by Elara Skye
She shook her head back and forth, trying to dispel the image. Hot tears bled down her cheeks as it came again and again, and Amelia couldn’t have cared less about how her clothes were being muddied on the ground. It took so long for the wave to subside, and the world grew silent when she finally calmed down. Amelia stopped moving, stopped thinking, and came damn near close to breathing as well.
Her phone vibrated again.
Amelia looked at it over her shoulder, turning and grabbing it off the seat—where it had bounced to—and answered the call.
“Hello?”
“Finn,” she drawled.
“Hey, are you done with your meeting?”
She leaned against the seat, the night air cooling her wet cheeks. “No.”
“Oh,” he sounded concerned. “Is it going to be much longer? I wanted to come by and talk to you about something.”
Wetness tinged Amelia’s eyes, and she felt numb. They trailed to where her mother’s spirit lay, to where it rotted into a festering corpse, and she winced again.
“Amelia? Are you alright?”
“I can’t talk,” she ground out gruffly.
“What’s going on?”
“I have to go.”
“But—”
“Goodbye.”
The phone merely slid from her hand. Amelia looked over her shoulder, remembering that she wasn’t alone between then and the time he called—there were two other people here with her, though they were gone now.
The moment she looked back to where she had passed out, she recalled the rotting apparition again—again, and again—relentlessly dragging her back to the moment she saw it the first time. Each vision cut through her nerves with a blistering fury. It was the melting and decaying skin which tarnished the image of her mother’s face, and she could no longer see one without the other.
Amelia knew it wasn’t real. But that man, Alastair—monster, demon, whatever he was—had done this to her somehow.
It was his fault.
Fuck him for it.
Fuck Alastair.
And fuck Raymer.
Fuck all of them.
They were going to pay. Somehow, somewhere, someone was going to pay. For this, and everything that led to it.
She heard a whisper then, deep within the recesses of her heart. It wasn’t a voice, nor was its command discernible. It was merely a whisper, and perhaps it had been there all along, hidden by something. Her breathing calmed as it coaxed her away from guilt, while one by one, it forgave the dark impulses that rose in the absence of light.
Chapter twenty-four
“She’s still not answering, damn it,” Finn cursed the following day.
“It hasn’t been twenty-four hours yet.” Alaric eyed him as he paced back and forth in their apartment. “Police wouldn’t even file a missing persons report.”
“We’re only a few hours short,” he said as he looked down at his phone, biting his lip as he waited on a call. “Has anyone called back?”
“No, no one.”
“Fuck. This isn’t like her.” Finn shook his head. “It just isn’t. I know she’s not dead, so she should’ve answered by now. When’s Cat getting here?”
Alaric rolled his eyes. “I still don’t think you should’ve gotten her involved in this. You’re making everyone more nervous than they need to be.”
“Cat’s the one who called me, Alaric, doesn’t that resonate with you a bit?” He stopped to glare at his friend. “I understand that Amelia’s just some human to you. But the last time she didn’t answer her phone, it’s because her house got broken into.”
“You’re right, she is just some human to me,” Alaric agreed. “And humans have lives. Sometimes they don’t tell their friends and family when they need a break. Amelia just lost her dad, so maybe she needs one.”
“Which part of ‘it’s not like her’ is unclear to you?”
Alaric held his hands up. “I’m just trying to tone down the panic. Amelia’s still wearing your necklace, right?”
“I have no idea, she changes her apparel every single day, and she takes her jewelry off before she showers. I have no idea what she was or wasn’t wearing last night.” Finn shook his head. “Something happened. I know it. Something’s not right.”
There was a knock at the door.
“That’s Cat,” Finn mumbled as he went to open it.
Sure enough, she was on the other side, clutching her purse anxiously. “Hey, Finn.”
“Hey, Cat. Come in.”
“Thanks.” She strode in stiffly. “Have you guys heard from Amelia yet?”
“No. Have you?”
“No. She’s not answering any of my calls or texts.”
Finn threw Alaric a hard look. “Still think she’s just taking a break?”
Cat leveled a flat stare at him. “A break? That’s what you were going with?”
He shrugged. “I just thought it’d be worth including in the list of possibilities.”
“Yeah, no,” she quipped, turning to Finn. “Remind me what she said to you after the meeting with her lawyer?”
“Not much, only that the meeting wasn’t finished and that she had to go.”
“Was there anyone else she was going to meet last night?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Okay.” Cat frowned as she considered it, resting her hands on her hips. “Is Raymer back in town yet?”
“Raymer’s coming back?” Finn asked. “I didn’t know that.”
“Yeah, she didn’t tell you? He’s coming back to talk the lawyer.”
“No, she didn’t say anything about that.”
Cat shrugged. “Well, I know she was nervous about seeing him again.”
“Why didn’t she tell me?” Finn furrowed a brow. “I could’ve helped her with some talking points.”
“Because she didn’t need someone to fix it, she just needed someone to talk some shit to,” she said. “And that’s what best friends are for.”
Finn considered it a moment. “Alright. Even if he is in town, I don’t see how that would occupy her all day like this. She could write or call one of us back, at least. Did she have a shift?”
“No, not today.”
“So, we don’t know if her absence has reached that point yet.”
“Yeah, I’d panic more if she missed work.”
“Well, we shouldn’t wait to see if she misses her next one.” Finn looked at Alaric. “I’m calling Seraphina.”
Alarm shot through his features. “Hold on, there—are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“She was plenty helpful last night. I don’t see any reason not to.”
“Who’s Seraphina?” Cat asked.
“She’s an associate of ours.”
“A distant one,” Alaric emphasized. “Are you sure we can trust her?”
“Why shouldn’t we?”
“Because if she finds out some sensitive details about us, she has no reason not blab about it.”
“She already knows about them, Alaric.” About their dealings with demons. “She’s well aware, and she hasn’t said anything.”
Alaric fell silent. “Really?”
“Really.” He nodded. “I’m going to go give her a call.”
“Where are you going?”
“To the roof.”
Cat eyed him curiously. “You’re going to the roof to take a call?”
“I need some fresh air,” Finn said, heading toward the door. “You two stay here and...brainstorm.”
Cat and Alaric exchanged glances. As the door closed behind him, Finn heard her mutter, “Brainstorm about what?”
The air was icy as Finn stepped onto the roof, dialing Seraphina’s number. She answered almost immediately. “Hey, Finn, what’s going on—?”
“Amelia’s missing,” he spat, letting loose some of the tension. “She hasn’t answered her phone to anyone that’s tried to call, and I have no idea where she might be.”
“Woah, slow down�
��what’re you talking about?”
“Last night, she met with her lawyer, and no one’s heard from her since.”
“What’re the chances she’s just off somewhere by herself?”
“The last time she ignored her phone was when her house got broken into.”
“I hear you.” Seraphina’s voice appeared in person behind him. “You think something happened.”
Finn whirled to face her. “You’re here—that was fast.”
“It was an emergency, right?” She hung up the phone, slipping it back into her pocket. “Tell me what you’ve done so far. Have you tried tracking her?”
“No, we’re just short of twenty-four hours,” Finn said. “We haven’t traced her phone yet.”
Seraphina furrowed a brow. “I’m not talking about the police. I’m talking about you tracking her.”
“What do you mean?”
Seraphina frowned. “You’re kidding, right? You’re a guardian, and you’ve never tracked a human before?”
“I haven’t had a reason to. The only person I’ve ever had to keep an eye on is Alaric.”
“Okay, well, humans work the same way. You track them by soul activity. Once you pinpoint her location, we can go there.”
“Alright.” Finn nodded. “Tell me how to do it.”
“They’re trickier than us because their souls are so much smaller. Since you’re her guardian, it should be easier for you. Just try to think of something that’ll connect you to her. A memory, or something like that. At some point, you’ll feel a tug—follow that tug, and don’t let it go until you find her.”
“Alright, I can do that.”
“Okay.”
With a steady breath, Finn closed his eyes. Of all the memories to choose from, he settled on the night they met at the church—the night they connected. Amelia had tried so hard to conceal the tears that stained her cheeks. The night had visibly devastated her, yet still, she smiled at him when they spoke. In the end, Finn learned that Amelia’s soul was remarkably untarnished from all the hurt she’d been enduring. She maintained an unscathed core that weathered life’s misfortunes as they passed.
“Seraphina?” he mumbled.
“What’s up?”
“When is the tug supposed to kick in?”
She was silent for a moment. “You mean it hasn’t?”
“No, I don’t feel anything.” He opened his eyes to her perturbed expression. “Does that mean something?”
“Try again.”
“Okay...” Finn tried again, disliking her concern. The second time around, Finn thought of their actual meeting, remembering how lovely she appeared behind the bar. To this day, he never forgot the shock and wonderment in her eyes, her unsteady demeanor when she first witnessed celestial magic.
Finn shook his head. “Still nothing. Does that mean something?”
Seraphina looked reluctant. “There’s only one thing it could mean. Her soul’s displaced.”
“What do you mean?”
She shrugged. “Odds are, it means she signed a contract. If she were dead, you’d still be able to find her.”
“No,” he shook his head, “she wouldn’t have signed her soul away.”
“Are you sure? There’s nothing she wanted badly enough to do it?”
“I’m positive.”
“Then it doesn’t make sense otherwise. Humans don’t just walk around without their souls.”
Finn’s eyes widened with realization. “Unless...”
“Unless what?”
“Unless she strayed into the Ether again and had it pulled from her.”
“No.” Seraphina crossed her arms, dismissing the notion. “Humans can’t enter the Ether.”
“She’s done it before, when she was attacked. Remember? I told you about it last night.”
She looked at him. “Wait. She was inside the veil when that happened? I thought she barely brushed it. How is that even possible?”
“I don’t know.” Guilt gripped him. “But I know it’s my fault.”
“Okay, one problem at a time,” Seraphina speared her fingers through her hair. “Let’s start with soul displacement. Regardless of the reason, it’s a fact that her soul is now separate from her body.”
“What comes next, if that’s the case?”
“Without the soul, all that’s left is the mind and the body.” She arched a brow at him. “Which I assume you’re more than a bit familiar with…”
Finn stared flatly. “You’re not wrong.”
“Then that should make it easier. This time, try to project the image of her for me. It won’t be the same as getting her location, but something about her surroundings might give it away.”
“Is it along the same lines as tracking? Just thinking about her body extensively?”
She grimaced slightly. “Yeah. That.”
“Alright, I can do that.” He sighed, pacing back and forth a bit. “Oh, and, Seraphina?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for this.”
“You’re welcome. Now get to work.”
Finn took a deep breath. The air grew colder around him, his mind straying as he meditated on Amelia. Her smile, her eyes, the touch of her skin—among other things. However, the chill that ensconced him felt distant, as did the growing smell of car exhaust. Finn quickly realized that it was part of the vision.
“You got her,” Seraphina whispered. “Open your eyes.”
Finn opened them, and his breath stilled in his lungs. A translucent figure sat before him in the air, the static edges of her body blurring from his broken concentration. He tightened them up again. This version certainly looked like Amelia, but there was an unfamiliar deadness in her eyes. It cut through him each time she looked up, ruminating on the documents in her hands. Judging by her pose, she appeared to be sitting on a picnic table, or perhaps a retractable bench.
“Call her.”
Finn looked at Seraphina. “What?”
“Call her now.”
Finn’s phone was still in his hand, and he dialed her number. Like clockwork, her eyes flickered down to the spot beside her, and she looked away again.
“Damn it,” he cursed. “Pick up, Amelia.”
“Try again. Keep trying until she answers.”
“Right.”
So, he did—again and again—while the agitation grew in her features. Finally, she let out a huff and turned to her invisible purse, which manifested in ripples at her touch. Finn looked inside, paling at the sight of a gun nestled within the folds of the bag.
“Do you see that?” he muttered. “Where the hell did she get a gun?”
Amelia slid her thumb across the bottom of the screen, answering the call. Her voice was low and coarse, scraping against his ear as she demanded, “Stop calling me.”
Panic shot through him, but he surmounted it quickly. “Why are you still carrying your phone if you don’t want to be called?”
Amelia paused, tilting her head. “You’re right. I should throw it away.”
“No—stop,” he snapped as she pulled her hand away, bringing it back again. “Amelia, don’t—don’t throw it away.”
“Then leave me alone.”
Indifference was overpowering her features, though there was a sliver of reluctance beneath it all. Finn clung to it, proceeding carefully. “I will, just as soon as I know you’re in safe company.”
“I’m fine on my own.”
“Are you?” he asked. “Have you ever been?”
She stared blankly into the air. “I’m alive, aren’t I?”
“You’re more than that—you’re resilient. A fighter.”
The sentiment left her unaffected. “Is that supposed to make me feel good?”
Finn exchanged glances with Seraphina, who frowned.
“Don’t let it get to you,” she said. “Try to find out what happened. She shouldn’t be like this without her soul—not yet, anyway. It’s too soon.”
“Amelia,” he went on, “can
you tell me what happened last night?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to think about it.”
Finn knitted his brows, watching Amelia reared back instantly, shaking her head. Her fingers grappled through her hair as she closed her eyes tightly, shaking her head back and forth, like she was trying to kick away a mental image. Finn watched her slowly normalize again, with a sharp exhale. There was something different in the way she looked at him, the way she struggled with control. Despite the dullness in her eyes, her body trembled and convulsed—not with sorrow, he realized, but with trauma.
Without the soul, all that’s left is the soul and the body, Seraphina had said.
If the soul is gone, and the mind is sick...
Finn thought back to Alice at that moment, how she never got the help she needed—and what came of it.
“Amelia,” he went on, “if you tell me what happened, I can help you.”
“No, you can’t make me unsee it.” Her voice was calm, but tension rippled through her body.
“Unsee what?”
“My mom,” she muttered gruffly, tears forming in her unfeeling eyes.
“Tell me,” he insisted softly, reaching for her through the line.
Amelia’s eyelids fluttered, responding to the sound. “It was like…we were lying in her grave together.” she mumbled.
“You saw a vision of your mother’s grave?” he asked. “Who would do that to you?”
“No one.”
“Amelia, please.”
“You don’t understand.”
“I understand you don’t have your soul anymore,” he said, while she stared blankly into space. “And by the look of it, you didn’t give it up without a fight. Tell me who did this to you.”
“It doesn’t matter,” she looked down at the papers, “no one’s going to win when I’m through.”
“Through with what?”
Amelia settled wordlessly. “It’ll be over by morning.”
His eyes fell to the gun. “Amelia, you don’t mean—”
“I know what I’m doing.”
“Wait, stop—” It was too late. Amelia hung up the phone, and his concentration broke. “Damn it.”
“Finn, Amelia was looking at legal documents,” Seraphina said. “I saw them over her shoulder.”