Charmed Souls (Black Souls Book 1)

by Abbi Glines

  “Heath, do you think I’m into girls?” I asked, trying not to laugh. He was upset because he thought Margo had just tossed me out of the closet. His anger made sense now.

  He didn’t respond right away. He was frowning at me and studying me closely. I let him think it through, saying nothing. Not laughing at him was hard and the smile that was pulling at my lips was difficult to hold back.

  It had been five years since I’d had my first and only boyfriend. I had been fifteen and thought it was special. Cody had said he loved me. I’d believed him. All that young love stuff was exciting. My oldest sister, Geneva, however, made sure I didn’t experience too much happiness, and it had ended almost as soon as it had begun. Cody was lucky that Geneva only wanted to hurt me. It could have all been so much worse for him.

  “You’ve only dated one guy and that was five years ago,” he said this as if it explained everything.

  “True, but I’ve not dated girls either during that time,” I reminded him.

  He did that eyebrow scrunch that I knew so well.

  “Heath, if I liked girls, I would hope that, by now, I would have managed to find a girlfriend. I’ve dated no one in five years. That doesn’t mean I don’t like guys.”

  He was still frowning when I patted his arm. “I like men. I’m just not meant for relationships.”

  My words seemed to open a new set of emotions in Heath as they exploded on his face. “Because of that asshole Cody?” he asked immediately. Of course, he’d remember his name. I thought Cody was forgotten by everyone in my life.

  “No, not really. Sure, he showed me what could happen.” I didn’t add “and what would happen,” although I was thinking it. “I’m different.” Was all I said instead.

  Heath’s frown faded, and he inhaled sharply then let out a short laugh. “Yeah, Cat, you’re definitely different.”

  The door to his apartment swung open then, interrupting anything else he was going to say.

  Rathe’s tall body filled the doorway. He was now shirtless, and the sight was something to behold. I turned my eyes from him quickly, not wanting him to think I was checking him out. There was no reason for him to have taken his shirt off other than to get attention, and he already had it in spades. I wouldn’t give him more.

  “Margo’s locked herself in the bathroom and is banging on the door and can’t get out. Is there a key?” he asked.

  “Shit,” Heath muttered then looked at me. “Text me when you get home safely,” he said.

  I nodded. “Of course,” I assured him.

  He looked like he wanted to say more, but Margo’s yelling could be heard out here now. He groaned and turned to go inside to save his sister. I didn’t glance back toward the apartment. Rathe was still there, and although he was nice to look at, I didn’t need to allow myself that kind of pleasure. It opened doors to things I had to keep closed. I didn’t have to look back at him to know he was watching me leave, which made not looking back even more difficult.

  Three

  The Family

  “It’s my wedding day, bitch! Rise and shine.” The dreaded sound of my oldest sister, Geneva, interrupted my dreams; yet, I kept my eyes closed. One more second of peace before I had to wake and face a day full of celebration that truly should be heralded as if it were a funeral, rather than a wedding. Any man tricked into marrying one of my sisters was asking for a hell he had no idea existed.

  “There are things to do and we need your help, as much as that pains me,” she said the second part with disgust in her tone. It pained me much more, I was sure of it. Refusing to help made life here even more miserable. I kept telling myself that having Geneva gone would be better, but I knew she wasn’t really going to leave. She would just be ruining a man’s life, much like my mother had my father’s life, and I’d have to witness it. After the honeymoon was over, she would be here often.

  The pillow I had covered my head with was snatched away. I groaned, throwing my arm over my eyes to cover them from the light coming through the windows. She had opened the curtains to add to the annoyance. “What do you possibly need me for this early?” I grumbled.

  “You know what I need you for, so get up and stop being a lazy bitch,” she snarled back at me.

  My eyes had just been assaulted by the sunlight. The weather should make her happy. Why did she need me? The only thing she could need me for was to fix the weather.

  “I see sun.” I stated the obvious then squinted as I moved my arm from my face.

  “If you’d get your ass out of bed, you’d see it’s not going to last long. I need dry grass and sunshine. I want an outside wedding. It’s sunny now, but this is going away soon. Get up!”

  “Can’t I just dry the ground later?” I asked.

  “No, you can’t just dry the fucking ground. The rain is coming in and staying. Besides, what would Miles’ family think if the only dry ground for miles was in our backyard? Think, you idiot!”

  Tossing back my covers, I sat up still squinting at the sunshine. She was right of course. Our backyard being the only dry ground would make no sense. “If you’ll leave me alone the rest of the day then I’ll do it,” I told her.

  She let out a short, hard laugh. “I’ll leave you alone, but momma won’t. Today is about me.”

  I wanted to fall back onto my bed and wish this all away, but I’d tried to get rid of my mother and sisters since I was five, and it hadn’t worked yet. I could push anyone else away, except the people I truly wanted to get away from- my family. The Kamlocks might be talented dark magic witches, but they were white trash gold diggers, and my mother was a Kamlock. Although, I refused to accept that name. My father had been a Delvaux and I would remain one. He was my only link to being good. To not becoming what my mother wanted me to become.

  “Did you get her up?” My middle sister came into the room and paused when she saw me sitting up. “Good morning, now go make sunshine,” she said with a giggle, as if she was making a joke. Leanne wasn’t the bitch my older sister was, but she wasn’t an angel either. Leanne was more of a meddler. If there was a pot to stir, she was stirring it. The worse the situation grew, the happier she seemed.

  “This isn’t my wedding, thank the earth, but I’ll go make sure you have dry grass then I’m leaving. I’m not staying here all day in this insanity,” I grumbled.

  “Aunt Marigold will be here soon,” Leanne told me, as if I cared that more Kamlock women would be arriving. All the Kamlocks would be arriving today. We didn’t do family time. My mother’s sister had only one good quality, her son. Duely was the only family member not cruel, selfish, and hateful.

  “Another reason to flee,” I muttered. My mother’s sister wasn’t as evil as my mother, but she was annoying. I didn’t want to hear her go on and on about my future and the story of the Kamlock sisters. I knew the story. I knew the past. The last set of Kamlock sisters to thrive lived two hundred years ago. The past three generations didn’t have a good track record, including my mother and her sisters. The third sister hadn’t even made it to adulthood before being killed in a fire created by my mother.

  “Fine, leave. But fix this weather,” Geneva said, then tossed her long platinum hair over her left shoulder before walking out of my bedroom door as if she were a queen and I her servant. Rolling my eyes, I stood up, and Leanne was still there watching me. She squinted her green eyes at me. The color of them so bright and stunning, yet, not once did I wish that I’d gotten those eyes from my mother like my sisters had. I preferred the blue eyes that came from somewhere in my father’s line. His were brown, but with Kamlocks having green eyes only, mine must have come from the Delvauxs.

  I knew little about the Delvaux family. Only what I had been able to read in books and what my father had told me when I was little. The Delvaux family hated my mother. She was the trashy beauty who stole their son from them then took all he had. I didn’t blame them
for that. They had no idea the extent of hate they should have toward her. She had done much more than take all my father’s inheritance at his death. I was sure she’d caused his death.

  My sisters had a different father- Zephyr. He was a powerful warlock who had visited briefly over the years and had never required they take his last name, although he didn’t use a surname. Both my sisters used the Kamlock name like it was something to be proud of.

  I was different. Not all of my blood was tainted with darkness. I had my father in me and I was thankful for that difference. I was also thankful he’d wanted his last name on my birth certificate.

  “You’re twenty now, Catalina. Refusing your birthright is just delaying it. Why keep it up?” Leanne placed a cigarette between her lips, knowing I didn’t allow smoking in my room. She snapped her fingers to light it up, and when nothing happened, she glared at me accusingly; yet, she didn’t attempt to light it again.

  “I’m not delaying it. I’m denying it.” I didn’t wait for her to say more or try and get me worked up. She was good at that, using her calm tone and sweet smile to say the exact things to piss you off. Her red hair reminded me how much of our mother was in her. She looked more like momma than Geneva or I did; she was just better at concealing her inner bitch.

  I walked out of my room and left her there to stew in her own pot of strife she thrived on and headed for the doors leading onto the back terrace. I wasn’t going downstairs and walking out into the backyard until I was sure I needed to. Geneva could very well be overreacting about the weather. Opening the double doors located at the top of the stairs leading to the third floor, I walked out onto the terrace. Inhaling, I closed my eyes and tasted the rain that would come. Exhaling, my mood went even more sour. I hated when Geneva was right. It was going to rain later today. There was no doubt about that.

  Turning my head, I looked to the right and saw the house Heath and Margo had grown up in since they were seven. They’d moved next door after a tragedy that neither Margo nor Heath had shared with me. I knew there had once been three of them – triplets – and that they lost their sister Mary when they had been just six years old. Yet, not once had they shared that with me or told me how she was killed. But I knew.

  Their parents still lived there. They were much older parents. Although Margo and Heath never said anything about their parents age, kids had mistaken them for their grandparents at school functions when we were younger. I liked that about them though. They did feel like grandparents. Their mother always baked us cookies and spent time teaching us to mix the batter ourselves. During the holidays, I was always invited to join in their festivities. They had a traditional Christmas tree covered in popcorn that we would string and handmade ornaments that Heath and Margo had made over the years. They were the only normal I got to experience. I would have thought their life was perfect if I hadn’t always known they lived as if Mary hadn’t existed. Not even a photo of her in their house. That was a dark place they all held inside.

  Their house wasn’t right next door, but they were our closest neighbors. With it being about two football fields away, they couldn’t see in our windows or make out our faces, but if I took a chance and leapt from this balcony to avoid facing my mother downstairs then I was sure they’d notice that. Margo and Heath’s parents would call the police and things would get a little too exciting around here.

  Sighing, I went back inside and closed the large ornate doors behind me. They were extravagant like the rest of the house. My father had given my mother exactly what she wanted. Which had been everything. This house had been in his family for two hundred years. He’d added on, made updates and done everything my mother asked of him. Then she’d let him die or caused him to die. His private jet had gone down when he was in it without her, which was rare. For so long that had haunted me, but the older I got, I began to realize that the life he would have had with her if he’d lived would have been awful. She’d have never let him be free. His own desires would have been taken from him and replaced with hers. His world would have been pleasing her, and he would have never realized it. I had no proof she’d made his jet crash but I knew my mother. That was enough to make the possibility haunt me.

  Many nights I had laid in bed, wondering what it would have been like to have him here. To have his family visit us or to go visit them. It was all a fantasy, though, because my mother would have never allowed that. I knew from the hate his family had for my mother and their refusal to acknowledge me that she’d already alienated him from his family when he had died.

  As soon as my foot hit the bottom floor, I knew my mother was awake. I could smell her cigarette. That was her breakfast of choice. Geneva was going on about her future husband’s mother and how she was ready to be rid of her. I winced because I knew, without a doubt, she would indeed do exactly what my mother had done to my father.

  To avoid them, I turned right and walked toward the back of the house on the west side. My mother would know I was awake and what I was doing. There was little in this house she missed. I was relieved when she didn’t call my name or summon me to the kitchen. Opening the backdoor, just beyond the library that had been my dad’s but I wasn’t allowed to use, I stepped outside onto the warm green grass and let my bare feet soak in the soil beneath me as if we were one. I felt most at peace when I was touching the earth. I closed my eyes and walked into the garden that stood under the sun’s warmth, not needing to see to get there. I’d made my sanctuary here so many times in my life. I had a power here that neither my sisters nor my mother possessed. They didn’t bother me here. Because here, my power became stronger than any of theirs. Without me, they’d never know the strength of it, which made them crave the joined power of three even more. It wasn’t me they wanted, but what I could do.

  Standing in the stone circle I’d created as a child, before I even realized what it was meant for or what it would do, I held my arms up to the sky, tilted my head back until my face heated from the sun, and chanted the words that only I knew. The words that came to me alone.

  The heat inside the core of the earth rose until my feet felt as if they were standing on coals yet the pain was beautiful not painful. I embraced the heat and the earth, and it was the only time in my life I felt as if I weren’t alone. Then I did what my sister had demanded I do. I controlled the rain, I controlled the sun, and I controlled the sky. Just like the prophecy had said upon my birth. Yet unlike any Kamlock witch or warlock before me.

  The warmth filled me until I lifted from the ground for only a few moments then lowered again until I was back on the grass that awaited me. Like always, I was drained but not completely. I wanted to go back to bed, but I wouldn’t. At least not here. I’d done what they needed from me, and there would be no rain.

  “Did you do it?” my mother’s voice asked, breaking my beautiful silence.

  I opened my eyes and turned around to see her standing several feet away outside my private garden, watching me with a diet soda in one hand and a long skinny cigarette in the other. She knew it was done. She just hated that I had this power and she never would. Her long red hair was pulled up on top of her head in a messy bun, and the silver nightgown that barely covered her bottom was all she was wearing.

  “Yes,” I said but didn’t leave the circle.

  “Geneva said you’re leaving for the day.” She sounded amused as if that was a joke.

  “Yes,” I replied.

  “You’re wasting time. For your sisters and yourself. This stubbornness is getting to be annoying as hell. When are you going to stop being a little shit and accept what you were born for?” She took a long drag from her cigarette and scowled at me.

  “I make my own decisions,” I said simply. Just because she’d had the three daughters like one in three Kamlock sisters do every generation didn’t mean she controlled me.

  “We’ll see about that,” she drawled then turned away from me and strolled back to
ward the house.

  I wasn’t scared of many things but becoming my mother was at the top of that short list.

  Four

  The Other Sister

  Margo was hungover, but she still answered my call. My friends were few or just two. I could either call Margo or Heath. The older we had gotten, I’d drawn closer to Margo simply because she was a female. Heath had been around during my childhood, and like Margo, he didn’t know my family was a household of witches. He did know they were all complete bitches. He would be there to help me escape from them when needed.

  Today, it was needed. With Geneva acting like she was celebrating a festive occasion and that the world revolved around her, I had to find some sanity. When she’d brought home her fiancé the first time, I had wanted to yell at the wealthy Miles Dartmore to run away as fast as he could.

  The way the guy had looked at my sister, with such complete adoration, I knew it was pointless. He was sunk, and his fortune would soon be my sister’s. Trying not to feel guilty for allowing this to happen, even though there wasn’t anything I could do about it, I shoved those thoughts aside and made my way up the stairs to Margo’s apartment to pick her up.

  We were going to get breakfast at The Bacon House. It was her suggestion. I didn’t know how she could eat such a heavy breakfast while hungover, but it sounded good to me. I lifted my hand to knock on the door, but footsteps from the stairwell behind me caused me to pause. I hadn’t known anyone had followed me inside the building.

  “You left before things got fun last night,” Rathe said, as I turned around to find the source of the noise. He was standing there with a paper cup that I recognized from the coffee house across the street. His hair still looked messy from sleep but he managed to pull it off. The ripped jeans and snug black tee shirt he was wearing looked better than good on him. It was as if that style was created just for him. Not staring at Rathe was going to be difficult. I snapped my gaze from his attire to his face. I had to get a grip on my appreciation of his general sexy as hell looks. Of course, he was smirking. Again.