STAIN (My Soul To Wake Book 1)

by Oakes, Tara

  There’s only one way to get the answers I need. Straight from Liza herself, and that means heading right back to where it all began. In more ways than one.

  ~*~

  “What do you mean you’re going back?” Court’s voice asks through the cell phone.

  My headlights automatically turn on, lighting my path through the early night.

  “I need to do this, Court. I’ll only be gone a few days,” I reason with her.

  She takes a deep breath on her end. “What about the coffee shop? That place can’t really run without you.”

  I think she’s overestimating my role at the store. “Mom’s gonna step in until I get back.”

  I can feel her looking for her next point. “You can’t make that drive by yourself, Leah.”

  Funny, she made the drive by herself, having been behind the wheel for our last trip. “It’s six hours total, and I’m more than halfway there. I’ll be fine. I’ll drink lots of coffee.”

  “I can stay on the line with you to make sure you stay up,” she offers.

  I laugh. “Thanks, Court. I just need to do some thinking, though. Can I call you when I get there instead?”

  I can tell she’s hesitant. “Fine, I guess. But call me if you feel tired. And don’t be afraid to stop overnight if you have to. There are plenty of hotels along the way.”

  “Promise. I’ll call you later.”

  With the newfound quiet, I turn the radio on and keep the volume low on some sappy love song station. The ride was more comfortable the last time I took this route, having been chauffeuredin Court’s luxury car. Now, as I drive along in my five-year-old Jeep Wrangler, I miss the extra comfort her seats provided along the long hard roads, but am thankful in a way for the slight level of rugged discomfort as it helps to keep me awake.

  My mind races over the facts again and again as I pour over the details, playing devil’s advocate against myself, but this leaves me with more questions. Every mile brings me closer and closer to the answers.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “I’d like a room, please.” The receptionist is different from the one I remember.

  It’s late, almost midnight. This isn’t exactly the type of hotel that probably gets visitors of the late variety.

  “Do you have a reservation miss?” She’s very cordial, though.

  I shake my head while withdrawing my wallet.

  “No. I was a guest last week. I decided last minute to come back. I should still be in the computer, I think.”

  Her fingers get to typing the information I recite to her. Once I’m found in the database, my credit card is taken and swiped before a room-key card is activated. I’m handed a receipt slip and rental agreement to sign.

  “We’re so glad to have you stay with us again. Your last room is available if that’s acceptable?” She must be a night owl to be so cheery this late.

  I nod. “That’s fine. It was a lovely room.”

  We exchange the credit card slip in return for the room key. “Excuse me, but will Tom be working tomorrow? The waiter?”

  Erin, according to her shiny name badge, widens her eyes. “He is. He’ll clock in just before seven.”

  I smile. “Thanks so much.”

  “Enjoy your stay here at the Hawthorne Hotel.”

  I stop at the bookcases on my way to the elevator, searching for the very particular title I noticed last week. Once it’s found, I tip the leather-bound spine toward me to free the book from its confines.

  Along with my overnight bag and my new room key, the volume of “Olde Salem Homesteads” comes with me to my room.

  ~*~

  The hallway lights are dimmed in courtesy to the hotel guests sleeping behind closed doors. I find my hotel room not by reading the numbers on wall plaques accompanying each door, but from memory.

  I never thought I would be retracing these steps. My only regret is the late hour will prevent me from moving forward with my plan till morning. I calm myself, reciting that after over three hundred years, what’s another few hours?

  ~*~

  Another short night of unfulfilling sleep passes. In between small little naps, I manage to find what I’ve been looking for in the maps of historic homesteads and farms in Salem. 1692 Salem, to be exact.

  I have the information I need. It only reinforces my theory. The plan I’ve been able to loosely form during my car trip is a little shaky but it’s the best I’ve got right now. I manage to wake, shower, and dress all before six o’clock in the morning, too anxious to wait another moment longer.

  I don’t condone book vandalism or disrespect in any way, but I feel I need to make an exception in this case. I close my eyes and wince as I tear a page free from the binding. The map isn’t easy to read, but based on the information that Will’s given me combined with the dated images on the book page, I should be able to find the place.

  I pass a room service cart in the hallway and admire the sights and smells wafting from the silver trays. I’ve finally gotten my appetite back and need to grab something before I get started on what could quite possibly be the craziest thing I’ve ever done.

  Just as the receptionist had informed me last night, Tom is dressed in his crisp white shirt and setting tables in the small dining room that will welcome the hotel guests for breakfast.

  He sees me approach and does a double take.“Leah?”

  “Hey, Tom.”

  He deposits the handful of glassware in his arms onto the table nearest him. “Does-- does Will know you’re here?”

  I shake my head. “No. Just got into town last night.” I look around to make sure we have no one eavesdropping nearby. “Can I talk to you for a bit? Somewhere quiet?”

  He eyes me suspiciously. “Billy! I’m taking a break. Cover for me,” he calls out to the other waiter working to set tables.

  Tom leads me over to set of doors on the far side of the room. He politely holds one open as I step through into what must be some type of ballroom.

  “Leah, you’ve gotta let Will know you’re here. He’s been a wreck. I’ve never seen him like this before.”He lets me know immediately where his loyalty lies and I respect him for it.

  I nod. “I will. I promise. But, I have to ask you some things first.” I can see he’s wary, but he doesn’t say no, so I guess that’s a good sign. “Why did you set me up with him that night at the bar?”

  He looks surprised. “You knew about that?”

  I laugh. “I kind of suspected. You were pretty specific about what time I should be there and Will told us that he was supposed to meet his friend and his friend’s girlfriend. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think that friend was you and that pretty little girlfriend you showed the picture of. Am I wrong?”

  He blushes. “No. You’re not wrong.”

  “I didn’t think so. What I want to know, is whydid you do it? I mean, you didn’t know me from a hole in the wall.”

  Tom looks nervous. His eyes dart around the empty room. “I just knew you would be good for him. That you were the one.”

  My heart begins to beat faster. “Why?”

  His eyes finally set on me. “Because as long as I’ve known him, he’s never even given a girl the time of day. And it’s not like they didn’t try. He’s had girls crawling all over him and never tried a thing.” I can picture the little bimbos throwing themselves at his gorgeous body.“Every time I would ask him why he never jumped on any of them he would tell me about the girl of his dreams. The girl he was waiting for. The night you checked into the hotel, I heard your friend giving your name to the receptionist. Amelia.”

  Of course Nina would use my full legal name while booking the reservation!

  He finishes his explanation. “He’s described her over and over to me. Not exactly how she looked, but, I don’t know. Just the way she carried herself, the kindness in her eyes. Her curiosity. And even what her name would be. When I saw you that night, something just clicked. I thought you were her.”

  A warm feeling
starts to well inside.

  “But maybe I was wrong, Leah. You hurt him so bad. He finally takes a chance on a girl and it breaks his heart. He’s a good guy. He deserves better.”

  I nod, agreeing wholeheartedly. “I know, Tom. That’s why I’m here. I was so wrong. But, I need to know one more thing. Was Will ever married?”

  Tom laughs, loudly enough for me to search around to make sure it hasn’t attracted attention. “Married?! Leah…he’s like, twenty-three! How in the hell could he have been married?”

  “Are you sure, Tom?” I feel the excitement growing, threatening to explode.

  He nods, probably thinking I’m a nut job. “I’m positive, Leah. He’s my best friend. I’ve known him since he first stepped foot in this town. We used to work for my father’s construction company together. If he were married, ever, I’d know about it.”

  I’m so relieved, I can barely contain it. “One last thing. I’m going to need Liza’s phone number.”

  ~*~

  So far everything is falling into place. I need to keep myself in check, though, and not let any overconfidence mess things up. If she’s half as cunning and manipulative as I think she is, I have to be on guard.

  I park as close as I can to where I remember Will having parked so many days ago. I follow the same course as last time, navigating through the heavily wooded trees, my memory serving as navigation to take me through to the field of wildflowers that was my special place with Will. It may have been special to us in our last life, I’ll trust him on that point, but it’s special in its own right for the life we’re in now.

  The sky is clear, with very few fluffy clouds strewn about. I touch the flowers just as I had the last time, and the way I had in my dream. Whatever positivity this place has to offer, I’ll need it now.

  Pulling out my cell phone, I type the carefully planned out message to Liza.

  It’s Leah. I know the truth. I know everything. Meet me in the field of flowers. I’m sure you know where it is.

  Once I hit the send button, I know I have a limited time to do what needs to be done. The next communication won’t be by text. He deserves so much more than just a text. I remember the night I first met him and how he told me he doesn’t text. How impersonal he thinks it is. I now understand the full weight of those words.

  The phone rings twice before he picks up.

  “Leah? Is it really you?” I can hear his surprise.

  I interrupt him, knowing my time is growing short. “Will, I need you to hear me. I believe you. I believe everything. I need something from you.”

  “Anything, baby. Whatever you need from me.” Just the sound of his voice brings the most wonderful sensations to every part, every level of my being.

  “Meet me at Marcelle’s cottage. You need to be there.” I give him the rendezvous point.

  I can hear his hesitation. “The cottage? Are you-- are you in Salem?”

  A sudden sound catches my attention and I snap my eyes over the tree line. Liza’s bright blonde hair is easy to spot amongst the dark brush. She leaves the protection of the trees behind and walks determinedly toward me.

  “I gotta go, Will. Please meet me there, as soon as you can.” Liza is closing the distance, no doubt hearing every word I’m saying. “I love you.”

  I slip the phone into the safety of the pocket to my jeans, right next to the almost-crumpled map I had been studying all morning.

  Liza’s eyes are their usual hard, cold, stone… set directly on me. Her swagger is cool, calm, focused. Focused on me.

  “What’s all this about, Leah?”Her tone is harsh, and direct.

  I straighten my shoulders.“It’s about the truth. Don’t you think it’s time to stop pretending?”

  Her laugh is even colder than her eyes. “And what would youknow about the truth?”

  Ah. She’s still playing her little cat and mouse game. “Everything. Thanks to you.”

  She cocks her head to the side and smiles wickedly. “Thanks to me?”

  I nod. “Yup. You see…I never would have figured it out if you hadn’t slipped up.”

  She’s trying to downplay her curiosity, but I see it peeking through, getting the best of her. “Really? And how’s that exactly.”

  Back in college I took several psych classes. One of the things I remember is that guilty people, or people who are hiding something, tend to answer questions with questions.

  So far, Liza has done nothing but respond with question after question. It’s her way of finding out what I know without necessarily bringing any information to light that may not be known yet.

  “You worked so hard at making me believe that Will was nothing but a desperately grieving widower. That I was only a person to take the place of someone else. But, right there. That’s what gave you away.”

  She says nothing now.

  “Because Will was never married in this life, Liza.” Here’s the moment of truth. “He was, however, married for barely a night, over three hundred years ago. To me.”

  I see her features stiffen, harden as she tries to maintain control over her facial expressions. “You stupid, stupid girl. You never could just leave well enough alone could you?”

  A cold wind picks up, blowing hard enough to violently attack the petals and blossoms of the nearby flowers. I can feel her anger, and know I have to finish quickly.

  “And you knew that I would find nothing at the tree. You were waiting for that, to be the final straw, convincing me Will was wrong. Convincing me that no good could come from staying here.”

  I gauge her reaction to my theory. “And you knew this because you knew I didn’t really die at the tree.”

  Her eyes widen. The wind picks up, strong and powerful although the weather report was clear. “Then where did you die?”

  I feel electricity charging around me, coming from the woman standing in front of me. “You know where I died. And you know what will happen when I go there, don’t you?”

  Her hands clench tight, fisting themselves. “What makes you think you’re going to get there?”

  I swallow hard and know that I need to run. As fast as I can. I have to run for my life. I turn and move in the direction the map in my pocket had designated. The trees in the distance before me begin to move wildly now, swaying back and forth, almost hard enough to snap. The winds are gale strength, billowing furiously and pushing me around like a ragdoll as I run into them, against their current.

  It slows me down, but I still run. I hear a loud crack immediately before the patch of land to my right is set ablaze. I feel the heat of the flames, threatening to singe me as I pass, leaving it behind.

  The wind is having its way with the wildfire, spreading the destruction. Another crack. Another ball of fire misses me by only inches, burning my forearm as it soars past. I hiss and hold my elbow, cradling my arm in an imaginary splint, yet I still run.

  I know she’s behind me, trailing close. The massive oaks guarding the entrance to the hidden path I must take, sway one last time in the storm, indeed snapping as I imagined they would. I reach down deep for every ounce of energy I have and use it to will my legs faster, to cross under the ancient trees just before they crash to the ground at my back.

  That gives me a small reprieve as she loses some of the gain she had on my trail.

  The sunlight is waning now, stamped out from not only a patch of clouds but also the trees above blocking the dimming rays. A heavy roar vibrates around me, and I know Liza has cleared the obstacle of her making.

  The thick green brush carpeting the forest floor begins to move, individual threads snaking and spiraling near my feet, like slippery little vipers striking and trying to bound my moving legs.

  I yelp as the branches whip and sting my flesh, even through my jeans. I have no doubt that their ferocity and strength is breaking my skin. I can hear my heavy panting, feel the sweat dripping into every fold of my skin.

  I’m almost there, I know it.

  The closer I get, the mo
re desperate she becomes to stop me, knowing full well that I have everything to gain…and she has everything to lose.

  One of the lecherous branches grabs hold of my free arm in passing, holding me captive and snapping my body back, knocking the wind out of me. I can hear her footsteps, rushing through the leaves and jumping over the fallen branches.

  I pull hard but it only seems to tighten the knot of foliage around my bicep. She’s mere inches behind me now. I draw deep down inside and channel my energy of my heartbeat, into my finger, using it to touch the vine at its tightest point. It shrivels and falls free.

  I lunge forward just as Liza’s hands skim down my moving back only to continue their fall down to the forest floor as I leave her behind. I can hear the impact her small body makes as she calls out in pain.

  I don’t look back, I know it will only slow me down. I can see the clearing ahead, and surge through the protective boundary of trees to spring forward and fall at the foot of the wall of broken stones.

  I splay my palms over them and hug them, using them as a resting point, panting heavily to catch my breath.

  The wind that has been heavily working against me now channels itself, spiraling up into a funnel, and bringing any and every loose object with it. My hair blows wildly around and I can feel a scratch against my cheek as a twig is pulled full force into the vortex.

  The center of the corkscrew of wind begins to glow, cracking with currents and volts of electricity. The noise becomes almost unbearably loud, and I want so desperately to cover my ears but I know it will do little to help. I can’t risk taking my hands from the stone foundation of the old cottage.

  The stones begin to vibrate from the loud acoustics and they resonate through my body. I begin to scream as a terrible pressure constricts my body, threatening to squeeze all breath from my lungs.

  And then, just as chaotic and painful the destruction around me had become, it stops. I feel my body lifting, rising and floating. Bolts of lightning strike into my body from the still skies above. Each strike brings with it an image.