The Lost Soul (Fallen Soul Series, Book 1)

by Jessica Sorensen

  His blonde hair glows against the moonlight. “Your soul connection renders your true feelings from showing though.”

  “I know what I feel.” But my heart whispers different thoughts; lies, I tell myself. “We belong together.”

  “That kind of love makes you weak,” Nicholas replies sadly. “It will be the end of you if you don’t get control of it.”

  I reach him, my face only inches away from his. “And who should I love, Nicholas. You?”

  He licks his lips, waiting for me to kiss him. So I do, crushing my lips against his and betraying my other half, and my heart, eternally.

  ***

  My eyes open to a room full of sunshine. The curtains are opened. Alex is snuggled against me, his head buried in my neck. He’s dressed in a pair of black cargo shorts and red t-shirt, both dried with mud. He’s been up already. I sit up and stretch, shaking off the creepy feeling of last night’s dream. Nicholas and I kissing—what’s wrong with me? I’m letting the faerie get into my head too much. I need to be stronger.

  “Go back to sleep,” Alex mumbles. “It’s still early.”

  I carefully lift his arm off me and go over to the window. His car’s parked in the driveway. The windows are shattered and there’s a dent in the driver side door. Laylen’s head’s stuck under the hood. An array of tools is piled by his feet and jumper cables connect the GTO’s battery to the Camaro’s.

  “Did you know Laylen’s out there working on your car?” I ask, cracking the window open to let some fresh air in.

  Alex props up on his elbow. “Of course I do. We went and towed it home this morning.”

  I cringe. “You went back to the field without me. I don’t think we should go there anymore.”

  He pats the bed and I climb back in. “Stop worrying.” He sits up and rubs his weary eyes. “I’m fine. Laylen’s fine. The car’s fine. Everything is absolutely, one-hundred percent great.”

  I flop down on the pillow, noting his overly cheerful behavior. I’m still wearing my clothes from last night and I feel dirty. I need to take a shower. “Well, thank God the car’s okay. For a minute, I was beginning to really worry.”

  “Always worrying over nothing.” A grin plays at his lips and he smoothes his hair into place. “So what’s first on today’s agenda?”

  “First, fixing the Crystal of Limitation and then persuading a Foreseer,” I answer. “Did you happen to think of one other than Nicholas?”

  “Nope, so I guess he’s our best bet.” He stretches his arms over his head and his shirt rides up, showing a sliver of his rock-hard stomach. Without even thinking, I trail my fingers along the space of his skin, feeling the grooves of his muscles. “You should probably go get him. He seems to like you.”

  My hand freezes. “You think I should be the one to go get Nicholas?”

  He nods agreeably. “It’s probably the best way to get him to agree.”

  My head buzzes with confusion and I pull my hand away. “I’m sorry, but is something wrong? You’re acting a little weird.”

  He looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “I’m not acting weird.” He lures me on his lap and kisses the tender spot on my neck just below my ear. “I’m acting like myself.”

  I tilt my head back and stare him in the eyes. “No, you’re not. You’re acting happy and… Did Aislin accidentally hit you with a mellow spell again?”

  He feigns to remember. “Not that I know of.” He kisses my neck again, sliding his tongue along my skin, and my shoulders shudder in desire.

  It takes a lot, but I jerk from his arms. “How’s your cut doing?” My fingers seek the hem of his shirt, but he swats my hand away.

  “If you’re not into this,” he gestures back and forth between us, “then I can go.” He shoves me off his lap and strides for the door. “I have better things to do than sit around, talking.” He slams the door, leaving me with my jaw hanging to my knees.

  “What the heck is going on with him?” I jump off the bed and dash to Aislin’s room. “Aislin, are you in there? I need to talk to you. It’s important.”

  A shuffle and then something clanks against the door. Seconds later, it opens. Aislin eyes are ample, her white shirt unevenly buttoned, her golden hair static charged. I’d worry I was walking in on her and Laylen, but Laylen’s outside.

  “Everything okay?” I ask, scanning her room. It’s a mess; clothes everywhere, the bed a heaping pile of sheets and blankets, and bottles litter the vanity.

  “Huh? What?” She peers over her shoulder. “Oh, yeah, everything’s fine. I just had a spell backfire.”

  “Speaking of spells; you didn’t happen to accidentally hit Alex with one, did you?”

  “No, why?”

  I push my way in. “Because he’s acting weird.” I draw the lacy curtains back and the sunlight pours in. Outside, Laylen and Alex are chatting in front of his car and smoke is huffing out of the exhaust. “Good. They got his car running.”

  “Huh… oh, yeah, the car.” She lets out a nervous laugh. “Guys and their cars. But what are you going to do?”

  She’s acting strange. I check around, my eyebrows furrowed together. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  Aislin casually steps in front of the closet door. “I’m fine. But I’m really busy so if you could,” she waves her hand at the door, “you know, go. That would be great.”

  I point my finger at her, raising my eyebrows. “Wait a minute. I know what this is about. And let me just say that I’m really sorry. Laylen didn’t want to go, but I made him.”

  She stares blankly at me. “What are you talking about?”

  “You know, the other night, when I had Laylen get that address for me—the one to Nalina’s.”

  Her body judders forward with the door and her eyes pop wide. “Apology accepted. Now can you go? Like I said, I’m really busy.”

  I lean to the side, watching the door crack open and shut. “Are you hiding someone in the closet?”

  She shakes her head swiftly. “Why would I be hiding anyone in my closet? That would be weird.”

  “About as weird as you’re acting.” I march up, scoot my hand behind her back, and grab the doorknob.

  “Gemma, don’t,” she stammers. The door rocks forward and backward. Aislin uses her weight to force it shut. “If you open it, we’re in trouble.”

  “We’re in trouble,” I say, deciding whether to push or pull on the door. “I don’t know what’s going on.”

  “Just help me lock it and I’ll explain,” she pleads. “Find something to shove up against it.”

  I remove my hand and hunt the room for a heavy object. “It would help if I knew what was in there.” I grab the handle of a small metal trunk. “Is it strong? Big? Magical? What is it?”

  “Umm…” She stumbles from another thrust of the door and scurries backward. “Get something heavier than that.” She points a finger at the bed. “Drag that over here.”

  It’s a thin metal-framed bed, but it takes a minute to haul it over. Once it’s secure, Aislin relaxes, collapsing on the bed with her hand draped over her forehead melodramatically.

  “So do you want to tell me who’s in there?” I eye the door, which is still jiggling. A choir of giggles flow through the opposite side. “Or what’s in there?”

  She pulls a guilty face. “I think I messed up.” The door smacks the bed and then flings shut. “Like really, really bad.” She hops up and adjusts the bed as near to the door as it will go. “You know how I was really upset about the whole Luna thing.”

  “I told you not to worry about that,” I tell her. “We’ll figure out how to get Aleesa out without freeing the greedy Empress.”

  She fluffs a pillow on the bed. “I know you did and I know you meant it, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it. And the more I did, the more pissed I got. I mean, how dare she threaten me. Me. Me! Doesn’t she realize how powerful I am?”

  “I think that’s what the problem is,” I say. “She must know you’re powerful and
that’s why she’s trying to get you to do a spell.”

  “Too bad for her, because I have my own plans.” She smoothes the static from her electrically charged hair. “Well, I had my own plans—a brilliant plan.” She looks at the door warily. “Or at least I thought I did.” She starts picking up the clothes on the floor. “I used a spell to open the Faerie Realm inside the closet. Those little giggles belong to sprites.”

  Slowly, my gaze travels to the closet door. “There are sprites in your closet?”

  A flutter of giggles answers for her, followed by hammering on the door.

  “Yeah, and there’s an entrance to the Faerie Realm.” She folds a shirt and tucks in the dresser.

  “How did you… what did you…” I clear my high-pitched voice. “Aislin, we have to fix this.”

  “Oh, don’t worry,” she says, picking up a pair of khakis. “Luna still can’t get through. She was banished by witches centuries ago, and she can’t leave the Faerie Realm without an unbinding spell.”

  I gape at her. “Aislin, are you hearing yourself?” I signal my hand at the door, speechless. “There’s a realm to Faerie Land inside your bedroom closet, which is now inhabited by sprites. And if I remember right, sprites are mean little buggers.”

  She shrugs, putting the jeans in the drawer. “Gemma, quit worrying. They just bite. That’s all.”

  “Gemma.” One giggles.

  “Great. Now they know my name.” I flop my hands against my legs dramatically.

  “So what? They know your name.” She urges the drawer shut. “It’s not like they’re going to look up your phone number and start calling you or something.”

  “They’re not going to do anything,” I say. “Because you’re going to get that realm shut down.”

  “No.” She stares at her crookedly buttoned shirt. “I’m going to go through it. I just need to figure out a way to get past the sprites and perfect the Tracker Spell so I’ll know where Luna and Aleesa are. I need to be able to get my bearings.”

  “I thought you had that spell perfected?” I ask. “I’ve seen you use it like a thousand times.”

  “This is different,” she replies. “This is using a spell on a magical world. It’s complicated.”

  The bed legs creak against the stone floor and the door launches open. Aislin rushes to the trunk and stacks it next to the bed.

  “Start piling things against it,” she orders.

  We work quickly, pushing every piece of furniture in the room up against the door. When we’re done, the room’s a mess, but the door’s secured.

  “It works.” I back from the pile with my hands on my hips. “At least for now it does. But, I don’t think you should go through the realm. It’s too sketchy.”

  “Gemma, how many things have you done that are sketchy?”

  She has me there. “Well, don’t go alone, okay? Take me or Laylen or even Alex with you.”

  She laughs doubtingly. “Like I’m even going to tell them—they’d freak. Especially Alex. He’d say I misused my power and then he’d force me to close it. You know he would.” Her green eyes bore into me. “And you can’t tell them either. Promise me you won’t.”

  “I just made a promise with Alex about being honest,” I explain with a dreary sigh. “I can’t start keeping things from him again.”

  “But you said he was acting weird, right?” She asks and I nod. “Okay, so if you keep this a secret, I’ll help you figure out what’s up with Mr. Mood Swings out there.”

  I dither, but only briefly. “Okay, you got yourself a deal. But I’m going into the realm with you.”

  “Deal. First let’s get to the bottom of Alex.” She heads to leave. “Although, I doubt there’s anything wrong with him. He just gets weird sometimes. It’s in his genes or something.”

  “This is different.” I tell her about the windstorm, the cut in his chest, and my dream.

  “And it’s on his chest?” She loops a ringlet of her golden brown hair around her finger, lost in thought. “I think I’ve heard of this before.”

  “You think it’s a witch thing?” I ask, surprised. “Like maybe a witch put a spell on him?”

  She shakes her head slowly. “No, I think it might be darker than that.”

  “Like maybe black magic?” I ask.

  She scratches her head. “Okay, let’s go talk to him and I’ll see if anything pops into my head.”

  We put on our game faces and go outside into the warm sunlight. I’m skeptical, though, since Aislin isn’t good at putting on a Poker Face. Laylen and Alex are still messing with the car. The hood’s down on the GTO and the Camaro’s no longer running. Tools are thrown all over the ground and grease stains their shirts, pants, and faces.

  “Hi guys.” Her smile is overly cheery. “What’s up? Is the car not working?”

  Alex cleans the grease off his hands with an old rag as he eyes Aislin distrustfully. “What’s up with you?”

  I want to smack her on the head and then smack myself in the head for agreeing to the plan. I brush by them and walk around the car, glancing in at the leather passenger seat, littered with glass.

  “Looking for clues to your supposed Afterlife theory?” Alex asks contemptuously.

  I turn and narrow my eyes. “No, I was seeing if you by chance lost your mind in there.”

  His demeanor is indifferent. “There’s nothing wrong with me. It’s you that has the problem. I mean what is it with you and your feelings. If you can’t get over your insecurities then this relationship isn’t going to go anywhere. In fact, I’m kind of sick of being with someone who’s emotionally challenged.”

  It’s like we’re high school all over again. He was a complete douche bag the first time I met him in class and for quite a while after that. Red burns my vision and I slap him across the cheek.

  “Gemma!” Aislin races over. “What are you doing?”

  Giving me a dirty look, Alex pops his jaw into place.

  “In case you were wondering,” I seethe. “That was the emotionally challenged girl getting pissed off.” I storm off, coddling my hand, because it hurts like hell.

  Aislin chases after me, her flip flops scuffing the dirt. “What happened to our play-it-cool plan?”

  “That’s not Alex.” I burst into the house, stomp to the stairs, but then backtrack to the front door. “That’s the old Alex out there. The one I first met that was brainwashed by your father.”

  “Oh my God…” Aislin exhales, her eyes bulging. “I think I might know what’s wrong with him. Come on.” She grabs my arm and yanks me down the hallway and into the basement. She locks the door and turns on the light. The stairs protest under our weight as we haste to the bottom floor. “What you said made sense. Alex is brainwashed again.” She removes an old painting of the castle from one of the lower shelves and reaches to the back.

  “He’s brainwashed again?” I slide the painting out of the way. “By your father? Because Aislin, he’s dead. And there was nothing left of his body but ash, so I don’t think there’s a possibility of pulling a zombie move.”

  “I know that. And zombies don’t exist.” She rolls her eyes as she heaves out a shabby leather book. “Not by my father. By a Lost Soul.”

  Chapter 8

  “Lost Souls can’t cross over unless they’re freed from The Afterlife,” I say with skepticism. “And even then, they’d have to return to their own bodies. At least, that’s what happened when I freed them.”

  “Yeah, but this is different.” She sits cross-legged on the floor and opens the book on her lap. “Not a whole lot of people know this, but Lost Souls used to roam the world back in the day.”

  I kneel, angling my head to look at the brittle pages. “That’s hard for me to imagine. Lost Souls are… well, they’re not the best looking creatures in the world. They look a lot like mummies.”

  “The Death Walkers were hideous,” she points out, turning the page. “And they were all over the place before you killed them.”

 
; I remember the monstrous beasts, with yellow eyes and skin like rotting corpses. “Good point.” I scoot beside her so I’m looking at the pages right side up. “You said they used to roam the world. So what happened to them?”

  “The Keepers happened.” She fans through the pages, the edges of the paper grazing her hair. “They forced them back into The Afterlife and forbid the Queen to let anymore cross over. There was this little thing,” She holds her hand out to the side, snapping her fingers, considering something. “I think it was called a sigillum cristallum. It was a crystal they stole from The Afterlife and when they brought it here to the Human World, it stopped Lost Souls from crossing over. Of course, with a little help from Wicca magic.”

  “What about the Queen?” I ask. “Has she ever stepped foot into the Human World?”

  “Not that I know of,” Aislin replies, drumming her chin. “But it doesn’t mean it can’t happen. Why? Are you thinking about your dream?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m thinking.” I skim my fingers along the page, filled with sketches of mummies, chains, and words of another language. “Is this a book about Lost Souls?”

  “It’s the history of The Afterlife.” She turns to the next page. “It talks about the rise and fall of The Lost Souls and what they did when they walked the world.” Her finger browses the page. “They took possession of human bodies, ones with broken souls.”

  “Alex’s soul isn’t broken, though,” I say.

  “But it’s not normal either. It’s connected to yours, which could make it vulnerable to Lost Soul possession.”

  “But wouldn’t it make mine vulnerable too?”

  Her eyes rise to me and then land on my hand. “Do you feel strange? Like maybe your mind’s not your own?”

  I think of the dream I had with Nicholas. But Aislin doesn’t know about that. “If you’re talking about the slap,” I say, cuddling my hand. “Then you should know he deserved it. He called me emotionally challenged.”

  Her expression suspends in disbelief. “He actually said that to you? What a jerk. There’s definitely something going on with him.” She closes the book, tucks it under her arm, and gets to her feet. “Let me read through this and see if I can find anything that might tell us how to kick a Lost Soul out of a human body. If we can do it, then we’ll know if he’s possessed.”