STAIN (My Soul To Wake Book 1) (6 page)

I inch forward on the trunk, literally on the edge of my seat.

“Once the Marquess found out that her lover was cheating on her with her own daughter, she felt betrayed, and banished them both. They went back to England, but still feared her retribution, so they migrated here among the early settlers.”

“It was a love story.” I feel myself getting sappy.

Will shakes his head. “Not exactly….”

Nina and Courtney reappear. “We’ve seen the old scary house. It’s lovely. Can we go now?”

CHAPTER FIVE

“You two have fun.” Nina closes the main door to the hotel behind them as they enter, leaving Will and me standing outside.

They’d grown tired of our kind of sightseeing and asked to be dropped off at the hotel to catch some rest before we head out to the candlelight ghost tour at midnight.

I’m not tired, having already napped after my ordeal with Mamia Magda earlier. Thankfully, Will asked me to grab some food with him.

“Shall we?” He jokingly crooks his arm. I laugh and take it, slipping my wrist through. “How do you feel about frozen yogurt for dinner?”

“I say you’ve read my mind.”

~*~

“How’s yours?” he asks as we sit on the half stone wall, each with a plastic spoon in hand.

“Delicious. Yours?” I speak with a half-f mouth of melting dessert.

He takes another bite of his own. “Really good.”

I swirl my neon pink spoon in the puddle of melted fudge. “So… that thing that you were talking about before, the three thing. The Triad.”

“Um hmm…” I can see him struggling against brain freeze.

“Remember when I told you I couldn’t go to the museum this morning? Well, it was because I got dragged along to a psychic reading instead. It was really weird.”

He lowers his cup. “Weird how?” He seems genuinely interested.

I hope he doesn’t change his opinion of me after he hears this.

“I don’t know. I think it was a scam maybe. But… there was something about three.”

He’s quiet. I imagine he’s planning some emergency or forgotten appointment that he needs to skip off to, leaving the crazy psychic visiting girl alone with her yogurt.

“Well… the number three is a very influential number. It’s prevalent in almost everything. A perfect balance, a triangle, has three points. Each season has three months. There are three phases to life… birth, life, death. Some people even manipulate this. Darker magic takes a variation. 666. They double the number to 6, but there are three of them.”

I finish another spoonful of yogurt. “You know a lot about this.”

He holds his hand outstretched, waving it, showcasing the buildings in front of us. “I live in Salem, Massachusetts. It’s kind of hard
not
to know these things around here.”

I laugh at his explanation. “True, true.” Another spoonful as my dessert is melting. “So do you think it was weird?”

I see his lips purse as he swallows his yogurt. “Depends. Which psychic did you see?”

“Mamia Magda. In the white house.”

His eyes widen. “She’s pretty legit. Around these parts, every corner has some type of psychic. But she’s authentic. Did she scare you?”

I roll my eyes. “A bit. But I think I scared her more.”

Now he’s curious. I see him wanting to ask more about the reading, so I change the subject quickly. “Tell me more about the love story. Malcolm and Marcelle.”

He’s finished with his food, so he sets his almost empty cup down beside him and leans back. “Where did I leave off?”

“They came to America to be together.”

He nods. “Right. Well they came to America, all right. But not exactly together. Marcelle left her mother quickly, with nothing but her slave girl Josephine. She was almost penniless. Malcolm wasn’t about to live as a pauper. So he convinced her it would be better to live apart. More of his manipulations.”

My eyes widen. So this isn’t a love story after all.

“He found a wealthy woman destined to be a spinster. Charmed her just as he did the Marquess de les Songe. They married and he gained all of her wealth, her dowry. Her father was wealthy, powerful in a non-magical way. But she didn’t satisfy him. I don’t think a person like that was capable of love, but what he felt for Marcelle was the closest he could come to it.”

Okay. Back to a love story. I’m getting whiplash.

“Marcelle didn’t have the powers her mother did, but she knew the ways. One of the things she’d mastered was something called Transposition. She could switch places with another. Not just take over another person, but actually physically switch places all together. At night, when Malcolm’s wife had fallen asleep, Marcelle would transpose with her, taking her place in Malcolm’s bed. Where the other woman was Malcolm’s wife in name, Marcelle was his wife in body.”

I also finish my dessert and stack it into Will’s cup, lifting my knee to the bench to  allow me to face him completely. I haven’t been this intrigued in a very long time.

He also turns, facing me as we sit cross kneed in front of each other. “Well, of course she got pregnant. Knowing that her baby would face endless persecution and ridicule as well as being shamed the bastard child of a sinner, Marcelle did the only thing she could think to do. She begged Malcolm to take the child and raise it as his own with his wife.”

I inhale deeply and raise my hands to cover my mouth. “No!! How heartbreaking!”

Will can see that I’m terribly shocked. His hand settles on my knee.

“Twin girls were born, both healthy. One blonde as straw. One raven haired. Malcolm took them to his wife who had longed for a child. The dark-haired baby had a mark, a beauty mark. To the wife, this was surely a devil’s token. So she agreed to take only the blonde baby. She named her Elizabeth.”

“The dark-haired baby was given back to Marcelle to raise. And she was right. Stigma and ridicule followed them both. But, they had a deep bond. A true unconditional love that helped the girl become pure hearted, innocent. She was as beautiful on the outside as she was on the inside.”

I feel the tears welling. This is a tragedy. One of the saddest stories I’ve ever heard. I feel a hitch in my throat as I try to speak. “That poor mother. I-I.…”

Will can see how visibly affected I‘ve become. “Let’s finish the story another time. It’ll give us a point to pick up tomorrow. For now, let’s walk around a bit before I bring you back to the hotel.”

~*~

We stopped at an old bookstore and a candle shop while walking the dusk hued streets of Salem on our way back to the hotel. I carry the small brown paper shopping bag with the lavender scented candle that I’d bought for my mom in one hand and the warm cup of tea Will had ordered for me at the bookstore in the other.

The temperature has dropped about five degrees from our frozen yogurt break, and the tea helps to keep the chill away.

“Getting cold?” he asks, with some sort of coffee concoction of his own being brought to his lips.

I shrug. “Not really. But I’ll probably change before I take that tour later.”

He sips long and hard on his Styrofoam cup. Very carefully his free arm swings itself to rest on my shoulders, bringing me in closer to his warmth. My heart pounds against my chest as our bodies touch.

“Better?” He asks.

I grin. “Much.”

We finish our caffeinated drinks in silence, walking the old cobblestones streets. Those who pass us smile. I have yet to come across an unfriendly person in this quaint little town.

The moment is perfect. The deep purple and orange swirls in the low setting sky, the tiniest of chill in the air to bring us together. Even the sound of our steps along the natural road below. I’ve never had a moment like this before… where I wasn’t worrying about what the next would bring.

Will’s cell phone shatters the slice of perfection. He tosses his emptied cup into a nearby public metal wastebasket and checks the screen. I see him hesitating while staring at it. I can’t help but dart my eyes over to quickly read the letters.

Liza.

The same heart that was nervously pounding moments before at his touch is now sinking fast at the very feminine name on his phone. My shoulders stiffen.

“Hey, Liza,” he calls into the air around the receiver as his phone is placed in that nook by his ear.

I can hear a muffled vibration, but no words are clear. I find my mind wandering, assigning imaginary meaning behind them. A girlfriend perhaps? Had I completely misjudged him? Is he the kind of guy to be in a relationship and then hang out with a girl on the side?

We hadn’t done anything that could technically be considered cheating, but I know I’d be damn pissed if I had a boyfriend who was getting chummy with another woman.

I can feel Will holding back on his end of the conversation with the woman. This only reinforces my unease.

“We’ll talk about this later, Liza. I’m on a date.” He breaks his silence.

I’m thrown for a complete 180.
He’s on a date
. Unless he’s a fool, no way would he tell a girlfriend that he’s on a date. It would be like signing your own death warrant. I feel foolish now for jumping to assumptions. It’s 2015. Of course he can have a female friend that isn’t a girlfriend. Hell, I have male friends that aren’t boyfriends, so I guess that’s the same sort of thing.

Given the fact that I’ve never had a boyfriend at all is irrelevant, I convince myself. I still have male friends. And they aren’t boyfriends… so it fits the bill.

My shoulders relax once again, and his arm tightens to bring me back into the hollow of his side.

“I don’t know. I’ll ask her.” I can feel him eyeing me as he speaks that last bit to
Liza
. I finish my tea while eavesdropping on is end of the conversation. “Maybe. No promises, okay? How’s Moose?”

He nods his head silently at the woman’s reply. A few more words on her end are spoken. “Thanks again, Liza. Just leave him with a bone before you leave. I’ll be home in a while anyway so he’ll be fine.”

He tucks his phone in to his pocket and we play an awkward game of silence. I don’t want to be the first to ask about this mysterious woman Liza, showing stereotypical female jealousy, just as I’m sure he doesn’t know how to bring the topic up.

I take the last of the tea in one sip, the lemon residue that settled on the bottom adds a tartness to my mouth.

“Moose?” I ask, totally sidestepping the Liza topic.

I hear Will exhale relief at the direction of the conversation, as well as feel his chest loosen. I hadn’t realized it was tensed until then.

“My beast. Well, he’s really just a mutt… but don’t tell him that.” He laughs. I join in.

I knew it! I knew he must have a dog! Something about him just screams dog lover. I spotted it a mile away.

“I usually take him everywhere with me. Even to work. A friend stopped by to check on him at my place till I get back.”

I can see the tall outline of the angular hotel coming into view. The closer we get, I find myself dreading it, and the goodbye that naturally comes with it.

“I love dogs! What kind?” I angle my chin up to him.

His eyes are playful, cheeks a bit reddened from the coolness around us. “Mostly shepherd, I think. Some lab maybe. I found him wandering around as a pup. No tags, no collar. I fed him and he never left my side after.”

I sigh. “I always wanted a dog. My mom’s allergic. And once I moved on my own, I wasn’t home enough to take care of one.”

“Me either, really. Moose comes to work with me every day. Sleeps in the bed of the truck. Runs around. Gets into trouble.” He shakes his head, no doubt thinking of some of the memories of that trouble he’s alluding to.

The letters on the hotel awning are now readable.

“I wish I could do that. I think the board of health would have a thing or two to say about it though.” I fantasize about bringing my own imaginary pet with me to the coffee shop. “Can I meet him?”

Will smiles, flashing his beautifully white teeth. “Anytime you want. Maybe after the museum tomorrow?”

I find myself beaming at the plan. “Great! I’ll get him a bone or a toy or something.” And out of nowhere, this comes out, “Unless your friend Liza has that covered.”

Why the hell did I say that! I instantly regret it.

I see him lick his lips nervously, although his hand doesn’t budge from its perch around my neck. “She’s an old friend. More like family. Moose isn’t a fan of hers, though.” He pauses as we step onto the sidewalk of the hotel. “Actually… she wants to meet you.”

My eyes widen as we face each other. I can see him reading my expression.

“I know you’re not here for long, and I’m sure we can think of better things to do, but deep down… she’s a good person.” That’s an interesting choice of words to describe a friend.

“We’ll see.” I offer. “This place,” I look around at the bit of Salem before me, “is full of surprises.”

I hear him clear his throat. He steps closer, and I feel the height difference as never before. I angle my chin to reach. He lowers his. The deep pools of dark honey in his eyes consume me. I struggle to hide the effect he’s having on me, doing my best to appear normal and in control.

His lips.

The plumpness of them now closer than ever, just in line with my sight. I feel my throat dry, my mouth next, and I beg myself to swallow but find that I can’t.

“I had a really good time today, Leah.” His voice is husky. It rattles and vibrates through the air between us like a powerful engine.