Whispers of the Damned: See Series Book 1

  Chapter Ten

  Draven’s phone vibrated breaking the spell we were lost inside of.

  “Kara,” he said as I landed back in my seat. “In the garage,” he said as he answered.

  The back door opened and Kara waved us in. “I was calling to tell you to stay there—we’re under a severe storm warning.”

  “Yeah, it’s pretty bad out there,” I said, looking back at Draven as I climbed the steps inside.

  “I don’t think you should drive back until it passes, Draven,” Kara said. “Why don’t you guys go play music or something?”

  “Sounds perfect,” Draven said.

  She glanced up at Draven; he shook his head no once and the hopeful expression Kara had that I was right as rain now fell.

  “I’m done for the night,” she said. “If this gets worse, wake me up so we can go down to the basement.”

  “If we play, is it gonna keep you up?”

  Thunder crashed above the house as I said the words.

  Kara arched her brow. “I hate storms. Turn the amps up, will you?”

  I started to pull Draven toward the living room. With each step we took, the louder the guitar haunting my home became. By the time we reached the stairs, it sounded like we were standing in the center of a concert.

  “If she could hear this we wouldn’t need to play for her,” I said, glancing back at him.

  “It’s not hers to hear.”

  When we reached my room, I let my bag fall by the short wall, then followed him up the stairs that led to the studio. He walked to the window and looked toward his house, and pulled out his phone. I cautiously walked up behind him. I could see almost everything in his studio from here. Aden was sitting on the couch with a guitar across himself; he reached in his pocket and pulled out his phone.

  “Hey,” Draven said as he answered. “I’m gonna stay over here for a while if it dies down before you pass out, will you just bring her car over? We can ride back together.”

  Draven listened as Aden spoke then responded, “Yeah, it’s pretty vicious out there.”

  Aden waved at me through the window. I smiled awkwardly and waved back. Draven slid his phone back in his pocket.

  “It shouldn’t be this bad, should it,” I said, not talking about any storm cell.

  He canted his head as he moved away from me pushing the couch away from the window as he did. He set a path for a guitar.

  “I’m making them mad,” I said crossing my arms.

  He cursed under his breath then sat the guitar in his hand down as his eyes found me.

  “I don’t answer when they call my name, you don’t either.” I accused.

  “Not in front of you, no.”

  It was crazy, but hearing he was helping made me proud. Wait. How did I know he was helping?

  “What do you say?” the question wasn’t really for him, but me. He let me wrestle with it as the static vibe in the air introduced itself once more.

  I saw a ripple of water in a still pond in my minds eye; each ripple washed the murkiness away, the sand settled. “You change the wave. You clear the water—free them.”

  He drew his chin up.

  “You think it’s a waste of time,” I said.

  I was on a roll. Peeks and valleys of conversations we’d had alone and with the others came back to me. My skin flushed as a sinking feeling came to me. “It was Jacob’s Ladder at first; we thought we were sending out a beacon, drawing more than we can handle in.” I swayed my head. “Not playing live, stripping our stuff from the net, all that didn’t slow them down.” I took a step closer to him. “I told you something was pushing them out of the realm they were suppose to be in. I told you they were hunted.”

  He crossed his arms. “And I said...”

  “Good.” My voice trembled. You would’ve thought the damned was a defective child of ours and he’d turned his back on them. “You said get out of their way; let ‘em clear the air so we can play.”

  He stepped forward full of defense. “You act like I want some kinda world fame, venues and arenas—to be a legend. I’m not shallow, Charlie,” he curled his lip. “You wouldn’t even let us play in our home.” He swayed his head. “You stopped playing.”

  “I was testing theories.”

  He pointed to his studio. “We’ve been playing loud and clear for a while now. You told me taking music from me was like taking my air, for me to play. We were cool,” he said wincing with the betrayal I saw in his eyes. “Then I find out you stopped.”

  “I didn’t leave myself wide open on purpose,” I argued back.

  “Slippery slope, Charlie. You prob’ thought, I’ll just not play today, then another came, and now its three months down the road and I could’ve lost you!”

  He stormed to the couch and fell into it. The glare in his eye, the way he moved his shoulders, fisted his hands, across the next few seconds had nothing to do with me. Not directly, at least. He was arguing with what I could feel in this room. He must’ve won, the air stilled and I was positive him and me were alone.

  “I’m going to say I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m going to ask you to forgive me.” I looked away because I felt distance on where we stood with this topic. “I’m not a judge or jury. I only have my clear conscious to count on. I won’t stand by and watch something be destroyed, not when I have the power to help it find redemption.”

  A near growl left his chest before he spoke. “And this force, feeding on the vilest of souls. What do you have against them? How do you know it’s not their nature? Natural order and all.”

  “I don’t,” I whispered. “But I’m not going to assume.”

  He glanced back to me.

  “Souls deserve every chance they’re brave enough to take. That’s the natural order I abide by.”

  He reached his arm out for me. When my pride let me, I moved closer. At his side he pulled me into his lap and for a long while we listened to the storm and the rhythm of our hearts.

  “I love you, Charlie,” he breathed against my neck. “I want to see it your way.” He held me tighter. “But it’s hard as hell when you show no self-preservation.”

  I moved so I could look in his eyes as I settled in his lap. “It’s hard on me when you see this as a curse. When you think you’ve done something to deserve to be punished and you drug us down with you.”

  He clenched his jaw. Draven saw the darkest part of the souls. At one time I may’ve been able to glimpse the same but he swore I never saw as deep as him. He promised I was too close to something wicked that was attached to his soul.

  I’d called my life cursed, twisted, all bad things over the last few days. Those thoughts didn’t hurt. They were what the evil I was fighting wanted me to believe. As I thought through this epiphany he watched and his expression became softer.

  “Something is trying to stop you from your greatness,” I said to him. “I wasn’t going to let it.”

  His stare moved deeper, I knew he was searching to see if I’d uncovered my cold void. I hadn’t. I couldn’t even recall a single time I’d actually helped a spirit, much less looked them in the eye.

  Wind crashed into the window, thunder erupted.

  The guitar sound exploded around us. Draven glanced to the room, as he drew his brow together. “All right, Charlie. We’ll face this head on. Together.” He stood with me in his arms and slowly put me down. “He said get away from the window.

  I knew Draven was trying to shell shock me. “That’s not all he said,” I accused as Draven drew me to the stairs. “He agrees with me.”

  Draven glanced back, squeezed my hand then let the subject drift away.

 

  We were lying on my bed, even though the storms quelled hours ago. The tips of his fingers were gliding through my hair. We’d touched topics but never fell too deep into them. My eyes fluttered closed from exhaustion but my mind was racing, it didn’t settle until he started to hum, then began to sing a lullaby that he had writte
n for me.

  A knock brought me out of guarded sleep. It was daylight now. I doubted I had slept more than an hour, though.

  Draven pushed the blanket down, then rubbed his eyes. “You can come up,” Draven said.

  I sat up in a sleepy haze and saw Aden climbing the last few steps into my room. “It was too quiet…I didn’t know if you were sleeping or not,” he said as he walked to the bed and sat down next to us.

  “What time is it?” I asked as I felt a yawn come out of nowhere.

  “Almost seven. Did you guys sleep?” he asked, looking over Draven and me like he could smell the embers of the fight we had during the storm.

  “Not long,” Draven said.

  The guitar sound erupted sizzling the air with an electrifying tone. I watched as a grin spread across Aden’s face. “I like that,” he said, rocking his head with the rhythm. He moved his hands like he was at his drum set. The creative thought carried him away as he stood. “Coming or not?” he said to Draven.

  “I’ll be there in a minute,” Draven said, nodding for him to go.

  “I want to see again,” I said to him.

  “You’re tired, sleep first,” he said as he brushed his lips across mine.

  I wanted to argue with him, but all of a sudden a calm and total serenity absorbed the room then me. My eyes were heavy. My body grew numb. Draven pulled the covers around me, kissed my brow, “I’ll be back around four.”

  I couldn’t hold my eyes open any longer. I let them fall as I felt his lips touch mine.