Altered Souls (Witch Avenue Series #2)

by Bolton, Karice

  “1692?”

  I bit my lip and nodded at him.

  “Crazy?” I asked.

  He shook his head, “Not at all.”

  “I mean I’m not trying to make excuses for him, but if we could trace something back through the years there might be a method to stop it.”

  “I don’t know how we’re going to figure this out, but we’ve definitely gotta give it a shot.” He looked concerned, like he was contemplating something.

  “You always make me feel less crazy.”

  His eyebrows furrowed, and he shook his head. “How so?”

  “Ever since you came back into my life, you’ve been this grounding force. Always willing to believe or try out my harebrained ideas, hear me out, whatever it is… You’re there, and I thank you for it.”

  He was in the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water, when my phone buzzed again.

  “So far your ideas have been pretty close to reality. I don’t think they’re as crazy as you think. Intuition is an important part of our world and very few people listen to it. I’d say I’m simply the lucky one who’s in love with someone who’s dialed in pretty good to the universe.” He was coming back with his water and a bowl of chips. “Your mom’s side of the family has always been tapped in to the energies of the world, and it’s even stronger in you. Hopefully it will work in our favor at some point.” He smiled.

  A flash of silver caught my eye out the window.

  “Logan,” I hissed. “Did you see that?”

  He turned toward the window I was facing and looked out. It was gone.

  “I don’t see anything.”

  “I don’t know. It must’ve been a reflection. It’s fun to be this jumpy.” I laughed nervously while he continued to look out the window.

  “I saw it,” he announced. “A flash or something.”

  “Yeah. That’s what I saw,” I said, looking at him.

  He was already at the window, staring out when I reached his side.

  “I don’t see anything out there,” he said, shaking his head. “But I saw what you were talking about.”

  We continued staring out the window for several minutes when I finally decided I had enough.

  “Let’s just close the curtains,” I said, sliding the fabric shut. He closed the wooden blinds I couldn’t reach, and I felt immensely better.

  “You know if that stuff from my mom can come down the family line, why wouldn’t the other be able to?”

  Even though I was next to the fire, I began to get chilled as I let my worries vocalize again.

  “The black magic?” he asked.

  “What if the darkness is inside of me waiting to be roused, and there’s nothing I can do about it? All of this time, I’ve been worried about you leaving me for the dark side and what if it’s me who’s called to it?”

  “Is that what you want?” he asked, setting the bowl on the table.

  “Of course not.”

  “Well, then get it out of your head. We need to recognize that these forces exist out there, but we can’t let the idea rule our lives. Life is about choices. I would’ve thought the one I made would’ve had more of an impact.” His brow rose.

  A smile spread across my face, knowing that he was right on so many levels. He did choose me over black magic. So why was I teetering on the edge of madness worrying about things that I couldn’t control when there were ones that I could solve?

  “Kind of like that spell with Trevor,” I said, staring at Logan. “I don’t care what the spell’s trying to create for my future. It’s not going to happen. I won’t let it.”

  “That’s a little different,” Logan said softly.

  “It’s not,” I insisted. “I’m not going to play the victim on this one. I’m going to find a way to make it stop.”

  “Triss,” he began again, but I interrupted him.

  “I’ve got some ideas, and we’re going to try them all until one of them works.” I folded my arms in front of me. “Like it or not.”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “It’s not that complicated. I remember you telling me how much you admired that I wasn’t like the other girls who always agreed with you. Told you what you wanted to hear and all that.” I got up from the floor and sat on Logan’s lap, and he couldn’t hide his happiness.

  Logan took a deep breath in and slowly let it out as he let my words settle over him.

  “So I take it we’ll be starting with the spider bite?”

  I nodded and grabbed my phone, glancing at a new message from Jenny.

  “She asked if I’d heard from Trevor lately?” I waited for Logan’s reaction.

  “Huh, that’s a tricky one.” His smile did a pretty good job of hiding the pain.

  “I guess we’d need to get our story straight. You still think we can trust her, right?” I asked.

  “For the most part. Don’t you? I think more than anything she might not believe us before she actually turned on us.”

  “I haven’t told her anything about my mom, us being back here…nothing.”

  “Maybe now’s the time,” he suggested. “Just not in text.”

  My stomach began feeling sick at the thought. Where would I even begin? What good would it do? Would she think I’m crazy? She told me not to hide anything from her or Angela.

  Logan sat on the couch and nodded at me for encouragement.

  “I can leave if you want, if it would make it easier.”

  “No way,” I said, dialing Jenny’s number. “Maybe I could build a network like my father, only for the good of Witches everywhere instead of the destruction,” I told Logan as the phone rang and rang.

  “Think we should scout out the town of Saranac Lake?” I asked, thankful for a good night’s sleep.

  He nodded, finishing his cereal quickly.

  “Let’s get a Starbucks on the way out of town. Try another attempt at normalcy maybe?” I joked.

  I don’t know what it was about the evening, but come daylight I felt tremendously better from whatever might have plagued me the night before.

  “I’m tellin’ ya, the whole normal thing isn’t for everyone.” He winked at me and placed his cereal bowl in the sink. “Now let’s get a move on it.”

  “Still get to go to Starbucks, right?”

  He smiled and out the door we went. I hadn’t seen the property in the daylight, but it was absolutely delightful. The landscape was mostly natural, but there were benches and garden paths in many directions.

  “This place is pretty lovely,” I said, plopping into the passenger seat.

  “I’m glad you like it.”

  Logan turned onto the road leading into town. The main drag was already pretty busy with cars and people, but we managed to find a spot to park right beside Starbucks.

  “I hope to make this outing as uneventful as possible,” I smiled, feeling a little sheepish for the previous night’s outburst.

  He tossed a couple coins in the parking meter and into Starbucks we went. Logan lined up at the counter to order our drinks, and I wandered off to the community board, noticing all of the fun festivals, paddle boarding lessons, and local plays that were posted. Then my eyes landed on the flyer.

  My heart began racing. I knew it was him. It was my father staring at me. Did he place this for me to see? Does he know we’re here? The flyer was bright yellow with the words ‘The Praedivinus Order’ above tiny fringes allowing people to tear off the phone number. And many were already missing.

  Logan came up behind me with our drinks, but I was frozen. He followed my gaze to the invitation.

  “He knows,” Logan whispered.

  I turned to face him and saw disgust in his eyes — a darkness like never before.

  “I don’t care that he’s my father. I want to destroy him.”

  “He’s trying to plant hatred in you and it’s working. Don’t let it.”

  I took the cup from Logan, and we walked out of the coffee shop in a daze.

  “Why w
ould he want me to hate him though? Think we should still go to Saranac Lake?”

  He nodded and pointed to one of the empty benches where we both took a seat.

  “Hate is hate. It’s a powerful tool. It doesn’t matter what you initially hate because in time it will grow to include other things,” Logan was staring across the street. He became silent, stirring with something that worried me. The darkness seemed to be slowly reappearing. I wondered if it had to do with his own father’s death.

  “What’s going on?” I asked unable to wait any longer. I needed to know what had suddenly changed inside of him.

  “Last night, I thought about what you said and looked some stuff up. You’re right about your father’s family being in Salem and playing a part in the hysteria.” Something was really bothering him, and it was more than that flyer.

  I reached for his hand, and sat closer.

  “And?” I asked.

  “I think they started it, actually.”

  I looked at him puzzled.

  “In Salem?”

  “Even before. When I started tracing your father’s ancestors, the coincidences were far too great to ignore. Looking at all of those pages you managed to scan from the library allowed me to see things we’d usually ignore.”

  “Like?”

  “There seemed to be a glaring coincidence over the years...everywhere his family was, Witch Hunts soon followed, possibly as far back as 1581 in Europe.”

  “If they’re witches why would they want to start problems for their own community?”

  “Possibly to distract from what they were really up to? Or maybe it was a way of eliminating the competition?” He shook his head. “I have no idea.”

  “I remember seeing maps and dates going back that far, but it never occurred to me to look for that connection.”

  “There’s no way either of us would have guessed it by just looking at the books. I’m not sure what drove me to find the pattern, but —”

  “Maybe we do have help after all,” I suggested.

  “Yeah, maybe so.”

  “Well, we’ve got two options. Your mom or my aunt, and I’m guessing it’s not the latter.”

  “Probably a good assumption.”

  “If it is your mom, that means they haven’t turned her yet,” I replied. “She’s still herself.”

  “All we can do is hope.” He dropped his gaze to the sidewalk. “If your father’s trying to incite something we need to be careful.”

  “I haven’t stopped being careful. I feel as if my entire life is built around me looking behind my back. I’m beginning to pride myself on my different levels of paranoia, real and otherwise.” I smiled, craning my neck to catch his gaze.

  “I know. It’s just that I need you to understand that I will always have your best interest at heart. No matter what decision I’m faced with, it will be to protect you.” Logan’s eyes darkened as he spoke.

  “Riiight?” I asked confused.

  He bit his lip and his body shifted away from me slightly.

  “I feel the same way,” I began.

  “But you shouldn’t. That’s the problem. You need to worry about protecting yourself. You need to think about the bigger picture, especially if everything we’re finding out is true.”

  “That’s ridiculous. My life isn’t worth any more than anyone else’s, especially yours, and we don’t even know what the bigger picture is yet,” I protested.

  “That’s not what I was trying to say,” his voice softened.

  “I love you. How can I not want to protect you? I want you safe.”

  He took a sip of his coffee and put the drink down on the bench.

  “I’m worried you’re going to let this whole Trevor thing distract you from the real issues,” he began.

  “That is a real issue. As real as any of them,” I whispered.

  “Yes and no. If there’s nothing we can do to stop it, then it’s a distraction and your father gets away with whatever it is that he has planned.”

  “It’s not a distraction because I have a plan. Several of them. And one of them will work eventually. Getting my mom and your mom back is the most important thing. I understand that, but I’m not going to allow my destiny to be tweaked by some ridiculous turn of events,” I couldn’t hide my anger. “You of all people should understand that. I will get what I want.”

  He sighed, “Just remember that I will do what I have to do to ensure your safety.”

  I stared at him for a moment before I spoke.

  “Right back at ya.”

  Logan sighed and brought me close to him. Hopefully the quality he found endearing wouldn’t eventually drive him away.

  A scream broke our embrace, and I turned my head to watch a scene of terror unfold.

  A crowd gathered at the base of the church where only the night before Logan and I had been. Many were pointing toward the steeple, but there was another group of people as well and they were calmer.

  “What is going on?” I whispered.

  He shook his head as it became apparent we couldn’t see whatever it was everyone was pointing at.

  We moved down the sidewalk a few feet to see a woman wrapped around the very tip of the steeple. She was using her free arm to flap in the wind. This was the same woman as the night before. She wasn’t drunk. She was possessed.

  “Oh, no,” I whispered to Logan.

  He wrapped his arm around my waist as we both stood helpless. This had my father written all over it.

  “Check that out.” I pointed at one of the spectators who had a bright yellow flyer sticking out his back pocket. He was one of the instigators cheering this poor woman on — exactly like last night when she was on the Land Rover.

  “I will see the light,” she hollered before letting go of the steeple. Her body fell to the ground with a thud.

  Chapter 13

  “Have you ever seen evil like this?” I asked.

  “Only when your father’s involved.” Logan grabbed my hand and pulled me across the street to where the very distinct crowds congregated. The EMTs had already taken the woman away, but the horror her act left behind was still in the air.

  “Hey!” Logan yelled, coming up behind the guy with the bright yellow evidence of my father sticking out his pocket.

  Logan let go of my hand and pushed the guy to get his attention.

  “What’s up, man?” The guy asked, spinning around. I was stunned to see how young he was, probably our age. From where we had been standing he looked much older. He was dressed in a striped polo and jeans. It looked like he was in someone else’s clothes because his haircut looked anything but conservative. His straw-colored hair stood in the form of a mini-mohawk, and he had several rings weaving through his ear. He was pretty spindly, but I’m sure that was on purpose.

  “Interested in what you’ve got going on,” Logan spoke very quietly.

  “How so?” The stranger replied coolly.

  “I think you know,” Logan snarled as his fist landed deep into the guy’s gut.

  A gust of air escaped before he doubled over from Logan’s fury.

  Logan grabbed him and propped him up, making it look like the guy was ill from the scene in front of us. Not like he just got punched in the stomach. The crowd was so blind from what happened earlier to the woman they didn’t even seem to notice this little spectacle. It was amazing how very unobservant the general public could be.

  “Can you bring the car right over there?” Logan asked, pointing to the street below.

  I nodded, but I didn’t want to miss a thing. Watching Logan in action did something to me I didn’t expect. It was like a magnet pulling me to him. Seeing his grave expression mix with his apparent strength was hard not to admire, but I closed my eyes and nodded not wanting to slow down whatever Logan had planned — if he even had a plan.

  I walked quickly to the car and pulled it around. Logan had such a strong grip on the guy that he didn’t dare move in any direction but the one Logan intend
ed.

  Logan opened the car door and shoved the guy in the backseat and then plopped himself in the front.

  “It wasn’t my fault,” the guy groaned, still in agony from Logan’s punch.

  “Where to?” I asked, completely perplexed.

  Logan turned around to face our kidnap victim and raised his eyebrows. “You’ll tell us where we need to go, or I’ll have to force it out of you.”

  The guy nodded.

  “What’s your name?” I asked, turning out to the main road.

  “Preston.”

  “How long have you been involved?” I questioned him.

  “What’s it to you?”

  Logan’s jaw clenched, “Don’t disrespect her.”

  An internal smile radiated deep within my soul. I liked this support. There was no denying it.

  Preston moved slowly in the seat, grasping at his stomach, grimacing.

  “A few weeks,” he replied. “Take a left up ahead.”

  I nodded, following his direction and wondered how much he might actually know.

  “What got you involved with the activities?” Logan asked, his voice a little softer than before.

  “They’re trying to do really good things at the camp. Working on fears that we have or whatever we feel is keeping us down,” Preston responded.

  “Did that woman have a fear of flying?” I asked perturbed.

  He nodded, “That and heights.”

  “So now she’s dead or close to it. How’s that helpful?” I asked, unable to hide my anger.

  Preston didn’t respond, and Logan didn’t take his eyes off of him. The mountain road we drove on seemed to go on forever. With every turn of the road, the homes were less visible and the wilderness more present. It wasn’t a place I wanted to break down.

  “What are you trying to work on, Preston?” I asked.

  “Acceptance.” His voice sounded desperate.

  “You want to be accepted or you want to be able to accept others?” Logan turned in his seat so he could get a better view of Preston.

  “I want to be accepted,” he mumbled.

  “Who’s teaching everything?” I asked.

  “His name is Nicholas Stephen. We only meet with him one on one in the beginning, but then we’re divided into groups he thinks will work out best based on our particular needs.”