hadn't spoken much after he'd picked her up at the bar and returned to her place. She hadn't asked any questions, and he hadn't provided information except to whisper his need into her ears.

She palmed his bulge, squeezing him.

A groan left his lips unrestrained. His belt clanked as Sira undid the clasp. Soon his fly came undone and his erection throbbed in her hot palm.

Wet, warm mouth covered him—applied suction.

Head tossed back and eyes closed, he groaned again, losing himself to all but the feel of her lips drawing him in and her tongue rolling around the tip.

He gripped the arms of the chair and tried to stay focused. But she didn't let up and practically sucked him into oblivion.

***

Human screams. Tyres screeched. Tarmac burnt. Metal tumbled and crumpled. A loud, sickening crash. Glass shattered into a million pieces.

Eerie silence echoed in the aftermath. Tangled metal caged the massacred occupants.

A whimper, faint and childlike, rose in the still night air. Someone lived.

A little girl dropped out of the car door, escaping the arms of death. Groggy, blood dripping down her face, she stumbled from the wreckage. Too disorientated to understand the carnage surrounding her, broken glass bit into her bare feet.

Petroleum greased tarmac. A spark flared from one of the ruined vehicles, dropped onto the ground. Flame lapped fuel, luring an inferno to life.

The girl stared, still not comprehending, as fire engulfed broken bodies and distorted metals.

In the distance, the cry of a siren ripped the air.

***

Muna woke with a start, body jerking upright. He rubbed his eyes and glanced around.

Sira was beside