Soul of a Witch (Souls Trilogy)

From that day on, I spent every morning in the meditation room. Callum would join me, using his voice and hands to ease me into that dream-like state of relaxation.

Sometimes, I had visions. Sometimes I saw nothing at all. My grandmother warned me that regardless of what I saw, I had to remember these apparitions were merely possibilities, not guarantees.

“Even I have fallen into the trap of attempting to change the future based upon things I envisioned,” she said. “But you must resist the temptation. What you see and what eventually may come to pass can be very different things.”

Most of my visions were vague; merely still images or fragments of conversation. I saw Raelynn once, with Leon beside her, and it gave me hope she would live.

Too many people had already been hurt by my father and his Libiri. Even one more life lost was unacceptable.

Besides keeping myself relaxed, my grandmother made it clear meditation served another purpose too: I had to learn to guard my mind, how to erect mental barriers in case the God attempted to attack me again. It would be difficult for Its mental influence to reach me within this house, but even so, my encounter with It in St. Thaddeus had left me vulnerable.

“The creature knows exactly how to reach your mind, how to frighten you, how to trick you,” Grams said. “Although this house is well-protected, an unguarded mind can still be vulnerable to influence. If It can find a way to harm you, Everly, It will.”

What a reassuring thought.

Still, after several days of consistent meditation, I was getting better at it. Simply breathing still didn’t settle my anxious thoughts, but it could help me keep steady until they passed. My grandmother suggested a metronome to help me focus, and some mornings I would lay on my bedroom floor, losing myself in the slow and steady tick.

It started to feel as if I was more in control. As if, maybe, my mind was finally safe.

At least…it felt safe when I was awake.

My nightmares had returned.

It helped that Callum was usually there when I fell asleep. He would sit on the bed with me, or close by. He didn’t sleep himself and was often too restless to lie down. But he would hum softly, or rub my back as old records played at a low volume on the gramophone.

Perhaps it gave me a false sense of security.

A storm moved in one night, bringing with it lightning and crashing thunder. Rain pounded the windows. Callum had put on one of his favorite records for me to sleep to, the gentle crooning of The Ink Spots filling the room as I drifted off.

When I awoke, hours later, the rain was still pouring. The record had stuck, the same two words scratching as they played again and again, “I don’t — I don’t — I don’t —”

I stumbled out of bed and across the room, switching the gramophone off. In the silence that followed, as I blearily rubbed my eyes, I could still hear music playing. But it was far away and so faint. Like it was deep in some other part of the house.

Callum was no longer in the room. For some reason, his absence gave me a strangely queasy feeling.

I should have gotten back in bed. But now that I was up, that uncomfortable feeling led me inexplicably toward the door. Opening it, I poked my head out into the dark hallway, looking up and down. Lightning flashed, illuminating the empty hall.

“Callum?”

There was indeed music playing, and strangely, it sounded like the exact same record that was currently sitting in my room. I stepped out into the hall, leaving the door ajar behind me.

“Callum?” I raised my voice a little louder. The demon had sharp hearing; there was no doubt that if he was in the house, he would hear me.

Why wasn’t he answering?

The floorboards creaked beneath my bare feet as I made my way down the hall toward the stairway. The music wasn’t coming from above but from below. On the same floor as the library.

A strange certainty that I needed to be quiet settled over me as I descended the stairs. Thunder rumbled as I reached the next floor, accompanied by another flash of light. In the sudden illumination, I spotted a figure walking ahead of me down the hall.

A chill ran over my skin as I stopped walking. Without any light, I could no longer see the stranger ahead of me in the dark. Her back had been to me, her hair long and pale blonde.

“Mama?” I whispered her name into the dark. With another flash of lightning, I caught a glimpse, right as she turned and entered the library, the door quietly clicking shut behind her.

The music was closer now.

The library door creaked as I pushed it open. The wind and rain made it sound as if there were imperceptible sounds all around me, emanating from the shadows. Following the music, I made my way to the upper level.

The vault was open.

Only a few flickering candles were lit within. The air was so still. Something told me I wasn’t supposed to be in here, at least not alone. I needed someone with me, but…

But I wasn’t alone. Mama was here.

Taking one of the candles from the desk, I held it up to illuminate the way as I crept toward the back of the vault. Its flame fell upon the hatch leading down to Sybil’s laboratory, but someone was barely holding it open, staring at me with wide eyes through the gap.

The moment my light fell on her milky white eyes, Mama vanished, down into the dark.

I had to follow her. I had to.

There was an odd sensation at the back of my skull. Like fingernails scratching. Like roaches crawling under my skin.

Holding my light in one hand, I pulled open the hatch. A dusty, floral smell rushed out, like dry roses left in an old graveyard. Leaning over the edge, I listened. The music was coming from down there. But faintly, over the sound of the music, was something else. Straining to hear, I leaned closer.

It was whispering. Someone was whispering my name.

It didn’t sound like my mother.

Something grabbed my hair in a sudden, unbreakable grip and pulled. I tumbled down, screaming as I fell until I landed hard on the dirt floor. With the air knocked out of my lungs, I lay there, my candle gone out, completely blind in the dark.

The music stopped. But I could still hear the whispering.

“Come closer, Everly. Come, come, come, my dear sweet girl. My child.”

“You’re not my mother.” I scrambled to my feet. Extending my hands, I turned in a complete circle, feeling frantically for the ladder so I could get out of here. But as my eyes adjusted to the dark, I realized there was no ladder.

It was gone.

Pressing my back against the cold dirt wall, I could see something crouched near the entrance to the tunnels. Long, wet blonde hair hung in its face. Dirty, gnarled fingernails tapped upon its knees.

“Come closer,” it whispered. “And you’ll see.”

Shaking my head, I tried to summon fire. Sparks cascaded away from me, but my efforts were useless, unless I could somehow get my mind under control.

This was a nightmare. It had to be. This was all in my head.

I had to make it stop.

Slowly, the hunched being that looked like my mother stood. Its proportions were all wrong. Too tall, its limbs too long, its rib cage too wide.

“Perhaps you do not love your mother,” it hissed. Its head was still low, so I couldn’t see its face. It lifted its hands, running its grotesque fingers through its hair. The long blonde tresses fell away, leaving behind silky black strands.

My breath caught.

It looked at me with Callum’s face. But his eyes weren’t black. They were white.

“Come to me, Everly,” he said. “I have something to show you.”

Again, I frantically shook my head. I needed to calm down. My breath was coming too quick and panicked, my thoughts moving too fast.

Callum raised his hand, curling his finger at me. “Don’t make me come get you.”

Dread shot through my veins. Sucking in a deep breath, I forced myself to hold it before fully exhaling. Again and again, I gulped in air until I felt light-headed.

“You can’t touch me,” I said. My voice was too frightened, too uncertain. I tried to think only of the ticking metronome, filling my mind with its repetitive tone.

The thing took a step toward me, tipping its head to the side. “You don’t believe that. Your mind is full of doubts.”

This was a dream. Only a dream. I could wake up, and this would all go away.

Callum laughed eerily. “Are you really dreaming? Or do you only wish you were?”

My chest was tight with fear, but I could control this. I could wake up. The God had found a way into my nightmares, but It was in my head and I could force It out. These were only thoughts, figments of my imagination. I could control them, I could make them stop.

The creature with Callum’s face abruptly stopped walking. Its lips curled, revealing black-stained teeth.

“Get the fuck over here, Everly,” it snarled. “You know who I am.”

“I know exactly who you are!” I said, raising my voice. “You’re a liar! You’re not Callum! You’re not —”

There was a flurry of motion, and everything changed. I was no longer underground, staring at the thing wearing Callum’s face. I was sitting up in bed, my hands gripping the sheets, my skin cold with sweat.

Callum stood at the foot of the bed, his hand outstretched toward me. His eyes were wide with concern, and they were black, as dark as the deepest reaches of the night sky.

Scrambling across the bed, I flung my arms around him. He held me tight, soothing me, his hand stroking over my hair. He sat on the mattress, gathering me close, saying, “I’m right here, it’s okay. I never left, Everly. You’re all right.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck, burying my face against his chest. “It had your face, Callum. But I made it leave. I did it.”

“Of course you did, darling.” His hand cupped my face, and I was finally able to close my eyes again as I relaxed against him. “I knew you could. I knew you’d find that strength. Easy now. It can’t hurt you. You’re in control.”

At last, I felt as if I was.