Soul Reunion Read online

  EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ®

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2018 Amber Morgan

  ISBN: 978-1-77339-547-0

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: Melissa Hosack

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  To all my readers and the Evernight Family—the best bunch a girl could ask for!

  SOUL REUNION

  Romance on the Go ®

  Amber Morgan

  Copyright © 2018

  Chapter One

  Cambridge, 1987

  The witch’s kitchen smelt of aniseed and rosemary. Sharp, brittle scents that reminded Will of the woman herself. She was all angles and bones, peering up at him from under a bird’s nest of black hair, dark eyes narrowed and judgmental. A quintessential witch, he thought.

  “You do realize the cost, don’t you?” she asked Will and Thomas.

  Thomas shrugged and waved his hand in languid dismissal. “Money isn’t an issue.”

  The witch, Connie, shook her head. “I’m not talking about money.” She turned her back on the two vampires, reaching into her cupboard for a shallow glass dish and a sharp knife. “Bringing a soul back across the veil is never what people think. She won’t be your Anne anymore, understand? She will grow up in a new world with new rules and demands, and the forces that shaped your Anne won’t be there. She will be very different from the woman you remember.”

  Will hesitated then, watching Thomas. Will’s own opinion was that it didn’t matter. It had been over four hundred years since Anne died. Four hundred years of mourning, raging against the injustice of her murder. Four hundred years of feeling incomplete. Just him and Thomas, bound together in blood and love, but missing their third. Missing their heart. Will would pay any price to have Anne back, even if it wasn’t the Anne they’d known. Her spirit, her bright soul and brave heart, surely that would be the same, even if the body housing it was different.

  Will believed that completely, trusted that their destiny with Anne was immutable. But Thomas might feel differently. And if Thomas didn’t agree, they couldn’t go through with the spell. It would take both of them to bring their soulmate back to the world of the living. They both had to live with the consequences, whatever they were. Eternity was a long time to regret a decision. He glanced at Thomas, trying to control his nerves.

  Thomas ran his hands through his sandy hair, sighing. “We’ve waited so long,” he said, more to himself than to Will or Connie. “What’s the point of immortality if we never risk anything? If we never try to live?”

  Relief flared through Will. He rested his hand on Thomas’s shoulder, squeezing briefly. “We’ll do it,” he told Connie. “Whatever the cost.”

  She set her bowl on the wooden table in the center of the kitchen. “I’ll take the blood now,” she said. “On Halloween night, we’ll perform the spell. The veils between worlds are thinnest on All Hallows.”

  Will and Thomas bared their wrists to her. They’d both fed just the night before, sharing a beautiful, silly student they’d picked up in one of Cambridge’s many overpriced bars. Their blood flowed dark and quick when Connie cut into their skin, splashing into the bowl. It shone in the soft candlelight of the kitchen, and Will felt a sudden hunger at the sight. Blood, Thomas, and Anne’s return: the only things he ever craved.

  Connie swept the bowl away without spilling a drop. “Come to St. Margaret’s graveyard at midnight on Halloween,” she told them. “We’ll see if we can lure your Anne back to the world of the living.”

  Will and Thomas left, stepping out into the crisp autumn night. Dead leaves crunched under their feet as they walked away from Connie’s crooked little cottage. An owl called somewhere nearby, soft and haunting. “Do you think it will work?” Will asked.

  Thomas stared up at the cloud-ridden sky. “Honestly, I don’t know. But I’m not sure I care.” He smiled at Will, delicately curved fangs flashing. “I’m tired of being afraid to try.”

  Will nodded. “I miss her. I always thought the longing would fade with time, but it just gets stronger.”

  “The burden of forever,” Thomas said. “There’s nothing to do but remember.”

  Four hundred years ago, they’d both been helpless to prevent Anne’s brutal death, despite their immortality, despite their vampiric powers. They’d been trapped by sunlight whilst Anne, still human and breakable, was beaten and left for dead. The memory of their failure haunted Will. This time, if the witch’s spell worked and Anne’s soul returned to them, they’d protect her. They wouldn’t leave her mortal and fragile. This time, she would join them in eternity.

  ****

  Halloween, one week later

  The town rang with music and shouts. Every pub and bar in Cambridge was filled with men and women in garish costumes: witches, vampires, ghosts, and ghouls. Pumpkins lined every window and the scent of alcohol-tainted blood drove Will mad.

  “Do they know how tempting they are?” he whispered in Thomas’s ear as they walked past a group of girls in fairy-tale inspired costumes. It wasn’t the flesh that called to him, although there was plenty of that on show. Since Anne’s death, he’d never been able to bring himself to touch another woman in passion. Thomas had been everything he needed from their first meeting. Sir Thomas Langley, the brash, arrogant lord who’d set about seducing his groomsman with such enthusiasm and charm Will had never stood a chance. And Will had found every unspoken desire met by his forbidden lover.

  Anne had been the last piece of the puzzle, perfectly fulfilling a need neither of them had realized they had. For both of them, it had never been about simply having a woman. It had been about having their woman.

  But still, the tang of mortal blood pulsing beneath the exposed skin of these revelers, that was almost irresistible.

  Thomas elbowed him in the ribs. “Focus,” he ordered. “That’s not what tonight is about.”

  Will nodded, tearing his gaze away from the girls as they headed into the next pub. High-pitched electronic music poured onto the street for a brief second as the door open and closed. Will winced. “I’ll be glad when this New Romantic fad has passed,” he said to Thomas. “I hate modern music.”

  Thomas chuckled. “You say that every decade. Focus.”

  They moved away from the bustling town center and headed for St. Margaret’s. It was a small graveyard at the edge of town, hidden behind high, crumbling walls and sheltered by yew trees. The full moon cast a cold light over the moss-covered headstones, and over Connie. She stood under one of the yews, wrapped in a heavy woolen shawl. The scent of aniseed and rosemary drifted to Will, and he wrinkled his nose.

  “Can you feel that?” she called to them.

  They exchanged looks. Thomas shrugged helplessly.

  “Power,” Connie said. She was smiling when they reached her, almost vibrating on the spot. “Dark currents and energies, all waiting to be manipulated and worked. This is a good night to pierce the veil.”

  Will inhaled, as if he could sense the power she spoke of that way. But Halloween was just another night to him; he’d seen too many of them to feel superstitious about one more. Even one like this, one that mattered so much.

  “Let’s not wait any longer, then.” Thomas strode past Will to stand at Connie’s side. Will could feel the energy buzzing off hi
s lover. Hope, excitement, apprehension… It streamed off Thomas in a torrent as irresistible as the blood Will had sensed earlier. He joined him, quietly twining his fingers through Thomas’s.

  Connie knelt to rummage in a black velvet bag. She pulled out a bottle and a smaller bag that smelt sweet and herby. “Rosemary, althea root, and bay leaves,” she said. “Mixed with your blood, it should be a potent spell.” She sounded pleased with herself. She tipped the herbs into a wooden bowl and poured their blood over it. She held her hands over the bowl, palms down, eyes closed.

  For a moment there was nothing but the whisper of the wind through the graveyard, and the faint echo of music from the city center. Then Will felt it. A prickling against his skin, a tugging at his senses. He couldn’t name the sensation, but it excited him the same way fresh-spilt blood did, stirring his body and tightening his chest.

  Thomas squeezed his fingers until it was almost painful.

  Connie’s breathing grew heavy and the air around her sparked. The scent of herbs was rich and cloying.

  Will’s breath caught in his throat. Now. Now he could believe in the magic of this night. There was no mistaking the power Connie was brewing. The blood in the bowl sizzled and hissed, smoke rising from it to form strange, sharp shapes in the night air.

  “Call her,” Connie said, voice strained. “The veil thins. You need to call her!”

  Will didn’t hesitate. “Anne!” he shouted, voice ringing through the darkness. “Anne, come back to us. We need you… We miss you.” His voice broke, centuries of desire and love weighing him down.

  Thomas took up the cry. “Annie, it’s time,” he said. “We’ve been too long without you. It’s time we were all complete again. Come back to us, Annie.”

  Will felt a freezing rush of air blast past him, seemingly from Connie. The witch gasped and collapsed in a dead faint, sprawling on the grass. Thomas rushed to help her up, but Will remained rooted to the spot. He didn’t think Thomas had heard it, but he had. He’d swear to it. A voice, piercing the cloud of smoke, faint but unmistakable. A woman’s voice. Calling their names.

  For the first time in four hundred years, Will felt like eternity might have something to offer them.

  Chapter Two

  October, present day

  It was a week until Halloween and Cambridge was already full of trick-or-treaters. Ruby rolled her eyes at the gaggle of kids wandering around the bus stop, all dolled up in overly-sexual witch and vampire outfits. Was it her imagination, or were they all way too old to be trick-or-treating anyway? And really, who even went trick-or-treating at a bus stop? She slid her earphones in and punched up the volume on her phone to drown out their sing-song requests for cash or chocolate.

  It was Friday night, she’d had an insanely busy week, and normally she’d be staying in town to meet with friends and toast the weekend with a few cocktails. But October was never a good month for Ruby. From the first of the month to Halloween night, she was plagued by strange dreams—some nightmarish, some shockingly erotic—that disturbed her sleep and turned her into a zombie during the day. It made her job as a PA that much harder. She was expected to be on the ball constantly, remembering a million different appointments, conferences, and deadlines a day. When she was low on sleep and good humor, that was a tough call.

  So instead of painting the town red, she was heading home for a warm bath and an early night. She sighed. She was pretty sure she was supposed to be spending her late twenties having crazy adventures and wild love affairs, not going home alone with a microwave moussaka. But she rarely met men who held her interest. There was always something just … not there, no matter how funny, smart, or good-looking they were. Her last date had dismissed her as frigid. She’d dismissed him as just not exciting enough to get the job done. Either way, the end result was the same. Ruby was a long way from a love affair, wild or otherwise.

  The bus ride home was long and it was pitch black by the time she reached her village on the outskirts of the city. There was only one bus stop in the village, a good twenty minute walk from her house. She didn’t mind the walk in the summer, but as autumn and winter drew in, she always felt uneasy. Nothing had ever happened—hell, the last crime committed here was someone putting plastic bottles in the glass recycling bin. But there was something about being alone in the dark that never failed to send shivers down Ruby’s spine. In her nightmares, she was always in the dark – but not always alone.

  She cut down a narrow passageway off the main high street through the village. It would trim a few minutes off the journey home. The passage was long and poorly lit, surrounded on both sides by tall wooden fences and tumbling falls of ivy. She switched off her music and tucked her phone away, wanting to hear anyone else walking this way. Just in case.

  Visions from last night’s nightmares filled her head as she trotted down the alley, fueling her uncharacteristic paranoia. Blood and screaming, witches cackling, fire and smoke… Childish stuff really, she knew. But when she woke alone in the middle of the night, sweating and shaking, they didn’t feel childish. They felt terribly real, horribly close, more like memories than dreams.

  A sound up ahead snapped her from her reverie. A boy shouting. Prickles of apprehension ran down Ruby’s spine. She saw his silhouette at the end of the passage, tall and lanky, blocking her way. She stiffened and kept her pace steady, fumbling in her bag for her keys. She was probably being unfair, assuming he meant trouble, but she still felt better with the keys in her hand. You could do a lot of damage with a set of keys if need be.

  As she got closer, her sense of apprehension turned chill and dark. Another silhouette slid in to join the first, and she heard muted whispers. She wet her lips, heart pounding. She was just a few feet away and the boys weren’t moving.

  “Can I get past please?” she asked, forcing her voice to stay calm and steady.

  One of the boys laughed. “Can I get past please?” he echoed, his own voice high-pitched and quavering, mocking the fear she thought she’d hidden. “Oh, she’s so polite and sweet! A little piggy on her way home.”

  “You can get past, babe,” the other boy said. “But it’ll cost you.”

  “Trick or treat, fatty,” the first boy said. She was close enough now to see he was closer to being a man really, much taller than her. Her throat went dry.

  “What do you want?” she asked.

  “What you got? Money?” The first boy stepped toward her, coming close enough she could smell vodka on his breath.

  She bit her lip until it hurt, weighing her options. She could run back the other way, but they’d probably catch her, if she didn't just trip over her own heels and break an ankle. She could try to bluff her way past, but she doubted it would work, not with them drunk and over-confident already. The easiest thing would be to give them the cash in her purse and hope it was enough. She fished her purse out and handed over the few notes inside.

  The first boy passed it to his companion. His eyes were cold, expression unimpressed. “What else you got?” he asked.

  “That’s it, that’s everything,” Ruby said.

  “Liar.” He snatched her bag, shaking the contents out onto the pavement. Ruby cried out in protest as it all spilled out: her hair brush, her lip gloss, her phone, all those stupid odds and ends she’d stuffed in there, all up for grabs now as the second boy dived down to sift through.

  “Please, don’t,” she said. “You’ve got my money. Let me have my stuff, okay?” It wasn’t that any of it was especially valuable, but it was hers. She reached out unthinkingly and the first boy slapped her hand down.

  “Don’t be stupid,” he warned her.

  “But—” She had no idea what she was going to say. She never got the chance to say it.

  He lunged suddenly, slamming his fist into her ribs. Ruby doubled over with a pained gasp. “Don’t be stupid!” he yelled, and she heard a note of panic in his voice. “Shit. Shit! Just shut up, okay?” He spun to his accomplice. “Just grab the shit and let
’s go.”

  “Ask if she’s got any jewelry,” the other boy said. “This phone is shit.”

  “No, mate, we never said nothing about fucking assault.” The first boy sounded young now, shaken by his own violence.

  It gave her a kind of mad hope. She straightened up, tears in her eyes. Her ribs were on fire and a mix of anger and fear choked her. “Please—”

  “Shut the fuck up!” The second boy reached for her with big, greedy hands.

  Ruby screamed.

  Mist filled the alley, obscuring her vision. The two boys vanished from her sight for a moment, then she heard a savage hiss and a terrified scream. One of the boys bolted past her, pushing her over as he ran. Ruby hit the ground hard, head smacking off the pavement with a sick crack that turned her stomach.

  She thought she heard a deep male voice calling her name, but the world was fading out and nothing felt quite real. She wondered dimly if she had a concussion. Nothing hurt, but she didn’t feel rooted in her body the way she should. That was probably a bad sign, wasn’t it?

  Gentle hands stroked her face and hair. A soft voice whispered in her ear, oddly and achingly familiar. “Be still, Ruby. You’re safe.”

  “She’s hurt, Thomas.”

  “We need to get her home.”

  “She’s too badly hurt for that. If we don’t do something now...”

  “It’s too soon, Will.”

  “We can’t lose her again.”

  The voices drifted out just as Ruby felt she was on the verge of remembering the speakers. But the world was disappearing, falling away and taking the voices with it. Ruby closed her eyes, grateful to let go.

  ****

  She spiraled into strange dreams. She hovered over a dead woman, beaten and bleeding in a muddy lane. The woman was eerily familiar, but Ruby knew she’d never seen her before. Then she was ripped into a black storm, tossed like ocean driftwood. She felt as though she was being torn apart, body from spirit, mind from matter. She screamed and raged, trying to pull herself back together, but cold, invisible hands tore at her. She caught flashes of agonized, skeletal faces sweeping around her, screaming dire, cruel things at her. She shut her eyes, but it was no good. The faces were in her head, the voices were in her mind, and there was no escape except madness.