Souls Estranged (The Souls Trilogy Book 2)

by Anne B. Cole

  A rough hand touched her cheek.

  “It’s not your fault this old woman has a big heart. Katarina’s influence brought you here, despite your intended destiny. According to the rules of The Unlucky, you must make amends with her before you may be released.” Peter jerked his hand away and focused beyond them.

  “I’ve got to go. Duty calls.” He hurried away.

  “What about Kadir?” Katarina called after him.

  Peter ran to what looked like a cliff, and leaned over the edge. He yelled over his shoulder, “Kadir won’t be leaving anytime soon. I’m the spirit who influenced his death and I have no intentions of making amends.” He laid on his stomach and reached over the side into a smoldering darkness.

  Raja watched in horror as he slipped over the edge.

  Chapter 29

  Asclepius’ Mark

  Raja

  Scrambling to her feet, Raja ran to Peter, whose boots clung to the rim of the cliff.

  “Don’t go there. You don’t want to see where we should have gone,” Katarina warned.

  Raja obeyed, though she pondered Peter’s words. She didn’t want Katarina’s forgiveness for she could never forgive herself.

  “Send me to Tartarus. I’ve been trained to kill, had every intent to kill until I met JD.” Raja watched Katarina’s face twist in pain at the sound of his name. “My sorrow is deep and sincere. I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”

  “Your death, brought on by me, defied fate. You will not be damned, so I can’t get there.” Katarina stated the words as if she was trying to make sense of it herself. Raja watched the old woman begin to pace, obviously in deep thought.

  Why would Katarina be angry about not ending up in Tartarus? Raja needed to know, but hesitated to stress the woman further. “I’m truly sorry, Katarina. I seek acknowledgment, not forgiveness.”

  “Damn!” Peter cursed, hooking his left boot around a boulder. The rest of his body remained over the edge.

  Katarina’s shoulders deflated. “No, child. I owe you the apology. I tried to use you to get where neither one of us belong.” Her voice broke with sadness. “JD loved you.”

  “And I killed him.” Raja dropped her chin to her chest. She felt Katarina’s small arm wrap around her. The comfort of a woman’s touch, which had escaped her throughout her life, filled her with warmth.

  “No. Your superiors killed JD. I guided you to kill your contact. That’s why you’re here. You didn’t want to kill him. You intended to report everything to the authorities. The Americans would not have put you to death, so I made you shoot Jamal’s thug, giving the police a reason to kill you, and, therefore, send us to Tartarus.” Katarina’s arms tightened. “You’re here, among The Unlucky, when you didn’t deserve to die.”

  Katarina and JD saved my soul.

  Forgiveness and love flowed within Raja. When Katarina let her go, her knees buckled.

  Strong arms swept her off her feet, and she watched Katarina take a few steps back. Fingers lifted Raja’s gaze to the face of the one who held her.

  JD pressed his forehead against hers. “Come with me.”

  Raja felt his love surge within her, yet sadness remained. She slid out of his arms. “I don’t deserve you. Katarina—”

  “Katarina can’t go where we’re going. At least not until my brother . . .” JD paused as Katarina leaned forward with interest. “I’ll explain later.”

  “Hey, a little help here?” Peter hollered.

  Katarina ran to Peter while Raja remained in JD’s arms. His spirit radiated love and happiness, erasing all of her guilt and concern. His smile melted her heart, and Raja knew she would follow him anywhere.

  “Come.” JD led her to Katarina. “I think my ancestral grandmother needs a little help.”

  Together, they approached the feisty woman, who clutched Peter’s boot in one hand and the handle of his sword in the other. Raja reached for Peter’s other foot.

  “Stay back.” JD grabbed Peter’s leg. The gatekeeper’s body lurched forward, pulling both Katarina and JD to their knees.

  Raja watched in horror as JD’s shoulders slid over the edge.

  “I’m not losing you again,” Raja declared and took hold of JD’s waist. She pulled with all her strength. With a thud, the group fell backward, JD and Raja pinned beneath a jumble of arms and legs.

  “Mama?” A timid voice called.

  Raja felt Katarina’s body stiffen and shudder before she scrambled off the pile.

  “Tatiana?” Katarina embraced one of two souls pulled from the depths by Peter. The other soul remained collapsed in his arms.

  “I’m out? Of Tartarus?” Tatiana questioned.

  “Yes, but you can’t stay, Tatiana. Queen P’s cranky husband is not fond of souls escaping from the underworld. You need to move on as quickly as possible.” Peter focused on the soul in his arms. “Who is this one? She looks familiar.” He smoothed blonde hair away from her face and grazed her cheek with the back of his hand.

  “Roxana, Lorenzo’s sister,” Katarina blurted. At the sound of her name, the woman’s eyelids fluttered.

  “Katarina, I couldn’t reach—” Roxana scrambled to her feet.

  “Quiet. You rescued Tatiana. We will go back for Anya and Lorenzo.” Katarina squeezed her hand.

  Peter squared his shoulders. “I’m sorry. No one is permitted to return to the lost souls of the dead.” He tapped Tatiana’s left hand. Her wrist revealed a script ‘A’ tattooed in blue. Peter exposed his wrist and nodded to Roxana’s. “We carry the mark of Asclepius. He enables escape from Tartarus. Once marked, we may never go back.”

  “You’re the gatekeeper. Let Lorenzo and Anya out,” Katarina demanded.

  Raja stepped away from Katarina’s sudden fury. The comfort of JD’s arm slid around her waist.

  Peter frowned. “When I died, I was sent to Tartarus, like Tatiana and Lorenzo. Splitting the cursed treasure condemned us. I could leave because Kadir killed me with Asclepius’ blade. Lorenzo can leave Tartarus as well since Kadir stabbed him with the same dagger.”

  “Why can’t Lorenzo bring Anya out?” Katarina pleaded. “Roxana extracted Tatiana.” She tightened her embrace on her daughter.

  “Roxana doesn’t belong in Tartarus, but before they forced her out she latched onto my soul and took me with her.” Tatiana’s attitude suddenly became aloof. “Sacrifices must be made for the bad luck curse to be broken. Victor damned Anya and she wore the cursed ring. She needs to make amends with Victor. The bad luck curse must also be broken before she can be released from Tartarus. It is not her time.” The distant look in her eyes faded.

  “Others are waiting, Grandmother,” JD announced.

  Raja watched Katarina face him, but his focus remained on Tatiana. Katarina must not be JD’s direct grandmother. Perhaps they lived generations earlier, making Tatiana also one of his ancestral grandmothers.

  “The longevity curse on the ring. May I break it?” Katarina blurted.

  “Yes, Mother. But I caution you to do so at a time when it is no longer needed, for it is a protective curse.” Tatiana dropped Katarina’s hand as a boulder within a nearby cliff slid to the left. A brilliant figure took a single step into the Unlucky purgatory.

  “Tatiana,” a voice boomed.

  “Alec?” Tatiana cried.

  The group crossed the distance, but Peter stopped them at the rocky entrance.

  “Once a soul enters the Elysian Fields, they are permitted to cross into the purgatories and back only twice,” Peter announced. His warning gaze went from Katarina to JD.

  “Alec, take care of my Tatiana,” Katarina declared.

  Raja watched the luminous soul step forward. He engulfed Tatiana in a powerful embrace. His vast presence caused Raja to lean further into JD’s side
.

  Peter lingered at the stone gate. With a weary glance back to the cliff, he allowed Alec to fully enter the purgatory.

  “Lorenzo is a fine man. He refuses to leave our Anya until she can be released from Tartarus. You must go to Gretta, your kin. Watch over her. I’m afraid the girl is in great danger.” Alec touched the top of Roxana’s head with one dazzling hand.

  Raja witnessed Roxana’s strength return.

  Alec bowed to Katarina with respect. “Your kin, Sam, needs your support and encouragement. Go to him.” His focus moved to Peter. “Tatiana and I will leave now. I feel the wrath of someone near.”

  “Aye, that’d be Queen Persephone. She thrives when souls escape from her nasty husband’s domain, but she has a fit if Asclepius gets recognition for releases.” Peter quickly ushered Tatiana and Alec to the gate.

  “Goodbye, Mother.” Tatiana blew a kiss to Katarina. Alec swept her off her feet and within seconds, they disappeared.

  Peter studied the cliff in the opposite direction.

  “Get on your way, child,” Katarina snapped at JD.

  Raja felt his presence release from hers. Despite sorrow filling her, she tried to remain strong.

  “Hurry, JD, before Queen P. or her husband arrives,” Katarina urged.

  JD’s soul beamed as he kissed Raja’s hand.

  “I’m unworthy of happiness. I must go to Tartarus to help rescue the others,” Raja whispered.

  JD’s face fell as his fingers left hers.

  “Don’t you dare hurt my great, great, great, great, great grandson,” Katarina declared and shoved Raja back into his arms.

  Raja eyed Peter, who nodded approval.

  She nestled into JD’s embrace. Peacefulness swept through her. She overheard Roxana suggest entwining themselves within a squirrel and cat.

  “We’ll check on Gretta together, and then split up,” Katarina announced. She noticed Raja watching her. “Go on now. Take good care of JD. Roxana and I have work to do.”

  Raja nuzzled against JD’s shoulder. She prayed the two women would succeed in their endeavors on earth, and someday release Anya and Lorenzo from Tartarus. An overwhelming sense of blissfulness entered her as her soul joined with JD’s.

  “Ready?” he whispered into her ear.

  Together they entered the Elysian Fields.

  Chapter 30

  Severed Ties

  Killer

  The man patted the phone in his pocket. He could listen to each call and see every text the girl sent or received from the cabin cell phone. When the church secretary had called this morning, he learned her name. He shifted in the brush to get a better view.

  Ah Gretta, such a lovely day to be painting my fence. It needed a fresh coat. But I have plans for you.

  He watched her enter the cabin. Looking in all directions and satisfied no one watched, he stepped in its direction. A ball of gray and white fur came out of nowhere and attacked his ankle. With a swift kick, he flung what he thought was a small raccoon off his boot.

  A little cat tumbled into the weeds, scrambled back on its paws, and let out a fierce hiss. Its fur spiked, and its ringed tail puffed.

  He laughed at its courage when something warm and wet splattered on his head.

  What the hell?

  A squirrel scurried in the tree branches above him.

  Damn squirrel just shit on me!

  After he wiped his forehead, a stream of urine sprayed down his neck and back.

  “Goddamned critter.” He drew a gun from his pocket and aimed at the moving target of russet fur.

  The porch door squeaked and banged shut. His attention zeroed on the girl with a new paintbrush in hand. As he admired her athletic build, possibilities ran through his mind.

  “Patience. I must learn patience.” He watched her in silence for several minutes before skirting the trail to his parked van.

  Gretta

  A frisky fox squirrel chattered in the tree tops. Gretta stopped painting and watched it jump from one branch to another. To get a better view, she stood and stretched her legs.

  A rustling of leaves drew her attention to the ground as her little cat came wandering out of the thicket. Its gray and white fur had matted to its legs from the dew of the tall grasses. She smiled at the pathetic creature as a connection popped into her head.

  “I was running in the park a little over two weeks ago when a squirrel, exactly like the one in the trees, darted under my feet and tripped me.” She grazed her fingers over the rough stitches alongside her knee.

  Her cat mewed and affectionately rubbed her fingertips, guiding her attention away from her thoughts.

  Gretta scooped her into her arms and dried her off with the sweatshirt she had been wearing. A loud purr joined in with the chattering squirrel. She laughed when her stomach roared over both. The cat wriggled out of her arms and scampered to the cabin as if she read her mind.

  “You hungry, too? I’m starved. What was I thinking about just now?” Gretta mused. Carrying the paint can and brush, she walked to the porch where the cat perched on the step, its attention trained on the noisy squirrel. She followed the cat’s gaze and spotted the reddish bundle of fur jump into the thicket.

  “Silly squirrel,” she murmured as she opened the door for the cat and entered the cabin.

  Inside the small kitchen, she removed the lid from the crockpot. After giving the stew a quick stir, she took a deep breath and inhaled the steamy aroma of beef, potatoes and carrots. After three days of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, she craved a real dinner.

  Despite the ache in her shoulders, Gretta grabbed a granola bar and headed outside to paint another section of the picket fence. Pleased with the results of two days of painting, she dipped the brush into the can to finish the job.

  When she sopped up the last of the paint with her brush, she glanced at her watch. Eleven-thirty. Her shoulders slumped in sadness.

  “Everyone’s at Grandma’s funeral. Everyone except me.” The cat rubbed against her knee. “Idle hands are the work of the devil.” The words she had heard her grandmother say many times escaped her lips. Determined to keep busy and not think about how much she’d miss her grandmother, she opened another can of paint.

  Her pocket vibrated with an incoming text. “I can’t answer your texts, Sam.”

  When Gretta learned her grandmother had died, she vowed to distance herself from everyone she loved. It was the only way to keep people safe. Physical distance proved easy. Keeping her thoughts from those she loved seemed impossible.

  Gretta reread his latest out loud. “‘I remember things too. Please contact me.’” She fought the urge to respond. “I can’t, Sam. I have to stop thinking about you.” She shoved the phone into her pocket. Even though she had known him for only a short time, her heart ached.

  “Back to work,” she declared, and spent the next hour finishing the fence.

  Gretta wiped her hands on a drop cloth and glanced around for other little jobs she could complete during her ten-week stay. A wooden shed at the end of the driveway needed to be repainted. Several landscaped beds surrounding the log cabin cried out for weeding. The tiny lawn would take less than an hour to mow each week, leaving her with plenty of time to think and hopefully, remember.

  A black ant crawled on the fence into the wet paint. She flicked it off and smoothed away its tracks with her brush. Her thoughts drifted back to her family.

  Without me around, they’ll be safe. I hope.

  Fur tickled Gretta’s leg. She scratched behind the cat’s ear. “All done.” She stood and assessed the white fence. After swiping the last visible drip, she tapped the lid back on the paint can with the wooden handle of the brush and carried it to the shed. The cat posed in the doorway with its tail curled around its feet, star
ing at her with large, emerald green eyes.

  “How about, Emeye, short for Emerald Eyes?” Gretta asked the cat.

  In response, the cat licked its paw and rubbed its ear.

  Her mind scrambled at a memory she attempted to grasp. Unable to take hold, the image fell out of her reach.

  It had been two and a half weeks since the accident, and her head had finally stopped throbbing. If only she could remember more. Her notes made absolutely no sense. They read as if she lived a dream within a dream. One dream as herself with Sam and the other being a woman named Anya, who loved a man named Lorenzo. She’d convinced herself pain medication had created the dream, until she read Sam’s texts.

  “‘I remember things, too.’” She repeated his text in the shed. “Sam had been trying to help me with something—something about my grandmother’s ring.”

  She glanced at the ring on her finger and scratched a speck of white paint from its red stone. The past three nights she had awaken from dreams she couldn’t fully remember. After every dream, she found herself clutching the ring. She yearned to talk to Sam, but contact could be dangerous.

  “I’m responsible for Dad’s death, Tony’s accident, and Sam’s infection. I’m not going to text.”

  Gretta set the brush and paint can on a metal shelf above a workbench filled with dusty gardening tools, hammers, and screwdrivers. Rope, twine, and wire were coiled and hung on one wall. Other tools scattered the floor haphazardly. “Mrs. Glenn said her husband rarely came in here. I wonder who uses the tools and doesn’t put them away. I can’t imagine the volunteers from the church not cleaning up after themselves.”