Soul Inheritance

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Soul Inheritance Page 20

by Honey A. Hutson


  She clung to him as if he would disappear if she let go. The feeling was mutual, but he didn’t have the words to express it.

  “What time is it?” he asked, changing the subject.

  “It’s getting late, too late to head for the house tonight. We’ve got time to walk to the truck for provisions, though. We need a few things,” she suggested.

  “But…” he hesitated.

  Taking the hand with the ring on the pinky she kissed the ring.

  “Don’t take it off, for anything. It’s protection against stuff here. I don’t know what all it works for, but definitely him having any power over you. You’ll be okay as long as we’re together.” Her expression was all business now as she emptied one of the packs and headed for the door.

  “But we were together before,” he protested.

  “No, that was different. He used Nigel to draw you away. He knew you’d do your duty no matter where that was and you fell for it. That thing on the path wasn’t real, it was an illusion. The power of persuasion, persuading us to see something that wasn’t there, to feel that degree of terror so we’d run in opposite directions, separating us. That’s why I had no power over it, why I couldn’t defend us. It wasn’t real.”

  They made the trip to the truck and back unhindered. Once back Katherine unpacked the air mattress and put batteries in the inflation device. It was a bed in no time.

  “I don’t know about you but I’m stiff as hell from sleeping on that hard floor. I’m too old for this shit!” she joked, looked to him for a reaction.

  Jim’s brow was furrowed and he rubbed the side of his skull. “My head is way out complaining th rest of me. God, I feel like I been hit with a bag of bricks.”

  There was no resisting the cringe and nervous chuckle as Katherine stopped to look at the swollen knot on the side of his head. There was a bruise along the edge of the hairline. Gently she stroked the side of his face.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said sympathetically.

  “For what?” Jim asked.

  “Well,” Katherine cringed. “I kinda gave you that. Don’t you remember what happened while he had you?”

  “To be honest it’s all a little fuzzy.”

  “Well, let’s just say he used you to get fresh with Miranda, only she wasn’t strong enough to hold her own and get what she wanted.”

  “I’m confused. I thought she was on our side. She’s part a ya, right?”

  “I’m a little confused myself to be honest. I’m missing something. I know she’s part of me, but there seems to have been a break between her and me. Maybe in the time-line and I’m missing some information. But I’m going to take care of that.”

  “How?” He looked suspiciously at her.

  “I’m going to try controlling my dreams like I did last night to get the information I need. I need to know what separates us, what makes me unique, untouchable. Why they need me to come to them.” She smiled at his frown, hugged him around the waist. “It’ll be okay. I’m learning I’ve got a lot of control. If only I’d known that from the beginning. I need you to do me a favor.”

  Jim looked down into the green eyes and felt his heart melt. He’d do anything for this woman and he didn’t even know why. It was just a fact and he’d come to terms with without even putting up a fight. If that wasn’t love he didn’t know what was, but he wasn’t willing to admit to it yet.

  “What kind a favor?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

  “Just spend a nice evening with me. We’ll make a fire, cook something hot, talk… make love.” She grinned, shot him a questioning look. “What da ya say?”

  “Hum, sounds promising. And the reason for all of this right now?” he asked.

  “Well, just in case.” She slipped out of his arms, turned to her pack.

  “In case what?” he asked, concern creasing his face.

  “In case I can’t control the dreams like I hope I can. After all, I had Miranda to help before. I don’t have her now. This time I’m on my own.”

  ‡

  Dinner eaten, lovemaking over, they laid on the air mattress snuggled closely together. Katherine looked up to see Jim watching her intently.

  “Ya be careful out there. I care ‘bout ya, come back to me.” He stroked her hair with one hand, caressed her face. She only nodded in return.

  Dozing off she tried to put thoughts of him aside, kept coming back to his stare.

  “I’m falling for you, too,” she murmured, slipping off the edge of consciousness into sleep.

  Katherine found herself in a house. Not the one by the lake, but in town. Street lights shined in through gauzy curtains that fluttered at open windows. It was the late sixties, maybe early seventies. A long silk nightgown flowed around her as she looked out on neighboring houses, most of their windows darkened.

  The sound of footsteps on stairs drew her attention inward. A long braid fell over one shoulder as she turned to see who it was. A man casually entered the room, kissed her on the cheek. He looked familiar. It took Katherine a few moments to realize she’d seen his photo in the box from her father’s house.

  “Sorry I’m so late hon. I had some work to do at the store. How was your day?” Her grandfather went across the room, kicked off his shoes and put them away in the closet.

  “Alright I guess,” she said.

  The round clock on the nightstand read nearly midnight. The man she presumed was her husband sat on the edge of the bed, pulled off his necktie, unbuttoned his shirt.

  “Come to bed,” he said, pulling back the blankets and climbing in.

  Doing as he asked she climbed in bed beside him, watched as he turned out the light and snuggled up to her. His hot breath on her neck felt strange and foreign. For some reason she couldn’t explain it felt as though she wasn’t supposed to trust him. Hands wandering he kissed her hair gently.

  “Do you know how much I love you?” he asked in a whisper.

  “Yes. I love you, too,” she replied, not knowing what else to do. What ever this was it wasn’t her life, but one that had already been lived. She just had to follow along and see what happened.

  “Then you’ll understand,” he whispered, his mouth close to her ear as he slipped his hand over her face.

  The pressure was intense, but not any harsher than it had to be. She could feel the tension between what he knew he had to do and the love he had for this woman. From the nightstand he pulled a handkerchief, stuffed it into her mouth, bound her hands above her head while he pinned her down with his body.

  Tears ran down his face. His lips quivered as he leaned down and kissed her face.

  “I’m so sorry, but it’s the only way. You know it is. It’s the only way to set us free from the cycle. It’s the only way to cleanse us so they can’t have us any more,” he cried as he left the room to retrieve the gasoline from the hallway.

  The smell was strong as he poured it around their bed. She struggled, cried, tried to tell him she didn’t want to be saved. Whoever this was wanted to stay where she was, living the cycle over and over. Wanted to build the family back to its former glory. Thoughts of her son and daughter ran through her head. They were her hope, they’d build them back to power, bring in fresh blood, start the empire anew. She fought for all she was worth against the bonds that held her. The leather belt was thick, unyielding as it cut into her wrists.

  As he stood back and took out the match to light it they were suddenly no longer alone. She felt great relief when Greystone appeared at the doorway. He stepped through as the match was lit.

  “Nooooo!” he roared, striding forward, but it was too late. The match fell toward the liquid soaking into the carpet. Flames licked the foot of the bed, springing up all around her. She could feel the heat as the first fingers of fire embraced her skin and she saw Greystone recoil in horror as her husband jumped onto the pyre.

&n
bsp; ‡

  Jim watched her sleeping, felt exhaustion setting in. Before he realized what was happening he had drifted off to sleep. He found himself in a house, climbing a carpeted stairway. One hand slid along the rail, in the other was a can of gasoline.

  Desperation filled his heart, ruled his mind. His soul mate, his eternal love, waited at the top of the stairs for him to come home. Sitting the can by the door he went in; saw her waiting for him by the window, silk nightgown flowing around her body, hair braided over one shoulder.

  ‡

  Katherine woke with a start, squirming and beating at her leg. The jeans she wore smoked as she fought to pull them off. After throwing them to the side she poured the nearest bottle of water on her scorched skin. It was blood red, as if she’d severely sun burned just the place the flames had kissed.

  Jim jumped up in a near panic, paced to the side for a moment, running his hand through his hair.

  “Are ya okay?” Concern drowned his handsome features, but he resisted the urge to approach, remembering the zap he’d gotten last time. Afraid to have his worst fears confirmed.

  “Yea,” she let out a long breath, took another. “Yea. I think so.”

  “Did ya get your answer?” He tried to calm down.

  “Yea. I sure did. I owe somebody big time. No wonder Miranda sought me out. She wants back what she had. Her last husband loved her more than life itself. He killed them both.”

  The wolves sang in the distance and Katherine listened for a moment before continuing. Jim watched her longingly, tried to decide what to do.

  “I don’t know why, but death by fire seems to be a way out. If the soul dies by fire it’s no longer bound to the pact. Though I guess it’s still bound by the family?”

  Thinking about what she was saying Jim nodded. “Fire was once thought to be cleansing, that’s why they burned witches at th stake. That part makes sense, but being bound ta th family, wasn’t Miranda bound differently from the others? Wasn’t she bound by Greystone’s hand, not the pact. So if the pact with th family was broken it doesn’t mean th pact with him would be. Right?”

  Katherine thought about it. “Yea, I guess you’re right.”

  “He didn’t know that. So how do ya break the bond with him?” Jim plopped down beside her on the bed.

  “Either their love has to die or she has to join him.” Katherine sighed, frustrated by a lack of answers.

  “Or,” Jim turned to face her, an idea sparkling in his eyes, “he has to join her. Now ya know two of his weaknesses. Ya just have ta find a way ta use ‘em.”

  Miranda turned inside, churning in her depths like an angered viper. Katherine let her steam. Her own game had turned on her. She’d trapped herself within the one person most capable of destroying them both and given her the confidence to do it by letting her sample the power to be had. It never occurred to her Katherine would have an untapped strength of her own she didn’t know how to use. Now she fought to come to the surface, to take over and stop her before she could destroy the world that would make her strong again, give her power to live for centuries more with everything she wanted.

  Chapter sixteen

  As the sun broke through the trees Katherine and Jim slept peacefully in each others arms. The answers were almost within reach. To Jim important answers had already been found. The inexplicable attraction to the woman he’d waited his whole life for was no longer a mystery. The draw and fascination of McKlannen Lake and everything associated wasn’t as bizarre as everyone had always thought. For the first time in his life he knew he was where he was supposed to be.

  The caw of crows in the trees woke Katherine. She removed the bolt and stood on the porch searching the treetops. Dappled sunlight illuminated the fall leaves. Bright red, orange, yellow and gold glowed as if lit from within and the air seemed lighter. The crows perched by the dozens in the treetops, staring with beady black eyes daring her to finish the journey.

  Taking a deep breath she went back in. Jim was getting up and dressed, reloading the gun she’d returned to him last night.

  “You really think that thing will do you any good?” she asked with a laugh.

  “Well, even if it only makes me feel better it’s done some good.” He smiled at her, gave her a good morning kiss.

  “You have a point there.” She smiled, subconsciously looked at the hand with the ring on the pinky finger.

  “It’s still the’re. I’m not about to take it off.” He turned it on his finger. “But wouldn’t it be better spent protecting its real owner?”

  “No. I’ve got my own protection, not to mention my trump card. Miranda’s what he wants. In my body with the family power intact, to start over. Who knows how many souls are in some sort of holding pattern waiting to be born back into the family. After all, they can’t go anywhere else, until there are children born to the line, or the pact is broken, or maybe passed on, they’re stuck.” She proceeded to fill her pack. “I’m the safest person here in a warped sort of way.”

  “I have another weapon.” He went to the table, retrieved two small squirt bottles that, until this morning, had held liquid soap. “I filled them with lighter fluid. One good squeeze and a match and you’ve got a good fire.” He tucked it into her pocket, followed by a lighter. “Don’t hesitate. He’s got to join her and I think that’s probably the only way.”

  The morning seemed to drag as they hiked out to the lake. She was relieved when she finally saw the water, afraid she might still be caught in the loop she was in yesterday. The crows seemed to disappear as they hiked along to the cove and on toward the house.

  Feelings stirred in Katherine. Nostalgic ones. Miranda was still some part of her and this was still home. What had been filled in as the memories of the other lives passed through her mind. The reflections of the stained glass windows dancing on the water throughout time, the stone lions with the torches in their mouths lit, guarding the entryway. The house in all it’s grandeur over the years, carefully maintained, carefully tended. Until the last faithful lover had lured her away, tricked Greystone with dreams of re-establishing power, to save them both.

  The silence between them remained as they approached. Suddenly the house became visible through the trees, then they were standing in the few feet between it and the forest. It towered above them, empty windows staring out like a dozen eyes. Darkness resided behind those blank stares. If the eyes were windows to the soul then the soul of this place was nearly empty, all but extinct. Still it held some sway, offered her some strength.

  Sadness crept into Katherine. It felt as though she were returning to find that home had been nearly destroyed. The emptiness of the house reflected her own life until she’d met Jim. Even that was so new as to be uncertain and therefore unreliable. This place shared things in common with her, things that spanned centuries. It was not the house that was depraved, or even the lake, but the parasites that fed off of them.

  “Time to clean house,” she whispered and for the first time the sprouts of hope began to grow.

  The stone lions were covered with vines that laced up the hand rails and along the porch railing. Carefully she walked up the steps, testing them for stability, finding that they gave, but held her. The porch was frayed along the edges where the weather reached it, but was solid otherwise.

  The door stood, solid and unyielding before her. She understood now that the house, the lake, was its own entity and she must prove to it that she was its master. Putting her pack down she unzipped the outer pocket and withdrew the key. It fit perfectly into the keyhole.

  The stain where she’d hit her head was still there on the faded graying wood. The knob turned with a squeal of years untouched, but it turned. The hinges screamed much louder, resisting as she pushed on the door. Dust flooded out of the opening in a cloud, causing her to pause, squinting her eyes. The musty smell of time and decay greeted her, welcoming her t
o a home that had waited decades for her arrival.

  Katherine stepped through the opening, a half dozen pasts flowing through her mind like horses on a merry-go-round. It spun, showing her how little it had changed from one life to another. Small adjustments that corresponded to the era in which the life had been lived. Hardwood floors gleamed in one, handmade furniture lining the entryway, oriental runners in another – floral patterns of the time. Vases of varying colors and patterns with flowers of the season, candle holders, candelabras, more modern designs. Eventually primitive electric lights whose outlets now stood empty, lines running from one to another secured to the ceiling.

  Jim stood beside her, finally put one hand on her shoulder, bringing her back to the present. The grand staircase ascended before them, cobwebs running through the spindles of the rail as it climbed toward the second floor. The entryway furniture still stood in its place, a hall tree reflected back her image through a dusty veil.

  Stepping forward Katherine looked to the left, where the sitting room sat as it had once been, an old fashioned formal couch under the window facing a large fireplace on the inner wall. A painting hung over the mantel. She wandered through the room, stared at the small paintings that hung here and there, was amazed that small sculptures and figurines still graced the shelves.

  “It’s eerie,” Jim said absently, reaching out to clear a cobweb from the face of a Greek goddess on a stand by the window.

  “It’s just as I left it,” she mumbled, running one hand over the woodwork that ran along the lower half of the wall.

  As she came to the mantel she gazed up at the portrait of Charles, standing debonair, his face strong and stern as he posed. On the mantel sat black and white pictures. In the middle was the one she’d seen of her father and his sister, on either side of it their parents, her grandparents. The line fanned out from there, turning at some point from photos to small painted portraits of the entire family line.

 

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