Altered Souls (Witch Avenue Series #2)

by Bolton, Karice

  We were only about ten feet from inside the store yet every step felt like a struggle with this amount of weight perched on me. Logan’s legs would sometimes take a step and other times only drag, but we would make it. We had no choice.

  Making it to the doorway, I scanned where to place him on the floor when it hit me. Several large workbenches, where my aunt, mom, and I often mixed tinctures and oils, seemed like the perfect option. Instead of every step feeling like a struggle, it felt like a victory.

  “Almost there,” I whispered not sure if he would even hear me.

  The overwhelming smell of whatever my aunt was working on last filled the air. It was an odd mixture of sweetness. It wasn’t a combination I was familiar with.

  Finally landing on the last table, I turned my body to gently wriggle out from under Logan. Trying to work as fast as I could without causing further pain, I climbed on the tabletop, and began hauling him onto the planked surface.

  “Come on, baby. We’ve got this.”

  His eyes were closed, skin pale, and shirt completely saturated with a deep crimson as I struggled to pull him into place.

  “Now about that reversal spell…” I said quietly, not expecting an answer, but praying for a miracle.

  I wasn’t sure if I should start trying to heal the slice on his skin or the possible infection that the spell referred to, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to figure anything out until I raised his shirt to assess the injury. I had no idea what to expect, but I was usually pretty capable around people’s injuries. At least that’s what I told myself.

  I ran behind the counter and grabbed a whole bunch of towels. Folding up one, I placed it under his head to act as a pillow and threw the others next to me. I wanted Logan to know everything I was doing, whether or not he could hear me.

  “Okay,” I whispered, “I’m going to start unbuttoning your shirt. I’m starting from the top and will work my way down.”

  He remained lifeless until my finger gently glided along his collarbone. A slight twitch of his mouth signaled life.

  Please let that be a sign.

  Not able to remain calm any longer, I ripped his shirt open, horrified at what I saw. It was alive — active. The room started spinning, and I braced myself. My legs began to buckle slightly, so I looked away trying to refocus my attention. I couldn’t associate the laceration with Logan. I needed to focus on healing the wounds, not the person. The injury could be on anyone. I had to separate the two; otherwise I’d never make it through.

  The strength returned to both my body and mind. I looked down at his injury to gauge what might be happening. Figure out how it was forming.

  From the look of the slice, the initial insertion point was where the infection began so the older the cut, the more likely the infection’s core.

  The positive side of that observation, if there could be one, was that the bleeding tended to stop wherever the infection had started. Infection points were signaled by tiny red veins darting under the surface of the skin, allowing me to figure out how the cut was spreading. As far as I could tell, the flesh wound broke off into two more directions and that was where the blood continued to escape. I couldn’t believe this was Logan I was staring at.

  “We’re going to get through this,” I replied.

  I tried not to look at Logan’s face. “First we’re going to purify your blood. I’m going to grab some sarsaparilla bark, senna leaves, and grape root. I’ll boil it quickly and apply it to the oldest part of your wound.”

  Talking to him helped me feel not so alone.

  “Once we get you conscious again, I’ll feed you lots of hoppy beer. See how crazy I can get you while I continue to purify your blood,” I hoped my fake sense of reality would help bring him calmness. Who was I kidding? I needed it to bring me calmness. “Hops actually have a lot of good attributes. When you get better we’ve got to find time for you to learn.”

  My stomach started twisting in knots at the thought of never getting to teach him healing or —I couldn’t go there. I needed to stay on task.

  Going to the far shelves, I realized whatever my aunt had cooked up last involved the main ingredients I needed, hence the sweet smell of root beer and grapes. The tincture was already on the shelf. How could that be? Not that I would have faith in her version— I needed to cook up my own batch— but why would she have brewed that particular tincture? Remembering Logan’s words about not trusting my aunt, I quickly grabbed the raw ingredients and headed to the stove, pouring everything into the pot.

  While the mixture heated, I continued onto the next compress for the other part of his wound. This wasn’t reversing the spell, but at least it might make his body begin to fight the infection so he’d regain consciousness, and we could go from there.

  “I’ve got what I need now,” I hollered back to Logan. As I grabbed the compresses and white pine and tea tree oils, I headed back to my patient. The mixture on the stove was beginning to boil, releasing more of the familiar scent of root beer and grape. I couldn’t worry about my aunt’s overwhelming ability to provide the right ingredients at the right times just yet.

  “This is going to sting a bit,” I told Logan, sprinkling the white pine oil on the freshest part of his cut.

  He gave no reaction — not even a grimace.

  “You can’t tell me that doesn’t hurt,” I teased him. “You don’t have to act this tough.”

  Instead of crying like I wanted to, I grabbed the compress and began dabbing away the dried blood and replacing it with tea tree oil. The pungent smell started to arouse a little movement from Logan. His brows furrowed slightly and excitement filled me. I wiped quicker and placed the open container of the liquid by his head, hoping it would add the extra oomph he needed.

  “Your blood and mind will be so pure after this episode, I won’t know what to do with you,” I whispered, but my voice caught, and I pushed down the tears that threatened to make an appearance.

  Grabbing the salve made from Red Oak bark, I began smearing it on his wound. Not that I was trying to hurt him, but I wanted some sort of sign as I applied the pressure that he was still with me. I wasn’t getting one. The fear that the infection was too rampant, and the blood loss too severe, frightened me to an almost paralyzed state. I couldn’t allow myself the luxury of a meltdown.

  My work stopped the infection, at least temporarily, from creeping up to the newly produced openings, which only created a small amount of gratification. I needed him to wake up. We needed to purge this spell. That’s the only thing that would completely stop it.

  The mixture on the stove was ready to use. The entire shop smelled like a sickening root beer float. I placed the pot on the next table over and shoved the gauze compresses into the pot. Watching the steam rise worried me a little, but I wanted to shock him. Using tongs, I grabbed the long pieces of white material out of the liquid and placed them on top of Logan’s abdomen. His back arched up, and his eyes flashed open in agony as the heat dove and swirled deep into his abdomen.

  “Please tell me how to be brave like you, Logan,” I whispered.

  He hollered in agony, but at least he hollered. He grabbed my hand and wouldn’t release it.

  “I love you, Logan. Please stay with me. Tell me how to reverse the spell,” I begged. “I don’t know how much time we have left.”

  Holding onto his fingers tightly with one hand, I tried comforting him with my other. Surprised by how much dried blood managed to cover my hand and arm, I quickly hid it from him to not cause more alarm.

  His breathing was erratic, but no longer shallow. There was a subtle strength stirring inside him. A moan escaped deep from within as his body began to slowly relax back down to the table.

  “Do you think you might be able to drink a sip of water? Valerian might help with some of the pain,” I said.

  He shook his head. The muscles in his neck completely strained.

  Letting go of my hand, he turned toward me and placed his palm on the tattoo that was alm
ost completely hidden by the mess his wound created.

  “Is this part of it?” I asked. “The spell?”

  He nodded while attempting to sit up.

  “Whoa, let me help.”

  “I got it,” he replied as he inched his way up slowly.

  Words! He spoke! Hearing his voice sent a shock wave through my system as it hit me that only minutes before there was part of me that wasn’t sure I would ever hear his beautiful voice again.

  “I was so worried—.”

  “We aren’t in the clear yet,” he mumbled, his voice almost hoarse.

  “You don’t want anything for the pain?” I asked.

  “I need a clear head for this. We need to stop him. Make him unconscious.”

  Even though it felt like I just resurrected the dead, I was quickly reminded of how dire our situation was by watching Logan’s somber expression. We clearly weren’t out of the woods.

  “This right here,” he said pointing at the artwork permanently embedded on his skin, “links me to your father. His organization. And as you know, Trevor’s part of that organization.”

  He avoided looking at me and continued.

  “It’s also what enabled Trevor to throw this kind of spell on me so quickly. I was hopeful he wasn’t capable, but I guessed wrong.” His words were filled with exhaustion and pain.

  I nodded waiting for him to proceed.

  “I can’t get rid of it, and I really don’t want to. It has some very helpful attributes…”

  “Logan, I love you. I do, but can we just get to how to reverse this? I don’t know how much time we’ve bought.” I placed my hand on his, searching his eyes for the sparkle I was so used to seeing, but only dullness was returned.

  “Do you have a small knife of some sort?”

  Nodding, I ran to the drawer where we kept all of our knives for preparing the herbs. Grabbing the smallest one, I poured a vinegar disinfectant over the blade while trying not to worry about what Logan wanted me to do with it. I had an idea, but hoped I was wrong.

  “Okay. Got it,” I said, standing in front of him.

  “When I recite the spell, there should be a part of the tattoo that glows. When that happens, I need you to insert the tip of the knife into that portion. Not deep, just into the flesh.”

  A lump formed in the back of my throat. I wanted to swallow but couldn’t. I was horrified at the thought of having to dig into his skin and couldn’t begin to understand why this would help. Maybe I should’ve let him continue explaining.

  “What will this do?” I asked, hoping he would look at me.

  “It should stop the person who cursed me.”

  “Trevor,” I stated.

  He nodded, “We are all bound together whether I want to be or not.”

  I wanted to learn more but didn’t have the luxury of time to find out.

  “I’m ready when you are,” I whispered. “You’re sure it will glow?”

  “Hundred percent,” he replied, attempting to smile. “You’ve got this.”

  I’m glad he had faith in this process because I sure didn’t. I took a deep breath and stared at the circle of darkness that swirled from quadrant to quadrant with one symbol after the other that I didn’t recognize while I waited for his words to deliver the spell.

  Quietness filled our space. The air was heavy with anticipation. I was about to look up when his words began.

  “Nota liberaret ancillam inveniret, qui prodit mendacium ante omnes.”

  Fixating on his tattoo, I began to get nervous when nothing happened. Afraid I might miss something, my eyes stayed glued to his abdomen.

  After a few moments of seeing only bare skin, a faint light began to radiate from a tiny portion of his tattoo. The area was no bigger than a pinhead, but it was large enough for me to complete the instructed task.

  I placed the blade against his abdomen, barely allowing the tip to enter into the ray of light that was guiding me. He’d been through so much agony in the last few hours. I didn’t want to make things worse, but I kept promising myself that this would end it all. The tip went in a little deeper and the light began to spread. Not knowing what to expect, I looked up at Logan who nodded his head, and he began again.

  “Partum a somnis tantum possum perturbare.”

  The apothecary shop filled with a brilliant light that poured out of Logan’s wound. He tipped his head back causing the light to disperse in all directions. Mesmerized by the beautiful glow that was canvasing the entire shop, I accidentally let go of the knife. Watching it tumble to the floor, I began to hyperventilate as worry rushed through me that I might have interrupted the process. How could I be so careless?

  “It’s okay. The process is in full swing now,” Logan whispered. Recognizing my panic, he softly touched my hand that was frozen mid-air. Moments earlier he was near death, and now he was taking care of me. Unbelievable.

  The muscles along his jaw were completely strained, but his expression no longer seemed filled with agony. He tipped his head back, took a deep breath in, and a smile spread along his lips as the light was sucked back into wherever it had come from. The tension inside me began to quickly dissipate as I realized that he was beating the curse. He was really going to be okay.

  Logan let out a groan that stopped my internal victory dance. I thought the worst was over. He squeezed my hand, slowly pulling me to him, but I was afraid I’d hurt him. He leaned forward and smiled, touching my chin with his thumb sending a current of happiness through me. His reaction wasn’t for the reason I feared.

  Unable to hide my smile, I looked into blue eyes that were full of the life I’d come to expect from him, and as mischievous as always.

  “Oh, my god,” I whispered, sliding my arms around his waist. “It’s a miracle.”

  “No, it’s magic,” he replied coyly, bringing me into his embrace.

  “Are you going to be okay?” I asked, resting my head on his chest.

  “Thanks to you,” he replied. “But I think it’s time I quit underestimating Trevor.”

  “You think?” I laughed, feeling Logan’s energy returning to its normal state.

  “We should probably grab what we need and get out of here,” he replied, his arms not letting go even though his words said something else.

  I nodded and felt the tears beginning again.

  “I thought you’d slipped away,” I whispered. “And there’s so much I’ve wanted to tell you.”

  “Well, I think we’ve got plenty of time for that now. It’s a long trip to New York.”

  “We need to stop in Illinois first,” I said.

  “Why’s that?” His embrace loosened slightly.

  “I’m worried about your mom. I think she’s in danger.”

  Chapter 8

  He turned the car down a narrow street where rows of trees created a canopy over the road. We had finally made it to Illinois.

  “Are we close?” I asked, in awe of the sprawling homes that lined the street.

  “Yeah…a little farther.” His voice was tense.

  We had driven over two thousand miles and the entire time we were unable to reach his mom. Between the images that Trevor’s mind spilled into mine, and my mom’s own disappearance, neither of us ran on much hope.

  “Maybe she didn’t charge her phone,” I offered, attempting to believe my own words.

  “Thanks for trying,” Logan replied, placing his hand on my knee. The familiar tingle ran through me, and I scolded myself.

  “We’ll find out soon enough,” he replied.

  The homes began to decrease in size but only slightly. Our home in Seattle was amazing — awesome really, but I think four of them would fit in one of these.

  “That street sign we passed didn’t say Logan Loop, did it?”

  Looking somewhat embarrassed, he gripped the steering wheel a little tighter.

  “I’m guessing we’re in your neighborhood now,” I continued.

  “My mom couldn’t resist moving to this stre
et for obvious reasons.”

  “You left this to come out to Seattle for college?” I turned in the seat to look at him, giving him my best skeptical expression.

  “I left this to come out to Seattle for you.” He shrugged and wore a crooked smile. “I kinda thought we’d established that.” He raised his right eyebrow, and a full smile spread across his lips.

  “Well, I didn’t think you’d be leaving this behind.” I smiled, waving my hand at everything I was seeing through the windows.

  “That’s a little superficial.” His laughter filled the car. It was the first time since we left Seattle that his wonderful melody reached my soul. It was nice to hear it again.

  “I’m only human,” I replied, trying to hide my smile. “And this is pretty impressive.”

  Who was I kidding? This actually frightened me a little. First, cleaning it would be horrible. Second, I wouldn’t want to be home alone in it. It’s too big. Third, well I guess that was it. I’d probably adapt pretty quickly.

  Unaware of the smile that had planted itself on my lips, Logan touched my chin softly to interrupt my daydreaming episode.

  “Too bad I’m not the one who owns it.” He slowed the car down as we approached a beautiful stone home.

  “Is that a guest house?” I asked, spotting a miniature replica of the grey house we were now parked in front of.

  “Yeah. That’s actually where I stayed the last year or so of high school,” he said, turning off the car.

  Wow, that’s some freedom to have in high school.

  It’s funny. I knew Logan’s father sold his business right before he passed away, but I never thought it was a business that would provide something like this.

  “It’s not looking promising,” Logan replied, snapping me back to the task at hand. “She rarely uses the garage unless she’s away, and her SUV’s not in the drive.”