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Fall (Hero Society Book 6)

Page 6

by Jessica Florence


  “Prince of Souls, why so sad and full of woe?”

  I rolled my eyes as I pushed the intricately carved wooden door to see the witch’s ghostly head inside a crystal ball.

  “I hate it when you try to rhyme. It makes you sound crazy.”

  The ancient souls say the mansion was built on sacred ground and was a hub of wild magic fought over for many years. Many deaths occurred. Madam Tully’s room was a place of worship to that wild magic. She had an altar and plants that were still alive despite never seeing sunlight and I doubted she had watered them in over a century. Two elegant high back seats sat by a table in the front with a deck of tarot cards and a crystal ball more for show than functional, and the walls were lined with various symbols, statues, and crystals of every color imaginable.

  “Crazy I may be, but there is more than what you see.”

  I sat down in the only chair that wasn’t dusty, since my ass was in it more frequently than not.

  “I’ve got a lot going on in my head,” I admitted, relaxing for a little bit. I couldn’t talk to anyone else, even my ghostly family. Mom and Dad were still all about each other and liked to take vacations around the cemetery to get out of the house. Everyone else did whatever they wanted, not caring about the living except for my performers. Even with them, I felt they humored me because I said I would take them into the afterlife once the curse was broken.

  Madam Tully liked my company and was always there if I needed to vent or get advice. She knew about the future but would never tell specifics.

  “What’s going on?” She gave up the theatrics and pulled herself out of the crystal ball to sit in the chair opposite of me.

  “I’m cursed, and people are dying at my show.” I didn’t mention Selene because I didn’t think there was anything to tell.

  Madam Tully arched her eyebrow and pursed her lips. Her hair was straight, and she was a healthy woman when alive, with womanly curves and proud of it. When she first married, she had been about Selene’s size but she was unhappy, later in their marriage she embraced who she truly was and let her inner goddess come out. I envied her acceptance of herself most days. She kept it real while everyone else played it safe.

  “You sure the curse will end with me?” Even if my deal with my performers turned out to be nothing, I had no heir to continue the line of gatekeepers.

  “It will, that much is clear, but there is still so much that needs to be done. Something has changed in the Earth. Souls are slipping out of places they should not be, gaining abilities they are not allowed to have.”

  “What do you mean?”

  One side of her lips tilted upward as she raised her hand toward a glass coated in dust and webs.

  I didn’t understand what she was trying to demonstrate until her fingers connected with the glass, and it tumbled toward the ground, shattering into little crystal pieces all over the floor.

  “Impossible.” I couldn’t take my eyes away from the broken glass shimmering in the candlelight. I hadn’t given her the ability to touch the glass, to move it. I’d always been very careful in the house to keep my powers contained to me. If she was able to do that, then . . .

  “My dear Jude, impossible has now entered the realm of possible.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Selene

  Despite two people being killed at Jude’s last two shows, the tickets were sold out for tonight’s performance. Due to the added hype, people wanted to be there. Conspiracy theories circulated about the murders being part of the show. Either the murders weren’t real or he helped the girls escape horrible lives by faking their deaths with his magic. Everyone wanted to see what was going to happen next.

  This time I was not here for fun or to watch Jude on the stage. Undercover police agents were scattered in the crowd as well as unmasked Hero Society members. All of us were here to hopefully catch the killer.

  I hadn’t heard from Jude besides shooting him an email that I would be there shortly. He already knew about the undercover cops. Soon after, ten tickets popped into my inbox from him, along with his number that I put into my phone immediately. Now all we could do was wait and keep our eyes open. The show was going to start in about eighteen minutes, and I prayed no one got hurt tonight.

  “Excuse me, Ms. Constance. Mr. Mallory wants to see you backstage.” A stagehand with a headset over his blond hair looked at me with an impatient brown-eyed stare.

  I nodded and stood. This person didn’t look like the description of the killer Trixie had given, and her ghost glared to determine if he was the one. She gave me a shake of the head before drifting off to maybe catch a glimpse of the person somewhere else in the crowd.

  There was chaos backstage with the ghost performers getting ready. They looked more real close up, and I was tempted to reach out and touch them. They still had that shimmering blue glow to them, but they looked more solid, like my hand wouldn’t go through them.

  “Mr. Mallory.” The stagehand alerted our presence, then went off in the direction of the trapeze artists. A few eyes watched me as I stood before their leader. I noticed one of the trapeze ladies giving me the stink eye and the male an appreciated glance.

  My head turned toward Jude, dressing in his ringleader suit with a big top hat on his dark hair. He looked jazzed, like he was ready to run around the room, like a commander ready to go off to battle. My tummy fluttered in response. There was dark liner under his eyes, making the blue in them pop. His jaw was sharp.

  “Oh good, you’re here.”

  He stopped pacing and walked up to me, hands cupping my jaw, and suddenly his lips clashed against mine.

  I was stuck, frozen against his hard body. My eyes widened in shock. I didn’t know if I should push him away, but the more his unyielding mouth caressed mine, his tongue asking permission against the seam of my lips, the more I kissed him back. His touch lit my senses ablaze. Death kissed me and I never felt more alive. My eyes closed, and my hands went to the black lapels of his coat, pulling him closer. The need to feel more and take more consumed me. Strong hands moved down my neck, over my ribs, then gripped behind my thighs, lifting me up against him to wrap my legs around his body.

  I didn’t know what the fuck was happening, but I couldn’t stop. His kiss was like a drug, and I couldn’t pull away from the sweet bliss running through my veins. He walked us somewhere, then closed a door behind him. I didn’t want to drag my lips away from his to look. Whatever he wanted from me, I was very willing right now. My mind felt numb, like he gave me a shot of Novacaine to my thoughts with every nip at my bottom lip.

  “I think we’re good,” he whispered against my mouth and I nodded. I was good, absolutely good.

  His hands eased from my body, and his kiss pulled away from me.

  “I needed to talk to you without anyone knowing. I’m using my powers to keep them away from this room.”

  Jude said what? My eyes flew open and burning hot fire coated my insides. He kissed me because he needed to talk to me privately?

  “I’m sorry I kissed you to get us in here, but I don’t trust anyone right now. Some, if not all the ghosts in this realm, have abilities I didn’t give them. They can touch things, move them, even kill.”

  Oh, I was livid as fuck right now. I felt used, and hurt. I enjoyed kissing him. I wanted more of what he had to give, and it was only an excuse to talk to me. The numbness, the sweet bliss inside my soul became cold and painful.

  “How do you know this?” I managed not to have a bite to my voice, but Jude still grimaced. I’m sure despite trying not to appear affected by what just happened, my face didn’t listen.

  “Madam Tully, the witch ghost in my basement, showed me, then warned me she wasn’t the only one who could do these things. Plus you said someone pushed you into the graveyard. It wasn’t me so it was someone else. And none of the ghosts at my home has said anything. The killer could be anyone . . . my crew or some other ghost with a vendetta.”

  “How?” Too many emotions rol
led through my head, and I was having trouble latching onto a single thought. This was all so confusing. I’d never met a soul who could make physical contact with me, until I met Jude and he revealed his power. I could always touch them, but now he was telling me they could touch me without his gift of helping them do so.

  “I don’t know, but if a soul can touch you and disappear as they normally do, then we are screwed.” His tan fingers ran down his face in frustration. He was right, and I was afraid. A ghost with the ability to touch and then vanish made the perfect assassin. Music vibrated through the walls, and I looked at Jude cautiously.

  “I have to go, but be careful.” His gaze dropped to my lips. I felt the hunger in that look that he wanted to kiss me again, but instead he turned to open the door and left for the stage.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Selene

  I avoided the stares from the ghostly crew when I exited the room. Their side glares made me feel cheap, like they all thought I let him have his way with me in there, which only made the heat in my cheeks burn hotter. I would have let him take me in that room. I felt like an idiot falling for his stupid kiss the way I did. He was just so intense, and the sensations he stirred in me were something I’d never felt before.

  “Don’t get attached.” One of Jude’s female performers blatantly glared at me while drawing a heart on her cleavage above her corset. She was gorgeous, and in her living days, would have been a heartbreaker for sure. Now she was only a shimmering ghost of her former self.

  I didn’t need to say anything to her or any of the other performers. As I walked away, I thought about her voice, and Trixie’s killer. My gaze drifted back toward her hands looking for red nail polish but I only saw the shimmering blue coating of her whole body.

  “He’s mine,” she mouthed and my instincts screamed danger. I’d be keeping an eye on that performer the whole time, just in case the red flags going off in my head were accurate. Jealousy could definitely be a motive, especially when the victims wanted to be near Jude.

  I passed Draco as I went back to the seat before the stage.

  “Jude says some of the dead can act without his powers now,” I warned him and he only nodded his head. Draco was big and strong. His long brown hair and beard gave him a casual appearance but he was a leader. Born thousands of years ago, he has lived through everything. The air around him vibrated with a confidence only an ex-immortal could have.

  “Be careful.” His gruff voice reached me as I walked by to the only open seat in the place.

  The lights dimmed as soon as I reached my seat, and I looked for Trixie. It had to be hard for her, seeing this whole production with performing ghosts able to touch and be almost alive for a night when she couldn’t.

  At the first caw of the crow, my gaze darted back to the stage.

  “What is life beyond death, if not the greatest adventure into Mystical.”

  Lights lit up the stage as a woman is cut by a guillotine. Her body rose and her head looked around the room with a smile on her face. It was eerie, and many in the crowd gasped, some even screamed from terror. But everyone sat in their seats, waiting and uncompromisingly watching for what would happen next.

  Jude appeared under a spotlight, just in front of the woman’s decapitated head, and lifted it gently to her. The crowd’s energy was electric, yet there was no sound beyond the footsteps of the ringleader. A tiger growled and prowled toward the woman and Jude as she placed her head back on her neck.

  “Is this life or death, you may ask, but the truth is. . .” Jude turned his body, directly facing the audience with his eyes on me.

  “You’re already in the mystical adventure of death.” He smirked as the tiger leaped, his bared teeth aiming for Jude’s exposed back. My fingers went up to my mouth to stifle the scream just as the tiger collided with his body and they both turned into butterflies.

  I was going to need his secrets on how he did all his tricks. It was such a mystery. Trapeze artists flew and flipped together in the air. The woman who hissed that Jude was hers walked one foot at a time on a tightrope, then flipped onto a horse that appeared out of nowhere with Jude on its back. Her hand wrapped around him possessively and my gaze narrowed at the gesture.

  “It wasn’t a real kiss,” I whispered to myself, trying to focus on the show for anything stranger than ghosts performing. With great effort I tore my gaze away from Jude and looked around the crowd for the killer. Trixie was doing the same. Out the corner of my sight, I noticed someone walking toward me, covered in a hood.

  Draco moved from his spot against the wall and began walking toward me, with his focus on the hooded person. Trixie disappeared from her perching spot, then appeared next to Draco. Both of them didn’t want to spook the killer.

  “You’re wanted backstage.” A feminine voice spoke to me, and a pale hand with red polish lifted beneath the large sleeve of the hooded cape for me to take it. I tried to see who was beneath the hood, but only saw a bluish shimmer, giving them away as a soul and nothing else.

  “I don’t think so,” I whispered, as a woman behind me told the stranger to move out of her way.

  “If he falls for you, then you’re gonna die. Remember that, Reaper. I won’t be the only one out for your head.” The voice morphed into a gurgling noise, and Trixie appeared before the figure and lifted the hood.

  Nothing. The hood dropped to the ground as if there had been nothing beneath it but air.

  “Hey, sit down! We can’t see!” someone behind me hollered, and I realized I’d risen to my feet. I was too hyped to stay there and finish watching the show. I knew the hooded ghost had been the killer. I felt its dark aura, the aura of someone who had taken a life. That kind of stain on a soul doesn’t go away, it rots, and creates a fate of misery. Even before the woman had become a ghost, she’d hurt someone.

  “Let’s go,” I told Trixie and Draco. We needed to get out of view and keep an eye out for the killer in case she wanted another victim since she didn’t get the chance to kill me. We made it to the side of the building where Phillip stood, watching. He was tall, handsome, but unlike Draco, he had blond hair and looked more boyish. He was dangerous in his own way, though. He knew all the possible future outcomes, and when you know the future, you can bet on whichever one played to your advantage. He’d done it once before . . . bet the lives of everyone, even his sister if Rose’s retellings of the big battle were true. He would do whatever had to be done for what he deemed as the best future.

  “The killer is a ghost, but I didn’t see a face. Just the same pale hand and red polish Trixie saw.” I was frustrated. Every one of them was transfixed on the performance onstage. Jude was getting the performance he wanted without murder occurring, but I couldn’t get the sinking feeling in my stomach to disappear despite the deep breaths I started to take. I hadn’t felt fear with the killer near. After having spent time with Jude backstage, I figured I’d be a target like the other women. However, that feeling in my tummy only seemed to harden and churn when I repeated the woman’s words over and over in my head. If he falls for you, then you’re gonna die. Remember that, Reaper.

  I didn’t think I’d have to worry about Jude falling for me. He was against love and relationships, since he was destined to die in twenty-seven days. She’d also mentioned the title of Reaper, so she knew who and what I was, and there wasn’t any fear in her tone. There were only one set of ghosts that knew I couldn’t take them onward.

  My nervous gaze lifted to where Jude danced across the stage, pulling magic out of his hat surrounded by ghosts who could kill a live person, including him.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jude

  The performance proceeded perfectly, and nobody died. I was riding the high of a successful show that I told my ghosts to go back to the mansion and enjoy the wine in the cellar. I’d let them feast and feel for the night. All of them disappeared, and I felt their presence in the mansion even from the stage. The mansion and I were connected. The gate to the afte
rlife was bound to me by blood and birthright. I thought about joining them. Instead I walked toward the crowd that waited by the stage with Trixie.

  “This night’s show was perfect!” I announced as I neared Selene and her friends, although my steps slowed the closer I got. They weren’t excited or joyous as they looked at each other nervously.

  “What happened?” I took a step next to Selene and while it was a small movement, she leaned away from me. I’d thought after the hell of a kiss we shared earlier that she’d want to be near me like I felt toward her. I’d wanted to talk to her and to tell her about what I’d learned. Instead, as soon as I saw her, I couldn’t think about anything else beyond tasting her lips. It was stupid to want her, knowing I would die in a few weeks. Maybe she didn’t enjoy our kiss, despite how passionately she kissed me back. If it wasn’t for the show and the pressing matter of the barrier to the otherworld deteriorating, I would have stayed in that room with her, exploring her lips and the whimpering sounds she made when I nibbled against her skin.

  “The killer showed up and wanted Selene.” Trixie broke the silence with a shrug. I glanced over her face, then her body, looking for signs of an injury. She wasn’t dead, so I called that a win, but everyone’s faces looked pinched.

  “I’m Phillip. This is Draco, our leader of sorts, and this is Echo. She works for the Seahill PD and for us.”

 

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