The Lost Soul (Fallen Soul Series, Book 1)

by Jessica Sorensen

  She shakes her head and her eyes water. “No. I just feel so sick, like my brain’s fuzzy.”

  “Does it feel like a sprite’s in there?” I peek at her ear.

  She waves me away. “What kind of insane question is that?”

  “One that fits your insane behavior.” I watch her closely. “Are you sure you don’t mind Laylen waiting around in The Afterlife for a little bit longer while I go save Alex?”

  She bobs her head up and down. “Of course I don’t mind. Laylen can be there as long as he has to. He’ll be fine.”

  “Good.” I exhale, feeling bad, but knowing it’s got to be done. “Let me go get Nicholas and then we’ll go.”

  She intercepts my path. “Why does he have to go? He’s a weirdo.”

  “I need his moral support.” I pat her arm and scoot by, leaving her perplexed. I trot down the stairs and to the library. Nicholas is waiting from me with his shoes kicked up on the table. “There’s a situation going on upstairs.”

  “What? You have more faeries frolicking in your bedroom?” He smirks. “You know that portal’s still open.”

  I rub my temples. “I forgot about the portal… that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m pretty sure Aislin’s possessed by a Lost Soul.”

  He lowers his feet and shakes his head. “That’s not possible. Nothing’s wrong with Aislin’s soul. And Helena and her Lost Souls aren’t free yet, so the chance of her being possessed is low.”

  “Alex was possessed,” I point out.

  “Yeah, but his soul’s connected to yours. So he’s more susceptible.”

  “Well, she’s possessed by something.” I sigh. “Or she’s lost her mind. She wants me to leave Laylen in The Afterlife. In fact, she almost seems happy about it.”

  He scratches his head. “So what do you want me to do about it?”

  “I don’t know… we can’t just let her wander around though. She’s a very powerful witch. Mix that with evil and we’re in a lot of trouble.”

  He stands. “Just because she could be evil, doesn’t mean she’ll hurt us.”

  “Well she’s never liked you.” I turn for the door. “So an evil Aislin just might want to hurt you.”

  I climb up the stairs. Seconds later, he chases after me.

  “Fine, I can drop her off in the Foreseer’s holding cell.” He guides his hand on the banister as he steps up the stairway. “But if she’s not possessed, she’s going to be super pissed when I bring her back.”

  “Well, you shouldn’t care about that,” I say. “You don’t care about anything, remember?”

  “Who doesn’t care about what?” Aislin appears at the top of the stairs, her hands on her hips, a giant smile on her face. “This is a great day, isn’t it?”

  “She isn’t possessed by a Lost Soul.” Nicholas laughs, shaking his head. “But something definitely has hold of her.”

  “I know.” I gesture at Aislin. “Be careful with her, okay?”

  Nicholas presses back a smirk, stepping toward Aislin. “I’ll be as careful as I always am.”

  I jerk on the hem of his shirt and glare at him. “I mean it. Don’t hurt her. She’s my friend.”

  His eyes soften. “I won’t.” He smiles at Aislin and touches her hand. “You want to go somewhere really cool?”

  “Like an amusement park?” She jumps up and down, her sanity fading.

  “Sure.” Nicholas loops his arm with hers and takes the ruby-filled crystal ball out of his pocket. “Now hold on real tight.” Clutching the traveling crystal ball, he blinks them away.

  Moving on to my secret plan, I dash up the stairs and recover my cellphone out of my dresser. I highlight Alex’s number and hit dial.

  He answers after three rings. Laughing. “What’s up?”

  I bite down on my tongue until blood floods my taste buds. “It’s me. Gemma.”

  Silence.

  “Why are you calling me?” He sounds annoyed.

  “Why are you at Stasha’s?” I reply, equally annoyed. He doesn’t answer. “I thought you were dead. I thought Helena had you or maybe a Lost Soul possessed you again. Is that what happened? Are you some freaky Lost Soul with no control over your actions?”

  A pause. “Look Gemma, I’m really busy right now, so I’ll call you back later, okay?”

  I begin to object, but he hangs up on me. I toss the phone against the wall and it shatters. I scream into a pillow until my throat burns. Then I turn off my emotions, regain my composure, and proceed with my plan. Unlatching the window, I step onto the sill. Morning is arriving and the sky is a shade of pastel watercolors. My knees knock together as I stare horrified at the grass two-stories down. Just how bad of a death is a fall from this height?

  “If Alex wants to be with Stasha,” I mutter. “Then let him be with Stasha. Laylen needs my help more than him.” I just hope my mom’s right and I have a free pass to and from The Afterlife. And that I’m still immune to death.

  Bailing on Alex is like cutting my arm off—the Blood Promises that bind us are so strong. But forcing my feet forward, I take a breath and willingly leap for my death, hoping I’ll die long enough to make to the Afterlife.

  Chapter 19

  “Gemma Lucas, what have you done?” My mother’s voice soothes my aching body. “You can’t be here. She can’t have you.”

  Opening my eyes, I push up from the grass. The willow tree branches are like veil of cotton and a tepid breeze lulls my skin. My mother’s near the tree trunk disappointment chilling her features while strands of her brown hair whisper in the wind.

  “I had to come here.” I brush wisps of grass and fluffs of cotton off my knees and arms. “To The Afterlife anyway.” I glance from left to right. “Why aren’t I in The Afterlife?”

  My mother’s pale skin conveys a ghostly glow. “You can’t go to The Afterlife, Gemma.”

  I step toward her. “But I died and Lucinda said that’s where I’d go. Are you telling me she lied?”

  “Would you be surprised if she did? She’s the Queen of the dead.” She moves away from the tree trunk and sighs. “She didn’t lie to you, but you can’t go there. Helena will find a way to keep your soul this time and Annabella’s not around to save you anymore.”

  I gulp at the distant memory of the dream. “Because Helena ate her?”

  “Not necessarily ate,” she explains with an edge in her tone. “But more or less. Annabella is trapped in Helena’s body, which makes Helena very powerful at the moment. That’s why you can’t go there.”

  “What did Helena do to the Essences?” I ask. “In a dream I had, she went after them. Did she get them?”

  She glances around anxiously, links arms with me, and we stoop under the curtain of cotton branches. We stride for the garden, blooming with red and white roses. Hedges fence the towering trees and leafy flowers. Cotton and petals sail through the air. We find a corner, encased by thick rose bushes and tuck ourselves behind them.

  “For the most part, the Essences are okay. Annabella is trying her hardest to protect us.” Her voice is hushed, her eyes skimming the trees. “But there are some Essences that Helena’s possessed.”

  “Aren’t Essences just light?” I lean in, my voice low. “They actually have bodies?”

  She motions at herself. “I’m here, aren’t I? And Nicholas, you’ve seen him as a ghost.”

  “But I thought Essences were a ball of light,” I whisper, cupping my hands together, demonstrating. “I held Nicholas’ essence.”

  “The ball of light and our bodies are one and the same. The light is just our life, which Annabella keeps after we die.”

  “So there are Essences walking around here, possessed by Helena?”

  She nods. “Which means we must be careful. If the wrong Essence sees you, they’ll take you straight to her.”

  “But you said she can’t take my soul,” I point out. “That I have to give it to her, which I’m not planning on doing.”

  “Helena will find a way.” She peeks
over the rose bush. “She’ll find your weakness and use it against you.”

  “My weakness,” I deliberate. “Like Alex?”

  She urges me toward the egress of the garden. “Let’s not find out. You have to go back to your body, Gemma. And never come back here, not until things with Helena are smoothed over.”

  My feet root to the ground. “Mom, I can’t leave Laylen there. What if she turns him into one of her creepy mummies or something?”

  “Gemma.” Looking like she might cry, she takes my hand, her eyes pressing. “Gemma, if Laylen is there, he’s already dead. You do understand that, don’t you? You can’t enter The Afterlife without being dead.”

  “I…” With wide eyes, I observe the petals haunting the air. How could I have forgotten? The two times I journeyed to The Afterlife, I died. “But Aislin said he was there and she was happy so I didn’t even think…” My shoulders slump over. “But she was acting weird, like she was—” I buckle over, clutching at my chest, at my unbeating heart. “I think I’m…”

  “Oh no.” She seizes my arm and picks up the pace, hurrying toward the willow tree. “You’re crossing over, into Helena’s Realm. I have to send you back to your body...”

  “You can’t do…” My limbs droop and I crash to the ground. My skin shifts to wintriness blue. My muscles slither with an unnatural tingle. She desperately fights to sustain me. But I’m gone, abandoning her and the Essences for The Afterlife.

  ***

  I land in Helena’s chambers, my sneakers embedded on the blood red podium. The thorn embellished throne is empty, along with chains on the wall. I circle the room, passing the silvery-liquid mirror. It ripples my deathly refection, my skin like snow, my violet eyes circled with bags, my lips as purple as my veins.

  “Death is beautiful, isn’t it?” Helena greets me through the mirror.

  I jump back and she ambles out of the mirror, dragging a chain attached around a Lost Soul’s neck. It’s a strange looking Lost Soul, its features masculine and its eyes full of helplessness. Helena clips the chain to the wall and pats the Lost Soul on the head. She’s different from the last time I saw her. Her thin legs have lengthened, adding enough height that she’s almost even with me. Her eyes are still hollow, but her skin is smooth and her long hair is a honey gold. Can Annabella see me too? Is she watching from the other side of Helena’s eyes?

  Her long black dress with a high neckline sweeps the floor as she whisks to her throne. Long-legged black bugs with red hourglass-shaped spots on their bodies flood from her dress. I hop around like a scared little girl.

  “Black Widows! What the hell?” I stomp on the body of one, squishing it on the bottom of my shoe.

  “Careful. Someday one of them might squash you.” She scoops one up and lets it scurry across her hand, tilting her wrist to steer it. “You know the Black Widow is a really fascinating insect.”

  I cringe as one crawls across my shoe. “They’re gross and that’s about it.”

  She turns her hand upward. The Black Widow stands in her palm, buffing its legs together. “There’s a lot of mythology based on these creatures. Some believe them to be good luck. Others believe they’re an omen of the future. Some believe females are cannibals and that they eat their male partner after they mate.”

  “Ewe.” I gag, kicking a spider away. “That’s disgusting and way too much information. Plus, they’re extremely venomous.”

  “You say that like its bad.” She cups the Black Widow in her hand. “As a woman, I would think you’d understand.”

  “Again, ewe.” I want to cover my ears, but I refrain. “Male or female, cannibalism is gross.”

  “I’m not talking about cannibalism.” She places the Black Widow on the arm of her throne and leans forward. “I’m talking about being stronger, more powerful and not letting them stomp all over your heart.” She eyes the Lost Soul chained to the wall.

  “Like Alexander Avery did with your heart?” I ask audaciously. “Or with your sisters?”

  She snarls, then eyes me for an eternity, nitpicking my looks from head-to-toe. “I don’t understand what the fuss is about you, but for some reason guys seem to be drawn to you.” She thrums her fingers on the solid arm of the throne. “And you let them do whatever they want. I just don’t get it.”

  “Is that why you brought me down here?” I approach the throne with caution, stepping on spiders and trying not to throw up at the crunching noise. “To discuss my guy problems?”

  “They are more of a problem than you even realize.” She carries her head with arrogance, emitting self-confidence. “One playing you for a fool, the other nothing but a liar, and the last one…” Her black fingernail lines her lip. “Well, I’m not sure what the last one is to you.”

  I have no idea which description fits what guy, but there’s more to worry about at the moment. Like time. Any second, my death could expire. “Where’s Laylen?”

  She neither grins nor frowns, her demeanor collected as Black Widows cram the room, covering the walls, the floor, and the throne. “He’s safe for the time being.”

  “He’s dead,” I snap, flicking a spider from my cheek. “How’s that considered safe?”

  “Depends on how you look at it.” She gives an uncaring shrug. “Some consider death liberation.”

  “Where is he?” I grind my teeth, struggling to maintain my patience.

  “Who? Alex? Nicholas? Or the blonde one?” She licks her lips. “There are so many it’s hard to keep track of names. In my day, girls had to fight for the men, not the other way around.”

  “You know what?” I toss my hands in the air. “I give up.”

  She grins, thinking I’m surrendering, but she’s wrong. I just hope Alex taught me well. Sprinting for the podium, I thrust out my arms and seize her neck in my hands. The Black Widows scurry across the floor and up the walls. My chipped nails stab into her icy skin.

  “You can’t kill me,” she croaks, forcing herself up from the chair. Her hands serpent over mine. “But it’s nice to see you enjoy this. Maybe you do belong here after all.”

  My strength increases. “Tell me where he is.”

  Her lips part and she lets out the most malicious cackle, hacking up a Black Widow coated in her saliva. Vomit burns at the back of my throat, but I refuse to let go.

  “Fine, if that’s what you want, then I’ll give him to you.” She laughs to herself, clasps my wrists, and shoves me away.

  I stumble onto the podium, her excessive strength shock-waving my muscles. I realize she was toying with me the entire time.

  “You didn’t think you were really hurting me, did you?” She elevates her hands to eyelevel and claps her palms together twice. Her face lights up at something behind me.

  I turn and my jaw drops. Laylen. He’s as frail as a Lost Soul, but not mummified. His bright blue eyes are black, his skin pale, and his cheekbones are concaved.

  I move cautiously, fearing he’ll fall apart at the slightest movement. “What did she do to you?” I flick a spider from his shoulder. “Laylen, can you hear me?”

  “I liberated him,” Helena answers. “This is his death, Gemma.”

  “No, this is the life you took.” I whirl at her, my finger flaring. “Otherwise he wouldn’t be here.”

  “True,” she agrees. “But he is a very beautiful Lost Soul.”

  “He’s not a Lost Soul.” I shake my head, denying.

  “Not quite, but soon,” she replies greedily.

  I search his eyes for a spark of life, but he doesn’t blink, doesn’t breathe. He doesn’t know who he is—who I am—or where he is.

  “What do you want?” I turn back to the queen, choking on my tears. “How can I get you to free him?”

  “How much would you give up for him?” she asks intensely. “How much does this boy mean to you?”

  I’ve never been in this kind of a situation with Laylen. Alex, yes. Laylen, no. But I look at it the same, because I care for Laylen just as much as I care for Alex.<
br />
  “You want my soul?” I affirm.

  Surprisingly, she shakes her head. “No, not your soul. You know as well as I do that I can’t just take it. But there is a loophole.”

  Nervously, I note the chains on her wall, the Black Widows, and the forthcoming screams. “There’s always a loophole, isn’t there?”

  She stretches from her throne, taller than ever. The spiders scuttle for her. They start at her feet and spiral up her dress. Her black fingernails point up to the ceiling and she laughs with glee. “What I want from you Gemma is more than your soul.”

  I’m hit from the back, like a truck colliding with a wall. I fall flat on my face, in a pile of spiders. From my peripheral vision I spy a strange looking Banshee, its hair wispy and white and it moves like water. It takes down Laylen. His body smacks down onto the podium, his eyes open, lifeless. The Widows prey on him, scampering across his body as if they own him. The queen snickers again and a thousand swooshes pack the chamber.

  Warm light melts me as my body starts to revive. I scream as I’m ripped apart from the inside out.

  Chapter 20

  I jolt up, shrieking at the top of my lungs. The sky shadows above and the grass is crisp against my legs. My body is broken from the fall, disarranged and scratched. I feel strange, but alive and in control. My mother was right: Helena can’t take my soul without permission. But what about Laylen?

  “You went through with it, didn’t you?” Nicholas asks from behind me.

  I pivot around and totter to my feet. “I had to—I had to save Laylen.”

  “You’re always saving someone.” His eyes are like fireflies against the darkness of night. “The problem is no one ever saves you.” He eyes me over. “What happened? Do you still have your soul? By your nervous demeanor, I’m guessing yes.”

  I insert my arm back into the socket and crack my fingers into place. “Yes, I still have my soul.” I dart past him and investigate the front yard.

  He marches after me. “What are you looking for?”