Soulmates

by Nadine Nightingale

  Strangle us with bare hands? Yeah, no shit. “Chill, Jess.”

  He’s on the brink of losing his shit. “Talk. Now.”

  My eyes flick up. “I might have found a way out of this”—I look at Alex—“fiery situation.”

  Jesse’s eyes grow wide. “Seriously?”

  “Wouldn’t lie about it.”

  Alex narrows his eyes at me. “Judging by the look on your face, I’d say it involves child sacrifice.”

  “Worse,” Bonnie says. She likes messing with jerk-face’s head.

  Alex pales. “What?”

  I’m all game when it comes to screwing with Alex. Can’t stand the horrific expression on his face, though. “Keep calm and trust your awesome witch friend, Alex.”

  “Amanda,” Jesse and Alex yell. They sound like a heavy metal choir.

  Melodramatic much?

  Considering how fucking impatient they are, I should keep them on the tenterhooks a bit longer. I don’t. “Short version?” They both nod. “According to this book, hell can’t claim your soul if your Anam Cara objects.”

  “My what?” Alex is clearly not getting any of this.

  “Your soulmate,” Bonnie explains.

  Alex laughs. “This some sort of joke?”

  My expression is grim. “No. This is me saving your sorry hunter ass.”

  He’s still laughing, until he realizes I ain’t fucking around. Then he sorta freaks out. “Have you guys lost your mind?”

  “Why else would we try to save a hunter?” Bonnie grumbles.

  Jerk-face cups my chin. “Amanda,” he says, voice hard as stone. “You can’t be serious.”

  I squint. “I can and I am.”

  He shakes his head. “First, I don’t believe in this whole soulmate business, and second, even if I did, I only have ten days. How am I supposed to find what other people search for their whole lives within ten fucking days?”

  Jesse shoots daggers at his brother. “Shut up for a second, will ya?” He looks at me. “What you’re saying is we have to find Alex’s soulmate so she—”

  “Or he—” Bonnie cuts in.

  “Can do what?” Jesse continues. “Write an objection letter to hell? Hire Keanu Reeves as an advocate for human-hell rights?”

  Jesus, I’ve only just read the stuff. “I guess she’d have to claim ownership of his soul.” Can’t blame me for sounding a bit crazy. I’m making this shit up as I go.

  Jesse plops onto the table. “And then this nightmare would be over? There’d be no hellfire at the end of my brother’s tunnel? No demon dragging him to the pit?”

  I sure hope so. “That’s what the book says.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re buying into this madness,” Alex snaps.

  Silence settles over the living room.

  “Shit. You fucking are,” Alex barks when he sees the look on his brother’s face.

  Peeved, I arch a brow. “A little optimism wouldn’t hurt, Alex.” It’s not a perfect solution, but it’s all we’ve got.

  Alex glares at me. “There’s a fine line between optimism and delusion, Amanda. And you just crossed it.”

  Bonnie, now sitting on the table next to Jesse, swings her feet and sighs. “I’m the last person who wants to be on team Alex, but how are we supposed to find his soulmate in ten days?”

  The book says soulmates are destined to meet. Chances are Alex and his already crossed paths. Problem is he must have gotten to know a hundred chicks while roaming the country.

  “Manda?” Jesse sounds worried. “You do have a plan, right?”

  Not really. “Let’s do a spell,” I suggest.

  Bonnie almost falls off the table. “Are you fucking crazy?”

  Little Remington knits his brows. “Why? Sounds like a good idea to me.”

  Bonnie jumps down and faces Jesse. “Do you have the slightest idea what happens if a love spell goes wrong? Are you aware it’s black fucking magic?”

  “What?” Jesse is startled. “Why would a love spell be black magic?”

  I frown. “Because our kind believes love is divine. Tampering with it can upset the natural order.”

  “Yeah,” Bonnie adds. “Not to mention it can turn ordinary people into obsessive, stalking psychopaths.”

  “Enough,” Alex shouts. “No way any of you is tapping into black magic.” He gives his brother a look. “We’re still hunters, remember?”

  “There must be another way.” Jesse speaks to himself, not to us.

  I go to the book and re-read the entry. “According to this, ‘soulmates are drawn to each other, accept each other as they are, and share a love so fierce, it might be destructive at times.’” I meet Alex’s eyes. “Can you think of anyone who stirred up such feelings?”

  “I can,” Jesse says.

  All heads turn to him. “Spill it,” Bonnie orders.

  He grins, and I already hate what he’s about to say. “Seriously? Am I the only one in this room who thought of Amanda?”

  My heart stops beating.

  Alex’s jaw drops.

  Bonnie just stands there, thinking. Until she says, “Can’t believe I’m saying this, but ‘a love so fierce it might be destructive’ does kinda sound like the two of you.”

  Alex regains control over his mouth. “Okay. I’ve listened to all this soulmate bullshit, but if any of you thinks a hunter”—he points at himself—“and a witch”—he points at me—“could be fucking Anam whatever, you must be living in an alternate universe.”

  “He’s right,” I croak. “Alex and I are destined to hate each other, not…” The word won’t even cross my lips.

  Alex lowers his gaze. “Exactly. I mean, how am I to accept her as she is when she’s a goddamn witch?”

  Punch in the gut. Well done, jerk-face.

  Bonnie gets in Alex’s face. “Know what?” Her voice is colder than dry ice. “I think you’re right. An asshole like you could never be Amanda’s soulmate. She’s too fucking good for you.”

  Alex grins from ear to ear. “Oh really? Too good?”

  My best friend balls her hands into fists. “Yeah, Alexander. Too fucking good.”

  Jesse steps between them before one of them can kill the other. “Let’s all take a deep breath and calm down, okay?”

  “No.” Bonnie snaps. “Amanda is trying to save your brother’s life, and all he does is blow shit in her face.”

  “I never asked her to save me,” Alex says, defending himself. “Never asked for her fucking help either.”

  “Then why show up at our place?” Bonnie counters.

  A dull ache in my head flares to life. “That’s enough,” I shout, close to losing my temper and murdering both of them. I turn to Jesse. “I’m not his soulmate. Moving on.”

  Bonnie’s lips part. “But—”

  “I said moving on.” She knows me well enough not to push me and keeps quiet. My gaze flies to Alex. “How about you write a list with every girl you’ve ever, even just remotely, experienced the described feelings?”

  Alex pulls his brows together. “Then what, Manda? Are we going to call them and say, ‘Hey, sorry to bother you, but do you think we could be soulmates?’”

  I am not in the mood for his smart-ass act. “No, Alex. We’re not going to call ’em. We’ll pay ’em a visit and ask ’em to claim your soul.”

  Bonnie cuts her eyes my way. “You cannot be serious. You’d risk exposing witchcraft, Amanda.”

  She’s right. Reading someone the cards or sharing herbal recipes with ’em is not the same as asking a total stranger to claim a soul. But we’re running out of options.

  “You’d have to test them first,” Melinda says.

  Where the hell did she come from, and since when is she in on the “Rescue Alex from Hell” mission?

  Perfect Housewitch fiddles with the half-peeled potato in her hand. “If you test them, you’ll only have to share the truth with the right one,” she says matter-of-factly.

  Bonnie, Jesse, and Alex stare at her wit
h dropped jaws. I, on the other hand, cross my arms and cock a brow. “And how do you suggest we do that?”

  She grows uneasy with all our eyes on her. “There’s a ritual,” she says. “It’ll help you determine if she’s his soulmate.”

  “Haven’t seen a ritual like that in the book.”

  Her gaze drops to the potato in her hand. “The ritual is in my book,” she confesses. “You need hair or blood of both—Alex and the girl.”

  I want to ask Perfect Housewitch since when has she had a grimoire of her own, but Alex starts talking. “Oh, that’s just great.” He shakes his head like a mad man. “So, we have to drive around the country to find every girl I’ve ever had feelings for, only to knock on her door and ask for her blood?”

  Melinda nods. “You could put it that way.”

  Alex’s gaze shoots to me. “Do you know how fucking crazy that sounds? Crazy even by your standards, Manda.”

  Going up against a bokor and his zombie slave isn’t exactly sane either. We’d done it nevertheless. “Just write the damn list, Alex.”

  Jesse grabs a pencil from the table, pulls a small notebook out of his pocket, and shoves it against Alex’s chest.

  “You guys are fucking nuts.”

  Jesse smirks. “Shut up and go to work, Romeo.”

  “Amanda,” Melinda says. “May I talk to you for a second?” She pushes the kitchen door open. “In private.”

  I knew there was a catch to her sudden helpfulness.

  Perfect Housewitch leans against the kitchen counter, crossing her ankles. It’s sort of weird. Melinda is nothing like Grams, but she sure as hell inherited her perfect posture and lady-like manners. “We have to talk, Amanda.”

  “Go on and talk then.”

  I totally expect one of her famous you’re-a-disgrace-to-the-family speeches. Something else entirely comes out of her mouth. “Bonnie mentioned you’re doing well at NYU?”

  “So?”

  Melinda drops her hands to her sides. “Can we have a normal conversation for once?”

  That’s the most hilarious thing I’ve heard all day. I suppress the laughter climbing up my throat and knit my brows. “Nothing about us is normal, Melinda. Just cut to the chase and tell me why the hell you hauled my ass to the kitchen.”

  She draws a deep breath. “I know you want to help Alexander. Believe me, I do, but I need you to stay out of this.”

  Twilight Zone alarm. First, Perfect Housewitch comes up with a ritual to determine who Alex’s soulmate is, and now she wants me to stay out of this? “Do you have a brain tumor?”

  She squints. “What? No.”

  No brain tumor, huh? Okay. Maybe a concussion? “Did you hit your head?”

  She brushes a strand of hair out of her face and straightens her skirt. “Amanda.” Teacher voice is back. “Stop this nonsense, would you?”

  I reach for a juicy red apple from the fruit basket and take a bite. “Sure thing,” I mumble, mouth full. “But first you’re gonna tell me why the hell you came up with that ritual if you want me to stay the hell out of this.”

  Her bottom lip quivers. She looks pretty upset. “I offered my help because, like you, I don’t want him to die. I’m certain you understand why.”

  I let the apple roll from one hand to the other. “We’re on the same page then?”

  She nods. “We are.”

  “Then where’s the fuckin’ problem, Melinda?”

  My choice of language makes her flinch. She doesn’t scold me, though. Terrifying.

  “I have a bad feeling about this,” she admits. “Especially, after Grams—”

  Not again. “Stop right there. If Grams were worried about me, she’d tell me herself.” Melinda’s mouth opens in surprise. I’m done and walk to the door.

  “Amanda, think about L—”

  I turn my head. “What the hell do you think I’m doing, Melinda?”

  Chapter 17

  Nine days to hell

  After being squeezed in the car for almost sixteen hours, and listening to Alex and Jesse’s endless stories about Diana, the first girl on the list, we finally reach Cross Hill, a typical southern small town where folks still wave at each other from their porches and regard strangers with as much caution as they would alien invaders.

  The atmosphere in the Mustang is a mixture between colorless and doom and gloom. Six names. Six states. Nine days left. Long story short: Alex is screwed. We all think it. Only hunter-heroic is brave enough to admit it.

  “How can you be sure she still lives here?” Bonnie asks, pushing the gas pedal a little harder. Lake Greenwood is about fifteen minutes from Cross Hill, and we all want to get out of this goddamn car.

  I still can’t believe she came along. I’d told Bonnie to go back to NYU. I had this covered. She said something along the lines of, “If you think I’ll let you do this on your own, you clearly don’t know me, Amanda.”

  Alex moves closer to me and meets my best friend’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “I’d appreciate it, if you could keep those pretty eyes of yours on the road before you wreck the love of my life.” Jerk-face hates when someone else drives his car.

  Bonnie cocks a brow. “And I’d appreciate it, if you’d answer my question.”

  Alex frowns. “Diana ain’t never gonna leave this place. She loves it here.”

  I gaze out the window, tired of hearing her name. Diana. The girl he met when he was seventeen. The chick who, apart from all the others, knows the truth about him—hunter and all. The black-haired Asian beauty who puts a smile on jerk-face’s lips every time someone mentions her.

  Jesse unbuckles his seat belt and turns. “How are we going to play this? Knock on her door and ask for her blood to perform the ritual?”

  “No way,” Alex barks.

  I squint. “Why not? Thought she’s in on your dirty little secret.”

  Jesse runs a hand over his tired face. “She’s right, man. Diana knows what goes bump in the night. Firsthand experience, remember?”

  I almost forgot. Diana. The girl Alex saved from a shtriga. Just for the record, shtrigas are witches. Their coven, formed by a woman named Aradia, dates back to fourteenth-century Italy. Her followers are devoted to the Goddess. Unfortunately, every coven has rogue members, spoiling the reputation of the whole club.

  Alex shoots Jesse a flinty look. “After four years of radio silence, you expect me to knock on her door and ask her to perform a soulmate ritual to save me from hell?”

  Bonnie jerks the steering wheel to the right, and Alex almost lands on my lap. “I swear,” he says, “you’re a worse driver than my brother.”

  She cuts her eyes to Little Remington. “Before we go all soulmate on that Diana chick’s ass, we need to make sure she’s not married.” Despite Bonnie’s free-love-I-should-have-been-born-in-the-60s attitude, she’s a firm believer in the sacred bond.

  “She’s not married,” Alex says matter-of-factly.

  I want to ask how he knew if he hasn’t seen her in four years but clench my teeth, keeping my mouth shut. He probably stalked her on Facebook or something.

  I inhale warm air streaming through the rolled-down window when I see a street sign—Dixon Price Road. We’re almost there. I should be excited. Diana could be Alex’s lifeline, his ticket out of hell, but my belly cramps, and I don’t even know why.

  “That’s her house.” Alex points to the baby-blue lakefront home with the number 211 painted on the garage.

  “We need a plan,” Jesse says as Bonnie pulls into the driveway. “Like, right now.”

  I tie my hair into a high bun. “One step at a time, okay?”

  Jesse knits his brows. “What’s step number one?”

  I yank the door open and gratefully stretch my legs. “We knock on the door, Jess.”

  I feel Alex’s eyes piercing my back. “It’s not too late to call this shit off.” His hand lands on my shoulder, and I turn my head. “I mean it, Manda. Let’s spend my last days doing something fun.”

 
; I pull a wry face. “Oh, you mean like going to Disney World?” He nods. “Sorry, but a bunch of knights in shining armor and their naïve princesses isn’t my idea of fun.” That said, I get out of the car and ogle the idyllic house. There are about a million places I’d rather be. For the sake of Alex’s soul, I’ll grit my teeth.

  Once everyone is out of the car and Bonnie locked it, we stroll past the garage to the double glass doors. I’m not trying to be a bitch, but who the fuck lives in a house with glass doors? Cinder-freakin’-diana.

  Jesse brings his fist to the door. “Ready?”

  Alex touches his forearm. “Don’t, man. Just don’t.”

  “Do it,” Bonnie orders.

  Jesse looks at me. I nod. He knocks.

  Two seconds pass before Alex says, “No one’s home. Let’s get outta here.” His jaw is tense, his shoulders stiffer than a Steiff Teddy Bear.

  Jesse shifts his head. “Dude, give her a—”

  The door swings open. An elderly woman with an apron around her waist greets us. “Can I help you?”

  They all stand there like idiots. Awesome. “Hey.” I fake my best smile. “We’re friends of Diana. Is she home?”

  The woman smiles. “The Wongs are on a fishing trip. They won’t be back until tomorrow.”

  We’re fucked. We’re more fucked than fucked. We’re the most fucked up people in the State of South Carolina.

  “Would you like to leave a message?”

  Oh, yeah. Tell Diana we’ll be back for her blood.

  “No, ma’am. Thanks. We’ll come back tomorrow,” Bonnie says.

  Dismay poisons the air as we head back to the car. None of us anticipated a situation like this, and by the look on Jesse’s face, I’d say the anticlimactic moment hit him right where it hurts—not his crotch, his heart.

  “Maybe it’s a sign from above,” Alex says once we’re back in the car. “We should move on to the next name on the list.”

  Not gonna happen. “No. We’ll come back tomorrow like we said we would.” Sure we’re on a very tight schedule, but even without the psychology lectures I’ve attended, I’d be certain there’s a reason why Diana was the first girl on Alex’s list.