Wandering Soul (24 page)

Epilogue

Summer Park, Florida—2015

Garrett leaned against a counter in the doctor's lounge, chugging another cup of coffee to stay on his feet. He didn't trust himself not to fall asleep if he dared to sit down. A dull ache filled his chest.

The bruises on Elsa's throat were mostly superficial. Damn, she had done a good job fighting off that psychopath. She was resting, sedated, so Garrett would need to wait to tell her Dante was out of surgery and doing well.

He wished he had more good news to share.

Last he saw, Jazz was sitting next to Elsa's bed, watching her like a hawk, dark eyes following anybody who dared come into the room. The nurses said it was sweet, but he knew better. Jazz was guarding Elsa, not just watching over her. If anyone dared to make a mistake in Elsa's treatment, Jazz would crush them, any way she could.

And she would come for him soon, full of questions. She would want to see Rachel, and Garrett would have to explain why that wasn't possible.

Rachel was on the fifth floor. The psych ward.

His hands were still shaking. The memory of Rachel being held down, strapped to a bed as she thrashed and screamed, begging Garrett for help, to make
the voices
stop… His stomach churned, the coffee rising into the back of his mouth with an acid finish.

After what Rachel had been through, he'd expected something, but not a full-blown psychotic break. It was killing him that he couldn't help her. And he had a feeling there was more going on with her than she was telling anyone.

As if being abducted and tortured, and then killing a man wasn't enough.

He turned around and punched the cabinet, hard. He'd feel it for days and he didn't care. The pain was a balm, took his mind off the terror of it all for a few seconds. Long enough to remember that Finn had left a voicemail hours ago, when Garrett's world was still bright and his friends all safe and whole. Garrett hadn't been able to listen to it yet.

He pulled out his phone, then hit
play
as he lifted it to his ear.

“Hey, man. I know you told me to stop digging into Dante Lucerne, but you're going to be glad I didn't. He isn't conning Elsa. That
Dante Lucerne
I told you about from the 1800s? It's the same guy! I don't know how she did it, but Elsa brought him here straight from that theatre fire that supposedly killed him. This is so fucking unbelievable!”

There was a pause where the only sound was Finn's quick footsteps. What the hell was Finn talking about? When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, but still thrummed with excitement.

“She didn't call the cops after the break-in because she's terrified of anyone finding out. After how cool you were when I showed you what I can do, I know you'll help her and not freak. And you need to know. I picked up another trail. Someone else is following her.”

Garrett's stomach roiled again. Had the voicemail come in time for him to do something, to prevent what happened to his friends? Why hadn't he checked it sooner?

“I have a really bad feeling, Garrett. And you know what it means when I say that. Keep Elsa close, but be careful, man. I'm going to see what else I can dig up.”

Garrett kept the phone to his ear, too stunned to move. If Finn said Dante was from the 1800s, Garrett believed it. Finn's word was beyond doubt. And as Garrett thought about it, pieces clicked together in his mind. It made sense.

How insane had his world become that time travel was the most rational explanation for a host of mysteries?

How insane…

His thoughts went back to Rachel on the fifth floor. Sweet, smart, sensitive Rachel, who had saved her friends but not herself.

Garrett wouldn't let her slip away, he wouldn't let this break her. If Elsa could travel through time to save Dante, Garrett sure as hell could help Rachel put the pieces of her life back together.

He would find a way.

About the Author

Cassandra Chandler has studied folklore and mythology for her entire life and been accused of taking fairy tales a bit too seriously. In her youth, when not reading or watching science-fiction movies, she could be found running through the wilds of Ohio and Florida. Raised in a household where tarot readings and viewing auras were considered mundane, she spends her time writing and trying to appear normal. At least the writing is working out.

Her romances range from sweet to scorching, set in extraordinary worlds and driven by characters searching for a deep and lasting love. Her sincere hope is to make her readers look twice at that knobby old tree and perhaps decide to keep salt packets within easy reach, just in case…

She has always seen the starry sky as a destination rather than a matte painting. Her primary residence is on earth, where she lives with her amazing family and a wide variety of stuffed animals, many of whom have multiple PhDs. You can follow her thoughts on writing, life and mostly writing at
www.cassandra-chandler.com
or see her real-time ramblings on Twitter (
@casschandler
). She loves to hear from readers through email at
[email protected]
!

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eBooks are
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transferable.

They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B

Cincinnati OH 45249

Wandering Soul

Copyright © 2015 by Cassandra Chandler

ISBN: 978-1-61922-683-8

Edited by Holly Atkinson

Cover by Kanaxa

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

First
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
electronic publication: July 2015

www.samhainpublishing.com