Soulmates

by Nadine Nightingale

  Karma, baby. Karma.

  I hum “Renegade,” pull my phone out of my jacket, and switch it on. Half an hour to midnight. More than enough time to prepare the ritual and give Bonnie a buzz. I’m not sure what to say to her, but I need to call her. She’s been by my side for as long as I can remember. The least I can do—now that I’m about to be shipped to purgatory—is say goodbye.

  Dialing her number, I try to even out my breath. Each time I inhale, it feels like I’m drawing in fire.

  Bonnie picks up on the first ring. “Amanda!” she shouts into the phone.

  “Is that her?” Alex barks in the background.

  “Shut up,” Bonnie hisses to him. “Where the fuck are you? Have you gone mad? How can you just disappear like that? Oh my God, are you okay? Is this about the hunters on your tail? Did they find you? Are you…are you hurt?” She talks fast, throwing question after question at me.

  “I’m okay,” I assure her as she pauses to take a breath.

  “You’re o-kay?” She sounds like she’s about to reach through the phone to strangle me. “Is that all you have to say? Do you have the slightest idea what’s happening here? Alex is coughing up blood, Jesse is close to a nervous breakdown and I’ve been worried sick.”

  Digging my nails into the cell, I sigh deeply. “Listen, B, I know you’re mad at me for leaving, but I really don’t want to fight with you right now.”

  She falls silent. I think she stopped breathing altogether.

  “What’s she saying?” Alex inquires. He sounds less than happy. “Bonnie, what is going on?”

  Hearing his voice only hurts, so I say, “I’m just calling to let you know I’m all right.”

  “Amanda,” she whispers. “You’re freaking me out.” The edge in her voice is gone. Anger turns into deep-rooted concern.

  I could tell her the truth. They’d never make it here in time, but I don’t have it in me. “Where are you?”

  She doesn’t answer right away. “At Anna’s. I’m about to perform the ritual. Alex isn’t well.” She pauses. “Where are you?”

  In front of a freaking cemetery, about to trade my soul. “Here and there and everywhere.”

  “Stop it,” she yells, frustrated. “I’m not in the mood for games. You took off in the middle of the night, stole a hunter’s car, switched off your goddamn phone, and now you’re giving me cryptic answers?”

  “I’m annoying like that,” I say, a smile on my face. “Only reason I’m calling, B, is to tell you I’m okay, and to let JJ know she gets her car back ASAP.”

  “Who cares about some stupid car? Just tell me what’s going on!”

  “Give me the damn phone,” Alex shouts. “Amanda?” His voice vibrates through my brain.

  I’m tempted to hang up, but I can’t. “Alex,” I say as calmly as possible.

  “Where are you?” He’s fury incarnated.

  “None of your business.”

  “Are you fucking serious?” He blows out a long breath. “You run off after…after we…”

  “Slept with each other?” I offer. He clearly can’t say the words.

  He’s quiet for a moment, gasping for air. “Why are you doing this?”

  I can’t let you or anyone else die, that’s why. “Because I’m selfish, Alex. Don’t act as if that comes as a surprise. I’ll always put myself ahead of others.”

  “You’re lying,” he snaps. “Why would you put your new life on hold to help me, only to walk away after…after…”

  Not being able to articulate we had sex seems to have become an ugly habit of his. “After we shared a bed? After we screwed each other like we had so many times before? After what, Alex? You think because we spent two more lousy nights together, I’ll change my ways?” I laugh bitterly. “God, and here I thought you had a freaking brain.”

  “I know what you’re doing,” he says, much calmer than before. “It’s not working, Amanda. I won’t let you walk away like last time.”

  I laugh harder. “Oh my gosh, you’re clearly out of your fuckin’ mind, Alex. I mean, dude, you’re at that Anna chick’s place, hoping she’s your soulmate, yet you’re telling me you won’t let me walk away?” I exhale sharply. “See the mistake?”

  “Manda,” he says in a hushed tone. “I’m here because you are gone. I’m here because you didn’t give me a chance to ask for your blood. I’m here because you walked away before I could find out if we’re—”

  “We’re not, Alex.”

  “Amanda, please.”

  This is going nowhere. If anything, it hurts, and since my soul will be tortured enough in purgatory, I will not put more pain on myself. “I gotta go, Alex. I’m sorry if I mislead you, but I always figured you didn’t believe in fairytales.”

  He mutters something. I end the call and switch off my phone. Enough has been said. It’s time for action.

  A shadow of my former self, I walk to the iron gate, thinking of the nightmares that tormented me for weeks. Abandon all hope, ye who enter here, huh? It’s not hard to leave the bitch called hope behind.

  The wind rattles dead leaves as my old Gringo boots toil through the wiry, grassed-over burial ground. Pale moonlight sheds light on gravestones ranging round the edges like a row of watchful gray figures. Bonnie and I used to make fun of chicks in horror flicks dumb enough to walk right into such a trap. Guess the joke’s on me.

  Clinging to the ritual in my hand like a drowning man holds onto his life jacket, I walk deeper into the land of the dead. Fear and despair bite through my skin as I gasp for air. God, I’m pathetic.

  A pair of watchful orange eyes looks down on me. The nocturnal creature doesn’t move, but its hoot echoes through the night, a harbinger of death.

  I quicken my pace, moving straight for the center of the cemetery. Once I get to the crossroad, I put the paper on the ground and go to work. Starting with the salt and juniper circle, I follow the instructions precisely. Lighting twelve black candles and one red? Check. Tracing the sigil burned into my palm with a knife? Check. Drawing the same sigil into the ground at the center of the circle with my blood? Check.

  All I gotta do now is focus on the demon and say the spell. Easy-peasy.

  I kneel, concentrate all my energy on that thing, and start the chant. “In this night and in this hour, I call upon the darkest power. Come to me, I summon thee. Come to me, I set you free.” I’m about to repeat the incantation, but there’s no need.

  “Hello, love.” The familiar creepy voice says.

  It takes a few moments before I find the lady-balls to turn around, but when I do, I stand taller than ever. “What’s with you and that love shit? You British or something?”

  The demon looks less like a thing and more like a Calvin Klein model—amber eyes, a body like Matthew Noszka, and a face so striking, there’s no one I can compare it to. It grins. “Let’s just say I have a thing for the island.”

  “Whatever,” I grumble. “That your real face?”

  It winks. “Just a vessel, love. Do you like it?”

  “The vessel? Sure. You? Not so much.”

  The demon smiles. “I assume you finally came to your senses?” it says, brimming with confidence.

  All I wanna do is use the knife in my hand and drive it through the thing’s black heart. Instead, I cross my arms and curl my lips. “How about we just cut the crap?”

  The demon pivots around me. “Why in such a hurry, love? We have an eternity ahead of us.” I flinch at the prospect of an eternity with this bastard. “I must admit,” the demon goes on. “I didn’t think you’d really come. You are, after all, the most selfish of all the Bishop witches.”

  A demon calling me selfish? That’s a contradiction at best. Having had enough of the thing, I ball my fists. “Destroy Alex’s contract, and I will sign mine.”

  A mischievous smile tugs at the bastard’s lips. “I’m afraid, love, that’s not quite how this will work.”

  I’m about to go to purgatory; the thing really shouldn’t fuck wi
th me right now. “Then how will it work?”

  Devilish laughter echoes through the night. “Before you can sign, I’m required to make sure you understand the terms of this bargain.”

  I cock a brow. “Why, is hell scared I’ll sue them?”

  “What can I say? The boss is very accurate when it comes to deals.”

  Great. “Satan is a lawyer?”

  He grins. “Would that surprise you?”

  “Hm…let’s see. Manipulative, deceptive, and arrogant?” I shrug. “Nah, not really.”

  It reaches into its jacket and pulls out something. It kinda looks like…skin? Oh my gosh, it is skin, and there’s writing on it. I stumble back.

  The demon smiles at my shocked expression. “I’m trying real hard to get the boss to use iPads instead of these”—he holds the skin up in the air—“old-fashioned human remains.”

  I wish I had a snarky comment on the tip of my tongue, but I’m too busy wondering what the fuck I’m doing here.

  The bastard glares at the skin. “So,” it says. “You’re here to trade your soul for Alexander Remington’s. That right, love?” It gives me a look. “Please answer with yes or no.”

  I roll my eyes. “Yes.” The second the word leaves my lips, a spot on the skin ignites. Only lasts a few seconds, then the sparks are gone.

  “Very good.” The demon nods approvingly. “Moving on. Are you, Amanda Caroline Bishop, fully aware that your soul, hereafter, will be mine and mine only?”

  I suck in air, already pissed as hell. “Yes.”

  More sparks fly over the skin. The demon keeps babbling on about how I can never share these terms and conditions with anyone, how the contract would be void if I fail to keep my end of the bargain, and so on.

  Had I known how dry selling your soul was, I would have brought aspirin and Uno. Having no other choice, I keep saying yes to everything he throws my way.

  The demon flashes me a brilliant smile. “Good girl. Moving on to the most important condition.”

  I raise my brows. “Never try to seduce the boss?” I shouldn’t joke, but it’s either that or screaming.

  It gives me a sinister look. “No, love. In order to trade places with Alex, you must give up your right to be reclaimed.”

  My jaw drops. “What? Are you insane? That must be against every freakin’ law between heaven and hell.”

  It taps his foot impatiently. “Not if you voluntarily agree to it.”

  I shake my head. “No way.”

  The thing turns around. “Well then, I should be going. I do after all have a soul to claim.”

  It walks away and takes with him every rational thought I ever had. “Wait,” I shout. “I’ll do it.”

  It turns around and grins. “That’s what I thought.” The demon runs its hand through its shiny black hair and announces the last terms. They’re pretty much a mixture of you will do as I say and never question me, and in exchange Alex and everyone you love will be safe. I agree to all of them.

  “Very good, Amanda. Step out of the circle.”

  Fuck. I do.

  The Knight of Hell hands me an athame. “Sign here,” it says, pointing to the only free spot on the skin.

  I close my eyes. Melinda was right. I’ve done a lot of stupid-ass things, but this tops them all. I slice my finger open and let the blood drop onto the contract. The second the crimson liquid connects with the skin, it puffs into flames.

  “Welcome to the family,” the demon says as I glare at my burning future.

  My belly cramps, and I can hardly breathe. “How long do I have?”

  It narrows its eyes. “What do you mean?”

  Everyone knows that a deal with a demon comes with a time stamp. Some get years before they rot in hell (or like in my case, purgatory), others only months. “How much time do I have before I die?”

  “Die?” It laughs. “You think you will die?”

  What the hell is so funny? “Dude, are you on crack?”

  “Not now, no.” It swallows the laughter. “Don’t tell me you didn’t know?”

  My heart beats faster than it should, and I’m close to a cardiac arrest. “What don’t I know?”

  The demon is close enough, its sulfur breath beats against my cheeks. “Witches who make deals don’t die, Amanda.” It steps back. “They become our whores, bound to do hell’s bidding.”

  My heart fails me. “What?” I scream, more terrified than I’ve ever been.

  The demon winks. “Sorry, love, did I not mention that?” The thing strokes my temple. “Don’t worry. I already have the prefect job for you.”

  As I stand there, gazing into the demon’s fiery amber eyes I realize two things. One: my mother had been right all along. I am about to become a dark queen. Two: I’d sign that damn deal all over again if it meant Alex lives a happy, hell-free life.

  A word about the author…

  A passionate reader and writer, addicted to the dark side of the craft, Nadine grew up with Marvel heroes and horror films. She loves stories that challenge gender stereotypes, religious beliefs, and tackle topics such as racism and cultural differences in an entertaining way. Nadine has a BA in Comparative Religions and studied Creative Writing at the University of Oxford. If she isn’t traveling the world, she’s reading, writing, or watching movies.

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