Tormented (A Secret Salem Novel 4)

by J. N. Colon

  “Enjoy being with someone else’s mate,” I said to Sasha, her cheeks going nearly purple in embarrassment.

  Demy’s slips curled in a leer. “Trust me Davenport. You’ll be begging Rubi for forgiveness when you realize what you just lost.”

  I didn’t bother looking at Mac as we passed by, but I heard the threatening rumble exit his chest.

  ***

  I tiptoed downstairs, not wanting to run into anyone, especially the un-Mac. I didn’t eat anything when Demy and I returned from the disastrous Halloween dance. My finger still felt odd without the diamond ring I’d been wearing for months. I wasn’t about to take off my royal ring. I did put Mac’s into my jewelry box.

  My stomach growled with hunger and I had my mind set on bacon and sausage with pancakes on the side—I was aware it was usually the other way around, but we’re talking about me here.

  Voices drifted out of the kitchen that had me halting in place. Whitmore was talking with Damarius, the council member that was present when Rufus carried me in after gruesome ghostly attack at Madame Josephine’s.

  Great. Now who knows how long I’d have to wait to get food. I was sooo not about to go in there. I glanced down. Especially not in fuzzy booty slippers and a t-shirt that says I heart red meat.

  “But Whitmore I am worried,” Damarius said. “Her behavior doesn’t look promising.”

  “Damarius, I’ve already explained about Rubi’s special gifts.”

  Dread sank into my stomach, twisting it into knots. So Anton wasn’t the only one who thought I was a terrible choice for a ruler. Or was Anton just spreading his opinions around, influencing other members?

  “Be that as it may Whitmore, Rubi’s gifts are interfering.”

  I wondered if either of them had heard about me freaking out at the dance yet.

  “She’s just come into them and is still getting used to them. Give her a chance.”

  Damarius sighed. “I just wonder if Rubi is capable of being the queen.”

  “Of course she is,” Whitmore argued.

  A heavy moment of silence stretched between them. “The bond between her and Mac can’t necessarily be broken, but the title can be taken and given to someone else.”

  My heart leapt into my throat, blocking my airways.

  “I know Mac has been spending time with Sasha Svensson. Perhaps she would make a more suitable leader.”

  All the blood drained from my face as my worst fears were materializing.

  “That is not happening,” Whitmore hissed. “McCollum is not himself right now. He would never give up on Rubi. Ever.”

  “But what if he never gets his memories and this is who he will always be. Would it really do the throne justice by forcing him to remain with someone he doesn’t want?

  Wow. It would have hurt less if he physically ripped my heart out and stopped on it.

  Chapter 22

  I sat at a table in the back of Madam Josephine’s, flipping through a mountain of books on mediums and ghosts. I was trying to find a reason these three murder victims were tormenting me. There had to be some other motivation than simply because my blood made the poison. If that was the case, where were the dozens of other vampires the hunters killed? Why weren’t they haunting me too?

  MJ was in the front, helping customers—or at least I think she was. She could very well be downstairs, getting sidetracked.

  Finally something of relevance came across the page and I pulled the book closer, studying the information. It said a psychic could force spirits on another one if they knew the person—as in had a personal relationship with them.

  I bit my lip contemplating. Celestia was the only other psychic I knew and she wouldn’t do it.

  I groaned and closed the book, pushing them aside. This was freaking hopeless. I was being tormented by angry spirits, my mate hated me, and the council was trying to take away my title.

  With a heavy sigh I stood and grabbed the books, trudging down the aisle to put them away. Maybe I should call Celestia. She would know more about it than me. I turned the corner and nearly ran into someone, dropping some of the books.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry.” Sasha bent down to retrieve my fallen books, handing them back to me.

  I fought the urge to throw them in her sweet, fragile looking face. Flashes of her and Mac together assaulted my mind, lighting my insides with angry fire. “Thanks,” I muttered before rudely brushing passed her. What was she even doing here? Did she come to find me—torment me some?

  “Rubi, I’m really sorry about Mac,” she said, following me.

  I ground my teeth so hard I felt my fangs threatening to tear through my gums.

  “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” Sasha stopped beside me as I began filing the books in their correct spots. “Honestly. I was only trying to be his friend.”

  “Right.” My voice dripped with sarcasm.

  She reached a hand out to touch my shoulder, but thought better of it and dropped it. “I would never stand in your way if he decided he wanted to be with you.”

  I scoffed and slammed the last book into the shelf so hard it shook. “You do realize he’s still my mate and will always be my mate. We’ve already bonded Sasha. I’m the princess.”

  Her blue eyes looked almost tearful. “I know. I have no interest in being princess. I don’t care about the crown.”

  “Yeah, but your parents do.”

  I turned heel and strode away from her before I punched those delicate cheekbones.

  My feet crunched on dead leaves while my breath fogged in front of me. The night air was cold, but it didn’t bother me as much now that I was a vampire. The moon showed in spots between the canopied trees, dousing the trail before me in silvery light.

  I was walking through Highland campus on my way to meet Daedalus and Rufus at the north gate to take me home. I’d been hanging out with Marci in the common room on the fifth floor of Hampton Hall. We attempted to do our English homework and then convinced Darci to help—more like actually do—our poetry assignment. He knew everything there was to the flowery, lovey poetry we were supposed to analyze. It was a freaking foreign language to me.

  A shiver unexpectedly rippled up my spine and I knew without turning around a ghost was following me. I ignored them, not in the mood to deal with the dead. My feet continued to crunch on the leaves as I stomped toward the gate.

  Suddenly the crunching sounded different, more squishy and wet.

  Reluctantly my gaze slowly traveled down to find the ground writhing with bugs instead of leaves. I glanced behind me to see the trail of dead carcasses I left behind.

  Terror descended through my body as I knew the three victims were close, readying to deliver more torture. I yelped as the bugs began skittering up my Mary Janes and knee high socks. I took off, sprinting across campus, slipping on the bugs. The sound of their crawling echoed in my ears along with my thundering heartbeat.

  I kept my eyes forward determined not to look behind me because I knew they were there, stalking me. Dana’s laughter seeped through the air, spreading a cold sweat across my body.

  I was so focused on not tripping over roots and bugs I missed the low lying branch, running head on into it. Pain exploded in my forehead and stars clouded my vision. I hit the ground, sprawled out in a pain angel—thanks Ridiculousness for that one.

  When I tried to get up the world spun and I slumped back down, watching the tree branches above me swirl and dance unnaturally.

  Dana stood above me, her face framed by wet hair while a hideous, cruel smile curled her bleeding lips. Bronson stood beside her and Robert crawled up to me, his mouth dripping with acidic slime. His bloody hand reached out to touch me.

  I tried to shift away, pain radiating through my head and I whimpered, making Robert’s smile bigger.

  Dana’s appearance suddenly shimmered in and out of focus with another image. Her long raven hair was now in a short bob with blunt bangs, surrounding a severe face. Dark eyes hard as stones w
ere giving me a familiar, contemptuous glare. A pristine white apron covered her perfectly wrinkle free clothes.

  What the hell…?

  My gaze shifted toward Bronson, finding him much older than he had just appeared. His frame was taller and more slender, thinning auburn hair framing his now brown eyes that were surrounded in light crinkles. He wore a brown sweater vest with khakis and instead of the tattoo on the back of his hand, wrinkles and veins ran across it.

  Robert was also no longer a disfigured creature, a pair of muscular legs stretched out behind his thick frame. Tufts of hair so blonde it was white encircled his square face while a pair of light green eyes stared back at me.

  “You,” I mumbled, recognition swarming me and spilling angry heat through my veins. I recognized the three ghosts now looming around me and they were not vampire victims of the poison. They weren’t vampires at all.

  Melody, Headmaster Morgan, and Professor Reilly were surrounding me, the three hunters that had been at Mossgrove undercover last year. With the help of my dead great grandmother I stopped them from murdering a bunch of shifters and they were killed. I had always wondered if they would come back to haunt me. I guess I was right.

  “YOU!” I repeated, filling with a burning fury. This whole time they were trying to drive me crazy. They had me convinced I was to blame for the vampire murders. They had guilt eating me from the inside out.

  The three exchanged worried glances, realizing I no longer saw them in disguise.

  I scrambled up, trembling with outrage. “Yeah I recognize you all right. If you weren’t dead already I’d kill you.”

  With silent looks between the three of them they began backing away.

  “Oh, what, no more taunts or yucky bugs?” My fists clenched by my sides, wishing I knew how to hurt a ghost.

  They turned and fled, disappearing into the darkness.

  I was wearing a trail in the rug in my room, pacing back and forth like a caged animal. Someone sent those three after me. Someone had to be helping them. They couldn’t be powerful enough to not only change appearances completely, but manifest blood and bugs and torment me.

  “So you finally saw the three amigos for what they really were.” I jumped at Madison’s voice, finding her propped on the arm of the couch.

  “You knew?” I squealed.

  “Not exactly. I only knew something was off about those three.” She stood and sauntered around my room, touching objects with her finger to move them slightly. “I had no idea they were those hunters.”

  I crossed my arms against my chest with a huff. “And where have you been?”

  A crooked smile curled her lips. “Up to no good.” Her dark eyes glimmered wickedly.

  “Madison,” I warned, my thoughts going to all sorts of places, none of them good.

  “Just kidding. Sort of.” She came closer and plopped on my bed. “But the real question is who helped dumb, dumber, and dumbest get to you because none of them could have that much power when they’ve only been dead a year?”

  I groaned and sat next to her. “I don’t know. I read that another psychic could help them, but it would have to be someone who knows me. The only psychic I know is Celestia and she wouldn’t do it.”

  “You do know another.”

  My brow arched.

  “MJ.”

  A laugh tumbled out my mouth. “She’s not psychic.”

  Madison nodded and leaned back on her elbows. “She is. She’s just dormant. I can feel the power. All ghosts can.”

  My lips pursed in thought. “Well, even if that’s the case MJ wouldn’t hurt me either.”

  “I guess,” Madison said, staring off into the distance pensively.

  “Maybe someone else has gifts like mine I’ve met and didn’t know. Maybe someone is paying them… say like the Veronica and Anton Svenssons.” It seems like the perfect way to discredit me in front of the council.

  Madison shook her head. “I don’t know. They seem too obvious. What about Sasha?”

  My lip curled in contempt at the name. “I dunno. As much as I’d like to choke her, she doesn’t seem like the mastermind.”

  “Well then who?”

  Chapter 23

  I wiped steam off the mirror with the back of my hand, a squeaking echoing through the bathroom. I had just taken one long, hot shower. Now that I knew my three tormenters were actually evil, undercover hunters from Mossgrove Academy, a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. The real Dana, Robert, and Bronson were hopefully resting happily on the other side or at least not evil vengeful spirits out to get me because they blamed their deaths on me.

  Of course I would always feel some responsibility for the poison the hunters were using to kill us. I just felt a little less murderous. There was a little more pep in my step these past few days.

  That was probably the only reason my Russian shifter finally left to visit his parents for two days. Even though he didn’t know the reason behind it, he could tell a difference in me.

  I tossed on a matching pair of lacy red underwear and bra, running a wide tooth comb through my hair. Aspen had sent me some kind of miracle conditioner that allowed me to brush my snarled mess without breaking any teeth or bristles. It was amazing.

  A loud knock pounded on the door accompanied by that familiar electricity across my spine, telling me it was Mac before I even heard his angry voice.

  “Did you put that photo album of us on my bed,” he snarled. “Stop trying to force yourself on me.”

  I scoffed, my lip curling in contempt. “I didn’t put it there Mac,” I said calmly through the door. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Madison suddenly appeared next to me, holding back giggles with her hands. “It was me,” she snorted on another laugh.

  I bit my lip to keep my own laughter from spilling out. While Mac couldn’t hear her, he could certainly hear me.

  “You’re lying!” he yelled. “Who else would have done it? You’re still trying to force all these stupid memories on me that I don’t remember. Get it through your head Rubi. I. Don’t. Remember. YOU!”

  A mixture of annoyance and anger lit a fire within me. Without thinking I burst through door, forcing an angry Mac back a few steps, a cloud of steam following me. “I didn’t do it,” I ground out. “And I thought I made it clear I was done with you.” I poked his chest. “Or do you not remember me throwing your diamond ring back at you?”

  Shock morphed Mac’s expression as his eyes traveled down, surveying my scantily clad body. I hadn’t done it on purpose. I just forgot this Mac wasn’t used to this much of me. His sudden intense gaze burned a trail across my skin and lingered over the curves. Hunger seeped into his face, darkening his eyes while also brightening them with silver flecks. The look he was giving me was so familiar and so my Mac it had my feet inching forward to go to him before I snapped out of it.

  Instead a tiny smirk curled my lips and I planted a hand on my hip. “See something you like Mac?”

  His gaze reluctantly traveled back up to meet my eyes, his cheeks flushed with more than just anger now. He blinked. “I-uh-what?”

  I strolled passed him and began digging through my drawers for clothes, attempting to remain cool.

  He cleared his throat. “Look, I don’t remember anything about you.”

  I glanced up to see him jamming his fingers through his hair, mussing it up the way he used to wear it. The way I liked it. “Okay,” I said calmly, returning to my drawer and pulling out a tank top. “Like I said, I didn’t put the photo album on your bed.” I slipped a tight red tank top over my head, slowly squeezing it down my body. On purpose.

  He was watching me like a dog watches a steak sizzle. Cue the drool.

  When he noticed I noticed his gawking he shifted his gaze, awkwardly playing with the sleeve of his shirt. “I certainly don’t feel anything toward you.”

  Hmm. His voice sounded less than convincing. He may not remember me, but he sure liked what he saw and was abso
lutely feeling something. I glanced down his body. Yep, definitely something.

  ***

  My eyes opened, squinted at the bright florescent lights beaming harshly down from the ceiling, blurring the edges of my vision. An astringent smell permeated the space around me, tickling my nose. I was lying on a cold, hard, flat surface, something keeping me from moving more than my head.

  My heart skipped several beats at my immobility. Maybe I was having one of those paralysis dreams, unable to move a muscle.

  I shook myself and rapidly blinked my eyes to clear my vision. Stark white walls met gleaming white tiled floors. Metal counters and a mixture of metal, glass, and wood cabinets split the room. Syringes with long, gleaming needles sat on trays along with other sharp metal instruments.

  A gasp tumbled out my mouth as I realized I was in a hunter lab and even worse as I glanced down I saw the reason I couldn’t move. I was strapped to a metal examining table by thick metal bands. My heart slammed violently against my ribcage, threatening to break bones and hemorrhaging icy panic through my bloodstream. I struggled uselessly against the restraints even with my vampire strength.

  “None of that now princess.” A familiar voice laced with a Scottish accent struck my ears moments before William’s harsh, angry face appeared above me, his thick auburn hair framing those moss colored eyes filled with malice. “You can’t break those bonds.

  “Where am I? How did I get here?”

  A cruel smile twisted his lips, lighting his eyes with a terrifying gleam. He lifted a massive needle and jammed it into my heart, forcing a cry of agony as pain ripped through my chest.

  I looked forward, breathing raggedly and sweat beading my forehead as I watched deep crimson blood fill the needle and then coat the long tube connected to it. “W-What are you doing?”

  William leaned his elbows on the table, staring longingly at the red life flowing out of me. “Your blood is quite the anomaly.” He lifted the tube with the tip of his index finger. “It’s a rare prize really. Lethal.”