“So, how do we change him back?” I asked. “He might be Dark right now, but he wasn't before. If he could be changed to Dark, then he can changed back to Light again.”
Bonnie nodded. “Yes, that's true. He can. But, the power of the Dark is hypnotic, it encompasses every single character trait in a person. It doesn't hold back whatsoever, once it's been allowed inside someone. And once it is within a host, it manifests itself in many ways.” She paused, searching for the right words. “Once something has been manifested, the Dark feeds on it, taking over even more of its host. It happens one by one, with each new manifestation of itself. It becomes a vicious cycle characterized by cruel, terrible acts of violence or terror which the Dark consumes and wants more of, forcing the host to become darker, more evil. This continues until eventually, there is absolutely nothing left of the person that is good.”
I sank down onto the couch beside Odie, lowering my head to my hands.
“What are we going to do?” I asked bitterly. “We can't let this continue. He'll never forgive himself for the things he did tonight. I can't imagine what will happen if he does anything worse.”
“That's just it,” Belle said as Odie placed her head on my shoulder in comfort. “He won't need to forgive himself. Not as long as he belongs to the Dark.”
I bit my bottom lip to stop the tears that threatened to come. Looking at my foster mom, I asked mournfully, “Bonnie, what are we going to do?”
She came forward, kneeling before me as I tried to fight the panic of losing Jimmy forever to evil.
“Listen to me,” she said firmly. “We are going to put Jimmy in a safe place, away from the hands of Prudence and anyone else associated with her. And then, we are going to fill him with the only thing that can fight the Dark, and that is the Light. We are going to do spells of purity and love, and we are going to show him that he is one of us. We will remind him that he is loved and he is perfect just as he is, without needing to stay a prisoner to evil.” She nodded at me, her face strong and sure as I gazed sadly at her. “We will not lose hope! We cannot afford to lose that, it is a precious commodity now, one that Jimmy desperately needs us to hold onto.” She stood from where she had knelt before me, and smiled down at me. “You ask what we are going to do, Roz? Why, you already know. We are going to kick some Dark ass!”
“That's right!” Erica cheered.
“Here, here!” Belle exclaimed.
The group chuckled softly as they each nodded in agreement.
For that one small second, I was uplifted and full of hope.
“Alright then!” Nicole cheered raspily, “We will prepare ourselves for battle! I'm going to go check on Jimmy, and then we will begin working on our game plan!”
Bonnie nodded. “Great idea, old friend!”
Nicole paused, searching the eyes of my foster mother.
“I have missed you terribly,” Nicole said sincerely. “I'm so glad you are here now.”
Bonnie stepped to her friend and wrapped her up in a big hug. “I've missed you too,” she said, her voice thick with emotion.
Nicole hugged her back, squeezing her eyes as the tears fell.
“Well then,” Nicole said softly. “We have much to catch up on. But for now, I'm going to check on our friend.”
Bonnie smiled as Nicole turned to head back down the hallway leading to the bedroom. She was only gone a second when we heard her soft shouts.
“He's gone! He's gone!”
Bonnie and I looked at one another in fear, and then we were running down the hallway.
Nicole stood in the center of the bedroom, looking at the wall above the empty bed in horror. We filed into the room, the witches checking the closet and under the bed, Odie and Will peering out the closed window for a sign of him.
He was nowhere to be seen.
Standing next to Nicole, I raised my eyes to the wall to see what had her so transfixed. I wished I hadn't looked. My stomach bottomed out as I stared at the wall.
Scrawled across the surface, in what was obviously thick, dark blood, were six terrorizing words:
“I'm coming for you, little dove.”
Epilogue
The young woman punched the bag before her furiously, each jab and hit controlled with vindictive anger. Her blows landed with a soft thunk as the rock music played loudly in the garage.
She focused her movements, unwilling to become overwrought by her fury. She knew control was the key to landing each punch properly. She couldn't afford to let her emotions get out of hand, she couldn't afford to allow herself to wallow in grief as she had once done.
No, that little girl was long gone. She'd never again resort to the depression of the summer. She'd never again allow her emotions to have such control of her like that again.
Jimmy.
Her soul broke and shattered with each punch, his name burying itself into the dead remainder of her heart.
It had been two weeks since the terrible night he had disappeared from Will’s house without a trace. Two weeks since her life had so abruptly changed yet again. Two weeks since she discovered the true nature of her foster mom and sister.
Now, she knew exactly who Bonnie and Amie were. They were like her, each capable of a different form of supernatural gifts. The three of them now constantly worked together to make sure of everyone’s safety, not just their own, but that of The Pastels, Odie, and Nicole as well.
In fact, everyone was working together, always sending messages and updates of new information. Always unsuccessfully casting spells to discover his whereabouts. But despite the concerted effort, no one could foresee if, or when, Jimmy would return. Not even Amie, who had the gift of sight.
Roz had begun finding more and more solace in the punching bag since that night. Whenever life became stressful, whenever she felt overwhelmed by this world of magic, whenever she found herself losing hope, she'd simply go to the garage and destroy the bag as much as possible. Today, she had been desperate for the release it provided.
Bonnie had been busy all day getting everything ready for Rosalind’s sixteenth birthday party, which was tomorrow. Roz had appreciated her mom’s efforts, but inwardly she loathed the idea of celebrating. How could she possibly find the joy in turning sixteen now? Not with Jimmy still out there, somewhere, lost to the Dark. She couldn't stand to see the orange and black balloons and streamers Bonnie had set out across the dining room table. To her, they represented a celebration that her soul could not participate in. At least, not yet. Right now was for punching.
Only after she was covered and dripping in sweat, did Roz stop her punches. Only after she had fallen still and caught her breath did she notice a small, dark lump from the corner of her eye, resting beside the boom box on the counter.
She squinted her eyes. Nothing had been there an hour ago when she'd turned the music on. What could it be?
Wiping the sweat from her face with a gym towel, she approached the object that blurred in her vision. It seemed to be maroon in color, but she wasn't sure.
When she stood directly before it and saw what it was, she began to feel the icy fingers of fear trailing along her spine.
Jimmy’s little wooden pocket goddess lay in front of the stereo, and it was covered in old, dried blood.
She swallowed her fear and raised her chin, looking around the empty garage.
She knew he was near, somehow. Somewhere. She knew he was taunting her. But she would not be afraid.
“Show yourself,” she commanded, readying for the fight.
A soft, hot breeze whipped past her ponytail and she spun around, but nothing was there.
“I'll see you soon, little dove,” the words whispered into her mind. “And when I do, no one will be able to save you.”
She stood deathly still, not giving away a single reaction as the foreboding words were spoken into her head. She scanned the garage one more time before making sure she truly was alone. She reached out for the pocket goddess and watched as small flakes of dried
blood fell away from it. She caressed the little figure in her hand, enjoying the smoothness of it even if it had been coated in crimson. Instead of the dread and fear she believed it was supposed to have given her, she found comfort and hope in the little object.
“I know you're still in there, Jimmy, fighting to be freed from the Dark,” she said loudly. “I know you can be saved. And I'm going to save you.”
With that, she turned and walked out of the garage to go back into her house, as the voice of her Dark love chuckled in the air.
Acknowledgements
It really doesn't matter what we do to go for our dreams, there is almost always one or two people (or twenty!), who are instrumental, or inspirational, for us in achieving our goals.
For me, writing a book always has its ups and downs. I get attached to my characters, I cry with them, laugh with them, and follow their lead. I get wrapped up with them and then I will typically do a ‘pause’ with the story, because I don't want it to be over yet. And sometimes, I’ll be on fire to finish my book but real life interferes and I need a push to keep going. This is for all of you who have kept me going in one way or another… whether you've realized it or not.
Amie Moore- I never would have made it this far without you. You're not only my assistant, you're my friend and family. I'll always be eternally thankful for you.
Leanne Louise- I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect cover to depict Roz and Jimmy! I’m so blessed to know you and to have the pleasure of working with you. Thank you for making this series come to life with such gorgeous covers! I can’t wait to see what you do for Book 3!!
Hakala Farias- Someone who reads Book 1 FOUR TIMES (or was it five?) while waiting for Book 2 to be released deserves an acknowledgement! You, my sweet reader, have been more motivation for me than you can possibly know. I thank you so much for giving Roz and Jimmy (and me!), a chance.
Alec, America, Shanen, Michelle, Hannah, Tristan, Fayth, Kathryn- The best family I could have ever received. There are no words big enough to express how much I love each of you. Not a single one.
Mom, Dad, Gary, Kelley, Michael- What can I even say here that you don't already know? Thank you. Thank you. A million times, thank you.
Christopher Hagen (AKA The Beard)- Thank you for introducing me to pocket goddesses! But more importantly, thank you for showing me magic is real.
I have some real life friends who always seem to bless me when I need it. They encourage me, uplift me, congratulate me, and make me laugh, even when they don’t realize they have. Friends like that deserve special acknowledgement just for being that, friends. My heartfelt thanks and love to each of you- Tawna Store, Janine Giske, Jason Snedeker, Jeff Sheldon, Andrew Reisinger, Devon West, Jessica Vieira, Kristi Phillips, Cindy Bernal, Erica Harris
Then, there are those friends that are part of this crazy Indie book community, and we just seem to click for some reason. Authors, bloggers, and book lovers alike, you have all kept me going, always looking forward to the next release, always fangirling over our favorites. For those of you listed here, understand you have inspired me in ways that I'll always be thankful for, even if you didn’t know it. Each of you have my support, loyalty, and friendship, always- Brianna West, Lynn Lamb, Roisin Black, Nicole Strycharz, LB Simmons, Lindsey Elaine, Darlene Ward Avery, Virginia Johnson, Carole Cota, Alyson Santos, Shannon Lee Reiger, Sarah Doughty, S.J. Herrman, Adam Reese, Aaron L. Speer
And finally, a huge thank you to YOU, whoever you are reading this right now. You are why I keep moving forward, why I keep chasing my goals and dreams. You are the ones I hope to touch with my words. You are the ones I hope to provide a little escape for. You are the ones who keep me thinking of the next book… and the next… and the next…
From the bottom of my heart, to all of you, thank you for taking the time to read Roz and Jimmy’s story. It means far more than you’ll ever know.
XO
kris
About The Author
Kris Johnston is a native of Southern California and lives there with her family. She’s a coffee addict, a fangirl, a mother, a daughter, a sister, and a friend.
But mostly, she’s a dreamer.
She’s been writing since the age of 8, and has no plans of ever stopping. Her biggest influences are Dean Koontz and that crazy thing we call, “life experience.”
Previous Works by the Author
This Beautiful Curse: A Gothic Fairy Tale- www.amazon.com/gp/aw/d/B016B63F3U
Find Me in Heaven- www.amazon.com/gp/aw/d/B01EXJ96EE
Regret and Other Flavors- www.amazon.com/gp/aw/d/B01MRJ4IN6
Rest in Peace Roz, The R.I.P. Series, Book 1- www.amazon.com/gp/aw/d/B01LQS9R1W
Social Media
www.facebook.com/authorkrisjohnston
www.twitter.com/krisjohn_author
www.instagram.com/kris_johnston_author
www.amazon.com/author/krisjohnston
Rage in Pain Roz: The R.I.P. Series Book 2 Page 23
