Shattered Souls (25 page)

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Authors: Mary Lindsey

BOOK: Shattered Souls
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Alden accelerated and turned the iPod back on. I switched it off the moment he set it down.
“You’ve been keeping things from me, Alden. You say we’re a team, but you only tell me what you want me to know. You show me bits and pieces of memories and give me half-truths. You wouldn’t do that if I were Rose, would you?”
A muscle twitched in his jaw. “Can we talk about it later?”
“No.”
He took a deep breath through his nose. “Okay. I don’t want Horace touching you. I would rather have him soul-share than have to watch him touch you. I trust him with your life—not your body.”
“I thought you guys were friends.”
“We are friends. There’s no one I trust in a dangerous situation more than Race. He and I are in agreement on this. It’s best I be the external Protector if both of us are needed.”
“Well, I’ll tell you, Alden, I wish you’d change your mind on that. It really hurt when he entered and exited.”
He almost smiled. “Some souls are more compatible than others. I’m sorry it hurt.”
I decided not to tell him about Race’s offer at the gas station. I patted Spook, who grunted and shifted positions on my legs. “I need you to tell me about Smith. If I’m going to be haunted by this ghoul, I want to know what he is and why he’s out to get me.”
He brushed the hair out of his eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about him. In retrospect, it was a mistake.”
I examined the threat carved into my arm. “So, why does he hate me so much? I didn’t execute him.”
“No, you didn’t.” Alden reached over and brushed my hair behind my shoulder. “Smith is out to get you because he believes Rose betrayed him. My experience with him in life was very limited, and unfortunately, my memory about it isn’t reliable because I was in jail when most of it was going on. Plus, I’ve been through two cycles of memories since then. I know that Smith set me up for a crime he committed. I know Rose got me out of jail by leading him on until he confided in her, which exonerated me. Basically, Rose set him up by seducing him, and he fell for it . . . and her.”
“Ew. She had an affair with a demon?” I shuddered. “She must have really wanted you cleared of that crime. What was the crime?”
“Stealing a Confederate boat in Galveston Harbor. He wasn’t a demon at the time, just a despicable crook. He was totally in love with her and didn’t see her betrayal coming. Then, after he was executed, he approached her as a Malevolent, and she wouldn’t let him use her body to exact revenge on the members of the firing squad. Insult to injury, I guess. He lay low until the next cycle, which was the one in which you . . . she was killed in the storm.”
I did the math in my head. “If Rose was nineteen when she died in 1900, how could she have been around when he was executed in 1863?”
“That was the previous cycle. Rose was born for that cycle in 1831. She was thirty-two when she had the affair with Smith that led to his execution. She died from a fever in 1875 and returned for the next cycle in 1881.”
Alden’s description of Smith didn’t make the ghoul any less creepy or dangerous, but at least I knew why he wanted me dead. I stared at the message carved into my flesh.
I will kill you again
. “Alden, what does this mean, ‘kill me again’?”
“I have no idea. Smith just wants to scare you, I guess.”
It was working. At least I knew what to be scared of now.
“You’re not going to keep stuff from me from now on, right? We’re partners, just like you and Rose were.”
He reached over and squeezed my hand. “Yes. Partners.”
I selected some upbeat music on the iPod and leaned my seat back and closed my eyes.
Soon after we reached the Houston city limits, Alden received a call from his mom’s office manager asking him to go pick his sister up early from school. The teacher wanted to meet with a family member as soon as possible regarding Charlotte, Elizabeth’s imaginary friend.
We drove straight to the posh learning center and were ushered into a bright white room just off the lobby, decorated with framed artwork drawn by children. Alden drummed his fingers on the glass table while we waited for the teacher to arrive.
“This thing with Charlotte feels wrong,” he said.
When Miss Mason walked in, I recognized her as the same teacher who had met Alden at the car when he picked Izzy up last time. She fiddled with the top button on her blouse as she sat. Her blond hair was pulled into a twist at the base of her neck, which made her look older than she probably was.
“Mr. Thomas, I appreciate your willingness to meet with me on such short notice. I tried to reach your parents, but they are both evidently in surgery today and sent word for me to speak with you in their place.” She began fiddling with her button again. “I hate that it has come to this, but I need you to tell your parents that if they cannot end Elizabeth’s obsession with her imaginary friend, we will need them to enroll her in counseling.”
“Oh, come on, it can’t be that bad,” Alden said. “It’s just a phase. Lots of little girls have imaginary friends.”
“No, Mr. Thomas, this is not a phase.” She wrung her hands in her lap. “It isn’t normal. She expounds on women’s rights and the Suffrage Movement. Little girls have princesses, ponies, bunnies, and unicorns as imaginary friends, not feminists. She says that Charlotte is very old, which is unusual for an imaginary friend as well. Mr. Thomas, I received my degree in child psychology. Honestly, I’m worried about Elizabeth.”
“Seriously? You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Wait a minute,” I interrupted. “Let me talk to her. If she agrees to not talk about Charlotte at school, will you allow her to stay without counseling?”
“Well, I suppose so, but she would need to stop completely. She becomes very animated and intense when she talks about Charlotte. It troubles the other children.”
I stood. “Deal. She’ll be Charlotte-free tomorrow.”
Miss Mason seemed skeptical, but agreed and asked us to wait until she could retrieve Elizabeth.
“What are you thinking?” Alden whispered.
“I’m thinking it’s time for a tea party with Charlotte,” I said with a smile. I couldn’t believe he hadn’t figured this out.
“How is that going to help Izzy?”
It felt good to know more than Alden, for once. “I believe that it will help
Charlotte
.”
He appeared mystified.
“Come on, Alden. Put two and two together. Charlotte is an old woman who lives in your little sister’s room. Spook growled at Izzy’s door the first time I was at your house. Izzy insists Charlotte is real. Izzy is picking up historical information that’s not typical for a little girl. You said that kids are more sensitive to the paranormal than adults. Don’t you think that sounds like a job I can handle?”
“No way! You think Charlotte is a Hindered?”
“Yep. Almost positive.”
“I’ve never even considered that. Izzy’s always had a great imagination. I would never have thought of . . .” A grin swept across his face. “That’s brilliant! I hope you’re right. Getting rid of a Hindered is a lot easier than getting rid of a figment of a little girl’s imagination.”
TWENTY-FIVE
 
E
lizabeth loaded up a tray with a pile of Oreos to take upstairs, nibbling as she stacked. She said she E needed to eat the broken ones because they were ugly and Charlotte should only have pretty ones.
“Are we going to take her some juice?” Izzy asked, standing on her tiptoes to see over the counter. She had black crumbs at both corners of her mouth.
“Does Charlotte drink juice?” I asked.
“She used to.”
“Mm-hm.” I pushed the refrigerator door closed with my foot and arranged juice boxes on the tray. “Before we go up, can we talk about Charlotte?”
Izzy tossed her gold curls and put her hands on her hips. “She’s not ’maginary!”
“I know. I just don’t want to ask questions in front of her. Okay?”
“’Kay.” She climbed up onto a stool at the kitchen counter next to Alden, who was doing his part to make sure Charlotte wasn’t exposed to offensive broken cookies.
“Are you able to see Charlotte, Izzy?” I asked.
“No. She just talks to me. But she’s real!”
“I believe you. There are lots of real things we can’t see. Does she go places with you?”
“No. She’s scared to leave my room.”
I nodded. “Why do you think she’s in your room?”
Izzy stuffed another cookie piece in her mouth. “’Cause she’s ’fraid of being alone. She said so. I tell my dollies to keep her company.” She pushed Alden’s hand away to keep him from wiping her mouth with a napkin.
“I see,” I said.
Izzy finished off her cookie.
“Come on,” I said, picking up the tray. “Let’s go have a tea party.”
We stopped outside the room. “Maybe you should tell Charlotte that she has company,” I suggested.
Izzy disappeared into her room, shutting the door behind her. I put my ear to the door and motioned for Alden to do the same. “Do you hear that, Alden?”
“I hear Izzy having a one-sided conversation.”
I grinned. “I hear two distinct voices, plain as day.”
The resolution with Charlotte was simple. She was a charming lady of around eighty years old. She was thrilled with the news that the Twentieth Amendment had been ratified in 1920, giving women the right to vote. Charlotte had devoted a large part of her adult life to the Woman Suffrage Movement, trying to secure that right. She was even happier that women were serving in both houses of Congress, the presidential cabinet, and had even run for president of the United States. She didn’t believe it until Alden produced a current newspaper.
“I have completed my job, then,” Charlotte said.
“You did a good job,” I said. “Is there anything else you need to finish before you go?”
“I wish I could hug Elizabeth.”
“Elizabeth, is it okay if Charlotte gives you a hug through me?”
The little girl nodded and clapped in delight.
I invited Charlotte to use my body to complete this last task. She must have been a proud woman. She had me stand very straight when she entered. Before speaking, she cleared my throat. The voice was rich and much lower than mine. “Do not allow yourself to be denied, Elizabeth. You must make yourself heard, no matter the cost.” She took Elizabeth in my arms. “Thank you for keeping me company.”
“Are you ready to go now, Charlotte? I’ll help you out,” Alden said from his perch on Izzy’s bed.
“Yes, young man, I am ready now.”
Alden touched my shoulder and entered to dislodge Charlotte. She appeared, dressed in a long skirt and pleated striped blouse. She closed her eyes and smiled as she was engulfed in a shaft of white light.
Charlotte was a Hindered,
Alden marveled.
I can’t believe I missed that.
“Why did she hang out with Izzy? Is Izzy a Speaker?” I asked.
No. Speakers are very rare. Charlotte was probably just drawn here because of me. Sometimes Hindered hang out where a Protector lives because they know the Speaker will turn up. Most kids can hear Hindered if they concentrate, but never get the chance.
Izzy walked over to where Alden’s empty body stood. She took his lifeless hand and, after a moment, raised her frightened eyes to his face.
Time to go. She can’t handle the whole story. Brace yourself.
I nodded.
Out,
he ordered his soul. Immediately, the body that had been lifeless a moment before took a deep breath and looked lovingly down at his little sister. He got on his knees and hugged her to him. “I love you, Izzy. I know you’ll miss Charlotte.”
“Alden, what happened?” she asked.
“Magic. A secret that only the three of us share, okay? You can’t tell anybody.”
“Okay. Pinky promise.” She held her tiny hand up and Alden linked his pinky finger through hers.
After having what Izzy deemed “the bestest tea party ever,” Alden and I retreated to his room so he could close Charlotte’s file and rack us up some more points.
I sat on the edge of the bed and watched him log on to his computer. I stared down at my arm and read Smith’s words, “I will kill you again.” The letters were raised and stung when I brushed my fingertips over them. Alden had said Rose drowned, but he had only shown me the memory up to the part where they kissed on the roof.
“Are you sure Smith didn’t have something to do with Rose’s death in 1900?”
He stopped typing, but didn’t turn around. His shoulders rose and fell as he took a deep breath. “Positive.”
I rolled my sleeve back over my forearm. “How do you know?”
Still facing away, he answered, “There’s something you need to know about Rose’s death. Something you deserve to know.” He turned in the desk chair to face me. I’d never seen him like this—so troubled. “I should have told you right away, but I was so grateful you came back, I didn’t want to ruin it.”

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