Bleeding Misery (Threatening Souls Book 2)

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Bleeding Misery (Threatening Souls Book 2) Page 29

by N. M. Lambert


  Holly was the only official participant who was allowed outside of her room after curfew, since she was also the only participant who was not human. By far, she was the youngest one at the celebration, and she clung to Andre like glue as she marveled at how many magic users were there, for not only were the Royal Coven and the chaperones there, but there were plenty other visiting magic users, including the Royal Guard.

  Not surprisingly, Arizona stayed far away from them, occasionally shooting glares their way. Like with everything else, news of Andre and Arizona’s clash became widely known, along with the deaths of Holly’s parents and the gruesome package that was sent to her. In fact, most people there gave them a wide berth, and Andre’s violent reputation was enforced.

  “People are staring,” Holly said solemnly with just a hint of sorrow in her voice. Andre knew Holly was still trying to process seeing her dead parents’ corpses, and after the initial shock of the situation wore off, Holly began to fall into a state of numbness. And Andre was still angry at Arizona and Henri and Kat, though she was surprised to find she felt little in terms of the death. Kiki and Stan White were not the first corpses she’d seen, nor would they be the last. And she had witnessed the killing blow of Derek Thomas, a human she had fallen for whom Kat and her brother, Jerauld, mercilessly killed, and Hermione Rose, who died at the hands of Henri.

  As the stares increased, Andre nodded to each one, refusing to let them faze her. Kat’s eyes especially seemed to linger longer on Andre than anyone else, and a wicked smile played on her lips. Andre tensed.

  “Well, if it isn’t the talk of the party!” someone said from behind.

  Andre and Holly slowly spun around, coming face-to-face with Reilly Sims. Beside him stood Aaron Hansen, and both of them looked oddly amused.

  “Save it, Reilly,” Andre huffed. “I’m not in the mood.”

  In that moment, Andre couldn’t tell if Reilly was extremely brave or extremely stupid, because he took a daring step towards her, still wearing his stupid smile. “Though in all honesty, Arizona probably had it coming.”

  Andre clenched her hands into fists. “Back. Off.”

  “Reilly,” Aaron warned, “now isn’t the time.”

  Reilly’s smile instantly vanished. “Right. Sorry.” He turned to Holly, who met his gaze defiantly. “How are you holding up?”

  “Her parents were just murdered, Reilly!” Andre scoffed. “How do you think she’s holding up?”

  “Ah, yes. Sorry again. I…uh…” Reilly paused, glancing between the two of them. And then, he asked something Andre didn’t expect him to ask. “How’s Rebekah?”

  “Scared,” Andre snipped.

  “Speaking of which, have you talked to her about the, uh…situation yet?” Reilly prodded. “About, you know…her cousin?”

  Beside Andre, Holly froze. “Now isn’t the time,” Andre said.

  “Right, well…Paige is fine.”

  Andre chuckled dryly. “Something tells me you didn’t come here to talk about Rebekah and Paige.”

  Reilly opened his mouth as if to rebut but then instantly closed it and sighed. “No, I didn’t.” Briefly, he glanced at Aaron for support, but Aaron remained just as stoic as ever.

  Andre waited for him to continue, but when it became evident he wouldn’t, she said, “Then, what?”

  Reilly fumbled nervously with his hands. “I just wanted to ask how you are.”

  “You know how I am.”

  Beside her, Holly hissed, “Andre!” But she ignored it. She wasn’t in the mood for games.

  “Right. I, um…sorry.” Reilly took a step back. “It was nice to see you again, and give Rebekah my regards?” And then, he bolted out of there within the blink of an eye with Aaron on his heels.

  Holly slapped Andre on the arm, who in turn whirled around and stared daggers at her cousin. “What?” she snapped.

  Holly just shook her head. “You were so rude!” Defiantly, she met Andre’s stare. “That boy clearly wanted to ask you something, and you didn’t even give him the time of day!”

  Holly calling Reilly “that boy” softened Andre’s mood just a fraction. “No, he didn’t,” she stated firmly.

  Holly scoffed. “You had him sweating bullets.”

  “It doesn’t matter anyway,” Andre said coldly. “I don’t trust him.” But then, she realized a second too late, that wasn’t entirely true.

  “Well, maybe you should,” said Holly equally as coldly. “After all, what? You strive to be in the same group as him, and you have the same mentor! You trust Aaron, right?”

  “Of course, but—”

  “No!” Holly shouted. And then, she started to laugh hysterically.

  Andre quizzically raised an eyebrow. “What’s so funny?”

  “I’m not the only one with issues,” Holly said in between laughs. “Learn to live! Not everything has to be so goddamn tense all the time!”

  Andre closed her eyes and sighed before opening them again. “I can’t relax. Not until you all are safe.”

  “And maybe that’s the problem,” Holly said. “Not everyone has weird ulterior motives, and did it ever occur to you that maybe Reilly likes you?”

  “He and I barely know each other,” Andre said, writing Holly off.

  But Holly wasn’t having it anymore. “You know, you can be really stubborn at times,” she said.

  And for the rest of the party, those words haunted Andre, following her around like a swarm of gnats.

  ~~~

  On the twenty-ninth of December, Andre left the room early with Courtney and headed to the stadium. Today was the art portion of the ICW and was the first portion the chaperones were required to judge, which she wasn’t looking forward to. Andre could barely concentrate on anything since Christmas, let alone judge measly novice art pieces.

  Much to her surprise, Courtney remained cordial to her despite what she did to Arizona. Even though Courtney knew what had happened, she didn’t mention it, and neither did Andre. It was strange to think Courtney was slowly becoming a friend to her when in London, Courtney made it abundantly clear she thought little of Andre.

  “I can’t believe we’ve been reduced to judging a human competition,” Courtney complained on the way to the stadium. “It’s a complete waste of our skills!”

  Andre didn’t reply, though she had to agree. She came to the ICW to protect Holly and her friends, not to judge human creations.

  “I mean, I guess it makes sense. We have to blend in and all that, but still…” Courtney sighed.

  “We’ll be tested soon enough,” Andre said monotonously.

  Courtney scoffed. “How? The Bewitched haven’t attacked anyone in days!”

  At this, Andre stopped suddenly and turned to face Courtney. “Count that as a blessing.” Then, she resumed her walk.

  Afterwards, the two of them fell into a weird, comfortable silence as they reached the stadium. The other chaperones were already there, and soon, Jeffery came barreling through the door with Valencia Diaz and Anu Saar hot on his tail. Within moments, more clique participants arrived—Mari Nakamura, Mishka Petrova, Dominique François, Mindy Costa, and Elisabeth Bauer. Not surprisingly, Sam was the last one to stagger in, though what did surprise Andre was the alarming look of nervousness on Sam’s face.

  Then, Jeffery asserted himself in front of the group and began explaining the rules. Yet, Andre’s focus wasn’t on that. Instead, she got a brief look at one of his hands before he consciously hid it from view again. One of his fingers was missing, and at first, Andre suspected Jeffery had a brush with one of the Bewitched. Yet, she quickly realized, that made no sense. If Jeffery had encountered them, he would have had more than a missing finger to show for it.

  And then, she thought back to the very beginning of the competition, to their time in London. Jeffery did a very good job of hiding his hand there too, and again in the cafeteria for their first meal, at the Yule celebration, and every single time he explained the rules of each portion to the p
articipants. And though Andre didn’t think much of it at the time, she now knew why. “Jeffery’s missing a finger,” she said silently to Courtney.

  Courtney looked at her oddly. “What do you mean?”

  “Pay attention to his hands,” Andre replied.

  Before Courtney could say anything else, Jeffery concluded his speech and began leading the participants to their tables. The chaperones, on the other hand, went up the stairs and resumed their usual positions next to Jason and Annabelle, and the mortal king began to introduce the art portion.

  Courtney suddenly sucked in a breath, and Andre turned towards her, alarmed. Yet, the mortal witch’s eyes were not on Andre but were instead on Jeffery, who was still down in the stadium.

  “That’s not a wound from the Bewitched, is it?” Courtney said, her voice nearly drowned out from the cheering crowd.

  “No,” Andre reaffirmed, “it’s not.”

  “But how…” Anything Courtney was about to say died on her lips as realization set in, and Andre knew what she was thinking a beat before she said it. “Henri. But cutting off fingers isn’t his style.”

  Andre gave Courtney a dark look. “He cut Holly’s parents into little, tiny pieces! He doesn’t have a set style!”

  “Yeah but…” And then, a thought entered Courtney’s mind. “Oh, god!”

  “What?” Andre prodded.

  “Henri willingly let Jeffery go. Jeffery wasn’t rescued by Kat!”

  “We know that already. But why?” Andre questioned until she remembered what Ava said about there being a third person on the inside. “Oh no.”

  “What?” Courtney said.

  “Jeffery’s the third person,” Andre stated flatly, but when Courtney still gave her a blank stare, she elaborated. “Mandy and Kat were both spies for Henri. What if Jeffery is too?”

  Courtney immediately shook her head. “Jeffery wouldn’t betray us like that.”

  “No, but—” Before Andre could finish, the excitement of the crowd died down, and the competition began. Jeffery was no longer in sight.

  ~~~

  Rebekah: Munich, Germany

  “Rebekah,” Sara squealed as she dangled a circular object from her hand.

  “Why are you here so early?” Rebekah questioned, unable to take her eyes off what Sara was holding. Usually, she didn’t see anyone other than her family that early until school started.

  “The Master knows,” Sara said. “He knows it’s your birthday today, and He…wanted me to present you with this.” She held out the circular item for Rebekah to take.

  The Master? Rebekah felt confused as to how the Master knew about her birthday and why He would present her with a gift. Hesitantly, she took the gift from Sara’s outstretched hands, examining it. It appeared to be a metal bracelet—cold and thick, and she shot a questioning glance at Sara.

  “You should feel lucky,” Sara continued. “The Master hardly gives the rest of us anything.”

  Rebekah slowly slipped the bracelet over her wrist, feeling the cold metal seep into her skin. Then, she felt it latch onto her flesh as goose bumps ran up both of her arms. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t yank it off, and her skin turned red from the unsuccessful attempts. She looked at Sara and Nancy again with even more questions brewing in her mind. “What is this?”

  “I’m glad you like it,” said Sara, seeming to not register Rebekah’s confused expression. “The Master’s gifts are…rather unique. They become a part of you.”

  Rebekah screamed and screamed when she woke up to the sound of the TV in the living room. As another Roseway-induced flashback came to an end, she could barely hear what appeared to be the art portion of the ICW.

  The door to the bedroom slammed open, and in walked Holly, who closed it behind her. “Are you all right?” she questioned. “I heard screaming.”

  “I’m fine,” Rebekah said, catching her breath. “I just had another flashback.” She knew exactly what caused such a flashback, too. Her birthday was today, meaning that event happened exactly a year ago.

  Her head was pounding, like it did every single year with a massive headache. The only difference between this year and the years past was that she knew why it was reoccurring.

  Her Other Part was probably already seeing through her eyes.

  Concerned, Holly moved farther into the room. “Let me see your eyes,” she commanded.

  Rebekah complied and gazed into Holly’s eyes.

  “It’s doesn’t look like Sierra is in your mind yet,” said Holly. “If she was, your pupils would be slightly larger than usual.”

  “But she will be in there later on,” said Rebekah. “When will that be?”

  “I don’t know,” Holly admitted. “She can’t control it, though. It just happens.”

  Rebekah sighed heavily, wishing there was some way to predict when Sierra would be seeing things through her eyes. “How’s the competition coming along?” she wondered in an attempt to change the subject.

  “In Jamie’s eyes, Sam’s not doing well enough,” said Holly as if this was new behavior. “To put it in perspective, Julie’s clique scored a nine.”

  “And what about ours?”

  Holly shrugged. “They—the chaperones and Jason—haven’t scored us yet.”

  “Then, how could Jamie possibly make the judgment that Sam isn’t doing well enough?” Rebekah scoffed.

  “Because she’s Jamie,” Holly said. “That’s what she does.”

  Rebekah’s head continued to pound, and the loud sounds from the TV only added to her pain. “I’m leaving,” she declared as she made her way to the front of the room.

  “Where are you going?” questioned Holly.

  “I don’t know,” said Rebekah. “Someplace quiet.”

  “Let me come with you.”

  “No, I want to be alone.”

  Rebekah watched Holly stop advancing towards her, and she quickly ducked out of the room before she changed her mind. A part of her did want to be alone, but another part wouldn’t have minded Holly’s company. After all, she knew what it felt like to be alone in the same room with Jamie’s official clique members. She had to temporarily endure that torture during the trivia portion when Holly was out.

  She truly didn’t know where she was going until she found herself in the ICW courtyard. As grass replaced the stone flooring, she found a wooden bench that she quickly took a seat on. Since everyone else was probably either at or watching the art portion of the ICW, the courtyard was deserted.

  Which made it eerily quiet.

  Rebekah swung her legs around the bench so that she could lie supine and rest her head on the cold wood.

  She couldn’t remember a time when she didn’t have a massive headache on her birthday. Up until two years ago, she’d ignored it, since the good things that occurred on her birthday outweighed the bad. That was before she knew what she was and that she had an Other Part. With this newfound knowledge, she began to detest her birthday and the idea of an immortal magic user being able to see through her eyes. The price for such knowledge was the intensity of her headache, something she was unable to cure with a normal dose of aspirin.

  For what seemed like minutes, she stayed in that position before hearing the sound of crunching grass. Startled, Rebekah sat up, wondering who would be wandering around the courtyard when the competition was still going on.

  It was Jeffery.

  Rebekah felt even more confused than before, since Jeffery especially should be at that competition. After all, his father was the host.

  Confusion was also evident in his expression as he approached her—and she stood up, abandoning her spot on the bench and temporarily forgetting about her headache and her Other Part.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked her. “One would think you’d be watching the competition with your clique.”

  “The TV was too loud,” Rebekah explained. “I could ask you the same question. Why aren’t you at the competition?”

  “As mu
ch as I like seeing you around, I’m not the biggest fan of my father’s decision to host this event.” Jeffery paused briefly. “I especially am not the biggest fan of one of the members of your clique.”

  “You mean Teri?”

  Jeffery nodded.

  “Don’t think too much of her,” said Rebekah.

  Jeffery stared at her for a few seconds in silence before saying, “Your pupils are dilated.”

  “They are?” Rebekah asked out of fear.

  “Is it, by any chance, your birthday today?”

  Rebekah nodded slowly.

  Jeffery took both of her hands as he continued to stare into her eyes. “And I’m assuming you have a headache, which is why you didn’t want to be around a loud TV.”

  “Yeah,” said Rebekah. “My Other Part’s in there, isn’t she?”

  Jeffery nodded but didn’t say anything.

  “How do I—”

  “Quiet,” Jeffery commanded as he continued to stare into her eyes. Then, she began to feel the pain of her headache lessen as he infused his magic into her, and soon, she felt normal.

  “What did you do?” she questioned.

  “Your pupils are no longer dilated,” said Jeffery.

  “I didn’t think you could force her out of me. I mean, no one told me that was possible.”

  “Most magic users frown on doing so, for forcing your Other Part out of your head is unnatural and, if done incorrectly, could lead to some lasting damage.”

  “Then, how did you do it correctly?”

  Jeffery smiled a little. “I’ve had to do similar things in the past.”

  “Why did you force her out of my head?”

  “So she can’t see me do this,” Jeffery replied as he pulled her into him and pressed his lips onto hers.

  And for a while, she lost herself in his kiss, in the way he clutched her close as their lips danced together. But like all good things, she soon felt a sudden panic overtake her.

  Before she realized what she was doing, Rebekah shoved Jeffery away from her, and she began breathing heavily. For a moment, all she saw was Jake again, the possessed one, as his hands latched onto her and wouldn’t let go. And she knew she shouldn’t be seeing Jake, since he wasn’t here, but the image wouldn’t go away, and she—

 

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