Stains on the Soul Read online



  Stains on the Soul

  Jamie White

  Copyright ©2013, Jamie White

  License Notes: This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this ebook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Edited by Tara Chevrestt

  Cover by RJ Keith

  Dedication & Acknowledgements

  For my husband, who has been there every step of the way on this new path I’m walking.

  Thank you, Tara, for your work on my manuscript. You helped me to add so much to this story, and your advice followed me through the other books in this series.

  Thank you, Michelle Cornwell-Jordan, for your encouragement and support that prompted me to submit this work.

  Thanks to Vicki at Platinum Book Promotions for being such a friend to the writer community, and to the amazing people I’ve met at her events.

  Thank you to my street team and mailing list for all of your support and love. It keeps an author going. 

  Finally, thank you to readers.

  Chapter One

  The flames from the torches danced around her, creating a terrifying glow on the gathered crowd. The young girl struggled against her restraints in an attempt to escape the fate that awaited her. The jeers of the spectators echoed through her mind like a demonic chorus, sending chills down her spine.

  The more she struggled, the tighter the ropes that bound her felt. She knew it was a futile endeavor—even if she did get free, she was in no condition to attempt an escape. Plus, contrary to their insane notions, she had no special powers. Her only power was her knowledge of the earth and how its resources could be used to cure ills. What good would that do against a mob such as this?

  Her heart pounded and her breathing came quick and ragged as the men kneeled down to light the kindle piled beneath her. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, willing herself to keep calm. Her fate was sealed, but she could at least deny them the pleasure of seeing her fear. She opened her eyes, and her gaze settled on one of the spectators.

  * * *

  Fiona Stevens gasped as she sat up in bed. She took a deep breath and shook her head in an attempt to rid herself of the horrifying images that had begun to haunt her sleep. For the past week, she’d been having nightmares so real it took her a minute to realize who and where she was.

  “Another nightmare?”

  Her sister’s voice brought her back to reality. She was safe and sound in the bedroom she shared with her sister, centuries removed from the days when events like the one in her dream happened. Get a grip already. “Yeah, it’s no big deal.” She reached for the book on her nightstand and tossed it into a drawer. “I think I need to stop reading this stuff before bed. It’s just fueling my muse.”

  Rebecca smiled. “Writers—you’re all insane.” The younger girl grew serious as she studied Fiona’s face. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’re white as a sheet right now.”

  “I’m fine. Seriously; it’s no big deal.” Fiona pushed the comforter aside and stuffed her feet into a pair of slippers by the bed. She stood, grabbed the robe lying on the end of her bed, and then wrapped herself in the soft, warm material. “I think I’m gonna go downstairs and get something to drink. Sorry I woke you; go back to sleep.”

  Her sister frowned but shrugged her shoulders. “All right. See you in the morning.” Rebecca rolled over and pulled the comforter tighter to her body.

  * * *

  What is wrong with me? Fiona gripped the mug of hot cocoa tightly and took a sip, allowing the hot liquid to take away the chill that had settled in her stomach ever since the first nightmare a week ago. She could still feel heat from the flames in her dream as she looked out the kitchen window. She was beginning to question her sanity, and that terrified her.

  Maybe it’s stress. Fiona sat back in her chair, thinking of the stack of boxes in the corner of her closet and the empty spots on some of her shelves. As soon as the thought crossed her mind, a queasy feeling settled in her stomach. She squirmed in her seat, struggling to breathe against the sudden weight on her chest.

  “Or maybe not…”

  As she muttered the words, the sensations went away, allowing her to relax again. Tapping her fingers against the ceramic mug, she set it down and glanced at the clock. Seeing how much time had passed since she’d come down, she yawned as she stood and carried the cup into the living room. Fiona picked up the book she’d left on the coffee table earlier and settled into her favorite chair. Might as well do something more constructive than watching the clock tick.

  Fiona opened the book and flipped through the pages until she found her place. Another yawn escaped her lips as she read. She stayed like that for hours, until the words swam in front of her eyes. The realization she’d read the same paragraph five times caused her to abandon the book and trudge back upstairs to her waiting bed. As Fiona pulled the covers back over herself, she prayed for a deep, dreamless sleep.

  * * *

  Fiona stood in her bathroom, staring at the image before her. I look like a wreck. Red lines covered the whites of her eyes, while the dark shadows beneath them contrasted with her pale skin. “Damage-control time,” she muttered, splashing some cold water over her face in an attempt to wake up. She’d only slept a few hours the whole night. Despite the fact her alarm had yet to go off, Fiona had opted to get up for the day. She just didn’t feel like lying in bed any longer.

  She contemplated her reflection a moment before opening a drawer and digging through her makeup. She was sure she had some concealer left in there; that should take care of the dark circles at least. Fiona carefully applied the concealer, standing back afterward to inspect her work. “Not bad.”

  She dropped the tube back into the drawer and pushed it closed, turning her attention to the other major sign of her sleepless nights. Fiona opened the cabinet and pulled out the eye drops she’d bought the other day. After applying the medicine, she put the bottle back and returned to the bedroom to find something to wear. Jeans, tees, and other items flew behind her as she dug through the dresser. “Ah ha; here it is!”

  Fiona straightened as she pulled on her favorite top. It was a purple cotton tee she’d decorated herself. Odd symbols ran along the V-neck collar she’d put on with paint she’d gotten in a craft store. For the life of her, she couldn’t figure out how she’d come up with the design—or if it meant anything. Her best friend Amy had been fascinated with it when she first saw the shirt and had become convinced the symbols had to have some kind of meaning. Months of research by her friend produced no answers, and Fiona decided Amy read too much into a lot of things. It was just a shirt after all, made from doodles she’d done during chemistry class last year. Jeans and a pair of ankle boots finished her preparations.

  With that done, she picked up her bag and left the room, stepping around some of the clutter from her clothing search. Fiona moved down the staircase as if she were walking through molasses as another yawn escaped her. She took the last couple of steps and stopped at the bottom of the stairs a moment to rub her eyes before continuing on. Please let the kitchen be empty... She approached the room, listening for any sound. She sighed and cursed under her breath when she heard the familiar voices. Fiona breathed deep, allowing the smell of percolating coffee to fill her lungs. Steeling herself for a potential interrogation, she smiled and stepped into the room. “Morning.”

  Her mother sat down at the table and p
oured some juice into a glass. “Morning, sweetie. How’d you sleep?”

  She didn’t tell them. Her shoulder muscles relaxed as she grabbed her travel mug. “Not bad.” She picked up the coffee pot and poured some of the steaming liquid into the waiting container. “Hey, Becca, need a ride? I can drop you on the way to the library.”

  “Sure.” Her younger sister pushed aside her plate and stood to give their parents hugs before running to the door. “I’ll be ready in five!”

  “All right.” Fiona twisted the lid on her mug and opened the cabinet to retrieve a snack bar before stuffing it into the bag slung over her shoulder. Her shoes clacked against the tiled floor as she waved and attempted to hurry out of the room before they could start a conversation. “See you later!”

  Her father set aside the paper he’d been reading and motioned to one of the empty seats. “Fiona, hold on. You have a few minutes until your sister’s ready. Have a seat; we wanted to talk to you a minute.”

  She clenched her teeth as her mood turned even sourer. Maybe she squealed after all. Fiona turned and walked back to the table where she took a seat. “What’s up?”

  Her father handed her an envelope. “This came yesterday.”

  Fiona glanced down at the envelope, seeing the familiar seal in the corner. Her shoulders tensed, and she bit her lip as she opened it and looked at the contents. Her stomach dropped as the words registered in her mind. I got in...

  “Well?” Her mother’s voice rose in pitch as she waited for Fiona’s answer.

  Fiona folded the documents and stuffed them back into the envelope. She glanced down as she forced an answer out. “They chose someone else.” Even without looking, she could feel the change in the room. The air of anticipation had given way to an uncomfortable silence. The weight of their disappointment overwhelmed her.

  “We’re sorry, sweetie.” Her father stood and walked over, wrapping his daughter in a hug.

  The gentle tone of his voice and the pity in her mother’s eyes did little to soothe the growing knot in her stomach. She didn’t want to lie, but there was no way she was going to go to the school her parents wanted. Fiona had other ideas for her future, and they didn’t include giving up her spot at Lockhart for this place.

  “It’s okay…at least I have somewhere else to go, right?” She tried to project the right mix of disappointment and nonchalance—the last thing she wanted was for them to try and pull some strings for her and find out about her lie. “Lockhart’s got a great campus, plus they’re closer.” She put some emphasis on the last point, hoping to play on their impending case of empty-nest syndrome.

  “True.” Her mother nodded as she bit her lower lip. “You know, it would be nice for you to be closer.”

  Score... Before either one could say anything else, her sister’s footsteps sounded through the house. “Sounds like Becca’s ready.” Fiona stuffed the envelope into her bag and stood. “I’d better get going.” She gave them each one last hug before hurrying for the door, almost bumping into her sister in her rush.

  “Oops!” Rebecca laughed and readjusted the strap of her purse. “Sorry about that.”

  “No problem.” Fiona motioned for her sister to walk and followed her out the door.

  * * *

  The wind whipped through the sisters’ hair as they sped down the familiar streets. Large green trees lined the road, and the sweet aroma of a neighbor’s flower garden permeated the air along with the sounds of children playing in their yards. Rebecca pulled her short brown hair back from her face with one hand while she looked out the window at the passing homes.

  Fiona tapped her fingers on the steering wheel as she glanced over at her sister occasionally. Each moment of silence between them allowed her to think a little too much about the dream she’d had and wonder whether or not she should say anything. Once she’d come to a decision, she forced the words out before she could change her mind. “I need a favor.”

  Rebecca looked over at Fiona, her eyebrow raised. “What?”

  Fiona gaze strayed to Rebecca a moment before turning her attention back to the road. “You know those dreams I’ve been having lately?”

  “Yeah?”

  Fiona paused, considering her words. “You haven’t said anything to Mom and Dad about them, right?”

  “No, why?” Rebecca reached in her bag and retrieved her lip gloss. She pulled down the visor mirror and applied a thin coat before tossing the small tube back into her purse.

  “I’d just rather you not. You know how they are—I really don’t need them starting to worry more than they already do.”

  Rebecca giggled and looked up at her sister. “Tell me about it! You are so lucky; you’re going to be leaving soon. I’m stuck here another two years!”

  “Exactly—it would make my life so much easier if you kept quiet. Deal?” Fiona took her right hand off of the steering wheel and extended her pinky.

  Her sister linked her own pinky with Fiona’s and nodded. “Deal.”

  * * *

  Fiona pulled into the parking space, cringing as the turn of her steering wheel caused a squeal of protest. “I really need to get you checked out,” she muttered. She put the car into park and slammed the door behind her as she exited the vehicle.

  She paused outside the car, breathing deep. The scent of flowers filled her senses as she approached the quaint building that housed Fiona’s home-away-from-home. She’d started working in the bookstore the first week of her senior year, and now she frowned as she contemplated how soon she’d be leaving it.

  Paul’s Books was a charming one-story house that the owner had converted into a store when Fiona was about ten. She’d always loved visiting the place, charmed by possibilities that filled the shelves and the homey atmosphere inside. He’d used an old antique desk to house his register and adorned the hard-wood floors with old rugs. He always left the windows open during the day, filling the space with cool, fresh air and lots of natural lighting.

  Chimes filled the air as she pushed open the front door. She walked toward the back of the shop, suppressing a giggle as she watched her boss struggle with an armful of books that covered his line of vision. “Looks like I showed up just in time.”

  “As usual. You’ll have to teach me that trick someday. Can you take some of these?”

  “Sure.” She grabbed part of the stack and glanced at the cover of the one on top before walking across the room to put it on its proper shelf. She noticed one in perfect condition and opened the front cover, breathing deep of the distinct scent of fresh printing while Paul’s back was turned.

  She wandered through the store for several minutes, placing the new acquisitions on the shelves before taking her normal place at the counter. She pulled a small notebook out of her bag and began scribbling while she waited for the chimes above the front door to sound.

  “What’s that you’re working on?” Paul walked over and opened the register before proceeding to relieve it of its contents. He glanced up at her as he flipped through the bills, no doubt adding them in his head.

  She looked up from her notebook and frowned as she considered the answer to that. “I’m not sure. I have to wait and see what the characters have to say.”

  Paul chuckled as he finished counting the money. He placed it in a bag and scribbled some information on the front. “When you figure it out, let me know.”

  Fiona nodded, resuming her hasty scribbling. “You got it!”

  Just as Fiona was beginning to get lost in her new story, the chimes sounded, and she snapped to attention. She sighed as she saw Sloane Phillips walking toward her. Maybe leaving in a few months won’t be so bad after all…

  “Hi, Fiona.”

  The smile on his face caused her stomach to twist. It was a goofy grin that made his green eyes shine and caused more than a few girls to stare. A look like that really should be illegal. That smile was what made her agree to go out with him. He was just so damn nice she hadn’t been able to say no. T
hat had been a mistake; he was clearly getting more serious about her than she liked. “Hi, Sloane. Did you need help finding anything?”

  “No, I just came in to talk to you.”

  “Oh.” She bit her lip and softened her tone. “Sloane, I’m working right now. Maybe we can talk a little later?” How am I going to do this?

  He raised an eyebrow at her as he appeared to debate saying something. A moment passed, and he nodded instead. “No problem. Would it be all right if I stopped by when you get off?”

  “Sure.” Why did I just say that? She gave him a weak smile.

  “Great…. See you then.” He leaned over the counter and gave her a small peck on the cheek before he turned and walked away.

  I’m in so much trouble… Before she could get too caught up in her thoughts, a young man approached, asking her to help him find a book. More customers filed in and out, quite a few of them needing her help. A distraction was exactly what she needed at the moment.

  Chapter Two

  Okay, stay calm. No matter what he says, don’t let yourself get distracted. You’re leaving soon anyway—it’s time to face reality. Fiona stood outside the bookstore looking down at her watch. Her boss decided to close early, and she was both thankful and annoyed by it. The good thing was it gave her time to think about how to start the conversation that couldn’t be avoided. The bad part was it gave her time to think about the conversation. The longer she stood there, the worse her nerves got. She paced back and forth across the front porch as she stole an occasional glance at her watch. Okay, enough. You’re acting like a head case.

  She sat down on the wicker bench in front of the store and pulled out her notebook. Maybe she could distract herself some by working on that story again. She dug through the bag for her pen, her annoyance rising with each moment she failed to produce the object. I really should organize this bag again.

  Fiona chuckled. Her brain just didn’t work that way, but she still tried. The last ten attempts to bring order to the black hole that was her bag failed, so why should she expect another attempt to work? She grinned as her hand closed around the comforting plastic. Victory!