Enflame: Web of Hearts and Souls #9 (Insight series Book 6)

Copyright © 2010 Jamie Magee

Smashwords Edition

All Rights Reserved

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the author.

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EDGE SERIES READING ORDER

Alphas Rise

Dark Lure

Sacred Betrayal 

Risen Lovers

Fall of Kings

Queens Rise

COMBINED WEB OF HEARTS AND SOULS READING ORDER:

Insight

Embody

Image

Whispers of the Damned

Witness

Vital

Vindicate

Synergy

Enflame

Redefined

Rivulet

Imperial

Blakeshire

Derive

Emanate

Exaltation*

Disavow

The Witches

Revolt

Scorched Souls

*If you are a fan of Adult Paranormal Edge can be read with the Web of Hearts, before of after Exaltation--the stories share the same characters.

INSIGHT READING ORDER:

Insight

Embody

Image

Vital

Vindicate

Enflame

Rivulet

Imperial

Blakeshire (Drake's Story)

Emanate

Exaltation

Disavow

SEE READING ORDER:

Whispers of the Damned 

Witness of a Broken Heart

Synergy of Souls

Redefined Love Affair 

Derive (Aden's Beginning)

A Lovers Revolt 

Scorched Souls

CONTEMPORARY NOVELS

Deploy

Disengaged

Impulsion

Friction

"The most powerful weapon on earth is the human soul on fire."

Ferdinand Foch

For all those that fan the flame of my writing passion...

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter One

Fear has to be the most paralyzing emotion we face in the course of life. When shock seals you inside of it, you’re stripped of emotion; you march on until reality slaps you. Trepidation causes you to hesitate, or turn in circles; it’s a moving cage you hold the key to. Grief feels like a heavy fog you’re adrift within. Fear is a different beast. There are a million and counting forms of fear, it begins somewhere south of the attribute most call ‘shy’ and then explodes forward landing on the north side of petrified. At its peak fear reminds you how small you are in this universe. It reminds you that some things are out of your control. You have two choices when this happens. You can be humbled, or angry. I’m leaning toward latter. More than anything I’m determined to make all the insane things that I’ve seen, that have happened to me, that I’ve heard of, work in my favor.

Even if that means bringing back the dead.

I refused to believe Dane and Clarissa were dead. I saw them both in the string hours ago, long after the time the paper Landen had read said they’d died. Nothing beyond them not wanting to come home struck me as odd. They were made of flesh, strong and vital, full of living emotion, intent, and truth.

I kept waiting for Landen to tell me a lore I didn’t know. For him to say here ‘dead’ means this because of this...or for him to say this was a cover story, something he had in place to fool someone somewhere.

It was Landen’s emotion that kept forcing me to notice the blatant reality that I’d lost my best friend and that he’d lost his sister.

Rain began to fall as I thought of how I never let myself fully mourn for Monica, how I knew it would rip me apart and I couldn’t afford to be weak. I loved Monica, but Dane...he was my everything. He got me in ways I still don’t get. He’d already been through hell when he was possessed and now this? I saw his mom in my mind, his entire family. I couldn’t fathom them ever knowing he was gone. He was gone and one way or another it was my fault.

When the rain became a downpour Landen abruptly leaned me against an aged stonewall that surrounded a historic home. His lips fiercely found mine, and in that instant a distraction was given to me. I pushed against him at first; this was the wrong action at the wrong time. What was he thinking? For all I knew something was twisted in his head, but then I felt his intent. He knew my emotions were linked to the weather. He knew the only time I ever let my mind hush, listen to nothing, was when I felt him against me, when I felt our ancient vibration and knew though I may not know how, I’d not only survive what my mind was feverously working through, I’d be stronger for it.

As my lips moved with his I became hungry for this new hum I felt inside of him. I know Landen in ways no other soul will. Yet I scarcely know all of him. He was miles deep full of secrets I chose not to know.

So was I.

I only wanted to know and be accountable for what I’d done in my nineteen years of life. Every time I tried to go back and understand who I was in another life it did more harm than good. More so, I never like who I once was.

They’d told me, Draven—all of them, the realm ripped you open. It took you deep into your subconscious. I was ready to fight my demons. Feeling this power in Landen fighting to get out made me question if I was ready to fight his.

He tenderly pulled away from my kiss, bringing the atmosphere to an eerie balance.

Don’t grieve yet. Don’t make this real for us, he whispered, leaning his forehead against mine.

I’m afraid.

I know, he whispered, caressing the side of my face, trying to mask the stern expression that was hiding the raging emotions I felt inside of him.

He wasn’t afraid. He was furious. He had the intent to rip Silas into small pieces with his bare hands and I couldn’t understand why. I didn’t know what he knew or how he even knew it.

I wanted help. Getting it was my intent, who to reach out to was still in question as I thought through his family and my newfound allies.

They’re not going to feel this until I know they have a reason to, he stated flatly.

Landen, hours ago you were in the realm, in a dark and twisted place, and now this...we need help.

No. His voice failed to hide his fury.

I couldn’t help the tremble I had or the way I stared him like he was a stranger. He moved closer, gripping my hips and pulling them against him. Me and you. That’s all we need. I don’t want to hear anyone else in my thoughts, anyone telling me to calm down or to focus on something else. I don’t want to look at a scroll, a birth chart. I don’t want to hear the endless discussion about what should or should not happen next. I’m fixing this.

I want to fix it to, I said gathering gumption. But you’re gonna have to come down a notch or two. You can’t think like you are now.

He visibly tried to usher ease through his vibe. Each second felt like a year as we stared into each other. We were both in a million places trying to scramble our way back to each other.

They’ll find us soon enough, he swore.

He wasn’t wrong. Either Monroe would tell our family what she showed us or the kids would. One way or another they’d come. I found comfort in this, Landen didn’t. Understanding why wouldn’t be simple. I was sure it was a confluence of several reasons. I was good with out running the admiration ‘the first couple’ seemed to have. What didn’t click was how eager Landen was to leave it in his wake. It was almost like he knew if the title ever caught up with us, we’d be trapped. He was striving to help where he could and settle all his debts before then.

Right now he was staring at me like a guy who was out of time and had just been delivered a left hook reality punch.

What now, I finally asked when we were both lulled by shock.

His hand found mine. He went to speak but hastened his words as he ticked his head in the direction we were to walk.

The streets were drying now. A lingering fog cocooned us as we moved down streets encased in residual vim. I could feel the eyes of the past leering at us, how cold their essence was as it lingered among the living. Tiny flakes of snow began to dance with the fog.

Landen glanced back at me with an aching stare. When we get to this house, I want you to go in, start a fire, and wait for me to come back.

You’re not leaving me.

Thunder rumbled in the distance. He pointed to the sky. I have to keep you safe, this dimension safe. This is not the realm, or even Esterious. This city cannot handle this weather, or the threat of it.

What if they are there? I pleaded. Why would you still leave? I feel your intent.

He was after Silas, the angel who fought for the brightest vim in the universe. Landen didn’t really care who he fought for or why. He wanted his sister back and revenge for the fact anything had ever happened to her.

I have no doubt that you do, he stated evenly, not apologizing for the execution he had planned for Silas. They’re not there.

How do you know?

We’re here, he said, stopping and nodding to a two-story home set behind an iron fence. Every light in the home was out. The detailed framework that marked an era of time that would never be completely forgotten added to the haunted, dark image that this town possessed. I’m not staying here without you, I murmured, edging back toward the street.

Willow, there’s nothing here that will hurt you. I wouldn’t tell you to stay if I thought there was.

Fine. But I’m still going with you.

No, you’re not. There was no emotion in his solemn tone.

You can’t make me stay, I bit out.

I can. Willow, please don’t fight with me now. I have to do this. I have no choice.

His words sent an icy chill down my spine. What has gotten into you?

Nothing, he said, glancing away.

That’s a lie...I feel you. You’re not a lethal soul.

I am when I have to be.

You can’t hurt him.

I’ll find a way, he coldly promised. I knew then that all my previous statement had done was ignite an untamable spark of male testosterone.

I’m not saying he’s more powerful...you just can’t.

Why, Willow? Why would I not stop a man that let my sister die, rose her from the dead only to be in his army? Why? Give me one reason.

His harsh words had given me an insight into what was fueling his rage, but I knew there was a reason why Silas did that. There had to be.

Landen put his hand on the small of my back and then pushed the iron gate open and briskly guided me down the stone walkway that led to the porch.

Landen, this is not you, I said as tears encased my eyes and the rain began again.

I felt his body tense next to mine and then slowly ease into a calmer state. His grip loosened as he turned me to face him and cupped my face with his hand.

His eyes cascaded over me, It is me, baby. This is the person I don’t want you to see.

What if he hurts you? I asked, reaching for his face, feeling the hum of his energy rush through my skin.

He smirked, turning his head slightly to kiss my hand. I doubt it.

How do you even know where he is? It was a foolish question, but I would ask him a thousand more if it would keep him here long enough for the others to catch up with us.

I feel him.

I don’t.

More proof you need to stay here, he said, stepping away from me, causing me to lose my hold on him.

That is not proof. It’s a clear sign that right now you are only acting on your emotions—the bad ones.

"Willow, I didn’t act on my emotions for almost nineteen years, and because I didn’t, you were tormented with nightmares and Donalt pulled more and more souls into his web. Not acting on these emotions has done nothing but bring agony. I’m acting on them this time."

What happened in the realm, Landen? What did they do to you?

They made a mistake. They let me live, he said as he knocked on the door.

I knew I’d felt someone inside this home. Sleeping, I assumed. Their emotions were in balance, but the rap on the door had given them alarm.

You’re not leaving me here, I argued once more.

I am.

Landen, you’re out of control. How do you know Silas didn’t save them?

I saw his intent. This was not an act of salvation. He acted like a solider carrying out orders.

Whose?

I don’t know, and I don’t care.

What if they were ours? What if we told him to do this in another life?

The front porch light turned on. The clicking of locks broke the tense silence between us. When the door finally opened, an older woman with silver hair and gray eyes was standing there, dressed in dark jeans and a black sweater.

Landen looked right out at her. Chambers—from Chara.

She nodded once as she pushed the door open wider.

Have you seen other travelers? Clarissa, Dane? Landen asked her.

The woman’s instant sorrow told us she had.

Keep her here. I’ll be back, Landen flatly stated to the woman before reaching to kiss my temple and turning to leave.

Landen! I yelled after him.

He raised his hand to tell me to halt in place. The door was slammed shut by the unseen force of his vim.

I stepped forward ready to tell him he better think twice before he tries to stuff me away somewhere but I stopped the second I heard the thunder. I’d destroyed a city in Esterious days ago. The grief of that action had yet to catch up with me, I wasn’t looking forward to when it did or ready to add more to my list of regrets.

My insights trapped me here. At least for now they had.

That was Guardian, the woman said. It was more of a question than a statement.

Landen in this life.

She stared at the closed door for a second then briskly walked past me into another room that was off to the side. The house had a lingering burning odor to it, but seconds after she left me I smelled rosemary, along with other scents that were nothing less than Earthly.

I followed her, hearing the floor creak with each step I took. The room she went in was lit by candlelight. It was a musky, aged room. Decorated with antique furniture, a red velvet couch with a high back was adjacent to black chairs with backs that reached well over whomever would sit in them. A dark wood desk was off to the left of the room, and a narrow table was before it.

On that table was a golden chalice, a silver tray, and an array of candles, all lit and all white, with the exception of one: the red one in the woman's hand. A small dagger was in her other hand, and she was carving something in the red wax as her lips whispered words I could not hear. She sat the red candle in the center of the narrow table, then waved her hands over the wick, which ignited a flame that reached at least six inches in the air before settling in flow with five white candles next to it.

After emptying a small velvet sack into the chalice, she bowed her head in what looked like a prayer. A moment later, she raised her hands and placed a bundle of green leaves before her candle display, igniting it with a glance. The burn was slow, and the aroma of sage filled the room.

Who are you?

Saige, she stated as she reached for a white candle and poured a circle of wax around a golden chalice.

No, not what are you burning—who are you?

She turned to me, gray eyes locked with green. Saige. The witch that is going to help you tonight.

I glanced at the desk behind her altar to see a laptop computer, phone, iPod deck, books, and more plants than any office should have. My gaze drifted back to her, to the fashion jeans she was wearing, the symbolic yet elegant jewelry that lingered on her wrist, fingers, and neck. She didn’t look like a witch. She looked like an eccentric, wealthy, older woman.

Looking for my broom? I heard a bit of humor in her voice, laced with evident contradiction.

Only if it can fly me to wherever Landen went. She needed to know that sarcasm was a language I spoke fluently.

Her soft lips echoed a painful smile. I narrowed my eyes taking her in; she was a strikingly beautiful woman, iconic. So much so my instinct told me this image I was looking at was an illusion. I pushed the thought away when I noted how ancient her vim seemed. I’ll bring him back to you, she vowed.

I smirked. I have no doubt he will come back. It’s what he’s doing when he’s gone that has me bothered.

She glanced at her altar. I intend to stop that, too.

I furrowed my brow. I wasn’t aware that a witch had the power to stop someone like Landen. I was trying to politely tell her that her candles and herbs could not compare to what Landen and I had become. The fact that Perodine herself could not stop us made that notion fact.

Were you aware of witches at all?

I didn’t know if she was intending on being rude or not, but her tone was harsh.

I took in a breath before I spoke. Let me be blunt: if you’re trying to shock me with the claim that you practice witchcraft, you’re ranking fairly low on my ‘wow’ scale at this moment.

In my mind, all the evil that I’d fought flashed into view, causing a gust of wind to assault the glass pane windows behind her desk.

Her gaze shifted to the window. I saw a familiarity in her glance and turned to see who she was looking at. Not seeing anyone, I returned my attention to her, only to see her nod then walk past me toward the front hall.

Where are you going? I asked as I followed her.

She opened a hall door and pulled out a black pea coat. I told you, to help you. To stop this.

How do you know where he went?

She opened the front door and stopped short, as if she were staring at a mass of people, but there was no one there. The dead outnumber the living in this town. They know where they are.

You see the dead? I asked, swallowing nervously, wanting Charlie and Draven right now. They were the only ones I trusted to see lost souls.

She stepped out on the front porch as if she were sliding through people. I do more than see. A few steps later, she glanced to her side. Keep her here. Don’t let her follow me.

Keep who here? I asked, stepping forward, only to feel an icy wall blocking my way. Panic, anger, and frustration vibrated in my soul, causing thunder to rumble, the wind to pick up, and lightning to strike the street before her home.

You.

I struggled to move forward, but the icy wall pushed me back into the house. The door then slammed in front of me. I rushed to it and did everything in my power to open it. As I focused my energy on the door, prepared to break it down with a glance, it began to rattle violently as an icy chill claimed the air. My panicked breaths leaked fog from my lips. Thinking it was my fear that was causing it, I tried to find a calm feeling. When one came, the cold air remained. It was so chilling that all the mirrors and framed portraits on the wall began to ice over. My heart raced. I’d faced a ghost before: Donalt. This vim around me didn’t feel as angry or demonic, but it was still demanding, and it still made me question if I could overpower it. The last time I’d fought Donalt alone, I ended up in a coma, fighting my own subconscious. I didn’t have time to sleep now.

I cautiously stepped away from the door, finding warmth in the air behind me. I stepped further back until I reached the room she’d lit the candles in—her study. From the threshold, I watched as the rest of the house began to freeze over. I felt a tense energy daring me to move from the room I was in. Paralyzed by fear, I held in a breath and let one warm tear stream down my cheek. I was in a prison, one in which Landen had purposely placed me.

Chapter Two

I thought it was the wind at first, but I was starting to think it was whispers that I could hear in the hallway and throughout the rest of this house. Charlie. I needed Charlie. She could help me out of this prison. She could tell me what to say to these invisible images that were guarding me.

I paced the room, trying to remember everything she and Draven had told me about what they did, how they did it. I remembered her telling me to show them my love, the emotion they’d forgotten. I did my best to clear my mind and find this sensation, but even when I thought I had it, nothing brought down the door to my prison. I let out a frustrated grunt as I fisted my hands and glared at the nothing around me.

Then an idea struck me: Nana. I was in my home dimension, the one I found Charlie in. The one Draven’s grandmother was still in.

In a frantic rush, I walked over to the desk, picked up the phone, and pressed the ‘O’ for an operator. When the electronic voice said, City and state, please, I froze. I didn’t know. I knew what passage the house was behind. I even thought I heard them say ‘Salem’ before, but there was more than one Salem. When the recording repeated its request, I slammed the phone down.

Squeezing my eyes closed, I struggled to recount what I knew of them. As I fell into the seat behind me, the glow from the charging light on the laptop flickered. I turned to the computer, finding it on and not secured with a password. It wasn’t long before I found my way online.

I Googled the lyrics to the song that led me to Charlie in the first place: ‘An angel fallen, a devil risen, our fate is calling, this world will not be our prison.’ The search engine produced thousands of results. Most of them led you to a place for a free download or other bands covering the song. I moved the cursor to YouTube. The first video that came up had over seven million hits. When it began to play, I heard the camera operator talking to someone with her over the roar of a crowd.

God, Draven Michaels is going to be on stage any second! Is it wrong to hate Charlie? the girl said with a playful laugh.

So jealous, another girl said.

The crowd began to cheer as a spotlight focused on Draven’s dad.

Evan is on stage stand up so you can see it, the camera girl said.

I watched as Evan, Draven’s dad, introduced his son’s band. I didn’t wait to watch them play. I clicked away and typed: ‘Evan Michaels Salem’ into the search engine. A few clicks later, I was sure I’d found a number that could be his. I wasn’t sure if it was an office or a home phone line, but it was worth a shot.

I glanced at the clock: it was 1 a.m. here. I didn’t want to wake anyone up, but as far as I was concerned, this was an emergency.

Three rings later, a man answered the phone. In the background,