chapter 1
Alex
My mother used to call it the evanescence of the morning mist, the point where the vapor and haze begin to fade and the land clears. It’s the earliest memory I have of her. We were sitting out by the lake, watching the fog lift from the water, and just like that the land was clear and the world looked so much happier. I wished there was an evanescence of Sprites clearing the land.
Unfortunately, there’s not, so I’m stuck listening to them bang their heads against the window over and over again. It’d be the most annoying thing, except for the fact that I have thousands of other problems. Like my sister, Aislin, who’s trapped in the Faerie Realm, trying to save our half-sister Aleesa, who’s being held a prisoner by the Fey.
Then, there’s my biggest problem of all; Laylen and Gemma, and the fact that they’re both tied up upstairs because they’re possessed by a couple of lunatics; Queen Helena—ruler of the Lost Souls and the Afterlife—and Alexander—one of my dead relatives. It’s one of the strangest things I’ve ever come across, which is saying a lot because I’ve come across a lot of damn strange things.
The castle has been lonely and filled with hollowness over the last few days. I’ve been trying to keep my cool and my emotions under control, but it’s becoming more of a battle each day. The anger I’ve continually felt for most of my life is starting to creep in again and it’s making me worried. What if I turn into my father? He was always so angry all the time and so was I at one point. In fact, I was pretty much a clone of him.
I kick my feet up onto a small table in front of the red chair I’ve been sitting in for way too many flippin’ hours. Evan, an old childhood friend of mine, who happens to be an Omnia, is in the chair across from me, fiddling with a gold chain he always has on his jeans. A fire crackles from the stone fireplace and the sun shines through the window, along with the lull of the lake’s waves. I pretend that everything is natural, even though the damn Sprites outside keep singing and whistling, waiting for someone to open the door so they can come in.
“They aren’t the brightest creatures, are they?” Evan glances up at the skylight where a Sprite is ramming his head against the glass. They are beady, little creatures with nubby legs, colorful skin, and brittle wings.
I shrug and drag the blade of my sword down the sharpener. “Not really. We’re actually lucky that none of the Fey wanted to hang around.”
“Yeah, we’re lucky,” he says, tracing one of the marks on his forearm with his fingertip as he turns the page of the book opened up on his lap. “But the rest of the world really isn’t, considering all the Fey and Luna have pretty much taken over every street in the world.”
“Yeah.” I sigh and drop the sword and sharpener onto the table next to my feet.
It grows silent. Evan moves his finger to his other arm and begins outlining a jagged, golden leaf mark on his skin. Omnias have many marks due to their many powers; telekinesis, telepathy, pyrokinesis, the list is endless. It’s part of the reason why I brought him here. I figured with his variety of powers, he could help me get Helena out of Gemma, but so far, we haven’t had much luck. We haven’t had much luck with anything lately.
A slow breath eases from my lips as I recollect my last visit with Gemma. I can still hear the evil laughter inside my head as Helena told us that if we tried to remove her from Gemma’s body that Gemma would die. That she was part of her now, and that technically, Gemma no longer exists and we should give up our rescue mission. But I won’t. I’ll never stop trying. I’ll never give up. Gemma is my soul mate, my other half, the only girl I’ve ever loved. We’ve been through hell together. Hell, we’ve died and then came back to life because of our love.
I stand up and start pacing the length of the floor, unable to sit still. “There’s got to be something we’re not thinking of.”
Evan watches me walk back and forth between the sofa and the bookshelf, his eyes shaded by his black hair hanging over his forehead. “I’m sure there’s a lot of things we’re not thinking of and probably never will. The mind is a vast place, my friend, and we never do get a full insight to every single speck of knowledge we have.”
“You sometimes speak in riddles,” I say, shooting him an annoyed look. “You know that?”
“Surprisingly, that’s not the first time I’ve been told that,” he jokes, feigning a light tone as he shuts the book. He’s been reading a lot of books lately, hoping there’s an answer hidden in one of them on how to get Helena out of Gemma. Maybe there is, but there’s also a whole damn library of books and we don’t have time to go through them all.
I stop in front of the table. “I’m not sure if I believe her.”
Evan’s brows dip as he leans forward, resting his arms on his knees. “Who? Helena?”
I nod, scooping up the sword from the table. “Gemma’s too strong to give up without a fight. I know she’s still fighting. She has to be… I know it…” It sounds like I’m pathetically trying to convince myself.
Evan stares at me for an eternity and pity surfaces in his eyes as he presses his lips together. He probably has something to say and I probably won’t like it. It’s one of the things I like about him; his straightforwardness. There are no pretenses with him and he doesn’t sugarcoat things. He’s not uncaring; he just learned to deal with things in a direct manner to lighten up the complications that come from being an Omnia.
“Whatever you’re going to say, just say it.” I walk over to the china cabinet in the corner of the room and open the cupboard door. There’s an array of swords inside, all sharpened due to my nervous energy. I add the one I’m holding to the collection, balancing it in the stand.
“Are you sure you want to hear it?” he asks as I shut the cupboard. “Because you’ve been really touchy lately.”
I latch the cupboard and sit back down in the red chair. “You know I never want things sugarcoated.”
“Even when it comes to her?” he asks, his eyes wandering to the hallway that leads to the stairway.
My heart knots inside my chest and I swallow the lump in my throat. “Even about her.”
He returns his attention to me and sighs as he slumps back in the chair, coiling the gold chain on his jeans around his finger. “I can try to get inside of Helena’s mind and bend her thoughts… I can see if I can manipulate her to cooperate.” He pushes up from the couch and walks to the window, drawing back the velvet curtain. He stares outside at the lake, shimmering in the sunlight, and the Sprites pirouetting in the grassy knoll. “But because she’s in Gemma’s body, Gemma’s mind can also react to my power, and probably not in a good way.”
The knot in my chest winds tighter as I walk over to the window. “Are you saying that Gemma could end up getting hurt if you do it?”
Evan glances over his shoulder at me and his eyes convey a silent warning. “I’m not going to lie and try to make you feel better. I know how much you care for Gemma, but I can’t guarantee she won’t get hurt. I’ve never come across this kind of possession before… and I have no idea how it’s going to go.” He releases the curtain and it blocks out the sunlight, the room dimming to a grey. “There are always risks when I try to manipulate anyone’s mind. You know that. There’s a chance of causing permanent damage if there’s too much resistance from either of them. This is the Queen of the Afterlife we’re dealing with and even though we hate her, we both know she’s powerful and she’s going to put up a fight.” He pauses, his expression reflecting worry and doubt. “And if Gemma really is part of Helena now—”
“Then Helena’s resistance could damage Gemma’s mind,” I mumble, trying to grasp onto my belief that Gemma’s still herself, and that I can bring her back. Free her from being trapped. Free her from evil. That I can save her just like I promised her I always would. However, deep down, in the darkest of my thoughts, I have to wonder if maybe this time I might end up breaking my promise.
***
We decide to start with Laylen, since he’s possessed by my distantly dead grandfather, Alexander, and not a queen. When he was alive, he made the mistake of messing around with the love of three women; or more importantly, three women that came from Fey Royalty bloodlines and who happen to be sisters; Lucinda, Queen of the Underworld; Annabella, Queen of the Essences; and of course, Helena. Apparently, my grandfather was quite the ladies’ man—or whatever the hell players were called back then—and Lucinda, Annabella, and Helena all fell in love with him. Despite his player ability, he was unfortunately not very bright, considering he was messing around with three very powerful women. He ended up getting killed; or at least, that’s the theory people came up with about why he disappeared.
I lead Evan to the back corner room in the left tower of the Keepers’ castle and, once we’re inside, I close and lock the door behind us. The curtains are drawn and dust covers the stone floor and walls, along with the table and chairs in the center. In the corner, there are a set of chains fastened to the wall by thick metal clasps. I can remember from when I was younger that my father would bring many people up into this room and it was always followed by a lot of screaming. I remember one specific time where the screaming went on for days and I kept wishing for it to be over because it was terrifying; although, I’d never admit it. I’d never admit much about my feelings back then.
“He looks dead,” Evan remarks as we walk across the room towards the chains. “Maybe the possession is finally getting to him.”
“Dead or sleeping.” I take in the sight of Laylen and the metal cuffs around his wrists. As much as I hate to admit it, I don’t really like the sight of it and how weak he looks; his head hangs low, his skin pale, even for a Vampire, and there are holes in the knees of his black jeans and blood leaking from his scraped knee.
“Laylen, we need to talk.” I halt just outside of the perimeter of the chains.
Evan stops to the side of me and slightly shakes his head at me. “Be careful,” he warns.
Scooting my foot across the stone floor, I inch closer to Laylen. “Laylen, can you hear me?”
Evan balls his hands into fists, his arms flexing, and a handful of his marks ignite in various colors as he begins to channel one of his powers. “Be careful, Vampire. Like I’ve shown you a thousand times, I have a lot of power and I’m not afraid to use it.”
Stretching my leg forward, I nudge Laylen’s foot with the tip of my boot, growing impatient. “Wake up, man. Come on.”
Like the flash of a lightning bolt, Laylen’s head whips up and he leaps to his feet. Leaving me zero time to react, he lunges at me with his fangs protruding out from his lips and his eyes are as black as ash. I step back as he raises his hands for my neck and the chains stretch. He snarls as the chains reach their maximum length and jerk him backward. Snapping his fangs, he falls down to the floor and the rough edge of the cuffs dig into his skin, cutting his wrist open and blood drips out. He quickly regains his balance, getting to his feet and baring his fangs.
“Come closer and I’ll rip out your throat,” he snarls and saunters towards me, leaving a blood trail on the floor.
Most people would be scared to death. He looks like a rabid dog; fangs piercing, drool dripping from his lips and there’s even a little blood coming from his bottom lip where he’s managed to bite himself. However, I’m not a normal person. Fear is something I only experience when the one person I love is being harmed. I’m more pissed off than anything. Pissed that he tried to bite me.
Rolling up my sleeves, I march forward. “I’d like to see you try.”
He retaliates with a violent nip of his fangs and a threatening step toward me. “Come closer and I will.”
Evan snags my elbow and yanks me back. “I know you’re angry, but don’t be stupid. He’ll kill you and you know it.”
“I’m a Keeper, Evan, not some weak, vulnerable human.” Wrenching my arm from his grip, I shrug him off, but then pause, thinking of Gemma. Fighting Laylen is going to get me nowhere and will probably only end up doing more harm. I take a deep breath, trying to compose myself and silence my rage.
“You better listen to your friend.” Laylen’s fangs retreat into his mouth and vanish into his gum line, and then his lips curl into a smirk. “Although, I wouldn’t mind if you didn’t. In fact, I’ve often wondered what would happen if you actually tried to fight me and I let my Vampire instincts take over.” He shuffles forward, elevating his arms to the side of him until the chains are tight and the edge of the cuffs stab into his skin. “Usually, I hold back, but not anymore. Now cross that line and let’s see what happens.”
Anger simmers inside of me, raw and blazing like fire. I glance at Evan, knowing it’s time to get this over with before I lose my cool and rationality. “Do you remember what we were talking about downstairs? And how we said we were going to assess the situation first before we decided on anything?”
Laylen paces back and forth, dragging the chains along the floor with him as he watches me like I’m his prey. “Oh, I can’t wait to see what you two have planned next. More exorcisms? Magic? Or my favorite endeavor?” His lips curve to a taunting grin as he stops pacing and leans toward me. “Begging.”
“I was tired,” I lie through a clenched jaw, cringing at the memory of the meltdown I had. I’d come up here and begged Alexander to release his control over Laylen. He was my relative after all so I should have been able to reason with him. Turns out that not only is Alexander a player and dimwitted, but he’s kind of a douche.
“Sure you were,” Laylen says with a chortle. “And that’s probably why you cried, too.”
“It was the dust in the air,” I say, clenching my fist, the veins beneath my skin bulging with adrenaline. “So shut the hell up or I’m going to make you.”
He raises his hands to the side of him, palms aimed toward me, and he gives me a mocking expression. “Oh, the dust. How convenient.”
“Evan, just do it,” I say through gritted teeth. I’ve become even more aggravated and am brimming on my limit of control. “Before I lose my cool.”
“Are you sure?” Evan checks, crooking his eyebrow. “Because you know how things could turn out; what could end up happening to him.” He looks at Laylen who rolls his eyes.
I assess Laylen; his cocky demeanor, the arrogant smirk on his face, and the overconfident way that he stands. He’s not the Laylen I know, but if he were here, he’d tell me to do anything it took to save Gemma. That much I know. “Yeah, let’s get it over with.”
Evan nods his head once and then cracks his knuckles. Twisting his neck to the side with his hand, he pops his neck. “You might want to step back,” he suggests as he moves around me and motions with his hand for me to step back. “Things might get a little heated.”
I edge backward until I reach the oval table in the center of the room. As much as I hate backing down from a fight, when Evan tells me things are going to heat up, I know it can mean things may literally heat up. He’s actually lost control of his pyrokinesis power quite a few times and he even accidentally started a house fire once.
Evan’s hands are glowing like hot coals embedded into his skin. A mark in the shape of a flame begins swaying on his skin, back and forth, making a roaring path up his arm. Without warning, he jumps for Laylen, sticking his hands out in front of him. Laylen anticipates Evan’s move and uses his long legs to step swiftly towards him, his fangs slipping out of his lips as they get in each other’s faces.
“You think you scare me.” Laylen extends his fingers towards Evan’s throat.
Before Laylen can reach him, Evan’s back bows inward, like a stretching rubber band. His lips part and his eyes shift to a deep black. There’s a loud snap and then Evan’s thrown back into the wall. The impact is so hard some of the stones spilt open and then as quickly as it happens, he’s suddenly shooting forward again, straight in the direction of Laylen. When their bodies collide it’s as loud as a train wreck; metal hitting metal, rocks smacking together.
I start to step forward, the need to be in the action consuming me, but then I pull back, even though it kills me, because fighting and kicking—which I’m the best at—is useless for what we’re trying to do.
Laylen is slightly dazed and his legs buckle when Evan’s head rams into his stomach. Losing his balance, they both crumble to the floor in a pile. They move at the same time to get up, wrestling each other, hitting and kicking; I can barely tell who is who. Laylen’s head smacks against the floor as Evan slams his boot into his cheekbone.
“Dammit!” Laylen screams, bending his knees as he tries to shove up to his feet.
Evan’s fingers wrap around his throat and he forces his back to the ground; his hands blazing fiercely with violent orange and red flames. Smoke hisses from Evan’s arms as he presses his fingers into Laylen’s skin, strangling him as he hovers over him.
“Is that all you got, boy?” Laylen coughs as he kicks his foot upward, aiming for Evan’s stomach. He twines his arms around Evan’s, wrapping his hands around them and then grabs onto Evan’s arms. “You think a little manhandling is going to break me?”
Evan shifts his weight to the side and Laylen’s foot grazes his rib. “No, this is all just for a little fun.” Evan lets out a soft laugh as he constrains Laylen’s head to the floor. “Mere entertainment for myself… What happens next is going to break you.” A chilling smile spreads across his face. “It might even kill you.”
“Kill me?” Laylen laughs and then hacks for oxygen. “I’m a Vampire, boy, which means I’m Immortal.”
I decide to intervene and step up next to them, enjoying that I get to break Laylen—or Alexander’s—power trip. “Actually, you’re not,” I say, looking down at Laylen. His eyeballs are red, his skin white as snow, and his lips are turning blue. “My sister—your great-great-granddaughter or whatever—removed Laylen’s Mark of Immortality so you can die and pretty easily.”
The little color in his face drains. “That’s not possible.”
I grin and his eyes widen. “It is for a very powerful Witch.”
Laylen panics and his movements become sharper and more fueled by fear. He starts kicking his legs and turning his head from side-to-side. However, Evan is quick, and with a simple alteration of his position, he manages to dodge every attempt Laylen throws at him.
Evan’s normally dark eyes scorch as he angles his chin over his shoulder to look at me. Sweat beads his forehead and his hair is damp. This is taking a lot out of him and it shows. “Alex, this is going to take all of my concentration,” he explains. “Be ready to start questioning. And make it quick.”
I nod and inch around him so my boots are stationed near Laylen’s head. “I’m ready, now go.”
He targets his attention back at the horrified-looking Laylen. “Laylen, if you can hear me, I’m sorry buddy... but as for you, Alexander, I don’t really give a crap, so get ready for some pain.”
Laylen’s body starts to tremble, quaking with the vibrations of a thousand earthquakes. The stones below his head begin to rupture, cracking down the center and pieces chip away as his head cracks against them. Evan’s gaze intensifies, kindling with power. It’s like someone has struck a match inside each pupil, his normally black eyes now fill with rays of scorching red. He positions a hand on each side of Laylen’s head and secures it between his palms as he stares directly into his eyes. Seconds later, Laylen’s body stills and his arms fall slack to the side of him.
“Okay,” Evan says, panting and sounding exhausted. “Go ahead.”
“Laylen,” I say, crouching down beside him. “I need to know how to save Gemma… I need to know how to get Helena out of her without killing her.”
Laylen’s lips part and his voice is slurred, like he’s intoxicated. “D’ya think yeeer gonna save her?” he asks. “My beautiful Helena can never be beetin’.” He tries to laugh as he says it, but it turns into a strangled cry as Evan’s grip constricts on his face, his nails prodding deeper into Laylen’s cheekbones, so deep the skin splits open and blood drips out.
“You know, I was starting off easy on you,” Evan growls. “But I’ve changed my mind.” Flames burst from his eyes, raging, and flare towards Laylen’s face.
Laylen lets out a high-pitched squeal, his head tipping back, and his eyes roll into the back of his head. “No…”
“Careful, Evan, we don’t want to kill him,” I warn, leaning back on my heels to get out of the path of the flames.
The flames retreat back to Evan, sucking back into his eyes, and Laylen stills again. “Try again,” Evan orders, his gaze fixed on Laylen.
I let out a breath, praying to God that this will work. “Laylen, I need to know how to get Helena out of Gemma’s body. Can you tell me how?” There is no response and I worry that we may have pushed too far. “Laylen,” I repeat, “We have to save Gemma… you know Gemma… the girl you…” It kills me to say it, but I need to because making the emotional connection is important. Emotions carry so much significance to memories and the things we do. I need to make Laylen connect back to what he felt for Gemma. “The girl you care for.” There’s a flicker of a movement that ripples across Laylen and sweat drips down Laylen’s forehead. I’m getting worried about how much longer either of them can continue without killing themselves or each other.
“Alex,” Laylen whispers in his natural voice as his eyelids lift. The blue shade has returned and replaced the darkness that has been in his eyes for the last few days. “Can you hear me?”
I inch closer to him. “Yeah, I can hear you.”
“You can save Gemma.” He gasps each word through ragged breaths as his skin coats in sweat.
“Thank God.” I exhale, releasing the tension from my chest. “How, though? How do we do it without killing her?”
“The loophole... Annabel…” His eyelids slip shut as his body goes limp, his arms and legs falling to the floor in a motionless slump.
“Laylen, what about the loophole?” Grabbing his shoulders, I give a rough shake. “What about Annabella?” I glance at Evan who has released Laylen from his grip.
“Crap.” Evan moves away from Laylen, stepping back, his eyes widen as he stares down at Laylen. “I don’t… I don’t think he made it.”
“What do you mean; you don’t think he made it?” I rise to my feet, the storm inside my chest building, raging and panicking. “Shit. He’s not…” I jerk my fingers through my hair as I stare down at Laylen, pale skin, bluish lips, and a slackened body. “Did it kill him?”
Evan releases a slow breath and then nods his head once. I feel guilt. I feel anger. I feel pain. I feel a lot of things that I don’t like and I know it’s only going to get worse if I don’t fix this somehow.
Evan turns away and heads towards the door. I’d call him back because I might need his help, but he looks exhausted and horrified; sweaty skin, his head hanging low, and his shoulders slouched inward.
I let him leave the room and then look down at Laylen. I rub my hand across my face and then crouch down, nudging him with my hand. “Hey, can you hear me?” I hold my breath, waiting for whoever’s voice to answer, wondering if it’ll be Laylen, Alexander, or Laylen and Alexander.
But it’s silence, which is way worse than any of the voices combined. Guilt starts to plague me, foul and heavy, and it’s messing with my head. Not knowing what else to do, I take the keys out of my pocket and free Laylen from the chains. He doesn’t move and deep down I know he’s dead, and leaving him… his body cuffed to the wall, doesn’t seem right.
None of this does.
“Dammit,” I curse under my breath and jump to my feet, running out of the room after Evan.
I catch up with him on the spiral stairway that leads to the foyer. “How do you know he’s dead? Can’t he just be pretending?”
Without looking at me, he continues to walk down the stairs, shaking his head. “I… I accidentally entered the mind of the Lost Soul inside him.”
“Alexander?”
“No, there’s also a Lost Soul in him.”
I trot down the steps to the side of him. “Okay, but what’s the difference between entering Laylen’s mind, Alexander’s mind, or the Lost Soul’s mind? Either way, you’re entering someone’s mind.”
“Entering the Lost Soul’s mind is dangerous to the body of the person they’re possessing,” he says with a loud exhale and guilt creeps into his voice. “I didn’t know it would happen.” When we reach the bottom of the stairway, we stop beneath the chandelier and Evan finally looks at me. Remorse and blame flood from his eyes. “I’m sorry.” His head falls forward as he balls his hands into fists. He stands silently for a moment and then he lifts his hand and slams his fist into the banister. “Dammit, Alex!” He kicks the bottom step and then rushes over to the wall and hammers his fist into it, leaving a hole behind. “I didn’t come here to kill anyone!”
I feel like the world’s biggest douche. I feel like a jerk. I feel guilty. I feel too many things and I can’t stand it. For a moment I wish I could go back to how I was pre-Gemma and turn it off. I stand in the foyer, unmoving, with a bunch of thoughts and emotions jumbled into my head. Pain. That one stands out amongst the rest because, despite everything, only one thing really matters at the moment.
I just killed one of my friends.