Altered Souls (Witch Avenue Series #2)

by Bolton, Karice

  My head was pounding and the idea of successfully running down the hill didn’t seem promising. The group quickly disbanded, scattering in every possible direction.

  Logan’s fingers were woven between mine, but he wasn’t running as fast as the others. Instead he was slowing until he stopped. Everyone had managed to get off the hillside. Why were we stopping?

  “There’s no point in running,” he whispered.

  “What do you mean? Who’s coming?”

  He turned to look behind me, his gaze steady. I took a deep breath in and spun around to see the entire hillside covered with a sea of cloak-wearing witches. Cowards sent by my father.

  “What do you want?” Logan growled.

  “We’ve come in peace. We heard we had some out-of-town guests so we only wanted to welcome you.”

  “I doubt that,” Logan replied, moving me next to him.

  “No. It’s true. Nicholas wanted to warmly welcome you to the Adirondacks. In fact, he’d love it if his daughter would come for a visit.”

  “Do you have your wand?” Logan’s words popped into my mind, but his lips weren’t moving. That tattoo was working!

  Afraid I’d botch something up, I simply nodded.

  “Don’t use it unless they strike at you first,” he continued.

  “So what will it be? Can we expect your company soon? We know you’re aware of where we live, since dumping poor Preston off,” the leader said.

  “I have no interest in coming alone,” I replied.

  “Your father only wants to see you. He’s dealt with your boyfriend enough to know he has no need for him.”

  The anger was bubbling inside of me waiting to explode.

  “Then I guess my father will be waiting for quite some time,” I yelled over the wind that was picking up.

  “You have until sunset tomorrow to arrive at the Great Camp or we will take you forcefully and destroy everyone you love in doing so,” the leader said.

  My heart was racing. How dare my father threaten me. I reached for my wand and readied my stance.

  “Don’t do it, babe,” Logan whispered. “It’s not worth it.”

  “Thank you for the message,” I hollered over the howling wind. “Tell him I’ll think about it.”

  The group members bowed their heads and retreated.

  “To have this many people interested in us, we must be doing something right,” Logan replied.

  I smiled at him as he brought me into his embrace.

  “I’ve got a really important tip,” he murmured.

  “Yeah?” I asked.

  “Always wait until someone else strikes first. But once you begin, fight until you can no longer fight.”

  Chapter 18

  “Are you ready?” Logan asked.

  We were in our bedroom, and I could hear the bustling of everyone downstairs as the nervous energy soared.

  Shaking my head no, I replied a simple, “Yes.”

  “You’re gonna be okay, baby.” He brought me into his embrace, and I wanted to stay in his arms, but I knew there was no turning back. Everyone and everything had mobilized and were waiting for my part in this whole thing — my pretend capture.

  “The sooner we get going, the sooner you’ll be back in my arms.” He was doing a good job of staying strong. His voice was resolute, hiding any sign of uncertainty that I felt.

  Logan wasn’t rushing me, always the gentleman. He waited until I released my arms and took a step back, readying myself for the encounter of a lifetime.

  “Everyone know what’s expected of them?” I asked.

  He nodded.

  “All right, let’s go.” I shakily grabbed my bag and wondered if there were any cracks in our plan. It seemed solid, especially since Dace and Bakula became involved, but a tiny seed of doubt wanted to sprout, and I had to push it down continuously. If nothing else, I had to act strong. I couldn’t meet my father with a wobbly handshake or a trembling hug.

  “So we’ve got the vials that I prepared?” I asked, making myself go into warrior mode. We were headed down the stairs.

  “We’ve got the vials, bottles, and several sets of dried bouquets in case you need something else we didn’t account for. That was Jenny’s idea,” Logan replied. “I thought it made sense.”

  “And the snake?” I asked.

  “The snake has been boxed up and will be released on the outside of the walls,” Logan replied. “And the pendant will be at the end of the wall, near the lake. We’ve got food drops prepared for you too.”

  I felt the ache in the tattoo that Logan and I shared. Even though he was doing an incredible acting job, our shared bond told another story. And it was comforting to know his heart hurt as much as mine.

  “If you need anything from Dace or Bakula —” Logan began.

  “I know… I’ll contact you,” I interrupted, giving him a little smile. A slight grin spread on his lips.

  “At least you’re not losing your fire in all of this,” he teased. His eyes were hauntingly beautiful even though they held the sorrow of the moment.

  The longer I stayed in the house the worse it was going to be to leave him.

  I nodded at him, and he opened the front door. I felt the crisp fall air hit my skin. The beginning of evening started to creep into this part of the world, and I realized we’d better hurry so I could get in to see my father before sunset.

  Jenny had been in the garden, and came running up to me, and gave me a hug.

  “I love you, Triss. Your mother will be proud of you. You’ll get her back, and she’ll see what you’ve accomplished,” Jenny said, holding back the tears.

  “Love you too, and thank you for coming. Please thank your parents for me,” I replied.

  A lump in the back of my throat formed as the words sunk in because this trip was no longer solely to get my mom back. I hoped with everything inside that I would be able to turn her back to her old self — the beautiful, selfless woman she was before she became an Altered Soul — but there was no guarantee.

  I was going into the compound determined to stop a legacy of my father’s making. I no longer wanted his history to create anyone else’s future. That was my goal.

  Logan placed his hand on my shoulder, and I let go of Jenny only to see hundreds of people, many who I didn’t recognize, standing around us.

  “Protegat animosique unum,” They began singing, sending chills up my spine. “Tueri divina. Protegat animosique unum. Tueri divina.”

  “Thank you,” I replied to them all, as I climbed into the car.

  “Spirited one, huh?” I asked when Logan got into the driver’s side.

  “You caught that?” His eyes twinkled. “I can’t think of a better adjective for you.”

  I looked down quickly uncertain of my place in all of this. Was it only because I was my father’s daughter? Would my mother’s ancestors answer our calls like the fairies hoped?

  “Protect the spirited one. Protect the divine. It couldn’t be more true,” he whispered, grabbing my hand as we drove out of town, and I was left to wonder if any of it was true.

  The closer we drove to my father’s Great Camp, the more my tattoo throbbed. My skin felt like it was on fire and when it wasn’t burning, it was pulling and twisting — only it wasn’t.

  “You’re feeling that too,” I stated as I saw the grimace spread across his face.

  “It will be nice when what we share is joy and goodness. I doubt it will be quite this painful,” he laughed, and I committed the beautiful melody to memory.

  “Tell me about it.” I squeezed his hand, seeing that we were only a minute away from where I was going to be dropped off.

  “I wish you’d let me walk you to the lake,” he said. His voice was almost hoarse.

  “We can’t,” I replied softly, shaking my head.

  Logan turned the car onto the shoulder of the road as we arrived at my drop-off point and turned off the engine.

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath in. This
was it.

  “Triss, you are my world,” he whispered. “If anything goes wrong, you’ve got to tell me. We can come get you out.”

  His arms wrapped around me and I buried my head in his shoulder. He lifted his hands and caressed my hair, my face. He didn’t want to let me go.

  “I will do anything to protect you,” he whispered with his mouth pressed against my hair. “You know that, right?”

  I shook my head and began to push away, but his lips caught mine in one last effort to make his point. The desperation in our kiss relayed everything that we couldn’t say out loud. The tears threatened to fall as my mind wondered if this would be the last time I was in his arms. I admonished myself for thinking such thoughts and as if to prove my point, began backing away faster.

  “I should probably get going.” The atmosphere between us shifted as he released me into the uncertainty that lay ahead.

  The painful expression he wore stabbed at my soul.

  I hesitated a moment, placing my hand on his chest. His eyes were wide and solemn, shaking his head as if to reassure himself.

  “I love you, Logan,” I replied, feeling the back of my throat begin to constrict. I couldn’t cry. There was no way I’d be able to show up to see my father with tear-stained cheeks. “And remember that I’d do anything to protect you too.” I winked at him, hoping to lighten the mood, and was relieved to see a smile break on his lips.

  “Always a competition,” he teased, but the sadness in his eyes couldn’t be hidden this time.

  I got out of the car, grabbed my pseudo-surveillance bag, and looked back at him one last time.

  My stomach twisted into knots as I turned around and walked along the trail to the lake entrance. Relief spread when I saw the canoes floating. The first task of me getting to my father’s camp was working out.

  I threw my bag in the canoe closest to me and realized how much easier it was to get in a wobbly boat of any kind when there was someone else to hold it steady. I refuse to fail right out the gate! Pulling the canoe closer, I decided that it might be safer if I walked along the edge leading the canoe to an area where I could manipulate my surroundings.

  Tugging on the canoe’s rope, and tripping my way over to a mass of tangled grass and brush, I stood on the mound while I attempted to half crawl-step into the unstable fiberglass death trap.

  My heart was already racing, and I hadn’t even started paddling toward my father. Giving myself one last heave, my body toppled into the canoe. I made it!

  Not allowing myself to get overly confident, I looked around the vacant water and pushed off with the paddle.

  With every stroke bringing me closer to my father’s clutches, my stomach twisted in knots. I needed to be seen, and the rest would fall into place.

  I smelled smoke in the air and wondered if there was yet another ceremony I might be intruding on. That would make the process go quicker… more chances to be seen. Rounding the corner, I saw a bustle of activity. It was a nice evening, and it looked like everyone at my father’s camp must have been taking advantage of it. I stopped paddling and let the canoe glide slowly to the shore hoping my presence would become known.

  The realization that I was truly alone hit me. I was floating in the middle of a lake waiting to be found by a father I didn’t know, a mother who seemed to have forgotten me, and an aunt who possibly had a hand in planning the events that got me here. Never feeling this amount of isolation before I stared straight ahead at my father’s property, attempting to turn the loneliness I was feeling into anger. That would be far more productive.

  My tattoo continued to burn, and I wanted to tell Logan I was about to enter the grounds, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want anything to give away the secret of what we shared between us.

  “Trespasser,” a woman’s voice hollered.

  My heart started racing. This was it. This was what I was waiting for, and I didn’t have to wait long. A group of people began running toward the bank. I scanned the crowd for anyone I might recognize and found no one.

  I began quickly paddling in the opposite direction in an attempt to look like I didn’t want to be captured.

  “That’s no trespasser. She’s my daughter,” my father’s voice boomed. “Now go pull her in and help her to safety.”

  Hearing those words prickled my spine as I watched ten or so of his followers run toward the water, toward me.

  “Oh, my Triss,” my father spoke, “I knew our paths would cross. Welcome home.”

  He walked a couple feet down the bank. I slowed my paddling, squinting at him.

  “Don’t be frightened. I’m your father. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.”

  My eyes darted to the ten or so witches who had come to stand by his side.

  “Bring her in,” he commanded.

  I brought my paddle inside the canoe and grabbed my bag.

  “Don’t do whatever you’re thinking,” my father warned. “Put the bag down.”

  I nodded and placed it near my feet, puzzled that he thinks I’d be foolish enough to try something from where I was.

  The group had gotten to my canoe and began pulling me in. More people had gathered along the bank’s edge, but still I still recognized no one. As the canoe slid onto the mud, I started to get out of the canoe.

  “Help her out. Don’t let her fall,” my father snapped. “She’s blood. Start treating her with the respect she deserves.”

  I attempted to swallow, but my throat refused to make that movement and the nausea began rising. I avoided my father’s stare and glanced at the group of men who had just gotten admonished by someone who was close to their own age. I didn’t understand how they could let someone treat them like this, chemicals or not.

  The gray haired man, who upon closer inspection, was probably older than my father grabbed my bag. There was nothing in it other than what we wanted them to find so I was fine.

  “I’ve got it,” I said, standing up in the canoe with a strength and stability I certainly didn’t have on the other side of the lake.

  “No, Miss. We must help you,” one of the men whispered.

  These poor souls.

  I extended my arm out, and he bowed under it, picking me up unexpectedly. I wanted out of his arms so badly. He walked me up the bank toward my father and set me down.

  “You look frightened, Triss,” my father said.

  Here he was. My father. I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t. His features were strong, and if I didn’t know what he was lacking internally, he might be considered handsome.

  He extended his broad, thick-fingered hand toward me, and I fought the impulse to jump back. I didn’t want to touch him. I didn’t know what to do.

  “Did you come to spy or is this your way of accepting my invitation?” He sounded amused.

  I shrugged my shoulders.

  “Beatrice, are you alone?” he asked. Beatrice! He was the one who sent that being in after me at the cottage, but why didn’t it finish its job? Could Logan be right about the purity thing?

  “I’ll take that as a no,” he replied, pointing at the men behind me. “Canvas the lake and bring me the others.”

  Finally finding my voice I spoke.

  “There are no others. I’m the only one,” I said, looking up into my father’s eyes. They were as clear as mine. I wondered what my mom’s would be like after being here so long.

  “Go anyway,” my father ordered. “The person you’re looking for is Logan, a former student of mine. I’m sure he’s out there somewhere.”

  I knew he was nowhere near the lake, but my heart still constricted when I heard my father mention Logan’s name.

  “Where’s my mother?” I asked, staring directly into my father’s gaze.

  “Napping. She does that a lot. You’ll have to excuse her.”

  “Not coming to meet me is the least of the things she has to be sorry for,” I snarled, unable to hide my anger.

  “Don’t be cross at her. She loves you, as do I.” />
  It took everything I had not to scream at him that this wasn’t love. This was hate, deceit, narcissism, evil, so many things, but love wasn’t one of them.

  “What were you hoping to find out on your little mission, my dear?” he asked, touching my chin. The revulsion shot through my body, and I was unable to hide it. He slowly shook his head and pursed his lips. “We’ll have to change your ideas about me. Did you get my note? You could have come anytime to see her.”

  His ability to distort reality was impressive, and it also explained why he could cause so much damage without the help of magic or mind altering chemicals. I had to find out if he truly believed the words he was speaking.

  “Triss.” I heard Ellsy’s muffled voice echo through the air. My eyes shot in the direction of her yell. It came from one of the buildings to my left, but which one? There were so many.

  “Run, Triss. Get out of here,” she cried.

  “Let me see Ellsy,” I said to my father.

  “Can’t let you do that,” he replied.

  A woman’s arm waved from the farthest building out a tiny, barred window. I turned my attention quickly to my father.

  “Well, what will you let me do?”

  He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and began walking us toward the main house.

  “First things first, I’ve got a room prepared for you. It’s been ready for months. Trevor’s room is down the hall from yours. He told me of your bond. I think it was a wonderful choice. Couldn’t have worked out better if I had planned it.”

  An internal smile spread through my system at my father’s snide remarks. Love was a powerful tool, and I guess I’d have to demonstrate how important it really was.

  My father led me to the side entrance of the main house. I felt like I was suddenly transported back to medieval times. It really did look like a castle with the stonework and turrets. Even the side door was monstrous.

  He swung open the door, and there I saw Trevor and Aunt Vieta standing in the kitchen talking.

  “Hello, Aunt Vieta,”

  My aunt looked over, a horrified expression spread across her face as our eyes locked. The glass she was holding slipped from her fingers, crashing to the ground while a smile spread across my lips.