Lonely Souls (9 page)

“What’s going on in that mind of yours?” he teased.

“Nothing,” I said, looking up at him. It was an accident, a complete accident, and it was too late. I wasn’t going to look at him and here I did. His sea-blue eyes locked on mine, and I felt the charge again. I didn’t dare look away. I was in control of this situation and myself. I could get a grip. His lip curled slightly.

“What do you need, Logan,” my voice far more curt than I intended.

He didn’t miss a beat.

“Only here to lend a hand.” He was full on smiling at me now. Actually, it might’ve been more like stifling a laugh.

“Something strike you funny?” I asked him, my eyebrow inadvertently rose at him. If he was going to be living here, I would need to create my boundaries right away.

“Has anyone told you that you have the most beautiful brown eyes?” And before I had time to react, he popped out of the chair and left the study, leaving my jaw on the desk.

There was no way I was going to let him get off that easy. Two could play this game. I grabbed the planner and charged after him. I was going to set him straight. Lay the ground rules, whatever they were. I heard his footsteps going up the stairs, and I darted after him. He was renting a room, and that was it.

The door to the spare bedroom was shutting, and before I knew what I was doing, I swung it wide open, only to have Logan’s blue eyes dancing with amusement. I looked around the room and saw that he had already made himself right at home. There was no suitcase lying on the floor or clothes spread everywhere. The closet had all of his clothes hanging up in it. He had books on the dresser, and my hunch was that the drawers were all filled too. He had no intention of leaving.

“Did you need something, Triss?” his voice was far too innocent, but his eyes intense.

“No. I mean I was going to tell you that I could use your help,” I uttered, so much for the ground rules.

“Yeah? No sweat,” he said, patting the bed that he sat down on. “Wanna show me what you’re thinking?”

His eyes were staring at the planner in my hand, but for some ridiculous reason I panicked and spun out of the room. I knew he meant nothing by it, but I needed to be in a place that involved a desk, not a bed.

“There’s more light in the study,” I hollered behind me as I left his room. I could sense Logan’s smile spreading across his lips.

“I’ll be right down,” he replied softly, knowing he’d won.

I didn’t understand what was wrong with me. I was fine. I’d been fine with him around, but once I voiced that I wanted him to still rent a room at the house, I had become crazy. No, I wasn’t crazy, only cautious. That’s what it was. I had far too many other characteristics that could fall in the crazy category, but this wasn’t one of them.

I went back to the study and opened the sheer, wispy curtains wide so there was no doubt it was the light I was going for in the study. I heard his footsteps upstairs still. I wasn’t sure what he was doing up there, but I was grateful that whatever it was, it bought me time.

A few minutes ticked by, and he appeared back in the study for round two. I felt much more in control and like my old self. He sat in the chair again and everything was back to normal, and I was going to keep it that way.

“I’ve been scouring over my mom’s planner for hours, and I think there are a few other things that struck me as weird.” My mouth was dry. I didn’t know if that was because of my earlier incident with Logan or because of the subject matter.

“Like what?” he ventured.

“Some things are just little oddities, and others I don’t know what to make of them. For instance, she has a question mark scribbled on the day of the Litha, which is the same day that I’m supposed to enter the coven. Next to the question mark, she has written some sort of code. I don’t know what it means. It’s just letters and numbers.”

“Huh. Can I see it?” he asked, and I shoved the planner toward him, feeling foolish for my earlier behavior, or more pointedly, my inner turmoil.

He’s not expecting anything. He’s just being helpful and once college starts, he’ll be on his way, completely distracted with new people and new activities. My stomach fell a little at that last thought, but I shoved it aside.

“What do you think?” I asked.

“I don’t know. I’ll keep thinking about it. What else you got?” He started flipping through the pages. I could see his eyes scanning the pages quickly.

“Whoa.” He stopped.

“What?” I demanded, not realizing the strength of my voice.

He flipped the book around with the page open.

“Do you know what this is?” he asked, eyes searching mine.

I didn’t. I shrugged and shook my head.

The image was a counter-clockwise spiral of sorts, circling inward. I stared blankly at him waiting for a response.

“It’s called a devil’s trap or devil’s snare. It’s generally used to protect against evil sorcery. Kind of old school but still used pretty frequently,” he said. “You really
aren’t
familiar with that side of things are you?”

Logan’s eyes changed. They were darker now, shielded. He was making a point not to look at me. Why does he do this and what is he hiding?

“Nope. Not at all. My mom didn’t want me seeing that side of life, I guess,” I whispered. “Wish I’d opened the planner up to that page in the cooler. Maybe it would have chased that thing away.”

“It’s not like if witches ignore this stuff, it goes away,” he grumbled, ignoring my statement, still thinking about the ramifications. “It’s out there, and we’re doing ourselves a disservice to not be aware.”

“You say that, but when you start talking about all this stuff, you don’t even look me in the eyes, Logan. Not sure it is such a great idea to be so keenly aware of black magic,” I replied flatly.

“Let’s stay on topic.” His voice was distant. “What about this?”

The next page looked like another sketch.

“She’s doodling flames?” I didn’t see the significance.

“Look underneath at what she printed,” he said, tapping the page.

“Anima Sola,” I read out loud.

“Lonely Soul.” He sat back in the chair, stretching just enough where his shirt raised, and I wound up scolding myself for glancing.

“How do you know what that means?” I asked.

“How do you not? As much as you and your mom talked about the Lonely Souls,” he said, puzzled, squinting at me.

There was an awkward silence. What did I really know about it?

“It depends on the faith, and they all seem to have their own version.” He seemed back to his old self. “So I don’t ramble on, why don’t you tell me your version of Lonely Souls. It might help us put everything in perspective.”

“How do you know so much about our traditions and the traditions of others? I don’t get it,” I asked.

“It has always fascinated me. Besides, I needed to keep my mind focused on things other than what I would have liked to have daydreamed about.” His eyes locked on mine, and a quiver ran through my body.

Shifting behind the desk, I looked away. Now was not the time. I wasn’t positive about what he was referring to, but if by chance it was what I was thinking, I didn’t know what I was going to do or how I was going to survive in a house with him.

“My mother always told me that I saved her from becoming a Lonely Soul. We never sat down and mapped out what all went into being a Lonely Soul,” I said, somewhat annoyed. “But what I got out of it was that there are many options in life that help shape where you end up in not only life but in death too, and possibly I helped to divert her from something.”

I’d never really tried to explain it before, but it sounded logical. Logan looked like he was debating something, and then he finally spoke.

“With what your mom was referring to, I’d say that’s a fair definition. The tradition or belief of Lonely Souls goes way deeper than that though. It can be found in almost all faiths, whether it’s Catholicism, African tradition, or Voodoo. And, of course, Wiccan traditions embrace part of that as well. It’s kind of like a purgatory where souls are trapped before they are released to either heaven or hell. It’s said to be both here on earth and in the other realm.”

“My mom always said there was nothing worse than being a Lonely Soul stuck on earth,” I muttered. “She said we all had the choice before we left this earth whether or not we’d be lost forever.”

“I think she was talking from a very personal place, Triss,” Logan said. “If someone dies while they are a lonely soul, they will be trapped as such for eternity.”

He knows something. He knows more than I do. I’m certain of it.

“Imagine being so wounded and hurt by someone or something that you built walls around your heart, and nobody could get in. You shut people out, the world out, and you basically just exist. You eat, breathe, sleep but that’s it. There’s no emotion, no love. There are no magical highs and no desperate lows to experience because the person who is a Lonely Soul has turned everything off. They just blandly exist.”

“Pretty sad existence,” I mumbled, getting uncomfortable. This was hitting home a little too much. Was I on this path?

“Now take that figure and place them in purgatory, trapped with nothingness for eternity.” His blue eyes were wider than usual, staring me down to make sure I understood. I knew he was waiting for a response, and I didn’t know what to give him for one.

“What aren’t you telling me?” I questioned him. “Can these souls be used by black magic?”

“It’s been documented.” He was nervously shoving back his dark hair with his hands.

“Have you seen them?” I was now the one searching his eyes for a response.

The temperature in the room began to drop, and I noticed the sun was making its exit.

“How are you so familiar with them?” I tried again.

I reached over to the ruby-colored stained glass lamp and tugged on the brass chain, illuminating our little corner of the study. I noticed the light that bounced off Logan’s normally brilliant eyes did nothing to brighten them. He was staring at the desk where the planner was laid out, making a point not to look at me.

“You’re pretty persistent, and all I can do is be blunt in my response, I suppose. The truth of the matter is that I don’t feel like discussing it now, if ever. There was a time in my life that was a little too dark for my own good. It lasted for a couple of years after my father’s death. It’s not something I’m proud of and would rather forget, but that’s not happening with you around.” His eyes met mine and they were filled with sadness.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pressed,” I whispered, releasing my eyes from his. It’s so difficult being around him. He seemed so knowledgeable. It’s hard to remember that we were the same age even.

“We’ve all got our demons, I guess,” I looked over at him, trying to smile.

“Triss, it’s hard for me to imagine that you have any at all,” he said, chuckling. The light in his eyes made a brief reappearance, and relief flooded me.

A few minutes of quietness filled the space between us, and this time it was welcome. My body relaxed in the chair as I tried to absorb what my mom might have been trying to tell me.

“I know you don’t want to participate in the ceremony for your entry into the coven, but something’s telling me you should. If there are coven members with the wrong intentions, I think it will only hurt us if we aren’t able to tap into them.” Logan’s brow furrowed. “If you excommunicate yourself, there’s no way we’ll be able to find out what’s going on.”

A groan escaped. Where’d that come from? There were so many reasons why I didn’t want to participate in this ceremony. One of the main ones was that it’s supposed to be a happy time, and I was feeling anything but happy. Another one was that I’m not sure I wanted to join a coven that no longer held my best interests. Nevertheless, Logan had a point. If even a glimmer of hope existed that someone in the coven might have information, the moment I dismiss the coven would be the moment I dismiss any potential sources.

“I know you’re right, but it’s nothing I want to do.” I let out a huge sigh. “Something seems really off. The Witch Avenue Order is usually so festive and welcoming. Since my mother’s disappearance, it’s been full of stares, whispers, and judgment. Maybe I just need to get over myself. ”

“I’m only saying that I don’t think we should cut off any options right now. We’ll be cautious.” He got up from the chair. “Do you want something to drink? I’m gonna grab some water.”

“Water’s fine.”

I spun around in the chair, staring out the window into the darkness that had fallen outside. Celebrating Litha was nothing that I wanted to do and going through the ceremony to enter the Witch Avenue order was definitely not a priority, but Logan was right. If there was more of a connection tied to black magic, there was a high possibility someone in our coven might have played a part in it. I hoped that wasn’t the case, but I probably shouldn’t shut down that possibility.

Logan came back in with some water for us both, and I scooted back to the desk feeling pretty empty. I would need to start pumping myself up to get ready for the ceremony. Logan sat back down.

“Triss, you’re going through so much, and you won’t let it out. It’s okay to cry,” he whispered, his gaze catching me off guard.

“I won’t cry. If I cry, it’s like I’m giving up on the idea of my mom being alive,” I stated, looking directly into his eyes as coolly as I could.

“You do shed tears. I felt the dampness through my shirt when we were in the park,” he uttered, his eyes searching mine for confirmation. “Don’t do this to yourself, Triss. You can’t hold everything in. It’s not healthy. I saw you putting on a brave face for Jenny and Angela, not one tear shed. Don’t go down that path. It’s hard to return from.”

I could feel my throat constricting, and there was nothing I could do stop it. I spun the chair to look out the window. I knew he’d felt loss. His father passed away several years ago. I kicked myself for not returning Logan’s letters all those years, yet he continually wrote. I’m not worthy of this kind of devotion.

“Why?” was the only word that I could choke out.

“Why what?” Logan asked.