A surge of guilt and self-hate rushed through him as he thought about the argument they’d had. He knew the work she did would put her at greater risk of being accused, but he hadn’t forced her to quit. When he’d overheard someone talking about her, it was like all the air had been forced from his lungs. He had to get her out of there, but he couldn’t risk doing it during the daylight hours. If they were going to have any hope of getting out of there before the witch hunters came for her, it would have to be under the cover of night.
His mind played back the argument they’d had when he informed her they’d be leaving their small village for good; his wife didn’t understand why he wanted to leave so suddenly. He refused to answer, telling her they were going and that was final. It was the first, and last, time he’d ever issued her an order. Despite all that had happened over the past couple of years, he knew she still held faith everything would be fine. Each time he’d expressed concern over administering those cures, she waved it off, fingering the little cross she wore around her neck. She truly believed she’d be protected; that God had a plan for her. He didn’t share her faith, and it frustrated him. Once darkness fell and most were in bed, he told her to wait for him a minute. He was going to check to make sure the coast was clear and then they would be on their way. To his horror, before he could get too far, he heard the sound of her screaming and some people yelling. Next thing he knew, a group of men came up behind him, pointing weapons at him.
For hours, they’d done everything to get him to confess to all the evil things they believed she did. He refused, not caring what they did to him. He wasn’t about to let them force a false confession out of him, like he’d heard of them doing to others. He gritted his teeth through the pain and kept silent, refusing to say a single word to condemn her.
Despite his efforts, he failed and was now being forced to see just how badly he’d done so. He watched as she was brought to the post and tied up, wanting to look away but knowing he couldn’t. Even if he wasn’t being forced to watch, he couldn’t be a coward. It was only right that he shared her punishment in some way before facing his own. He was far more deserving of it than she was. Two more people joined the one who’d tied Maria to the post, each holding a torch. One of them held an extra that was handed off to the third. The flames ignited around her, and her screams pierced the air along with the smell of burning flesh and wood. The sounds and smells were overwhelming, but he refused to betray a single ounce of the pain it caused him—they’d take far too much pleasure in it.
* * *
“I did everything I could to try and keep you safe from them. It just wasn’t enough.” His voice caught in his throat as he finished the story. If he was lying about this, he was a far better actor than anyone in Hollywood could ever dream of being. The pain and guilt radiated off of him.
The two stood in silence for several minutes. Fiona was shocked by what he said; none of her dreams or visions showed her that much. How could such important information be held back? She decided that was something she needed to figure out later. She reached for his hand and took it in her own, feeling the warmth and clamminess of his palm. “When I asked if you knew the whole time, you didn’t really answer me. So, did you?”
He nodded. “When I saw you at Jeremy’s party, I thought you looked familiar. I just wasn’t sure from where. The feeling got stronger the later it got so I had to talk to you...that’s when all these memories hit me and I realized who you were. I just didn’t want to tell you the truth because I didn’t know if you’d remember or not—if you’d blame me for what happened.”
She couldn’t help but laugh at that; he really did know her well—more than she even knew herself. “Sorry… I shouldn’t have laughed.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He smiled, “I guess I did call that one pretty well.” His tone grew more serious as he looked her in the eyes. “I’m sorry; I should’ve told you everything sooner.”
She nodded. “You should’ve.” She couldn’t help but be a little angry about that—it might’ve saved a lot of hassle and worry had he just been honest with her sooner. Then again, she was one to talk. She’d been holding back just as much as he had.
He lightly stoked her hand with his thumb, looking her in the eye. “Do you think we could start over?”
An image of Alice Rose running alone into the night with a couple of small bags ran through her mind. She couldn’t help but remember the argument that followed. The more Fiona thought about it, the more she realized just how much that one day centuries before shaped her without her even knowing it. She’d been convinced he’d betrayed her, and she’d never let go of that. Every time they came across each other, she must’ve subconsciously felt like he was going to let her down. That must’ve been why Alice Rose was so quick to do the same to Charles.
“I’d like that.” The simple phrase had a powerful effect on them. The second the words were spoken, it was as if a huge weight were lifted from both their shoulders. Fiona couldn’t believe how freeing it was to let go of the hurt that had been boiling under the surface for centuries.
Chapter Seventeen
“Well? What happened?”
Fiona was sitting in Amy’s room again. It had been several weeks since she’d met with Ted and learned what had happened during the witch trials, and she’d spent almost no time with her best friend since. She was too busy spending time with Ted.
Fiona felt terrible about that, so she told him she wasn’t going to be able to go out later. Instead, she was spending her Friday night here; it was the first sleepover they’d had in years. They’d grown out of that in junior high, but Amy had invited her anyway. They had a lot to catch up on, and Fiona knew it would be safe to talk there since no one would be around to overhear.
“I don’t know if even you’ll believe this one.”
Amy laughed. “Try me. I’m going crazy here. I mean, one second you’re terrified of the guy and ready to run the other way, and the next you’re with him all the time.”
Fiona smiled as she glanced around the room at the crystals hanging from the window and the cards sitting on one of the shelves. “All right.” She reached up, absentmindedly playing with the small ring hanging from her necklace. He’d given it to her the night before, and she loved it. It had a neat pattern on it; one that reminded her of the symbols she’d painted on her shirt. It was strange how some things were starting to make sense. The nightmares had stopped, too. She almost felt human again.
“He came by the house one night while I was taking out the trash…” Fiona began telling her friend the whole story. By the time she was done, Amy’s mouth hung open. The girl appeared to be at a loss for words for one of the only times Fiona could remember.
“That is so weird. You really believe it all?” The shock was wearing off, and now Amy was in concerned-friend mode.
Fiona nodded and played with the frayed edge of one of Amy’s pillows, winding it around her finger. “I do. I just can’t figure out why I wasn’t getting more of the story all along. I mean, really, is it too much to ask?”
Amy laughed. “Maybe we can drop by tomorrow and find out; I’ve been wanting to go and get a couple new crystals I saw in a book I was reading. You in?”
Fiona nodded. “Sounds like a plan to me.”
* * *
The next afternoon, Fiona followed Amy into the shop. To her surprise, Beatrice was sitting at the counter instead of in back. The woman smiled at her as Fiona approached the counter.
“You look like you’re feeling better.”
“I am.” Fiona looked around the small store. “Are you able to talk a minute? I don’t usually see you out here.”
“My brother was supposed to be in today, but he had to cancel at the last second.” Beatrice’s gaze settled on Amy. “What’s your friend’s name?”
“Don’t you know?” Fiona couldn’t help teasing a little.
Beatrice gave her a mock-offended look and shook her head. “Not if she’
s not coming in for a reading, I don’t. I never read someone unless they’ve asked.”
“Oh. It’s Amy,” she replied before turning toward her friend. “Amy!”
Amy turned around and gave Beatrice a ‘who me?’ look. Beatrice waved her over. “I want to ask you a favor.”
Amy set down the crystal and glanced at Fiona with one eyebrow raised, clearly wondering what her friend had gotten her into. “What is it?”
“You mind keeping an eye out for me while I talk to your friend a minute? If anyone comes in, just let them know I’ll be out as soon as I finish. I don’t think this will take long.”
Amy’s eyes lit up as she nodded eagerly. “Sure, no problem.”
Fiona bit her lip to keep from laughing. Her friend looked like they used to when they were kids and their parents let them pick out whatever toy they wanted from the store for their birthdays. Beatrice nodded her thanks and walked Fiona into the back room.
“So, what can I do for you?”
Fiona hesitated a moment before taking a seat on the couch, trying to get all the questions clear in her head. She was still confused by a lot. Mostly, she wondered how she’d gotten some things so wrong. “I guess what I was wondering is where’d I go wrong? I was doing all that stuff you said, and I got a lot of answers, but I was completely off on so much of it. I mean, why didn’t it show me what really happened?”
“Because you never asked.” Beatrice sat down beside her and studied her a minute before continuing, “I don’t think you were ready to yet. There’s something you could learn from that. Keep that in mind.”
Fiona raised an eyebrow, confused. “What does that mean?”
“You’ll see; just keep working at it.”
Fiona sighed. “You really don’t like making things easy, do you?” Her words were partly a joke.
Beatrice didn’t seem offended. Instead of giving her a nasty look, the woman laughed and shrugged. “It’s not supposed to be easy. You’re still learning. We all are—that’s the whole point.” She stood and motioned to the door. “I’d better get back to work now, but you stop by any time, you hear me?”
“I will.” Fiona returned the hug and followed Beatrice out of the room as she contemplated the woman’s words. She didn’t know if Beatrice meant to or not, but it was almost as if she were trying to tell Fiona something without really telling her. As the thought crossed her mind, she felt a knot form in her stomach.
* * *
Fiona Stevens looked around the room she’d shared with her sister and bit her lip, fighting back a momentary panic. Most of the things in it were boxed up, her luggage in a pile in the corner. It was amazing; eleven years in school had dragged on for what seemed like an eternity and the last one was over in what felt like an instant. Where had it gone?
That morning, she and Ted would be leaving behind the small town Fiona had called home and making the trip up to Lockhart. Of course, they wouldn’t be making the trip together—her parents insisted on going with her to help her unload her stuff and make sure she was set up properly.
While that was the excuse they’d given her, Fiona couldn’t help but wonder if they were actually more interested in making sure she was settling into a dorm room instead of an apartment somewhere with Ted. She couldn’t help but smile and shake her head at the thought—it was like they were getting more protective the closer she came to moving out.
After making a final check to ensure she hadn’t forgotten to pack anything important, she walked downstairs to eat her last breakfast at home. Won’t be long now. A surge of excitement flowed through her as she headed for the kitchen. Whatever was waiting for her in her new home, she was ready for it—especially since she wouldn’t be facing it alone.
About the Author
Jamie White is an author, blogger, pop culture lover, music addict, and photo geek. She also moonlights as a pet servant. When she’s not busy with the #writerlife, she’s spending time with her husband and their cats, singing, meditating, chanting, reading, or taking walks.
Author’s note:
Thanks for taking the time to read Stains on the Soul. This was my first series, and I’m excited to have it back in the hands of readers. If you want to keep up with future installments and other projects, please consider joining my street team or newsletter—they’ll be getting all the scoops first, plus some extra content as the muse gives it to me.
Also, if you feel moved to do so, please consider leaving a review. I’d love to hear what people think.
Also by Jamie White
The Life and Times of No One in Particular
Lyrical Muse
A Place Where I Belong
Learning Me (Lightworker Series, Book One)
Exploring Me (Lightworker Series, Book Two)
Rebuilding Me (Lightworker Series, Book Three)
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