Old Souls Page 8

  “I don’t understand.” My brows pulled in confusion as I turned toward Michael. “You said it was punishment for what happened.”

  He blew out a deep breath. “It is…sort of.”

  “Sort of? There is no sort of about it. If it’s happened with other witches and they weren’t punished, why would they sentence me so harshly but not the others? What makes me so special?”

  “They’re penalizing you as a repeat offender,” he answered. “It’s the only time capital punishment is handed down as a sentence. Repeat infractions draw undo attention and risk exposure. The elders will not allow it.”

  “I’ve never done anything like this before—and you can be damned sure I never will again. It was an accident. For crying out loud, I didn’t even know I could bring Colin back.” He flashed me a meaningful glance, like he knew something I didn’t. None of this made any sense to me, they were hiding something.

  “What aren’t you telling me?”

  His gaze went from Mark and then back to me. I almost thought he wouldn’t answer my question until he said, “You have done this before, actually.”

  “This is such a load of crap and you know it.” Mark snapped. “She is not Evangeline”

  Just hearing the name caused a spike in my blood pressure. Something was tickling at the back of mind, like the answer was within my grasp but there were pieces I couldn’t quite remember. It was like trying to see the picture on a puzzle with half the pieces missing. Why did that name sound so familiar? I was sure I’d never heard it before, so why did it feel like I had?

  “Who’s Evangeline?”

  Mark and Michael both turned to me, pity clear on their expressions. Oh boy, now I was getting worried.

  Michael snapped out of it first and distracted me from thoughts of this mysterious Evangeline. “Well, I’d love to hear your explanation, but I have stuff I need to do tonight. I have to be going.”

  “What?” My heart took off in a frantic gallop. “But you said I could have some time to say goodbye.”

  Mark stepped in front of me again. “I don’t care what she said to you. You…are…not… touching…her. I won’t allow it.” He enunciated each word, his jaw grinding with tension.

  Michael stepped right up to Mark’s face in a standoff I was positive would end in blood shed. I placed a hand on his arm to calm him, “Mark.”

  “You’re lucky she offered to sacrifice herself the way she did.” Michael pulled his eyes from Mark to glance at me. “That’s why I believe her. That’s what saved her life…for tonight anyway.”

  “What do you mean? You’re not going to kill me?” I asked, hopeful.

  “Not tonight.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really.” The corner of his lip tilted with a wry smirk. “It’s not like you’re going anywhere. You are not to leave this condo until I return.”

  “Does that authoritative shit normally work for you?”

  Mark snorted with humor at my sarcastic comment.

  “It does when there is a blood oath in effect. Go ahead, try to leave.” The words were a challenge.

  Curiously, I ventured to the front door of the condo, but when I tried to walk through the door I bounced back inside—I mean, literally bounced. It felt like I was in a Looney Tunes cartoon when the characters run into an elastic band and then get thrown backwards. There was some kind of barrier preventing me from leaving. I was trapped. “What the hell is this?”

  “This is the blood oath forcing you to keep your word. You are to remain where I can find you. You have tonight to talk. I will return in the morning.”

  The two men who had come with Michael preceded him into the hallway, but he turned back before leaving. “Just out of curiosity, those were some nice moves earlier, where’d you learn to fight like that?”

  It was a little odd, his appreciation. Still, I answered the question. “My uncle has a mixed martial arts studio. I’ve been training since I was ten.”

  “It was pretty impressive. I haven’t had many men who have been able to get that many hits on me.” He nodded and then left.

  Closing the door, I turned to Mark. “Who is Evangeline?”

  Chapter 8

  Revelations

  Mark led me by the hand to the living room. “You want a drink? I know I need one.”

  “That bad, huh?” I joked.

  Clearly not happy about what had happened earlier, his lips flattened and his mouth took on a grim tilt.

  “Alyssa, if I didn’t love you so much and know that you took that blood oath out of a misguided sense of guilt and responsibility, I’d put you over my knee and spank you.”

  Despite the gravity of our situation, the threat had my belly clenching with excitement. It was impossible for me not to challenge him. “You wouldn’t.”

  Next thing I knew, he had me pinned to the wall with his arms bracketing either side of my face. “Wouldn’t I?” he drawled, one eyebrow arched in defiance.

  Shoring up every ounce of self-control I possessed, I put my hands on his chest and pushed him away. It was hard considering how desperately I wanted to pull him closer. This aggressive side of him had desire surging through me. I wanted him, badly, but desire conflicted with my need for answers, and I didn’t have much time to get those answers.

  “As tempting as your offer is, I really need you to tell me about Evangeline.”

  He stepped back as if I’d struck him. His heated gaze cooled and he let out a deep breath, running his hand through his hair.

  “Really, it’s that bad?”

  “What I have to tell you will shed some light on things, but it will also be…difficult for you.”

  “In that case, anything with alcohol please.”

  He chuckled, but it was a humorless sound. “You got it.”

  Carrying two small tumblers of amber liquid, he returned and handed one to me. I almost choked on the smell when I inhaled the potent mixture. Perfect. Tilting my head, I took a swig, enjoying the burn as it traveled down my throat.

  I coughed for second before clearing my throat. “Before you tell me about Evangeline, I have another question. While you were in the kitchen I started thinking about everything that has happened over the past few days, and there’s something that doesn’t make sense to me.”

  “Honestly Alyssa, I’d planned on explaining everything to you today. Things have just been so crazy. Ask away, I’ll tell you everything.”

  Staring attentively, he took a seat on the sofa across from me, looking more than a little tense while he waited. “Something has been bothering me the past few days. I meant to ask you about it but with all hell breaking loose, it just slipped my mind.”

  “Okay. What is it?” he asked.

  “How do you know about all of this? Witches, soul mates, the ISM, elders, punishments and imbalances, you knew about all of it well before I did. You said our powers are activated when we meet our soul mate, but you recognized me. You knew what I was to you and exactly what to expect after we met, and yet I had no idea. This is all new to me, but none of it seems unexpected to you. How is that possible if we both came into our powers at the same time?”

  Fiddling idly with the glass in his hands he avoided my gaze. “That’s the million dollar question, isn’t it?”

  Inhaling deeply, he slid his hand through his hair… again. I hope Mark wasn’t a poker player because it was too easy to spot his tell. His nervousness and silence had a knot forming in the pit of my stomach. Finally, after a few minutes his eyes locked on mine and he opened his mouth to speak. “How old are you Alyssa?”

  I was momentarily taken aback by the non sequitur, but eventually answered his question. “Twenty nine, why? What does that have to do with anything?”

  I think you’ll understand when I tell you my age.”

  Willing my heart rate to slow, I waited for him to continue. “I’m two hundred and thirty five years old.”

  Silence stretched between us as I wondered if I’d heard him co
rrectly. “Pardon?”

  “Two hundred and thirty five.”

  “How is that possible?”

  “I told you, witches don’t age.”

  “But you said that doesn’t happen until our powers are activated when we meet our soul mates. I’m assuming we each only have one …” I gasped suddenly as a crazy, impossible thought hit me. “Evangeline?”

  He nodded, somberly. “Two hundred years ago in Paris I met Evangeline. It was…shocking, to say the least, when our powers began to manifest. Neither of us knew what was happening. Luckily, the others sense when our souls come together. We were contacted by two witches shortly after we met. They taught us everything we needed to know.”

  “Other witches can feel it?”

  “Yes, like I said before, we’re all connected. Witches are more in tuned to those connections than anyone. We all eventually become aware of the energy that flows around us, and new witches coming into their power is like a power surge. It upsets the steady flow in the system and every witch feels it. I’ve only felt it once in two hundred years. It’s actually extremely rare for soul mates to find each other—there are only about a hundred alive right now and considering we live a long time, that tells you just how infrequently it happens.”

  “And yet, it’s happened twice for you?”

  He smiled—a huge beaming grin that stretched from ear to ear. “I never thought in a million years it would. I still can’t believe it.”

  God, this was confusing, but what was more confusing was the powerful wave of jealousy that nearly engulfed me. Since Mark told me about our connection, I felt…I don’t know, special, like I was the only one in the world for him. Now hearing about Evangeline, a deep ache took root in my chest.

  “Trust me,” Mark chuckled. “You have absolutely no reason to be jealous of her.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure I—” Losing my train of thought, I realized suddenly what Mark had just said. “How did you know I was jealous? I didn’t say anything.”

  Without saying a word he moved to where I sat, dropping into the seat next to me. “I felt your jealousy.” Reaching his hand up, he tucked my hair behind my ear. The tenderness of the action drew a deep, full body shiver from me.

  “It happens when we’re close. The more time that passes the more skills you’ll notice we develop.” His eyes glinted as he leaned closer. I felt a stirring in my tummy as his liquid gaze drifted down and eventually settled on my lips. A shot of desire flooded my body, which I assumed he felt since his eyes gleamed with pure male satisfaction. In the next second his mouth was on mine and he was kissing me, hungrily.

  Our emotions… even our thoughts will be open to each other. He continued to kiss me as his thoughts resonated inside my head. It’s a little strange at first, but don’t worry, I can’t hear anything unless you want me to. It’s just like speaking in our heads.

  As far as strange sensations went, this was the weirdest thing I’d ever experienced. His lips never parted from mine as he spoke. Inside. My. Head.

  Talk about strange.

  It wasn’t his voice exactly, more like a muted echo in my mind. Like thinking. I could’ve almost mistaken the thoughts as my own, but there was a different tone to the words. Not to mention he was talking directly to me, that was a big clue. I decided to try and talk to him the same way, see if he could hear me.

  Mark?

  Yes?

  Holy shit. You can hear me.

  I told you. I could feel him smiling as his mouth glided against mine. Only Mark could talk to me while giving me one of the best kisses I’d ever had. God, he was sexy.

  I heard that, he teased. I was pretty sure I even heard a smug chuckle in my head. Unbelievable.

  God, I love kissing you. I wasn’t sure where that thought had originated, him or me, but it didn’t matter. I would have thought I’d feel violated with him inside my head, but it was surprisingly intimate, especially when his mouth was devouring mine. His arms pulled me impossibly closer while a deep moan rumbled up his chest. He was so close the heat radiated from his body, soaking into mine. I felt the thumping of his racing heart, thrumming against my chest.

  Threading his fingers through my hair, he gave a painless, but insistent tug, ratcheting my pulse even higher. Slipping his tongue deeper inside my mouth, he stroked mine in a rhythm that felt so perfect. How easy it would be to become consumed by his touch, to forget everything else. Already, I felt my back involuntarily arching toward him, seeking more. Yet despite my body’s screaming protests, I somehow found the will to disengage from his hold. We still needed to talk.

  “We’re getting distracted again.” I admonished while trying to catch my breath. “I want to hear everything about Evangeline. Despite what you say, I can’t help but feel jealous that someone else shared this connection with you. You said the souls were divided in half and separated. Half indicates only two parts—there were more?”

  He flashed me a disbelieving look, almost like there was something I was missing. Then he stood and began to pace. “You told me you had dreams about me before we met?”

  “Yes, and Michael too. The recurring nightmare I told you about, it was him.”

  The mere mention of Michael’s name and his eyes narrowed, hands tightening into fists as he clenched his jaw. He had serious anger issues toward that man.

  “I think the dreams were some kind of premonition.” I continued, ignoring the sudden tension pouring off him. I hadn’t really considered how unusual it was that I’d dreamt about Michael for weeks before he attacked, especially while I was fighting to survive. But now that I had the chance to think clearly, I realized my dreams must have been some sort of precognitive vision. What other explanation could there be? I dreamt of both men with such perfect detail prior to meeting them.

  “It wasn’t a premonition, Alyssa.” He stopped pacing and looked down at me.

  “I don’t think it was a coincidence Mark. No way.”

  “Not a coincidence either.” He insisted.

  “Then what?”

  “The first time you met us in person was our appearance the same as in your dreams? Think about hair and clothing, was it identical?”

  Although he posed it as a question, it seemed less like he was asking for his benefit and more like he was trying to make a point. And come to think of it, in my dreams Mark had been dressed like the hero on the covers of the historical romances I read. I wasn’t sure about Michael; I was way too terrified to notice anything he wore.

  “Now that you mention it, I thought your clothes were odd. I don’t remember what Michael wore, but you were wearing old fashioned clothing and your hair was longer.”

  “That’s because the dreams weren’t premonitions…they were memories, of your life as Evangeline.” At my confused expression he continued. “Alyssa, you are right that we each only have one soul mate. You were there two hundred years ago the first time we found each other, or at least your soul was.”

  The first time? Mark’s words from earlier played through my mind, I can’t lose you again. He’d said it twice now.

  My breath hitched. “Oh my God!”

  Reincarnation? Was he crazy? Somehow, I didn’t think so. As ridiculous as it sounded, his statement made a weird kind of sense—well, if you were in the Twilight Zone. Still, I’d seen stranger things the past few days and it did explain a lot. “That’s what you meant when you said you couldn’t lose me again. You were talking about her.”

  “I was talking about you. I don’t want to lose you.” His voice cracked, before he continued, “Like I lost her the first time. Shit. This is so confusing. Nothing like this has ever happened before. There has never been another case of a witch finding his or her soul mate a second time.”

  “Never?”

  He shook his head. “When I first found you I checked with the brothers to see if they’d ever heard of it happening before. This is the first time.”

  “How did she…I die?” He was right, this was confusing. How was I sup
posed to refer to the person who once shared the same soul I now possessed? Did that make us the same person?

  A crushing sadness distracted me from my musings, but it wasn’t mine. It was coming from Mark. I could only imagine it was the memory of losing Evangeline that would cause such a profound sense of loss. Even now, almost two centuries after it happened, his grief was like a physical blow. Wrapping my arms around him I pulled him close, hoping to ease some of it for him.

  “It happened exactly how you dreamt it. She woke up to Michael draining her, he was the one charged with carrying out her punishment. I was away at the time, but I saw it all as I slept. Not only that but I felt it, she was terrified.”

  God, if Mark saw Michael kill Evangeline, his anger toward the man made perfect sense. Whether or not he was ordered to do it Mark had to hate him.

  “I felt it, the exact moment she died,” he continued, “like a piece of my soul was ripped out. My existence was suddenly nothing—a black hole, empty. At least before I met her I had no idea what it felt like to be whole. I didn’t know there was a part of me missing. When she was gone, I knew exactly what I was missing. I almost didn’t survive it.”

  “I’m so sorry, Mark.” I wasn’t sure what I was apologizing for. I was sorry for his loss, but it was more than that. I felt responsible for it.

  “Why did they kill her?”

  He looked at me with a resigned expression. “You know why. He told you.”

  “Oh God,” my voice wavered and the blood drained from my face. “I…killed people?”

  His eyes flared with determination. “Alyssa, you need to understand that you aren’t exactly the same person as Evangeline. You may share a soul, but you are still your own person. You have your own personality and character traits. Not to mention you had completely different upbringings.”

  “So, what does that have to do with anything?”

  “Nature vs. Nurture,” he answered, “it’s been debated to exhaustion with no clear answer one way or the other. I don’t know exactly why, but I do know that you are so different than she was.”