Soul Bound (24 page)

Read Soul Bound Online

Authors: Mari Mancusi

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Fiction, #Girls & Women, #Horror

He presses his lips against my forehead with such tenderness
I can barely stand it. “How could I not fall in love with you? You’ve brought me more happiness than I ever thought possible. And besides.” He quirks his mouth into a grin. “I know you. And I know you won’t take no for an answer.”

I crawl back into his arms, wishing there was a way to burrow inside of him. I want to memorize every touch. Every caress. Save it all deep in my heart until the time I can feel it again.

Because I know he’s right. We’re bound together by a force stronger than time itself. And there is nothing in the universe—on Earth or in Hades itself—that has the power to break us apart.

“My little soldier,” Jareth soothes, stroking my hair with gentle fingers. “You fought so hard. It’s now time to go and accept your victory.”

“I’ll find you again,” I gurgle against his warm chest. “I’ll make you love me. Even if I have to hit you over the head with a brick!”

“I have no doubt,” he replies. Then he kisses me.

Our very last kiss.

At least for now…

Epilogue
 

Sunny

 


S
unny! Rayne! Are you two still in bed? It’s almost time for school!”

I rub my eyes groggily, confused at the sound of my mother’s voice waking me from my slumber. Is this some kind of dream? I sit up in bed and look around.

Oh yes, definitely a dream. I’m back in my old bed at home in Oakridge, Massachusetts. My familiar posters still on the walls and the patchwork quilt, made by my fake grandma down in Florida, folded at the end of my bed. (Or was it made by my actual fairy grandmother and Mom fudged the truth?) In any case, this particular blanket is long gone by now in real life.

And I’m long gone, too. Stuck in Hades for eternity. Unless my sister can pull me out somehow.

My mother sticks her head into the room. She’s wearing
some kind of long, colorful hemp skirt and peasant blouse, just like she used to before becoming Queen of the Fairies. I smile. What a lovely dream. Life as it used to be. Nice and normal.

“Sunny! Get up, now!” she commands. “You’re going to be late for school!”

“Yes, Mom,” I say agreeably, rolling out of bed, enjoying the feel of my favorite Victoria’s Secret flannel pajamas against my skin. I look out the window and see blue skies and sunshine and I yawn, hoping I don’t wake up too soon and spoil the rest of this beautiful dream day.

Mom nods, satisfied she’s woken me, then heads out of my room, presumably to wake up my sister. A moment later I hear a scream. What the—? I run into Rayne’s room. She’s got her covers pulled up to her chin and she’s staring at Mom with wide, frightened eyes.

“Oh my God, it worked! It really worked!” she’s babbling over and over again.

“What worked?” I ask curiously. Her gaze swaps to me and she leaps out of bed and throws her arms around me. She’s dressed in her Emily the Strange nightgown and, I realize she still has blond hair, like before she dyed it. We’re identical twins, all over again. This dream gets better and better.

“Whoa! Watch the smothering sister love!” I protest, pushing her away. But she clings on tight. From the corner of my eye I can see Mom roll her eyes.

“The bus will be here in fifteen minutes,” she announces. “I suggest you both get dressed.” And with that, she walks out of the room.

“Ohmigod, ohmigod!” Rayne cries, bouncing on the bed with excitement. “I can’t believe it. It’s crazy!”

“What are you talking about?” I ask, starting to get a little annoyed.

“Don’t you remember? Oh, please say you remember! At the very least I need you to know what’s going on!”

“Remember what?”

She swallows hard. “Hades,” she whispers.

“Well, of course I remember. I’m still there, right? I mean, this is just a dream.”

“No, Sunny, it’s no dream. We’ve been given a second chance.”

“Wait, what?” I stare at her with a growing feeling of horror creeping into my bones. “What are you talking about?”

“Hades wouldn’t free your soul. But he agreed to send us back in time. Before any of this happened.” Rayne dashes to her computer. “See, it’s April fifteenth.”

My jaw drops to the floor. “April fifteenth…” I look at the calendar she’s pulled up, swallowing hard as my eyes catch the year. “Oh my God.”

“One month and one week before prom,” she announces solemnly. “And…”

“One month before that night at Club Fang,” I realize with growing dread. “One month before Magnus bites me by mistake.” I stare at her, the implications of her words hitting me hard and fast.

He doesn’t know me. He’s never met me. He’s never fallen in love with me…

Terror seizes my heart, squeezing it tight. “Oh, Rayne,” I cry, looking at my sister with horrified eyes. “What have you done?”

“I’ve given you a second chance,” she says stoutly, crossing her arms over her chest. “A chance to choose your destiny once and for all. Are you ready to take it?”

I swallow back the bile rising to my throat. I guess I’d better be.

~ TO BE CONTINUED ~

Turn the page for a special excerpt
from the next Blood Coven Vampire novel…

B
LOOD
F
OREVER

 

Coming soon from
The Berkley Publishing Group!

I
resist the nearly irresistible urge to reach up under my black and red-trimmed corset to give my belly button a good solid scratch. Seriously, I don’t know how the heck Rayne wears this Goth stuff everyday of the week. It is so majorly uncomfortable, what with the thick black lace rubbing my armpits raw and the corset bones digging into my waist, making it nearly impossible to take in a full breath. And that’s not even mentioning the smoosh factor going on with my already admittedly small breasts. Seriously, give me a pair of Old Navy boot-cut jeans, tank top, and flip-flops any day of the week, thank you very much. Sure, they may not qualify me to rock a runway, but at least I’m able to take advantage of my full lung capacity.

But unfortunately tonight my own “uniform” just won’t cut it. Not if I want to fool the vampires down at Blood Coven University
into thinking I’m my twin sister, that is. Rayne wouldn’t be caught dead in jeans, which means that I must suffer through the agony and humiliation of sneaking out of the house in full-on Goth gear, complete with fluffy tulle skirt, ripped fishnets, and black boots with six-inch platform soles, all dug out of her jam-packed black-on-black-on-black closet.

I know, I know. I shouldn’t be doing this. And Rayne would freaking kill me if she found out I was. (Even before she learned it was in her clothes.) After all, the whole point behind this life “do-over” my sister arranged with the Lord of the Underworld was designed to give us the opportunity to go back to living a normal, vampire-free life. And if Rayne—the girl who loves vampires more than anything in the universe—is able to simply walk away from her vampire-in-training class, what the heck am I doing, choosing to attend in her stead?

But let’s be honest here; what would
you
do if you had the opportunity to catch a glimpse of your true love one last time? Could you just walk away—go see a movie instead? Yeah, I don’t think so. And hey, it’s not like I’m going to go make out with the guy and declare my eternal devotion or anything. I’m just going to gaze upon him, quietly, from across the room. Take one last, longing look before I go back to my pathetic, normal, Magnus-free life, forever.

Besides, it’s not like I could do any more than that, even if I wanted to. This Magnus, the one who exists in this time period, doesn’t think of me as his girlfriend. He’s not in love with me. He doesn’t want to be with me. And, if we do happen to cross paths, he’s just going to assume I’m my sister. So no big deal.

Except, of course, it kind of is. It’s kind of the biggest deal ever.

No.
I shake my head.
I won’t go there
. What we’re doing is for the best. Like my sister said, if I never befriend Magnus, we’ll never end up together. He’ll never have to make the choice between the Blood Coven and me and thus none of the badness that has happened over the last year will happen. I won’t die. He won’t be tried for treason. And the Blood Coven won’t be kicked out of the Consortium. Everyone will live happily ever after.

And I’m totally down for all that to happen. After I get my one last look.

The vampire-in-training class is being held right outside Saint Patrick’s Cemetery—just a few blocks from the Blood Coven HQ, not that I’m supposed to know that. The location of the vampire crypt is strictly classified until you become a full-blooded member. So instead they hold classes in a nearby former church, which seems a totally weird option, until you learn that this particular church has been long ago de-holy-ized and put out of official commission. Meaning the ground is no longer hallowed and perfectly fine and safe for vampire feet to walk over.

I head up the wooden front steps and through the front door, resisting the urge to roll my eyes at some of Rayne’s fellow vampire-in-training classmates who are standing outside smoking. I mean, hello? Could you be any more stereotypical if you tried? Every single one of them is dolled up in their Gothy best, complete with black (and/or hot pink) hair, pancake-white
makeup, and an inordinate amount of piercings. Seriously, doesn’t anyone outside the Goth scene want to become a vampire anymore? I mean, you’d think with the whole
Twilight
phenomenon we’d get a few Bellas out here at the very least.

“Name, please?”

I glance down at the bored-looking receptionist sitting at a card table just inside the front door. My eyes widen as I realize it’s none other than Marcia herself, Magnus’s former secretary. Of course right now, I guess, she’s his future secretary, still working for Lucifent, who’s currently Master of the Blood Coven. It’s not ’til Bertha slays Lucifent and Magnus takes over his leadership gig that she starts working for her new boss. (This time-travel stuff can be very confusing even if you are paying attention.)

“Um, are you deaf?” she demands, her face twisting into a scowl. “I said, what is your name?”

Yup. She’s exactly the same. I bite back a frown, pinning my arms to my sides so as to avoid my hands reaching out and involuntarily strangling that haughty look right off her face. Bitch. After all, it’s because of her that Pyrus learned of our secret location under the streets of New York City. Because of her that I’m dead in the future. But what can I do? Accuse her of a crime she’s yet to commit? That’ll be sure to go off well. And besides, seeing as she’s a vampire and I’m just a puny mortal, I admit I might have a tough time cutting off her air supply using nothing more than my bare hands.

Gotta live and let live, I suppose. At least for now.

“S—I mean Rayne McDonald,” I reply instead, trying my
best to sound as bored as she. She scans her list and checks me off, snapping her gum in an apparent effort to let me know how insignificant I am to her existence. If only she knew.

“You can go and sit over there,” she informs me, pointing a perfectly manicured finger to the left side of the church, where another group of Goths have congregated. Across the aisle, I notice a much more mainstream crowd hanging out chatting. The vampires themselves, I realize. Unlike their trying-too-hard mortal trainees, the vampires are dressed casually. Jeans, T-shirts, sundresses… and… I do a double-take… is that really the same pink BITE ME tank top I ended up wearing on that fateful trip to Club Fang? The one that started all the trouble in the first place? I remember Rayne telling me she borrowed it off some vampire she met in training…

As I make my way over to the mortal section, I suddenly catch a glimpse of a door at the front of the church swinging open. I stop in my tracks, my heart skipping a beat, as a lone vampire steps out into the sanctuary.

Magnus.

My world spins off its axis as I watch him stop and stand just behind the altar, scanning the room with disinterested eyes. He looks bored, a little annoyed, and totally and utterly hot. My mind treats me to a vivid flashback of that first night we met at Club Fang. He was dressed in simple but elegant Armani, just like today, and I remember thinking he looked exactly like Orlando Bloom from the first
Pirates
movie, with his shoulder-length chestnut-colored hair tied back with a simple leather strap.

Tonight his hair hangs free, falling into his elfin eyes, brushing against his perfectly sculpted cheekbones and ending just short of his sensuous mouth. Suddenly I find myself unable to think of anything else in the world except for him taking me into his arms and pressing those full, soft lips against my own with a reverence and worship I’ve never fully deserved.

Oh Magnus
… I find myself stepping forward, my heart aching in my chest.
Oh my love…

He turns, raking a hand through his hair and clearing it from his face. His gaze locks onto mine, his eyes zeroing in on my own. I swallow hard and find myself giving him a small, hopeful wave and smile. But instead of smiling back—instead of his eyes lighting up as they fall upon my face, he merely raises a perfectly arched eyebrow, his beautiful lips curling into a small sneer as he gives me a critical once-over before turning away.

My heart plummets as reality comes crashing back down on me. He doesn’t know me. He doesn’t love me. All he can see is some stupid overdressed vampire wannabe stranger, just like the rest, making googly eyes at him from across the room. Ugh. What possessed me to dress like my sister tonight? I’ve only succeeded in repulsing my own boyfriend with a tacky outfit that isn’t even me.

Which is a good thing
, I try to remind myself. The last thing I want is for him to be attracted to me when I’m supposed to stay far, far away.

But still, it hurts. Especially as I watch him watch him walk over to one of the other vampires—the girl in the Bite Me tank—and whisper something in her ear. She turns and looks
over in my direction, chuckling. Are they really making fun of me? My face burns in a mixture of embarrassment and fury.

Other books

Riding Class by Bonnie Bryant
Catch the Lightning by Catherine Asaro
Eisenhower by Newton, Jim
The Stranglers Honeymoon by Hakan Nesser
The Magic of You by Johanna Lindsey
A Debt Paid by Black, Joslyn
A Bouquet of Barbed Wire by Andrea Newman
Cambodian Hellhole by Stephen Mertz