The Lost Soul (Fallen Soul Series, Book 1)

by Jessica Sorensen

  He swishes the sword at the air. “I already told you why.”

  “You're not just mad that I went to Laylen for help instead of you. There’s something else bugging you. I can tell.”

  He rubs the back of his neck tensely. “Because you were keeping stuff from me. And I don’t like it.”

  “I’m sorry,” I apologize. “I just didn’t think you’d be on board with going where Laylen went to get some answers.”

  “I wouldn’t have been—I’m not. Delmonte is a dangerous vampire—most vampires are. He could be playing you. For all you know that address you have tucked in your pocket could lead you into a vampire trap.”

  “A trap for what?” I kick a rock out of the way. “What do we have that a vampire would want?”

  His gaze burns my skin. “You.”

  “Nobody wants me, Alex.” I move to pivot the sword, but fumble and drop it. “I have no value other than I’m a Keeper who can’t fight with a sword.”

  “More people want you than you think,” he mumbles, kicking at the dirt.

  Ignoring his comment, I try to make peace. “If you want, you can come with me and Laylen to see Nalina.”

  He relaxes a little, like he’s been waiting for the invite. “I’ll go, but only if you want me to come.”

  “I do.” I flip the sword around. “Now quit being a baby and teach me how to fight.”

  We practice until the clouds rumble, the sky drizzles, and the air chills. We gather our stuff and hike for the car. By the time we reach it, the rain’s pouring down hard. My hair’s soaked, my shirt’s drenched, and I’m shivering from the rapid temperature drop.

  We hop inside the car and Alex cranks the heater. “And it looked like it was going to be such a great day this morning.” He peers up at the sky through the rain-splatter windshield.

  I don’t answer, staring through the rain, at a single red rose petal blowing in the wind.

  “What are you looking at?” Alex follows my line of gaze and his eyebrows knit together. “What the hell is that?”

  The rose petal floats unbothered, making a path straight for us, finally residing on the windshield.

  “An omen,” I breathe, fogging up the side window.

  Alex looks from me to the petal and starts to roll the window down.

  “Stop!” I shout, clutching his elbow.

  He gapes at me like I’ve lost my mind. “It’s just a petal, Gemma. I don’t get why you’re freaking out.”

  “Because Annabella’s world is full of them,” I say quietly, a chill spilling through my body. “Now can we go? Please. I have a bad feeling.”

  He hesitates, then shifts the car into reverse and backs up. Gravel and sludge whip against the mud flaps. The tires spin and the engine roars before stalling over.

  “You have got to be kidding me.” I grimace.

  Alex holds up a finger. “Give it a second.” He turns the key in the ignition and the engine makes a noise like a dying cat. It happens over and over again, until he throws his hands in the air. “Stupid piece of crap.” He bangs on the steering wheel, but then gives it an apologetic look.

  I raise my eyebrows at him. “Guys are so weird about their cars.”

  He pats the steering wheeling gently. “This isn’t just a car, Gemma. It’s a 1969 Chevy Camaro.”

  “Sorry,” I apologize with exaggerated eye widening. “Do you want me to take us back to the castle?”

  He shakes his head swiftly. “I told you I don’t want you using your Foreseer power unless it’s an emergency.”

  I motion at the hood of the car, sizzling against the rain. “This kind of seems like an emergency.”

  “It isn’t an emergency until someone’s running for their life.” He moves his hand behind my neck and draws me closer, ready to fog up the windows more than they already are.

  I put my hand over his mouth. “I think we should go back.” My gaze flashes to the rose petal. “I have a really bad feeling.”

  He lifts my hand away from his mouth. “Five minutes and if the rain doesn’t let up, you can take us back.”

  I’m torn between wanting to get the hell out of this field and wanting to kiss him. My hormones end up winning. I slant my body over the console and kiss him. His hands find the small of my back and he guides me onto his lap, tangling his fingers in my hair. The rain beats faster, showing no sign of letting up. His lips travel down my jawline, my throat, my shoulder. I feel it again, emotions aching through my body and I want to bolt.

  “Alex,” I groan, debating. “I think we should…”

  Suddenly, like a tornado swooped through, the car windows shatter. Sharp rays of glass tear through the air. Alex protects my head with his arms, pressing my cheek against his chest, which is rising and falling with shocked breaths.

  “What the heck was that?” I peek up. White and red rose petals, like blood and snow, funnel toward the car. “Alex we have to go. Now!”

  He nods as the car jolts to the side. I grip onto his shoulders, feeling a burn in my heart, as if something is trying to enter through my chest. I shut my eyes, picturing the grey stone castle. The car lurches again and Alex’s fingers dig into my hips.

  “Gemma…” There’s warning in his voice.

  I snap my brain into focus, picturing the peaking towers of the castle, the lake that ovals the ground in front of it. A shiver ices my blood. I sense the presence of the Queen. I feel death like a cold winter. Right as it consumes me, I take us away, leaving all of it far behind.

  ***

  Foreseeing in a state of panic should be against the laws of the Foreseers. Because it doesn’t mix well. Somehow, I drop us in a tree. Plunging toward the ground, Alex manages to snag onto a branch. The sharp edges stab at my skin as I’m yanked to a stop, grasping onto him.

  “Grab onto that branch,” he orders, giving me a gentle swing to the right.

  I stretch my arms, hitch the branch, and grind to a halt, panting for air. Slipping my hand out of Alex’s, I hook onto the branch and swing my legs up, securing myself on top of a thick branch.

  Alex heaves up and balances on another branch. “I’d like to know how you ended up dropping us off here.”

  I catch my breath. “I have no idea, other than it might have been the feeling of death.”

  He scoots to the back of the branch. “The feeling of death?”

  I inch to the trunk, ripping away leaves in my path. “Yeah, didn’t you feel it?”

  He leaps to a V in the trunk, extends his hand, and helps me to a flat spot. “Gemma, I’m not sure you felt death,” he says. “You and I’ve felt death before, remember?”

  “I didn’t feel like I was dying.” I scale down the branch, my senses sharp to the sounds of the forest and the feeling that we’re not alone. “It felt like death—cold, empty, frightening. And those flowers represent death—or life after death, I guess. You really didn’t feel it?” My feet touch the ground as he jumps the last few feet, his shoes hitting the dirt with a thud.

  “The only thing I felt was a lot of wind.” He plucks a fragment of glass from my hair. “And a lot of glass.” He pauses. “It was just a storm Gemma. And storms happen sometimes.”

  We weave through the trees, hiking along the shore of the lake, in the direction of the castle. I can’t shake the feeling that there’s something following us, but every time I check over my shoulder, no one’s there.

  “I know she was there,” I mumble, dodging a fallen tree. “I could feel her.”

  “The Queen of The Afterlife?” Alex checks. “You know she can’t come up to the Human Realm, right? It’s forbidden.”

  “Just because it’s forbidden,” I duck under a canopy of leaves, “doesn’t make it impossible.”

  Alex scratches his head, at-a-loss for words. We make the rest of our journey to the castle in silence. At one point he takes my hand and caresses his thumb along the star on my wrist like he’s reassuring himself that it’s still there.

  But what if it wasn’t? Would
he still be my other half?

  Chapter 5

  “He found out,” I announce to Laylen as I arrive solo into the living room of the castle. The lamp is on and a fire crackles in the fireplace, lighting up the night creeping through the windows.

  Laylen sets down the book he was reading. “Who found out what?”

  I flop down on the couch and let my exhausted arms drape on the armrests. “Alex found out about our little rendezvous tonight.”

  His face falls. “Is that why you’re covered in scratches?"

  I glance at the red lines on my arms. “No, that was from a… windstorm.”

  “Why did you say windstorm like that? Like you really didn’t believe it?”

  “Because I don’t believe it was a windstorm.” My head falls against the back of the couch and I stare up at the domed ceiling. “I think the Queen of The Afterlife might be after us.”

  “W-what,” he stammers. “How did you—again, what?”

  I quickly give him the details of my dream.

  “Son of a bitch.” His wide eyes look like pieces of blue sea glass. “I thought we were done with all that junk. You know, the death, the kidnappings.”

  I shrug, picking the dirt out of my fingernails. “Maybe we are. It was just a dream. At least Alex seems to think so.”

  Laylen sucks on his lip ring. “No he doesn’t. He just won’t admit it. But I can almost guarantee that right now, he’s upstairs trying to figure out if the Queen of The Afterlife can cross over.”

  I glance over my shoulder at the hallway. “You think?”

  “I’m guessing.” He rises to his feet, picks up the book, and tucks it under his arm. “Do you want to still meet up tonight?”

  “Absolutely,” I say as we squeeze out of the room. “I have no desire to put my father’s rescue mission on hold.”

  He gives me a small smile. “I didn’t think so.”

  We part ways at the top of the stairway. I smack myself in the forehead, realizing I forgot to tell him that I invited Alex too. When I reach Alex’s room, I enter without knocking. The bed’s made, the ceiling light’s on, and the bay window is wide open, blowing in the cold air. I rush over and lock it.

  “Alex,” I call out, hugging my arms around myself.

  The bathroom door is closed. I know better than to walk in there without knocking.

  “Alex,” I say, keeping my distance from the door. “Are you in there?”

  “Yeah.” He coughs. “Can you come in here? I need your help with something.”

  I step back. “No thanks. I think I’ll wait out here.”

  The door swings open and fog pours out. From the doorway, Alex greets me with an annoyed look. “Really.”

  “You’re in the bathroom.” I shrug. “How am I supposed to respond?”

  He shakes his head and tugs me inside the confined area. The shower’s running and the heat fogs the elongated mirror. The porcelain sink is speckled with blood and muddy boot prints track the tile floor.

  “Are you hurt?” I ask, noticing he’s grasping his side.

  He holds up a finger. “Now don’t freak out.” He exhales loudly and yanks off his shirt.

  I fling my hand over my mouth. Across his muscular chest is an enormous gash, bleeding profusely. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?” I breathe through my hand.

  He lowers my hand from my mouth. “That’s the part I need you not to freak out about… It just happened.”

  My eyes scan the bathroom walls and the corner shower. “Did you fall or something?”

  He turns on the sink faucet and dips a hand towel under the water. “When we got back, I felt this sting across my chest. When I looked, the cut was just there.”

  I hate blood, but not wanting to come off as an unsympathetic jerk, I gently touch the edge of the cut, forcing back my gag reflexes. “Are you sure you just didn’t feel it until we got back? It looks like a piece of glass could have done it.” Actually, it doesn’t. It looks like a large, jagged knife took a beating to him.

  “I’m sure it wasn’t from the glass.” He presses the wet towel against his chest and winces. “I actually felt when it cut me.” He points to the medicine cabinet behind me. “Could you get me some peroxide out of there?”

  I open the cabinet and hand him the peroxide. He unscrews the lid and douses his skin with the bubbling solution, his face twisting in pain. He shoves the bottle back at me, every muscle in his body taut. I set the bottle on the counter and take out a roll of gauze. I turn my head away and hand it to him.

  “I think it might need stitches.” He takes the gauze.

  I fix my eyes on the wound and measure the severity. “Maybe, but I’m not an expert.” My fingers outline the gash. “Alex, this is deep. Like really, really deep.”

  “I know,” he says. My hand begins to fall, but he traps it against his rock-hard chest, blood leaking out and staining the fiery Keepers mark circling his ribcage. “That’s why I need you to go in the basement and get the first aid kit.”

  I nod and leave him in the bathroom to strip off his clothes and climb in the shower. The basement is full of cobwebs tangling the ceiling beams and dark corners. There are narrow rows of shelves. I search them, looking for a white box. I spot it at the top. Planting my sneakers on the bottom shelf, I prop up and snatch the box. My fingers bump a glass surface. A small ball rolls off the shelf, crashes against the cement floor, and splits in half. I step down and pick up the pieces, anger snarling in my veins.

  “He said he didn’t know where it was,” I mutter, turning the pieces over. The glass sparkles with a teal shimmer. “The Crystal of Limitation—he said we’d be better off finding another way.”

  Clutching the broken halves and the first aid kit, I stomp up the stairs and into the bathroom that connects to Alex’s room. He’s in the shower, the curtain drawn closed, but I don’t care.

  I chuck the kit on the counter loudly to get his attention. The curtain inches open, and Alex peeks out, dark hair dewed with water, a wicked glint in his eyes.

  “Want to join me?” he asks with a mischievous arch of his eyebrow.

  I set the sections of the crystal on the countertop and his face falls.

  “Gemma, I can explain,” he says hastily.

  “I don’t want to hear it.” I storm out the door. The water shuts off and by the time I step over the threshold, his hand comes down on my shoulders.

  He whirls me around to face him. A towel rides low on his hips, water drips down his solid chest, and his eyes sting with fire. “Would you let me explain first before you go stomping off?”

  I’m flustered by the sight of him half-naked, but refuse to surrender my rage. I fold my arms and impatiently wait.

  He rakes his fingers through his soaked hair, splashing droplets of water all over the place. “Yes, I’ve been hiding the Crystal of Limitation. But it was for a good reason. I didn’t want you to use it.”

  “That wasn’t your choice to make,” I fume. “I’m the Foreseer. It’s my dad. Therefore, it’s my decision.”

  He tightens the towel on his waist. “It’s dangerous. The amount of energy you’d have to channel… it could kill you.”

  “Again, not your decision. You always do this. You hide things because you think you’re helping me, when all you’re doing is hurting me. Do you know how crazy it drives me, knowing my dad is trapped in his own head and I can’t do anything about it?”

  “I understand more than you think,” he mutters, dazing off, then blinking back into focus. “And what’s so wrong with me wanting to protect you? What’s wrong with wanting to protect the one you love? You handed over your soul to keep me alive.”

  I cross my arms. “And vice-versa.”

  “Exactly.” He confines my face in his hands. “That’s why you should understand. I didn’t want you searching for that kind of power. Not after we just got rid of it.”

  I huff out a furious breath. “It doesn’t matter now because the damn thing’s broken.”
>
  I escape from his hands and fume out the door. This time he lets me go. I bang on Laylen’s door. I keep hammering my fist against it until it flies open.

  Laylen’s eyes are wide with shock. “What’s the matter?”

  I slip by him and he shuts the door. There are clothes all over the bed and hangers spilling out of the closet. I pace the floor, anger raging. He watches me, not daring to ask until I’ve calmed down.

  “I can’t believe he’s been lying this whole time,” I finally say. “All this time it’s been hiding down there and he knew. He knew!”

  Laylen rubs his face, confused. “Gemma, I know you’re mad, but would you mind explaining to me what’s going on? Because I’m really lost.”

  “Alex had the Crystal of Limitation down in the basement the whole time. And now it’s broken.”

  He catches my arm. “Are you sure he knew it was there?”

  I nod vehemently. “He just admitted it. He said it took too much energy to use it and he didn’t want me going to look for that kind of power.”

  “That wasn’t his decision to make.” Laylen releases me. “But still, I can kind of understand where he’s coming from. He was just trying to protect you.”

  “Then he should have just told me that to begin with.”

  “Yeah, but you know how he is. He always keeps stuff like that to himself, thinking he’s doing everyone a favor.”

  I calm down a little. “I know, but I wish he’d stop.”

  “Then you should talk to him about it,” Laylen suggests, scooting the hangers into the closet. “Talking helps.”

  “Have you talked to Aislin yet?” I ask. “Now that Alex knows about Nalina, it’s not a secret anymore.”

  “I told her, but she’s still pissed.” He frowns. “She said she’s sick of you and me keeping little secrets.”

  “I’m sorry.” I exhale loudly. “This is my fault. I never should have asked you to do any of this.”

  “What’s done is done.” Laylen pulls a leather jacket out of the closet. “So we might as well go see what Nalina knows. Perhaps she knows something we haven’t thought of yet.”