Page 48 of A Soul's Curse
“I’m sorry, Theo.” Ellie could see the hurt in my eyes, and the softness in her gaze faltered, as if she wanted to reach out but didn’t know how. “Caspian filled me in on what happened with Ren. Warned me to stay away from him.”
“None of this is your fault, Ellie. It’shis. He brought that urn to you. He brought the Syndicate to me. And he … he …” As the anger washed away, it was quickly overtaken by a deep, consuming sadness. “Walk with me? I want to go to the cemetery. Here’s your chance to meet Emily Dickinson.”
Ellie squealed, her ghost vibrating with magical excitement and flickering like a faulty Christmas light. Walking the streets of Salem alone in the middle of the night probably wasn’t my wisest decision ever made, but I wasn’t sure who else to turn to and none of the buses were running this late. Even though it was only a ten-minute walk, Ellie threatened to possess my body if I didn’t pick up my pace to walk faster. She was still struggling, still in pain, but through her cheerful attitude she did her best to hide it from me. Her teasing was a welcome distraction, and when we finally reached the Howard Street Cemetery, the usual crew was waiting there for me. My connection to them let them know they were needed, and like the good friends they were, they showed up.
Ellie zipped over toward Emily, and started gushing hard over the writer, her eyes alight with admiration. “Wow, it’s really you!”
I couldn’t help but smile at her amusement, although the joy didn’t reach my eyes. I didn’t know how much longer Ellie hadbefore her fractured magic was beyond repair. As I stared at her, fear tightened in my chest. She was fading right in front of me, becoming more ghost than woman, more memory than person. Every second I lost felt like another thread of her slipping away, and if I didn’t do something soon, there wouldn’t be anything left to save.
I sat down at my usual spot under the large oak tree. I never typically visited the cemetery at night, and it was certainly a haunting sight. The moon hung high, casting a low, dim light that danced across the crooked gravestones. Ghosts, pale and translucent, drifted aimlessly between the stone markers, their footsteps unheard but their presence undeniable.
“What’s wrong, pal?” Sam Bellamy sat beside me, his long, dark hair flowing in an invisible breeze. The others slowly gathered around me—Lizzie Borden in her high-necked, long-sleeved dress, Sam Adams in his tailored coat and breeches, as well as Emily Dickinson and Ellie.
“He had his heart broken,” Ellie answered for me.
“What?” Confusion crossed Emily’s face. “You still hung up on that arrogant fool … What was his name? Sly?”
“No, this was … someone else. His name was Ren.” My voice was barely a whisper. I bent my knees, hugging them to my chest as I rested my chin on top of them. “I hadn’t known him long, but he just … I don’t know. It happened so fast. I really connected with him, but then he lied to me, betrayed me, and I just feel so …”
“Used?” Surprisingly, it was Lizzie Borden who spoke up.
“Yeah. I opened up to him, let him in, and he shattered that trust like it meant nothing. He really seemed genuine. I thought he might have actually cared about me.” The look on Ren’s face as he crumbled to his knees in the ice cream shop would haunt my memories forever. The sheer devastation in his eyes, the way his hands trembled as if trying to hold on to something alreadylost. It was a kind of pain I almost understood. Almost. But understanding didn’t erase the betrayal, and it didn’t soften the hollow ache in my chest as I turned away from him.
“I get it.” Lizzie bent down on one knee before me, her long dress pooling on the ground. She was the most distant in the group, the hardest to read, but right now it was as if the mask had slipped. Like she saw my pain, recognized it, and understood it better than I did. There was no pity in her gaze, only the quiet weight of someone who had been there before and survived.
“Betrayal cuts deepest when it comes from those you trust,” she said, her voice heavy with empathy. “You want to believe there’s an explanation, a reason that makes it all make sense. But there isn’t. People will smile at you one day and turn their backs on you the next. And the worst part? You’ll still catch yourself missing them. And now you have to decide—Do you let the hurt keep you on your knees, or do you stand up and let them regret ever thinking you were someone they could break?”
“She’s right.” Ellie hesitated, averting her gaze and scratching her arm.
“But?” I wiped a tear slipping down my cheek. “There’s something else you want to say. I know that look.”
“I just … I guess I really wanted to like this guy, too. You weren’t awake when he brought you back to his house after you passed out at the museum. But the way he was so gentle with you, taking care of you like someone who was precious to him … I don’t know. He didn’t have to act that way when no one was looking, and I wanted to believe he meant it.”
“I don’t believe you’re helping the situation.” Emily crossed her arms and narrowed her gaze at Ellie.
“If it makes you feel better,” the pirate’s magic sent a tingle down my spine when he reached for my shoulder, “tell me whereto find him and I’ll possess his body. I’ll walk him right into the harbor and drown him if you want me to.”
A smile threatened to tug at my lips.
“I could have Paul Revere haunt him for the rest of his life,” Sam Adams added. “Paul is a powerful ghost. Ren will never sleep again, and he’ll constantly wake up thinking he’s under attack by the British.”
That time I let out a tired snort. “Thanks, guys. I don’t know what it says about me that all my best friends are dead, but I’m happy you’re here.”
“It’s getting late,” Ellie reminded me. “You should probably get home before the boogie man or some other fairytale creature decides to jump dimensions and make an appearance.”
My heart stopped beating.Home. Where was I going to go? I didn’t want to go back to Ren’s place, not that I thought he’d be waiting for me there. I could head over to Emberheart Place, but in the mood I was in, I didn’t feel up to interacting with people.
“Maybe call your sister?” Emily suggested, as if she could read the thoughts written all over my face. “You always talk fondly of her, and you seem very close. Perhaps she would let you stay the night with her.”
I reached for the phone in my back pocket. Paige worked long, grueling hours as a nurse. She was probably passed out in bed by now, but it was worth a try. I shot her a quick text asking if she was awake. To my surprise, an answer came not more than a few minutes later.
Working the night shift. What’s up?
I typed back my response. Need a place to crash for the night.
Where are you? My shift just ended. You need a ride?
Relief settled inside my chest. I was certain Paige would bombard me with questions later, but she knew me well. She knew something was wrong, and that when I was ready, I’d spill all the juicy details.
