by Mikea Howard
Table of Contents
SOUL SONG
Acknowledgements
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
Epilogue
Table of Contents
SOUL SONG
Acknowledgements
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
Epilogue
SOUL SONG
The Soul Mate Tree
MIKEA HOWARD
SOUL MATE PUBLISHING
New York
SOUL SONG
Copyright©2017
MIKEA HOWARD
Cover Design by Wren Taylor
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, business establishments, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.
Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
Published in the United States of America by
Soul Mate Publishing
P.O. Box 24
Macedon, New York, 14502
ISBN: 978-1-68291-509-7
www.SoulMatePublishing.com
The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
We dedicate this book to anyone
who’s ever believed in soul mates.
Acknowledgements
As with every book, many thanks are in order. First and foremost, thank you so much to our extraordinary editors Cheryl Yeko and Char Chaffin for not only polishing this book up, but also for inviting us to be a part of The Soul Mate Tree project. We are so proud to have Soul Song in this collection among so many great stories. We’d also like to share our gratitude with all of our fellow “Tree Huggers” for taking this ride with us and sharing, blogging, tweeting, etc. And last, but certainly not least, we appreciate all of our readers, but we’d like to give a special thanks to Kathryn Parson and Donna Antonio for their help in this project.
THE LEGEND OF THE SOUL MATE TREE
I am old, I am ancient,
my purpose is clear
To give those who are needy
a treasure so dear.
They who come to my roots,
touch my bark, stroke my leaves
Find the soul of their lives
if they but believe.
When I call and you listen,
your prize will be great
If your heart remains open
and you don’t hesitate.
Do you yearn? Be you lonely?
Is your time yet at hand?
Reach for me and I’ll give to you.
I’m yours to command.
For your trust, for your faith,
keep my secrets untold
And I’ll gift you forever,
to have and to hold.
Chapter 1
Heavy with exhaustion, Guatimozin stretched his wings wide and circled the town, deciding to stop for the night. The flight from Alaska always took more than one day. He’d hoped to make it closer to Blue Wolf Enclave, keeping his promise to someone he’d grown close to. Called to service for the horned god at a young age, Tim had few friends.
Recently, his duties thrust him into the lives of people who wouldn’t allow him to slink off into solitude again. Keeping tabs on him, these new friends invited him back . . . behaved as though they enjoyed his company.
The darkness of his work, traveling to the in-between, kept most folks at a distance. He often pondered if a shadow followed him in and out of the realm, trapped in the middle of life and death. Even though he recovered quickly, the heavy weight of assisting people drained him. Whether the outcome created tears of joy or sorrow, he generally detached himself, leaving with little more than a nod.
Until a seer named Molly hugged him and insisted he come back to visit soon, and the werewolf pack welcomed him as an old friend, Tim had no idea his life had lacked anything. Participating in their joy, lifted him . . . and made him long for a love as strong as his friends’.
Shaking it off, he spied a tree settled on a hill beyond town. Its branches, gnarled and thick, should be enough to hold his weight. In eagle form, he may be lighter than a human, but at three times the size of his animal counterpart he had to choose his perch carefully. Tim had dropped like a stone frequently in his youth because of hasty decisions.
He could shift undetected before heading in for a hot meal. Unlike many of his kind, the noise and pollution of diesel engines in human cities didn’t affect him. Bigger metropolises with skyscrapers towering overhead and heavy traffic speeding by made him uncomfortable, but not insane.
This place, Black Diamond, located between Eureka and Neakok City, didn’t have a building over ten stories. He’d flown over it before, but never stepped a foot within.
Growing close to the great tree, a gust of icy wind blew, sending a shiver through his wings. The sensation tingled like the magic when he shifted forms, but with a different bubbly quality.
Tim pumped harder, soaring in with greater speed. Finding a hefty limb, he landed, gripping tight with his talons. A haze covered his vision, cloaking everything with wispy scratches.
Blinking, he watched a form approach at top speed; the parts of a woman taking form. First, a slender leg springing forward to land a bare foot on the dusty trail. Then an arm reaching ahead, her long neck craned back to view where she fled from. Growing closer, the female brought her gaze to the tree, right to him.
What is this? Does she see me?
Ringlets of mocha hair bounced around her ethereal face as she continued to sprint. Her bright blue eyes stayed fixed on his location as she neared the tree’s base. Dark black streaks trailed down her cheeks, crossing over the bright red stain smeared from her mouth
.
Tim tilted his head to focus through the foggy, surreal overlay covering his vision. He could see through the spectral form of the woman as she began climbing, aimed straight for him. Staring at her azure orbs, they grew wide as her lips formed an ‘O’.
She slipped. Her arms swung wide as she fell backward, crashing through the branches.
Tim jumped to the ground, calling on his body to shift, and held his arms out to catch her. She ghosted through them, slamming her head on a thick root.
The bright, crisp colors of reality washed over him. He studied the empty spot where she’d fallen.
Gone.
Straightening, he sighed, but it didn’t release the tightness in his chest.
Where’d she go? What had she been running from? What hurt her? His chest ached with an emptiness, his breaths labored. Claws tore at his insides, fighting to crawl out of an abyss of fear for her. The real question searing through his soul bubbled up, unbidden. Will I ever see her again?
A stinging in his eyes warned him before the first tear fell. Tim didn’t understand. A nameless woman disappearing before him shouldn’t cause him any distress. The horned god hadn’t sent him here, therefore he had no responsibility to her.
Is this a mission?
Tim steadied himself, resting his palms on the smooth bark. The moment they touched, the contact pulled him to the in-between. The air tasted different here. The tree came with him, but it glowed in bright hues.
He frowned. That’s new. Swirling purples and pinks, and other colors he didn’t know the names of. Its vibrancy surprised him. The in-between, while different, depending on who he assisted passing through, held only one constant . . . its muted tones. The pall before a storm.
Tim stepped away from the topiary to take in the entire tree, and only then did the presence of another individual register.
His heart warmed in an unfamiliar way. His beautiful mystery woman stood on the other side.
~ ~ ~
Dottie’s tears had dried hours ago, or had it been days? Time had no meaning in this strange place. She couldn’t find a sun or moon to help track how long she’d survived here.
Seated on a spattering of soft moss, she adjusted her back against the one solid object in sight. An enormous tree, its trunk the width of several men, was the only thing with any sort of substance or color. Craning her head back, Dottie gazed up at the leaves topping the ancient plant. Their unnatural purple hues swaying to imaginary music.
Utterly unnervin’.
Like the nightmares which had tormented her as a child, panic and confusion loomed just beyond the horizon. Only this time, waking to her parents screaming at each other would be a welcomed disruption. At least she’d be in a familiar environment, serenaded by the music of empty liquor bottles shattering against walls at the other end of their rented shotgun shack.
Rising, she stretched her muscles while inspecting the upper branches. From a higher vantage, she should be able to discern if anything in the distance could be reached on foot. Climbing trees to escape the chaos of home had been one of her favorite pastimes as a child.
She circled the base, searching for adequate finger and foot holds, or a low branch she could reach by jumping high enough. The grand arbor proved to be more of a challenge than the Spanish moss-covered cypress dotting the land of her childhood home.
How did I scale this beast in the real world? Had anger propelled me? Too bad it didn’t keep me up there, instead of lettin’ me tumble ta the rocks below. She reached up to rub her head where she should’ve sported a goose egg, the sharp pain still fresh in her mind.
Dottie lifted her leg and settled her bare toes into the bark. She stretched her arms high, digging her fingers in as fresh tears slid down her cheeks. Adrenalin had rushed through her when she’d climbed the tree after fleeing from town, and that horrible betrayal. Before she fell and found herself in this strange place.
She slapped the bottom of her other foot hard against the rough bark but failed to gain any purchase. No longer pumping with a fight or flight response, Dottie’s unexercised arms shook with the strain of holding her weight against the pull of gravity.
In a last-ditch effort to make it a little bit further, she let her fingers relax and kicked up, grasping blindly for the branch above. Her palms only grazed air as she waved them frantically about on her way back down to the hard ground, again.
Oof. Breath raced out of her lungs when she landed, staring up at the colorless sky.
She scowled. Her fabulous life as a singer had left her soft and weak. The days of hauling her own suitcases filled to the brim with gowns passed long ago. Johnny made sure others did it for her now.
Her stomach sank as an ember of anger ignited, his name passing her lips like a curse. “Johnny.”
The forgotten moments before she found herself in this mysterious place rushed through her mind.
~ ~ ~
Dottie blew kisses to the applauding crowd. She searched their faces for her fiancé’s. Johnny usually sat at the table closest to the stage, but his chair remained empty. The blinding spotlight kept her from making out anyone further back.
Regardless of the shouts for more, she proceeded backstage. Accepting the lemon honey spritzer handed to her, Dottie sipped it and soothed her worn throat before setting it aside. Her grandmother used to insist the only way to stay a successful singer, required caring for your voice like your life depended on it. Grams had come across the recipe while performing for the troops during the Second World War. The demanding USO tour schedule she’d kept had taken its toll on the poor woman. Much like the current tour Dottie’s missing manager scheduled. If they ever found where he’d run off to, she’d give him an earful.
She should stay and be polite by chinning with the crew, but small talk held less appeal than rushing off to the man she meant to marry. Without a second glance, she left her helpers where they stood. Butterflies filled her belly every time she pictured the way he’d nibble her ear and croon on about how much he loved her. She’d gone in headfirst.
A strong woman in most aspects of her life, she usually entered relationships with caution. But since her manager’s disappearance, she’d needed Johnny’s help. And before she knew it, his male attention had muddled her brain.
Dottie paused at her dressing room door, reaching down to slide off the dazzling shoes that were slowly cutting off her circulation. She caught a light pounding coming from inside. Johnny, settin’ up the room? Being her first night of a week-long gig, it would be like him to make everything perfect to ensure her comfort.
She threw open the door. “Johnny baby, Black Diamond is the cat’s pajamas, exactly like y’all promised.”
Normally Dottie fought her southern drawl, but she wanted to be herself around him. From the moment she’d contemplated a better future as her small appleknocker hometown faded in her rearview mirror, she’d sworn no one would ever know she hadn’t been born and raised in the north. Like all the other wealthy bombshell dames gracing the silver screens.
As heavy panting reached her ears, the horrific scene spread out before her. Johnny had their crew supervisor, Violet, bent over Dottie’s vanity as he pounded into her from behind, the other woman’s moans of encouragement driving him on.
~ ~ ~
Dottie wiped the tears from her face. Damn him, and damn his floosy too. She’d do what her mother constantly threatened her stepdad with, and remove his cock to wear it proudly on a chain around her neck.
I jus’ gotta find a way out of this kooky forest first.
Making her way back onto her feet, she dusted off her dress in a mindless motion. The fabric passed beneath her strokes smooth and dirt free.
She studied the once vibrant red dress she’d worn on stage. The satin now appeared drab and colorless. Her bare feet peeked fr
om beneath its hem, as clean as the moment she’d dabbed them dry from her bath. The blind sprint from her dressing room, across town, and up the hill, should have left them covered in filth.
In exasperation, she threw her arms in the air. “Swell. I mus’ be dead and I’m . . .”
She moved away from the tree to scrutinize her surroundings. As much as Dottie hoped she’d end up in heaven, her mother always insisted that, as a willful child trying to pass as something she wasn’t, her final destination would be a bit further down.
The sensation of electricity passing through the air made every hair stand on end as a matter-of-fact reply came from behind. “No, you aren’t dead, but you’re not exactly alive either. You’re in a realm known as the in-between.”
Spinning around, Dottie came face to face with a stranger. Like the tree, he appeared in color, only he wasn’t pink and purple. Instead, a tall man with reddish tan skin, swirling silver eyes, and waist length striking black hair, stared at her as though regarding a ghost. Thick muscular arms crossed over his chest as his shocked expression eased into a slow smirk, highlighting the defined beak-like nose, high cheekbones, and strong chin framing his mouth.
Nervously licking her lips, she couldn’t help but muse, Di Mi. Well hello, sailor.
Chapter 2
Meeting the beautiful woman’s gaze hit Tim like a shot in the gut. He nearly stumbled with the power of it alone. The soul behind those bright eyes sang to him. Pain, heartache, hope, and joy struck him all at once.
He’d met many a folk in this realm, but none ever quite like her. “Do you know why you’re here, or how you ended up here?”
“Well . . . no.” She wrinkled her nose.