The Evanescence (Fallen Soul Series) (22 page)

 “Enough time’s been wasted since you’ve come here,” he says simply. “You’ve been moping around, doing nothing, and it’s time for you to fulfill your debt to me, or at least, start it.”

Before I have time to say anything he snaps his fingers. One of the shelves on the wall shifts to the side and reveals a hidden doorway.  The Banshee emerges and she’s not alone. Out of the thousands of people that could have walked out of a hidden door, it had to be this one.

“Stasha?” I gape at her with my jaw hanging open.

Her blonde hair is a tangled mess, her hands are covered with gloves, her dress is ripped at the bottom, and a strip of duct tape covers her mouth. 

“I’m guessing there’s no need for introductions,” the Banshee says as she shoves Stasha towards the wall. Stasha trips over her feet and her shoulder slams into one of the shelves, causing books to fall to the floor.

“Why is she here?” I ask. “You know I don’t care about her, right?”

Stasha starts to cry and I feel like kind of a douche, but then I remember how she tried to kill Gemma and I really stop caring.

“I’ve been doing some research.” Draven nods at the book on his desk. “With some trial and error I’ve found a way to… How shall I put this?” he taps his chin thoughtfully. “Create my own Lost Souls.”

“Create?” I cock an eyebrow. “Huh?”

“A Lost Soul is created when someone has a death before their time,” he explained with an amused expression “They become lost and are easily manipulated.”

I consider what he’s saying and cringe. “So you’re telling me that you’re killing people in order to create Lost Souls?”

“Yes, well, it’s a bit more complicated and complex than that,” he says, leaning back in his chair and swiveling it from side-to-side. “If I were to just kill them they’d cross over to Helena—not me. And that’s not what
we
want.”

“We?” I question. “You mean, you?”

He shakes his head. “Nope, it’s you and I now. You’re going to want this eventually, just wait and see. You’ll get there.”

“You can’t just go around killing random people,” I say, knowing he can. “Just so you can add more Lost Souls to the world.”

He gets to his feet and walks over to Stasha, sketching his finger along her glove-covered hand, looking at her with his hungry, needy, soulless eyes and it’s creepy because, for a second, I feel the hungry, soulless, creepiness. “Don’t worry, Alex.” His eyes glint as he smells Stasha’s hair and grins when she trembles. “The people I choose are very special. They have extraordinary gifts, like your friend Stasha.”

Stasha cringes away from him.

I’m torn between letting him hurt her and stopping him from taking a soul and obviously getting what he wants. “Leave her alone,” I say.

“It doesn’t really sound like you mean it,” he says, sweeping Stasha’s hair to the side as he walks behind her. “In fact, I think you’re kind of glad I’m going to do it. In fact, maybe you’d like to take her soul yourself.

Shaking my head, I get to my feet. “I said, let her go.”

His dark eyes pierce into me. “Don’t ever defy me.” And just like that I drop helplessly to the floor, like a stiff board, my arms to my sides, my knees locked. “You’re forgetting your place with me,” he tells me, and I feel something inside my skull explode.

Seconds later, I feel sedated and my mouth moves on its own. “You’re right. I was totally out of line.”

“Much better.” Draven turns back to Stasha. “Let’s add another soldier to our army.”

“Gladly.” The Banshee
smiles and struts up to him, handing him a knife. It has an ash-black handle and is embellished with fancy gold lettering. Draven holds the knife up in the air and then aims the sharp tip towards Stasha. I want to move, yet, I don’t want to. I’m conflicted. Let it happen. Don’t let it happen.

I end up watching as Draven plunges the knife into Stasha’s chest and her body goes limp, slipping to the floor. At first I’m pissed, but something changes inside of me, as if a light has been switched off and, then, all I feel is numbness.

Draven glances over at me with a satisfied expression on his face and, seconds later, I regain control of my body. Rolling to my stomach, I push myself up and walk over next to him. As I stare down at Stasha, lying on the ground, with her eyes open and her arms sprawled to the side of her, a grin spreads across my face. I’m ready to repay my debt. Ready to start my training.

I’m ready to be the next Lord of the Afterlife.

Aislin wasn’t lying when she told me there was no way to escape except for walking out. Not only are we blocked from using our powers, but the entrance to the tunnel is also protected by some shield that we can’t get through.

There’s a small cottage located just behind the tree that Aislin and Aleesa have been sleeping in. Other than that, there’s a bunch of rocks, the sky, and the ground, which pretty much makes the pendant useless, until a Faerie comes along. The first day I spend here, I search high and low for a weakness in the land, a secret escape route, a hidden path. I even try to use my Foreseer power over and over again, and coax Aislin to try to use her magic, but neither works. The few days that pass, feel like years. While Aislin mourns, barely talking, I try to constantly stay awake because, every time I close my eyes, I see Alex with that stupid Banshee; stealing souls and looking happy about it.

A few days into my imprisonment, I’m walking with Aislin. It’s early morning, the grass dewed and wet underneath our feet. The sky is painted golden as the sun peeks over the horizon and highlights the edges of the cliffs. It’s a sight beautiful enough to paint, but being here, living here, is horrible.

 We walk along the base of the cliff, plucking at the leaves on the trees. “I have a question,” I say. “How did the guards get in?”

“Fey magic,” she mutters, kicking a rock.

“Faeries don’t have magic.” I dodge around a tree. “Do they?”

She shakes her head, gathering her hair out of her face as she stares at the ground. “They’re not supposed to, yet they do… I think something might be changing.”

I think of the war, the struggle for power between the Queens, and how Luna was in the real world, but now she’s not, like she was looking for something, then found it and came home.

Aislin stops walking and picks up a small rock from the ground. Bending her elbow, she tosses it at the rocky ledge above us. “I’m so sick of this. We’re always fighting something—nothing changes.” The rock bounces off the cliff and tumbles back towards us, just like when the boulders fell. “It gets old, you know?”

“Yeah, I know,” I agree.  “But what else are we going to do? Give up? Because that’s about the only option we have.”

“Maybe,” she says, discouraged.  I remember when I first met Aislin, how cheerful she’d been, but now she seems beat, worn out, tired of fighting.

We walk silently for a while, until we reach the entrance to the tunnel.

“Are you sure the shield is on?” I check, eyeing the opening over. “I walked in here, you know? I mean, how do you really know… because they told you or something?”

“It only works when you’re trying to leave.” Bending her arm, she points at her elbow at a patch of skin peeling off. “This is what happened the last time I checked it.”

I stop, bending over to pick up a rock, then standing up straight, I throw the rock and it flies down it.

Aislin lets out a gasp, clutching onto my arm. “Oh my God, it’s… it’s not on anymore?”

I let my arm fall to the side. “How do you know?”

She lets go of my arm and marches up the path, winding around the tree, and then steps up to the opening. She glances up at the top of the cliff and then, taking a deep breath, she sticks her arm into the cave.

I walk up behind her, squinting at the cave. “What are you doing?”

She lowers her arm to her side and gives me a sad smile. “The last time I tried to do that—the last time we tried to put something in there—it instantly lit on fire, but…” She rolls her shoulders back and marches forward, stepping into the darkness. “Would you look at that?” She sticks her head back out and jumps up and down, clapping, and for a moment she seems like her old self. “It’s off.”

“Yeah, but why do you think it’s off?” I wonder skeptically because nothing is ever supposed to be this easy. It’s practically a rule these days. Easy equals danger. “I don’t know—” before I can finish protesting, she yanks on my arm and tugs me inside.

“What if it’s a trap?” I hiss as she releases her hold on my arm.

“A trap to what?” she asks with doubt. “To trapping us back in here? Because, let’s face it, Gemma, they already pretty much have us.”

I nod, still doubtful. “Yeah… maybe….”

“Maybe it’s just a malfunction,” she suggests. “But whatever it is, I think we should risk our chances because staying here,” she gestures around the room and then glances at the cliff where Aleesa fell from, “is going to get us nowhere.”

She has a point, but still, it seems way, way too simple. Regardless, it’s all we’ve got, so taking a deep breath, we walk down the tunnel, hoping for once that something will be that easy.

Yet, when I step through, just like that, I’m heading down the tunnel with Aislin at my side. I grasp onto the rock wall and feel my way along the path. I can’t see a damn thing, but I can hear Aislin breathing loudly, like she’s scared to death.

As we reach the exit and the tunnel opens up, a dark shadow blocks the light flowing inside. Sticking my arm out, I push Aislin back and step into the shadows.

“What are we going to do about him?” Aislin whispers. “Usually I’d go to magic, but I’m useless right now.”

Tiny glances over his shoulder and we jump to the side, ducking behind a large boulder.

“I don’t know,” I whisper, peering over. “There’s got to be something…”

Tiny looks away and sits down on the ground, right in the center of the exit. His diamond wings fold inward and again he glances back, like he can sense us.

“He’s huge,” Aislin whispers, peeking over the top of the rock. “But he doesn’t look mean. In fact, he almost looks sad.”

 “He does, doesn’t he?”

“He does.”

We turn around and sit down on the ground, thinking.

“We could try to take him down,” Aislin suggests, flexing her fingers at her side as she rolls her neck. “It’s two against one.”

“Yeah, and he’s like five of us in size,” I mutter, raising my knees up and resting my chin on them. I close and open my eyes, wishing I could just blink us away, but I can’t feel a spark, no energy. I’m useless at the moment and I hate it.

Suddenly, the ground begins to tremor, pebbles scattering, and pieces of the ceiling chip off and crash down around us. I’m about to ask what the hell is going on, when a dark shadow capes over us. I angle my head back and look above me.

Tiny’s bright blue eyes stare down at us, his wings expanding like he’s ready to fly away. Aislin leaps up to her feet, throwing her hands out in front of her, a habit that comes from frequently using her magic. My lips part as I start to back away.

Tiny eyes us both and then places one of his huge fingers against his lips, warning us to be quiet. We both freeze and I look over to Aislin and mouth, “Huh?”