Table of Contents
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
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
The Lost Soul
Jessica Sorensen
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2012 by Jessica Sorensen.
First Paperback Edition: June 2012
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
No part of this book can be reproduced in any form or by electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without the permission in writing from author. The only exception is by a reviewer who may quote short excerpts in a review.
For information: http://jessicasorensensblog.blogspot.com/
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Cover Design Mae I Design
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The Lost Soul—Book 1 of the Fallen Soul Series
Chapter 1
There’s no electricity, no humming on my skin. But standing in the field beside him, I feel electrified, like the lightning flashing across the cloudy sky.
“This is silly.” I frown at Alex and pout out my lip. “We’ve been trying for weeks and I still can’t get it right.”
A crooked smile plays at his lips. His green eyes shine lustrously. His dark brown hair is a mess all over his head and dangles in his eyes. “You’ll get there. Practice makes perfect, right?” He saunters behind me and leans his head over my shoulder. “If you want to break into the City of Crystal, to get your dad back, you’ll have to be able to protect yourself. Dyvinius and the Foreseers aren’t going to go down without a fight.”
I square my shoulders and summon some determination. The wind tangles my brown hair and Alex sweeps it to the side. Clutching the knife, I aim the blade at the target mounted on the tree.
“Breathe,” he whispers. “And focus.”
Releasing a breath, I flip the knife through the air toward the target. It flies like a dart, but stops several feet short of the tree, curving down and stabbing into the grass.
“You’ll get it.” Alex lets out a breath. “You want to practice using the sword instead?”
I tilt my head back, meeting his eyes. “Why does it feel like you’re trying to turn me into a ninja?”
“I’m not. I’m trying to teach you how to defend yourself.” He pauses, his eyes darkening with a look that makes my skin heat. “Although, you’d make one hell of a hot ninja.”
My face remains stoic, even though my stomach spins a somersault. “Yeah, let’s move onto the sword. I think the grass has had enough of my bad aims for one day.”
He nods and heads to his old cherry-red Chevy Camaro to collect the swords. I hike to the tree and pick up the knife. It’s verging on springtime, the leaves blossoming, the grass crisping with the warmer air. Lilacs flourish all around and the forest sings a gentle breeze. There’s peacefulness in the air, but it’s unnerving. Every time it’s quiet, uneasiness plagues me. Even though Stephan and the Death Walkers are gone and the portal can’t open, I fear danger and death are always around the corner, waiting for the perfect time to strike.
“You okay?” Alex waves his hand in front of my face. “What are those pretty violet eyes of yours staring at?”
I blink. “Nothing. I was just dazing off.”
“You’re worrying again.” He rubs his jawline and adjusts the duffel bag on his shoulder. “I told you everything’s going to be fine. No one’s out to get us. We’re out to get them.”
We move to the middle of the field, where the grass is shorter and drier. Thunder booms and lightening reflects in our eyes.
“Are you sure we’re safe out here?” I glance at the dark sky.
He hands me the sharp sword. “We’re fine. Trust me.”
“I do.” I elevate the jagged blade engraved with the inscription: mortem ubique.
He poises his sword in front of him and arches an eyebrow. “You ready?”
I take a practice swing. “Yep, I’m ready.”
He stalks me like a rival, but he won’t hurt me. My feet are rooted to the ground. When he gets close, I spring forward and swing. He shields his knife up and our blades clink together. I twirl quickly and bring the sword around again, hoping that I don’t actually hit him. He ducks and his hand snakes around my waist. He lurches me into him and my sword falls to the grass.
Alex laughs softly and his fingers explore my skin. “Rematch?”
I sigh, resting my head against his shoulder. “I think I might—”
I’m interrupted by the ground, vibrating violently beneath our feet. Alex’s grip tightens on my hip as we’re jolted sideways. The grass splits apart and the dirt rises. He stabs the sword in the dirt and forces our weight on it. But our feet lose traction as the field opens up, striving to swallow us whole.
I grasp onto Alex as my feet dangle into the bottomless hole. I blink, trying to foresee us the hell out of the way, but my head fills with a buzz that crushes inside my skull.
“Hold on!” he screams, shifting his feet onto the flat land. Still holding me with one hand, he rolls on his stomach and catches my other hand. Fighting against the world, he hauls me up, a shoe slipping off and disappearing into the darkness.
We collapse, panting, pulses racing. As the earth rumbles, we scurry to our feet and dash for the car. The ground waves after us, thunder booms, lightning strikes at the trees. It’s the end of the world coming down on us. Again.
Then just as suddenly as the insanity began, it ceases. We halt and slowly turn around. Dirt has overtaken the grass. Trees are singed to a crisp and the sky is inactive and silent. Expanding out of the hole in the ground is a large willow tree. There is a person standing by the coarse trunk, but the branches cape down, shielding the person’s identity. But it’s a person I think I know.
Alex starts for the tree, but I draw him back, shaking my head. “Don’t… that tree’s from The Afterlife.”
His eyebrows furrow as his eyes drift to the willow tree. A woman steps from underneath the wispy branches. Her white hair dances around her elongated face, her red lips are pursed together, and her silver eyes shimmer.
“That’s Annabella,” I hiss, my limbs stiffening. “What’s she doing here?”
Alex aims the sword at her. “Why are you here?”
Annabella—the Queen of Essences—smoothes the wrinkles in her white dress, her eyes targeted on us, her lips refusing to speak.
Alex charily steps for her, a warning lacing his tone. “Annabella, what do you want?”
She smiles, motioning her hand, beckoning us to come closer.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea.” My palms sweat. “This is too weird.”
Alex doesn’t listen. He holds my hand, edging us closer to Annabella and the willow tr
ee. After we’re within arm’s reach, Annabella’s mouth creeps to a smile. Her skin crumbles from her face. Her hair alters from white to grey, her lips thin out, and her silver eyes hollow into her head.
“It’s a trick!” I back away from the Queen of the Afterlife, towing Alex with me. But his feet stay planted. “Alex, come on!”
“He can’t.” The Queen’s grin expands. “He’s mine now.”
Shaking my head, I tug fiercely on Alex’s hand. “No! You can’t take him! Not without me!”
“Oh, but I can.” Her wicked snicker echoes. “You out of all people should understand every situation has a loophole.”
She’s right. On my list of life lessons, loopholes are number one.
“No!” I grunt and dig my sneakers into the dirt, heaving Alex with every ounce of my strength.
He won’t budge, hypnotized by the Queen. He strides for her, wiggling his hand free from mine.
I fall on my butt. “Alex!” I scramble to my feet, but slam against an invisible wall guarding me from the willow tree. I bang my fists on the wall. “You can’t take him! Not without me!”
It’s too late. Alex is beside her as the tree sinks back below the ground. Hot tears escape my eyes. I let out a bloodcurdling scream. “This was all supposed to be over!”
The only answer is the crash of the thunder.
Chapter 2
I jolt awake, gripping the blanket, drenched in sweat, my heart pounding like a madman inside my chest. Silver and blue lightning bolts flash and thunder clatters at the bedroom window. It was just a dream, I tell myself. But being a Foreseer, dreams aren’t always just dreams. Sometimes they’re warnings of the impending future. Alex and I eluded death once, because our souls are connected; something we discovered after sacrificing our souls for each other’s lives. I handed mine over to Helena, the Queen of The Afterlife, who reins over the lost and tortured souls. Alex gave his to a greedy banshee, who was collecting free souls to gain power in the hope of taking the Queen of The Afterlife’s place. But Annabella released us from our duty, stating neither the Queen nor the Banshee could just take one of our souls—they’d have to take them together. It was then that I learned good still existed in the world, because she could have turned both our souls over to one of them.
I climb out of bed, wrap my arms around myself, and pad to the door. The Keepers’ castle is always cold. After moving in, I discovered the brick structure is ancient, with only fireplaces to heat the rooms.
I hurry down the hall, hoping I don’t wake up anyone. I stop in front of Alex’s bedroom door. It’s late and I almost leave. But worry nags my gut. I have to see him—I have to know he’s okay.
My fist falls against the door. “Alex.” Silence returns my knock and I rap on the door again. The sound of my knock reverberates loudly through the sleeping castle. “God, he sleeps like the dead.” I sigh and soundlessly push the door open.
His room is dark. I feel my way around the wall and to his bed. “Alex, wake up.” My fingers search for him, but only encounter the blankets and pillows. My heart constricts in my chest as I remember the dream.
I jump at the sharp snap of the thunder. Rain rushes down, striking the window like needles “Damn it,” I curse under my breath, hyped up over nothing.
Arms envelop my waist and draw me back. It’s Alex and I relax, breathing in the warmth flowing from his skin.
“Where were you?” I turn, seeking his eyes through the darkness.
He’s close, shirtless, wearing black drawstring pajama bottoms. He tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear, his lips a sliver away from mine. “Getting a drink of water from downstairs… What are you doing up this late at night? In my room?”
I shrug. “I had a dream and couldn’t go back to sleep.”
“A bad one?” he questions. Lightning blazes outside the window, illuminating the room and his bright green eyes.
I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. “It definitely wasn’t the best dream I’ve had.”
“You want to tell me about it?” he asks, sketching my lips with his thumb.
I yawn. “Not right now. But in the morning I do. I just needed to see if you were okay.”
“Okay,” he says, understanding the dream was about him.
I give him a small hug and start to depart for the door. His arms tighten and he urges my body against his, so every part of us is touching.
“You should stay,” he whispers, his warm breath feathering my cheek.
I hesitate, my gaze skimming to his bed. Whenever things get too heated between us, my emotions get the best of me. Some of them are so fresh that I have a hard time dealing with them. Eventually, I’ll have to learn or our relationship will go nowhere.
“We’ll just sleep.” He laughs at my rigid reaction. “Jeez, Gemma, get your mind out of the gutter.”
I shake my head and playfully shove him. Then we climb into his bed. I’m wearing plaid pajama shorts and my legs are ice-cold. I tuck my feet under his legs to warm them up.
“It’s really coming down out there.” He observes the rain splashing against the window.
“Yeah…” I trail off, distracted by my dream—there was lightning in it.
His finger traces my cheekbone. “What are you thinking about?”
“Just stuff… about you.”
“What about me?”
I find his hand under the blanket and interlace our fingers. “I just don’t want to lose you.” My voice shudders like it always does whenever I speak my feelings aloud.
“You won’t.” His fingers rub the black star marking my wrist—our forever mark. “See this thing right here. It means you’re stuck with me forever, whether you like it or not.”
I stifle a smile, stroke the star on his wrist, and graze his lips with mine, giving him a quick kiss. I lean back, but his hand cups the back of my neck and he deepens the kiss. His tongue slides in my mouth and my whole body shivers. His chest presses against mine and our legs tangle together. I choke my anxiousness down and clutch the hem of his shirt as I roll onto my back.
He shifts over me, rising on his elbows, licking his lips, wanting more.
“You said we were just going to sleep,” I joke, my nerves jumbled.
He arches an eyebrow. “You want me to stop?”
“Not yet.” My breath falters and I seal my lips to his.
He moans in response and pulls me closer, until there’s no space left between us. We stay that way until the sun rises, breaks through the clouds, and silences the storm. As I drift to sleep, cuddled against him, I can’t help but think how beautiful the moment is. But it’s fleeting and soon I’m consumed with a dark thought.
What if our forever has a loophole?
Chapter 3
I wake up to an empty bed. Outside the window, the golden sun glistens across the rippling lake and the trees drip from last night’s rainstorm. I sit up and stretch, ears perking to the voices downstairs. I glance at my watch.
“Two o’clock?” I mutter to myself. “What the hell am I still doing in bed?”
I shuffle into the hallway, lit by lanterns that hook into the brick walls. All four of us live in the Keeper’s castle—Alex, Aislin, Laylen and myself. My grandmother, Sophia, sometimes stays in the master suite, when she’s not off on one of her “travels.”
The castle technically belongs to the Keepers, but none of them visit. Not after Stephan and his slaughtering spree. None of us know how many Keepers survived. We could gather everyone together, but Alex says it’s a useless attempt unless the world is endangered. So as far as I know there are five Keepers left: Alex, Aislin, Laylen, Sophia, and myself. But Alex assures me there’s more.
As I pass the banister, I freeze at the sound of a voice I haven’t heard in a while. I back up and trot downstairs, not caring that I’m barefoot and half dressed in pajama shorts and a tank top. Alex, Aislin, and Laylen are gathered in the living room, having a private conversation. But that’s not what’s pissing me off.
> Nicholas sits comfortably in the opposite sofa, sipping a cup of coffee.
“Why are you here?” I cross my arms and narrow my eyes at the tricky blonde faerie/Foreseer. “I thought we told you to stay away.”
Nicholas’ golden eyes travel up me and a menacing look consumes his face. “Did you throw on that outfit for me? Or do you always walk around half naked?”
I don’t budge so he won’t know he’s getting under my skin. “Again, why are you here?”
He sets the cup on the coffee table and rests back in the red velvet sofa. “Oh, don’t pretend like you don’t want me here. You know you do. You’re still just pissed because I won’t help you save your father from the Room of Forbidden. But I’ve already told you I don’t know where the Crystal of Limitation is.”
The Crystal of Limitation is a device that can free a Foreseer from the solitaire of their mind, also known as the Room of Forbidden—a place where a Foreseer is sent after they commit a crime. Or in my father’s case, they get branded with the Mark of Evil and alter the world’s future by tampering with visions.
I clutch my hands into fists and stalk toward him. “Letting my dad stay trapped in his mind is wrong.”
Nicholas stands up. “Wrong or not, it’s the consequences he has to pay for being a Foreseer who tampered with visions.”
I get in his face, breathing fire. “I fixed the vision. He shouldn’t have to suffer anymore. And you know how to free him, but you won’t share it!”
His eyes scorch like cinders. “Lean a bit closer and we’d be kissing.”
“Move a little closer.” My voice is low, nearly a growl. “And I could kick you between the legs.”
He licks his lips. “You know you secretly enjoy this. Deep down inside, you want to be with me. You just won’t admit it.”
An image presses against my mind of our lips touching, my fingers running through his hair, his hands on my back…
“What’s the matter, Gemma,” Nicholas whispers. “See something you like?”
I don’t have a clue what’s wrong with me, but there’s definitely something wrong because I have never EVER thought of Nicholas that way, nor do I want to. My skin reddens and adrenaline zips through my blood.
The Lost Soul (Fallen Soul Series, Book 1) Page 1