The Fourth Soul: (Cards of Death book 4)

by Tamara Geraeds

  “That’s pretty,” Mom simply says, and I shoot Mona an exasperated look.

  “Charlie?” I plead, “can you please show her what you can do?”

  My best friend has munched through half of the pack of cookies already. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, forms a couple of greasy, brown balls in his hand and builds a wall with them in the middle of the table.

  Mom claps enthusiastically, and I slap my forehead.

  “Jeep?” I say.

  He nods and starts moving his hands around like the choir director of a very incoherent musical composition.

  After about half a minute, there’s a knock at the back door that’s still half open. A skeleton peeks around it. It waves at us before trotting inside, its bones clicking and clacking slightly with every step.

  The tattooed ghost makes it walk around the table and stop in front of Mom. It performs a strange dance and takes a bow.

  Mom claps again.

  “I love it!” she exclaims. “It’s better than the circus!”

  “It’s not a trick, Mom,” I repeat. “Try to find a string.”

  She shakes her head. “Strings are old school. So much is possible these days, and it all looks so real!”

  I place my elbows on the table and bury my head in my hands. “I give up.”

  The legs of a chair scrape the floor. “Let me try,” Vicky says.

  D’Maeo speaks up before she can hypnotize Mom. “No, it’s no use. We should show her a memory.”

  “How is that going to work?” Taylar asks. “She’ll just think it’s a trick again.”

  The gray-haired ghost shakes his head. “Not if it’s a memory of hers too.”

  Taylar’s eyes grow wide. His mouth forms a perfect ‘O’. “You want to show her the moment John left?”

  “It might be the only way.” D’Maeo turns his gaze on me. “You can join your mother, if you want to.”

  CHAPTER 2

  “Mom is shaking her head. “No, thank you. Enough with the tricks, it was a great show. I really don’t want to be reminded of that moment in my life.”

  I wrap my arm around her and hold her close. “Actually, I think you should see this, Mom. There’s a lot you don’t know about Dad.”

  She examines my face for a moment and sighs. “Alright then.”

  “Hold your breath,” I advise her.

  The kitchen is engulfed in a bright flash of light as the Shield throws us into the memory.

  Mom lets out an astonished shriek. I don’t blame her. It keeps catching me by surprise too, the sudden jolt and the sensation of your intestines getting turned upside down.

  When we land, I let go of Mom, and we both look around. We’re standing in our own living room, which looks pretty much the same as it does now.

  “Are we in a virtual reality movie?” Mom asks, turning her head to me.

  “No, this is a memory of my Shield. You know, the ghosts you just…” The rest of my words get stuck in my throat when I see her face.

  She’s no longer looking at me but at something ― or someone ― behind me. Her hand flies to her mouth, and her eyes bulge. “John?”

  She walks over to him and gently touches his arm, as I turn around. He doesn’t react.

  “He looks so real. Just like he did five years ago.”

  Tears form in my eyes. He is exactly like I remember him. A strong jawline, dark untamed eyebrows, his beard, moustache and sideburns almost similar to D’Maeo’s, only shorter and with specks of black in them, and piercing but friendly brown eyes like mine.

  He even looks as tired as the last time I saw him, the day before the one we’ve jumped back to. I remember the bags under his eyes getting bigger every day. Maybe it wouldn’t have made a difference, but I can’t help thinking that I should have offered him help. I knew he was worried about something, but an indistinct feeling deep inside me kept me from saying something about it.

  The front door opens, and the Shield walks in.

  “Hey, guys,” Mom says to them. “Nice work, very real. How did you create all these images?”

  Ignoring us completely, the ghosts walk over to Dad and wait for him to tell them what to do.

  Mom waves her hand in front of their faces. “Hello? I’m talking to you.”

  “They can’t see or hear you, Mom. This is my Shield five years ago, when they were still Dad’s Shield.”

  “What’s a Shield?”

  “A group of ghosts that protects a powerful Mage and fights with him.”

  “What’s a―?”

  I cut her off. “A mage is basically a wizard.”

  She finally pulls her gaze away from Dad and looks at me. “You’re still persisting with this story about magic?”

  I swallow a sigh. “Just keep watching, please.”

  Dad hasn’t moved or spoken. He just stands there, his face turned toward the stairs, a mixture of anger, regret and sadness in his eyes.

  Finally, D’Maeo shuffles his feet. “We should go, master.”

  Dad’s head slowly moves up and down. “I know.” His voice is choked up, and he clears his throat quietly. “I just want to see them one more time.”

  Mom reaches out to him as if she wants to touch his face. “He looks so sad.”

  She pulls her arm back abruptly when Maël taps her staff on the floor.

  “There is not much time,” the ghost queen says. “The invisibility spell will wear off soon.”

  Dad dismisses her comment with a wave of his hand. “You can slow down time so I can stay a bit longer.”

  “Of course, master, but it will be harder to leave if you linger.”

  He shoots her a small smile. “You’re right.” After a deep breath, he starts walking. “Just one quick look then. One final goodbye.”

  They climb the stairs silently, and I pull Mom along after them.

  Dad stops in front of my bedroom door first. It’s open a crack, and he bites his lip as he peers inside. When he sees I’m still asleep, he pushes the door open a bit further and slips through.

  He kneels at my bedside and softly strokes my cheek. “Dante, my beautiful, strong son. I wish I could stay to teach you everything about the magical world, but it’s too dangerous.”

  My younger version mumbles something in his sleep and scratches the spot where Dad touched him.

  It’s strange to see myself like this. I’m so much smaller at eleven, and I look so peaceful. Mom’s fits have already started here, but I felt safe because Dad was still here. This is the last day of my childhood. Soon, we’ll find Dad gone, and Mom’s fits will be mine to worry about. Life won’t just be about school and seeing friends anymore.

  I feel Mom’s breath in my neck and turn to face her.

  “Look how small and cute you were,” she whispers.

  Dad wipes a tear from his cheek. “I’ll do whatever I can to make sure you two are safe. I hope you’ll never have to follow in my footsteps, son.”

  In one quick motion, he kisses my forehead, straightens up and leaves the room.

  We follow him and watch him close the door, tears streaming down his face.

  A big lump lodges itself in my throat, making it hard to breathe.

  Mom is also swallowing excessively, but her eyes are drawn to the door on the other side of the hallway.

  Dad comes to a halt when footsteps approach the door. The corners of his mouth move up as five-years-ago-Mom emerges from the bedroom and walks into the bathroom.

  “That’s me!” Mom exclaims. “This is the day your father left us.” She steps closer to the bathroom at the same moment Dad does, and they both watch her younger self comb her hair and put on make-up.

  Tears flow freely from my eyes when I see them standing next to each other like that. This is how it should be. We should all still be together. Why did it all have to go wrong?

  “I haven’t changed that much, have I?” Mom asks, looking at me over her shou
lder when I join them at the bathroom door.

  I manage half a smile. “No, you haven’t.”

  “Isn’t she beautiful?” Dad says to the Shield. His head is tilted, and his eyes sweep Mom’s face and body.

  The ghosts nod in unison.

  “She’s the best thing that ever happened to me,” he continues. “She lights up my life.”

  He sniffs, then shakes his head. I can almost see anger falling over him. His hands ball into fists over and over, and flames burn in his palms every time he flexes his fingers. “There must be another way. I can’t lose them.”

  Mom jumps back. “What is that?” Her eyes are locked on Dad’s hands. “How is he doing that?”

  I clear my throat and wipe the tears from my face. “He was a Pyrokinetic. He could create fire.”

  Maël puts a hand on Dad’s shoulder, and the flames fade. “You can come back once you have defeated the Devil.”

  Younger Mom is humming an Abba song, and Dad lets out a sob. “I’ll miss you so much, Susan. You and Dante are my whole world. Please keep each other safe.” He blows her a kiss and walks to the stairs with his head down.

  When we’re all downstairs again, Dad searches for a piece of paper and a pen.

  Mom’s phone starts ringing, and her voice carries down from the bathroom. “Can you please get that for me, John?”

  Dad opens the drawers of the sideboard with more urgency while Mom’s ringtone increases in volume.

  “John?” Footsteps come closer.

  “We have to go before she sees you.” D’Maeo points at Dad’s hands, that are getting more color with every second that passes.

  “John!” Mom repeats from the top of the stairs.

  “Master?” Maël beckons Dad with her staff.

  He shakes his head. “I haven’t written them a note yet!”

  “I am sorry, but there is no more time.”

  Fire rages around Dad as he moves to the front door. He opens it quietly and lingers in the doorway for a second. The Shield follows without a sound.

  “I’m sorry,” Dad whispers. With his hands balled into fists he closes the door.

  The soft click of it echoes through the living room. An ominous silence descends on the house. I can feel the emptiness covering it like a shroud. And judging by the fearful look on Mom’s face as she steps down from the stairs, so can she.

  Next to me, the other Mom lets out a small sob. A second later, we are transported back to the present.

  CHAPTER 3

  Mom sits at the kitchen table with her head in her hands for quite some time. She needs to process what we’ve seen, so I stay quiet and just stroke her back.

  Mona puts another cup of tea in front of her and smiles at me. ‘She’ll be fine,’ her eyes tell me.

  Finally, Mom looks up, picks up her cup and takes a long swig. “Okay, tell me everything.”

  I give her the short version, starting with when I met my Shield and ending with our recent failure.

  We go over all our powers again, and she shakes her head incredulously. “What about your other friends Paul, Simon and Quinn? Are they magical too?”

  I exchange a quick look with Charlie, and he nods his approval.

  “It’s a long story,” I say, “but to summarize it: Paul and Simon are working for the Devil. They are convinced that Lucifer should take over the Earth so humanity can start over.”

  “I’m afraid we had to kill Simon, but Paul is still on the loose,” Charlie says manner-of-factly.

  I gasp. “He’s still alive? I thought Kale killed him?”

  “Unfortunately not,” Charlie sighs. “I saw him move when we were pulled out of the police station.”

  “Wait!” Mom calls out. “What is all this talk about killing your friends? Did you murder Simon?”

  “It was either him or us, Mom.”

  “He’s right,” Charlie says calmly. “We had to stop them.”

  She gulps. “Okay. And Quinn? He seems like a really good person.”

  “He’s an angel,” Charlie and I say at the same time.

  Now her mouth has fallen open. Her cup of coffee hovers in front of her, the swig she wanted to take instantly forgotten.

  After a short silence, she licks her lips. “You’re kidding, right?”

  Laughter boils up inside me. “I had the same reaction, but it’s true.”

  D’Maeo smoothens his gray eyebrows. “He’s the one who healed you.”

  She leans back in her chair and blinks several times. “I remember. It was beautiful. Peaceful, light and safe. I thought I was dreaming.”

  Softly, I pat her hand, grateful that she doesn’t seem to remember much about her time in the hands of Satan. “Mom, I want to ask you to stay here at Darkwood Manor until this battle is over. You’ll be safer here than at home on your own.”

  She takes in everyone in the room, from our fairy godmother Mona, to Charlie and then my Shield. “I’d like that.”

  “Don’t worry, we’ll do some more redecorating in between training and fighting demons.” I wink at her. “I know it still looks like a ghost house.”

  Mom sits up straight, almost spilling the rest of her coffee over the table. “Oh, that reminds me! I found something upstairs.” She puts down her cup and stands up. “I think it’s a secret room. Come on, I’ll show you.”

  Eagerly, we all follow her upstairs. She stops in front of the built-in closet between Taylar’s room and the storeroom and opens the middle door. “I was looking for a towel. When I tried to take a peek here and bumped my head, this happened.”

  After a hard push against the top shelf, it slides into the back wall. There’s a soft click followed by the whirl of a mechanical construction. The rest of the shelves drop down against the wall, which moves sideways with a rattling noise to reveal an elongated, hidden room of about twenty feet deep and seven feet wide. A stuffy, stale smell is carried to us, and I turn my head. The dust that rises from the floor makes me cough.

  Vicky pulls a flashlight from her endless pocket and illuminates the room.

  Before she or anyone else can take one step, Taylar apparates inside. “Well, this is disappointing.” He gestures at the emptiness around him. “There’s nothing here!”

  Maël nudges me gently, and I step out of the way to let her through. She turns in all directions, with her chin raised and her staff in front of her, while Vicky moves the light along the walls.

  “I think there is something here, but we are not able to see it,” the African queen finally says.

  Taylar walks to the small window, which is covered fully in ivy. No wonder none of us ever noticed it.

  He touches the wall, turns back to us and walks through the room with his arms stretched out.

  Maël disappears to the back of the room to let him pass.

  “No, nothing here,” he says when he reaches the doorway.

  Vicky turns off the flashlight and takes out some candles, which she places in the corners of the room. “If there’s something in here, we can find it by casting a spell.”

  Mom leans against my shoulder and whispers in my ear, “She can cast spells?”

  “Not so well anymore since I’m a ghost,” Vicky answers over her shoulder. “Dante here is our superior spell caster.”

  I chuckle at her choice of words. “Please, I’m just a beginner.”

  “A very talented beginner,” D’Maeo adds.

  Mona’s voice comes from behind him. “He’s right!”

  Vicky shoots me a loving look. “He can also write and rewrite spells. There aren’t a lot of people who can do that. Don’t be so modest, babe.”

  My cheeks heat up when Mom’s eyes shoot from Vicky to me and back.

  “Your mouth is open again, Mom,” I whisper.

  She moves her head closer to mine. “Is she your girlfriend?”

  I can’t hold back the grin pulling at my mouth. “Yes, she is.”

  �
��You’re dating a ghost?”

  I shrug. “You get used to it.”

  Vicky comes out of the hidden room and hands me a piece of paper with a spell on it. “About that… there’s something else you should know. About the fits you used to have.”

  A frown appears between Mom’s eyes at the thought of them. “What about them?”

  Vicky looks at me, and I take her hand and pull her closer.

  “Dad was cursed, and that curse affected the woman he loved, maybe also him. We’re not sure,” I explain. “Now that he’s… dead, the curse has crossed over to me and the one I love.”

  Mom’s hand flies to her mouth. Her hand reaches for Vicky’s cheek. “Oh no, poor girl. You have those fits now? I’m so sorry.”

  Vicky tries to hold on to her usual optimistic demeanor with a smile that doesn’t reach her blue eyes. I can tell by the hesitant way she pushes a black lock behind her ear that she’s worried. “Thank you, but I’ll be fine. No curse is strong enough for the chosen one and his gang of misfits.”

  “Hey!” Taylar calls out. “Who are you calling a misfit? Speak for yourself.”

  They exchange a friendly grin, and I turn my attention back to Mom. “Are you okay?”

  She wipes a tear from her eye. “He really loved me.”

  “Yes, he did.” I pull her into a tight hug.

  After a couple of seconds, she frees herself and looks at me with a startled expression. “I might know who put the curse on him.”

  CHAPTER 4

  Mom paces up and down the hallway with her fingers pressed against her temples. “If only I could remember her name.”

  “Just start with what you do remember,” I say.

  She stops walking and shakes her head. “With everything I know now, this makes so much sense. But at the time, I didn’t understand a word of what she was saying. To be honest, I thought she was crazy.”

  She falls silent and stares into the distance, grasping onto the memory. “Your father was away for work, and a woman rang the doorbell. She looked pretty normal, except for the cape that was draped over her shoulder.” She gestures at Maël. “Much like yours, but black with a pattern of woven symbols. She had long shiny black hair, streaked with gray, and a beautiful face. Her whole body and posture screamed sorrow, but determination shone in her eyes. As soon as I opened the door, I knew she wasn’t someone to mess with.”