LOST SOULS

Books by Lisa Jackson

See How She Dies

Final Scream

Wishes

Whispers

Twice Kissed

Unspoken

If She Only Knew

Hot Blooded

Cold Blooded

The Night Before

The Morning After

Deep Freeze

Fatal Burn

Shiver

Most Likely to Die

Absolute Fear

Almost Dead

Lost Souls

Published by Kensington Publishing Corp.

LISA JACKSON

LOST SOULS

KENSINGTON BOOKS

CONTENTS

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

AUTHOR’S NOTE

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 27

CHAPTER 28

EPILOGUE

Acknowledgments

I would like to thank everyone who worked on this book. As always, my insightful editor, John Scognamiglio, helped with the book from the time it was a germ of an idea. With his help I was able to make a vague concept into a complete plot, and I can't imagine how many hours he spent on the manuscript. Before the finished book ever reached New York, my sister, author Nancy Bush, helped with the editing and compiling of the manuscript—a daunting task, believe me. Behind the scenes, a legion of people helped with the research and promotion. I can’t thank them enough: Ken Bush, Alex Craft, Matthew Crose, Michael Crose, Kelly Foster, Ken Melum, Roz Noonan, Joan Schulhafer, Mike Seidel, Larry Sparks, and Niki Wilkins. If I’ve forgotten anyone, my apologies. Can I blame it on the age-thing?

Author’s Note

For the purposes of this story, I’ve bent some of the rules of police procedure and also created my own fictitious police department in the city of New Orleans.

LOST SOULS

PROLOGUE

All Saints College
Baton Rouge, Louisiana
December

W here am I?

A rush of icy air swept across Rylee’s bare skin.

Goose bumps rose.

Shivering, she blinked, trying to pierce the shifting darkness, a cold dark void with muted spots of red light shrouded in a rising mist. She was freezing, half lying on a couch of some kind and…

Oh, God, am I naked?

Was that right?

No way!

Yet she felt the soft pile of velvet against the back of her legs, her buttocks, and her shoulders where they met the rising arm of this chaise.

A sharp needle of fear pricked her brain.

She tried to move, but her arms and legs wouldn’t budge, nor could she turn her head. She rolled her eyes upward, trying to see to the top of this freaky dark chamber with its weird red light.

She heard a quiet cough.

What?

She wasn’t alone?

She tried to whip her head toward the sound.

But she couldn’t. It lolled heavily against the back of the chaise.

Move, Rylee, get up and friggin’ move! Another sound. The scrape of a shoe against concrete—or something hard—reached her ears. Get out, get out now. This is too damned weird.