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Bleeding Misery (Threatening Souls Book 2)

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by N. M. Lambert




  BLEEDING

  MISERY

  BOOK TWO

  #1 AMAZON KINDLE BESTSELLING AUTHOR

  N. M. LAMBERT

  Green Tree Press Edition, 2021

  BLEEDING MISERY

  Text copyright © 2021 by Nicole Lambert

  Cover and interior design © 2021 by Nicole Lambert

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  Green Tree Press, LLC

  522 N. Central Ave #831 SMB #11019

  Phoenix, AZ 85004

  www.greentreepublications.com

  Published in the United States of America

  ASIN: B094SKG913

  BOOKS BY N. M. LAMBERT

  THE THREATENING SOULS SERIES

  THREATENING SOULS (BOOK ONE)

  BLEEDING MISERY (BOOK TWO)

  To those who continue to support me, and to those who have read my first novel.

  A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

  Please note this book depicts sensitive topics such as mention of attempted rape, gore, violence, anxiety and panic attacks, self-harm and attempted suicide, and emotional abuse. I have tried my best to approach these potential triggers with sensitivity, but if you feel any of these topics may be triggering, please be aware.

  PROLOGUE

  Henri: Greenwich, England

  J

  effery Speirs still had a mind of his own, albeit a mind that was imprisoned. Every time he tried to resist a command, Henri saw the pain written clearly on his face. It brought the immortal warlock pleasure to see the mortal prince in so much pain as he betrayed mortal secret after mortal secret.

  Today, Henri sat across from Jeffery in his own chamber, a variety of weapons and spell books laid out on the small table between them. Henri watched Jeffery silently, who sunk in his seat under the immortal warlock’s scrutiny, his head down. “You mentioned something about a Foreseer,” he began, breaking the silence.

  Jeffery nodded. His scarred hands rested in his lap, a result of Henri forcing him to hurt and heal himself over and over again.

  Henri leaned across the table. “Who is she?”

  With a start, Jeffery raised his head, and there was sadness in his eyes. Once again, his mouth betrayed him. “Amanda Palmer.” He paused. “She wasn’t directly involved, but she’s…friends with those who were.”

  Henri picked up a serrated knife and began studying the blade. “And this Foreseer lives in Marywood?”

  Jeffery nodded. “What are you going to do to her?” he asked, a question Henri knew came from the true Jeffery and not the enthralled shell he created.

  Henri stilled before extending the knife hilt-first towards Jeffery. “I believe that’s none of your concern.”

  Jeffery took the knife. “It’s none of my concern,” he repeated robotically.

  “You are here to obey me, not ask questions.” And then, as if to prove a point, Henri added, “Cut off your finger. I’ll let you pick which one to lose.”

  Jeffery’s eyes widened as his arms trembled to obey the command. “Please! Stop this!” he hissed through gritted teeth as he placed the knife against his left pinky. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and he let out a cry of anguish as the blade started to cut through his flesh.

  Henri watched the blood well up. He watched as Jeffery cut through muscle and tendon and bone. Blood sprayed onto the table as Jeffery let out a yowl.

  With one final cut, the finger was severed, and Jeffery dropped the knife, hugging his bleeding hand to his chest. Henri picked up the finger and examined it. “The next time you ask an unnecessary question, you will lose more than just a finger,” he said as he chucked the finger off the table. It landed with a thud onto the floor.

  “Y-yes, master,” Jeffery stammered as he pressed the stub against his shirt in order to stop the bleeding. He glanced down and started mumbling under his breath.

  Henri recognized the sign of a spell, and he said, “Stop.”

  Jeffery stopped mumbling, grimacing.

  In Henri’s hand appeared a roll of gauze, and he offered it to Jeffery while adding, “You are not to heal yourself with magic.”

  Jeffery hesitantly accepted the gauze and bandaged his hand.

  Satisfied, Henri leaned back in his seat. A holographic orb appeared across from him, and with one flick of a finger, he sent it striding towards him until it stopped directly in front of him. “Perhaps we should have some fun,” he said to Jeffery before turning his attention to the orb. “Show me the witch Holly White.”

  As if on cue, the orb shimmered before stretching out to reveal a restaurant. Holly was the main focus of the scene, and she was laughing. A slice of cake was placed in front of her, and she looked happy.

  Henri grunted but didn’t stop the scene. Jeffery just watched in horror. Occasionally, someone else would temporarily come into frame, and he instantly recognized Rebekah Jensen and Andre Robinson. Someone else also sometimes came into frame, someone Henri didn’t recognize, and with a wave of his hand, he paused the scene and zoomed in on the unfamiliar face.

  “Name,” Henri stated, and text appeared at the bottom: AMANDA PALMER. He smiled. “So, this is the Foreseer.”

  Jeffery glanced at Henri. “Her name is Amanda Palmer,” he said robotically.

  Henri grunted again in annoyance. He hadn’t addressed the mortal prince at all, and yet his spell made Jeffery answer anyway. “Very good, Jeffery,” he said semi-sarcastically before concentrating his gaze on the girl. And then, he began his spell:

  “She can see the future, I know.

  Now, her visions will not show.

  She will not be surprised

  Of ourselves and our rise.

  Elle peut voir l'avenir, je sais.

  Maintenant ses visions ne montreront pas.

  Elle ne sera pas surprise

  De nous-mêmes et de notre ascension.”

  Once finished, he sent the orb away, and his gaze settled on Jeffery. “Return to your cell,” he commanded. “When the time comes, I will contact the Foreseer and bewitch her to our side.”

  And Jeffery, forced to obey every command the immortal warlock chose to give him, returned on robotic limbs to the muck and grime that encompassed his cell.

  CHAPTER

  ONE

  Rebekah: Marywood, Florida

  “H

  appy birthday!” Rebekah and Mandy chorused after the waitress finished her song and a heaping slice of vanilla cake was placed in front of Holly. The mortal witch gazed at the cake slice for the longest of time before setting her eyes on her two best friends—and for a moment, Rebekah was sure tears glistened in her eyes.

  “I don’t know what to say,” Holly said as soon as the waitress left their table. She laughed. “Except, well, thanks?” She broke off a piece of cake with her fork and brought it to her mouth.

  Across the table sat Holly’s cousin, Andre, who watched the three of them with a curious gaze. In lieu of an adult figure present, she acted as their chaperone, but except for a few carefully chosen words, she remained silent. By now, Rebekah was used to Andre’s reserved nature, having bonded with the witch during the last few months of her stay in Roseway, but she could tell Mandy was more uncomfortable in Andre’s presence. After all, Mandy�
�s first interaction with her involved a lot of shouting and a hang-up. Andre since then apologized for her behavior, but Mandy was still wary around her, and rightfully so.

  Holly swallowed bite after bite of cake, and Rebekah wondered how the witch was able to breathe. “Slow down!” She chuckled, reaching out to lower Holly’s fork-filled hand.

  Holly glanced once at Rebekah and then eyed the fork, and an embarrassed blush coated her cheeks. “I’m sorry,” she said, stabbing another piece of cake. “It’s so good though!”

  Rebekah laughed harder. “You’re gonna make yourself sick!”

  Holly took one more bite and chewed slowly, mulling over Rebekah’s words. “You guys didn’t have to do this,” she said cheerfully. “My birthday was three days ago.”

  Rebekah stilled but kept the smile plastered on her face. Holly’s birthday was on Halloween, and it also happened to be the same day she and Andre freed Roseway from the grasp of a powerful and devious immortal warlock. It was also the day Rebekah almost died, when her true soul—a spirit named Rebecca Johnson, whose eerily similar name still sent chills down Rebekah’s spine—nearly took over her body.

  Mandy barked out a laugh, interrupting Rebekah’s train of thought. “I don’t think getting knocked around by Henri Anderson counts as a birthday celebration.”

  “I didn’t get knocked around! At least not totally! And I scared him off!” Holly argued, her face red. She glanced at her cousin. “Tell them, Andre!”

  An amused glint flickered in Andre’s gaze, and she leaned forward. “Yes, my own adolescent cousin scared off the most powerful and infamous immortal warlock of our time.”

  Holly rolled her eyes at Andre’s sarcasm. “You’re just jealous he left because of me and not you.”

  “He left of his own volition. He didn’t need Roseway anymore.”

  “He still left because of me!”

  “Guys!” Rebekah yelled and then shuddered at the loudness of her voice. Both of the witches turned their gazes on her, and she flinched under their scrutiny.

  A few moments of awkward silence passed.

  “Presents?” Mandy said timidly. She reached under her seat and pulled out a huge gift bag.

  Rebekah’s eyes widened, though not at the size of the gift bag. She hadn’t gotten Holly anything, between her near-death experience and the move back to Marywood. She glanced at Andre, and it seemed as though Andre didn’t get Holly anything either. The witch’s expression was carefully constructed, betraying nothing.

  “Err, present,” Mandy amended, her gaze dropping to her lap.

  Rebekah choked. Holly stared at Mandy as if she were some sort of angel.

  “Aw, you didn’t have to get me anything,” Holly said in a cheerful tone that seemed almost forced. She reached for the gift bag and pulled it towards her. “Thank you, though!”

  Mandy shrugged. “It’s nothing.”

  “This is more than—” Holly’s words got cut off as she peered into the bag, pushing the tissue paper to the side. Shock was plastered on her face. “Oh my god!”

  With quick reflexes, Andre slid out of her seat and dashed to Holly’s side as if preparing for a fight. Rebekah just sat there, stone-faced, as she tried to read Holly.

  “This is…” Holly’s voice broke again as tears brewed in her eyes. Whether they were happy or sad tears, Rebekah couldn’t tell, though when Andre peered over Holly’s shoulder into the bag and visibly relaxed, Rebekah guessed it was the former.

  “I thought you would like something other than those dresses you always wear,” Mandy said softly, seeming to also have a problem reading Holly’s body language.

  “What is it?” Rebekah asked, scooting closer to where Holly and the bag were.

  It was Andre who answered, stone-faced. “Clothes.”

  “Lots and lots of clothes,” Holly elaborated, turning to Mandy. “This must have cost you a fortune!”

  Mandy shook her head. “Most of those were things I had that I would never wear again, and I figured instead of throwing them away…”

  “I don’t know what to say,” Holly said, holding up and examining a pair of dark blue skinny jeans.

  “I think ‘thank you’ would be a good place to start,” Andre supplied, but it was evident Holly wasn’t listening to her. She didn’t seem aware of anything aside from the bag of clothes in front of her.

  And then, she threw down the jeans and launched herself at Mandy. The two of them tumbled to the floor as Mandy’s chair crashed beside them, earning various stares from other tables.

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Holly gushed, clutching Mandy tightly.

  Mandy awkwardly patted Holly on the back, her eyes flickering between Rebekah and Andre.

  “Holly,” Andre said sternly.

  Holly untangled her arms from around Mandy and sat up abruptly. “Sorry,” she said, blushing in embarrassment.

  Andre helped Holly to her feet, and Rebekah did the same with Mandy. Wordlessly, the four of them went to regain their seats.

  “I’m sorry,” Rebekah said, sliding into her chair. “I would have gotten you something, but—”

  “Rebekah, you almost died!” Holly said fervently.

  Rebekah flinched. “I failed,” she said softly more to herself than to Holly. This time, she didn’t mean the lack-of present for Holly. She had failed Ava. She didn’t destroy Roseway’s fuel source. Instead, she allowed herself to become temporarily possessed while Holly and Andre were left to clean up the mess.

  Silence permeated the air.

  “You shouldn’t have been put in that position to begin with,” Andre snarled. “William especially shouldn’t have allowed it.”

  Rebekah knew the previous mortal king was William Cavanaugh, but aside from his name and how he and his spouse were killed by Henri, she knew nothing else. Yet from the way Andre mentioned him, she sensed a hint of bitterness.

  “William said he would have helped me if he could,” said Holly.

  “Bullshit,” Andre said. “He wouldn’t have cared if Henri killed you.”

  “He sent that knife to Rebekah through Jamie, the one you wielded,” Holly pointed out.

  Andre shut her eyes tightly and settled her breathing, and Rebekah couldn’t help but wonder if there was more Andre wasn’t telling them.

  “I’ll get you something as soon as I can,” Rebekah told Holly, partly to change the conversation and partly to show Holly she still cared.

  “You don’t have to do that,” Holly said.

  “I want to,” Rebekah said stubbornly and then smiled. “Don’t even try to stop me!”

  Holly fake-gasped. “I think she just threatened me!”

  Rebekah’s smile grew wider. “Happy birthday, Holly!” she said again, louder this time. Her smile turned into a sadistic smirk. “I won’t take no for an answer.”

  ~~~

  That night, Rebekah was drowning.

  The walls of the house at the end of the street started to collapse as more blood seeped through the crevices. Swimming in the pools of the murky depths were decaying bodies of the past victims, eyes full of sorrow and mouths agape. Everywhere she swam, her hands brushed over cold limbs, making it impossible for her to stay afloat. Merciless waves of blood washed over her and forced her to sink downward.

  Her burning lungs forced her to inhale, and she began to choke on the blood as gallons of the liquid rushed down her throat, seeming relentless. Yet, she found herself unable to mutter a single scream. Unconsciousness began to take over, and she slowly sunk deeper into a never-ending coma…

  The sound of an alarm went off, pulling her out of her dream and back into reality. Quickly, she breathed a heavy sigh of relief as another Roseway-induced nightmare had passed. Checking the date on her digital alarm clock, she realized it was the fourth of November, and just last week, she was battling the suburb.

  Because of the move to Roseway, the house in Marywood they had previously owned was sold to another family. On such short notice, i
t was impossible to buy another house, so they had to settle on a shabby, two-bedroom apartment, of which Rebekah and her two brothers took up the supposed master bedroom, and her parents settled on the smaller of the two bedrooms. This was simply because, since there were three of them, they needed more space.

  Both of her brothers’ beds were empty, since they were already up before her and eager to get started on their senior year of high school. She, on the other hand, was returning to her previous school for eighth grade, and slowly, she left her bed, throwing a random outfit together—one that was purchased a couple of days ago, since all of her previous belongings in Roseway were unable to be retrieved.

  After taking a quick shower, she threw on a pair of jeans and a plain black t-shirt before moving to where the small apartment merged into the living and dining room. Glancing around quickly, she saw no sign of any of her brothers; however, both of her parents were in the kitchen, quietly chatting before they had to go to work. She silently approached them, catching pieces of their conversation.

  “I can’t believe we were evicted,” her mother, Katie, said in a rather innocent tone—a different one than what she had in Roseway. “I was certain we paid our loan on time.”

  “Perhaps we missed something,” came the abrupt voice of her father, Paul, “but it’s odd how the bank decided to evict us without giving us prior warning.”

  Rebekah listened carefully to her parents’ hushed conversation. She was one of the only ones who retained memories of Roseway. The others had lost them when they became possessed, and in order to cover up the supernatural elements and the sudden memory loss, false memories were implanted for that time period, ones that were created by Holly and Andre. Even those in Marywood that weren’t directly involved in Roseway were wiped of the memory of the Jensens moving, something that was instated as extra precaution.

 

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