Disavow: Web of Hearts and Souls (Rivulet Series Book 2)

  Copyright © 2013 Jamie Magee

  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.

  Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book. This purchase allows you one legal copy for your own personal reading enjoyment on your personal computer or device. You do not have the right to resell, distribute, print or transfer this book, in whole or in part, to anyone, in any format, via methods either currently known or yet to be invented, or upload this book to a file sharing program. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

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  authorjamiemagee.com

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  Other Books by Jamie Magee

  EDGE

  “Web of Hearts and Souls”

  Insight (Book 1)

  Embody (Book 2)

  Image (Book 3)

  Vital (Book 4)

  Vindicate (Book 5)

  Enflame (Book 6)

  Imperial (Book 7)

  Blakeshire (Book 8)

  Emanate (Book 9)

  Exaltation (Book 10)

  See (Book 1)

  Witness (Book 2)

  Synergy (Book 3)

  Redefined (Book 4)

  Derive (Book 5)

  Rivulet (Book 1)

  Contemporary Novels:

  Impulsion

  Friction

  Deploy

  For Sabrina...happy birthday Adelyn.

  I think a lot of people still fantasise about that first love and what might happen if they rekindled the relationship.

  Sophie Kinsella

  Chapter One

  The nightmare was always the same....

  Ominous.

  The epitome of eerie was the only way to describe how Jackson Square breathes before a heated storm. In this dream, like all the ones before, the square was abandoned. Not even the homeless dared to linger during the war at hand. Loose papers and litter danced with the tepid wind that howled through the historical streets. Through the only neighborhood River Sabien had ever known: The French Quarter.

  Her twin, Ash, was standing across from her, their sister Raven was just before them, and before them all stood Soren Wade. This was their battle stance—a perfect triangle keeping Raven safe in the center.

  They’d run to Jackson Square. River wasn’t sure why there, of all places. Maybe they sought shelter in the church. She had no idea why their parents weren’t there, or how they managed to evade their watchful eye, but they had. A tragic mistake. In this dream, they were only children.

  The wind carried the scent of the ocean. River could taste the salt, how bitter it was on her lips. The smell of fish and swamp wasn’t much better, but those senses were not the ones River was relying on then. No, she was feeling prickles. A burning sensation that stabbed her from the inside out, an awareness that warned her soul of encroaching danger, and prodded her body to bring adrenaline to her defense.

  Evil descended.

  The gates of hell opened and spiraling dark clouds emerged all around them, it sounded like thunder making landfall, the air reeked of evil—it reeked of sulfur. When the clouds vanished, men in black suits were there. River knew they were after Raven. She knew if she moved out of her stance Raven would be taken. She’d die before she dared to move.

  Lightning struck the ground just before Raven. River lunged forward wanting to protect her but then she realized it was not lightning—it was a man. A fallen angel, he looked like one at least. His skin was golden, so was his hair that was long with rich curls, the features reflected his gaze that glowed liked honey. He shouted commands River couldn’t understand in those terrifying moments. Instead, she focused on his actions. She watched him plow his fist into one of the men wearing black. His hand didn’t meet flesh, but instead pushed through and when he pulled his hand back billowing black smoke emerged. The man he was fighting fell to the ground, lifeless.

  The fallen angel was commanding them all to fight the way he had. River nearly puked the first time she tried. She was only twelve. She doubted she had enough force to punch through anything or anyone, but when she was attacked she did as he said, and her hand did pass through the flesh. She felt the warm, sick insides of the vile creature. The fallen angel came to her and said, “It feels as you see it to be,” River had no words for him—nothing was registering. “Rope. See a rope. Pull a rope. Not flesh. And so it will be.”

  River thought he was insane, but the word was in her mind and as soon as it was, she didn’t feel guts, she felt a rope and pulled. She covered her face as the black smoke wafted out, and the man fell at her feet.

  River stood trembling, it felt as if she stood there for an eternity; staring at the death of her childhood, her innocence, but it had only been seconds. Another man in black attacked her. She had to defend herself, and did so fiercely, not ashamed of the tears that were streaming down her face for they were tears of anger, not of a coward.

  The rain and wind were grueling. River was sure their battle was going to destroy the town if not the storm they were fighting within, meaning she’d witness the end of an era.

  All at once their parents appeared, as did all of their family friends. The men in black stopped appearing around them; the wind died, but the rain kept on. The bodies, there were so many...

  River stood in the center of at least ten carcasses. She couldn’t move, now that the battle was over, justifiable terror erupted. The fallen angel nodded his head and all the bodies turned to flames.

  A body lying at River’s feet roared and thrashed. Coated in flames it stood and grasped her shoulders, “You have trespassed. You have forsaken your honor.”

  With his touch the world around her changed. Long gone was the French Quarter. Now she was in another world, another universe. She saw a pristine palace set before an emerald sea, shielded by a fall of water. The scene moved, and River saw herself in a white robe, standing before a breathtaking home. She stood hand and hand with someone, all she could see were his dark eyes that were full of devotion, yet she could feel that her heart was breaking. The boys body engulfed in flames. Everything did as the voice of the fallen man she had slain bellowed at her, “You have forsaken your honor!”

  ***

  Like each time before River woke screaming, gasping for breath, and covered in sweat.

  She gripped her chest, trying to calm her heaving breaths. She only opened her eyes to assure herself that she was safe in her dorm room. She could hear music playing in the room behind hers, girls laughing as they walked down the hall.

  Safe.

  She moved her legs to the side of the bed finally catching her breath. The room was pitch dark, the way she liked it. She reached for the bedside table finding it bare. She’d knocked her lamp, clock, and phone off the table. After blindly groping the floor she found the lamp tangled on the floor. With shaking hands, she turned it on and placed it back where it belonged on the table then searched for her phone.

  It was almost 9:00 am. She’d missed her morning class. Great, she acknowledged sarcastica
lly.

  Slowly, she crawled over to her mini-fridge and pulled out a bottle of water and chugged it down. Then she reached for her lotion and generously rubbed it all over her skin. It was her favorite scent: sweet pea. She knew she would take a shower as soon as she calmed down, but the dream had left her with the scent of sulfur heavy on her mind and therefore in her senses; she had to suffocate the memory of the scent and bring her senses to the now.

  River had fought in the same nightmare since the day the battle actually happened when she was only twelve. Well, all but the flaming corpse and flashbacks happened, that was something her mind fabricated, for God only knows why.

  She wasn’t afraid of fighting the men in black, or the storms. But she was afraid of what her soul knew but refused to tell her. It had to be massive, tragic. Why else would her mind pull her to another universe? Force her to look into those eyes only to hear how badly she’d forsaken some honor.

  The vision didn’t make sense with the fate she already knew she had. The one she’d openly accepted, even craved, to face. She was a guardian. Born, like her twin and their friend Soren, to defend Raven. They were all raised side by side in the Quarter. They were family, one that protected its own ferociously.

  All in all, they had a balanced childhood with only a few dark wars. The worst, in River’s opinion, was when they were seventeen. Five years ago.

  At seventeen they figured out why they felt the prickles, why they felt the urge to defend Raven, who was by no means weak. They understood Raven would rise to overcome a dark God, one who ruled the line of Exaltation, and her sisters, River, and Ash would protect her as she did so, right alongside Soren Wade.

  They also learned that Jamison BellaRose, the original immortal coven leader, was the father of not only the twins but also Raven. The girls had always assumed as much. Jamison and Emery, the twins’ mother, were constantly side-by-side, deeply in love and on the same page when it came to every need the girls had. Whether it had to do with the craft or the modern world. Officially knowing he was their father was not jarring. Learning his lifespan and power was greater than they ever imagined, and his blood was not only coursing through them but the justifiable reason fate had chosen them for this fate was.

  The same year, River started to strengthen a physic gift she had when it came to old text. She could fall into the words—stand in the story they were telling. See the truth the text could never truly capture.

  She’d been addicted to discovering forgotten pasts since then. It became her major in college. Basically, she was a mythologist like her mother.

  The first books River had exercised her gift on stated Raven would come into power with a lover from the grave. The sad part was that Raven did have a lover in the grave, Rydell Sheridan. He was Raven’s first real boyfriend. To say the least, the boy was far from ordinary. He was born to protect the sovereign that Raven was fated to slay. He’d broken free from the clutches of the dark God and created his own faction of fallen angels, aka Escorts, known as the Helco Faction.

  Rydell’s death was predicted in the same text. In those words it was stated after five years of modern time he would have the strength to leave death. Since reading those words, River had sensed a heavy ticking clock over her head. This winter would mark five years.

  There was no doubt in her mind once Rydell King returned Raven’s time to rise would be close, too close. In one beat, River wanted it over with, to know the end. In the next, she wanted to push the date back as far as she could.

  She hung her head between her knees as what the corpse said in her dream echoed in her mind. She had no idea why her subconscious would believe she’d trespassed on anything or anyone. She didn’t seek this path—it claimed her. Furthermore, she didn’t understand the visions that came with the dream.

  Or maybe she did, and she just didn’t care to think about it. In her mind, that place was a heaven. More than likely she saw it that way because of those dark eyes.

  Her heart clenched all at once.

  Soren’s cousin died when they were sixteen. Braxton Wade. He had those eyes. If there were such things, he was River’s middle school boyfriend. A boy she hung out with when he came to the Quarter to spend vacations with his grandmother. He was a lot like his grandmother, calm, easy going, took life in slow strides. The kind of boy you brought home to your mom or made sure you told your mother he was going to be somewhere you were going so she knew the get together was legit.

  They were never physical, that is, beyond holding hands. Friends. They decided they were friends, long before his twin brother, Mason Wade, became River’s first real boyfriend. Mason was a real boyfriend who did more than hold her hand. He was the one she gave her heart to.

  Braxton’s death crushed them all, Mason the most. River and Mason ended after his death, for more reasons than River cared to dwell upon.

  Her phone vibrated in her hand. River swallowed a curse when she saw her mom’s name. Emery Sabien taught at River’s school. River was sure by now her mom had figured out she missed her class.

  She answered on the fourth ring. “Hey,” she breathed.

  “Are you asleep?”

  “Was. Stayed up going over those texts you gave me.”

  River hoped that would take the edge off of any disappointment her mother may have. River was the only one still in school. Everyone else grabbed their degree last year and had been taking a break. River stayed, deciding to be a life-long student.

  “Discover anything?” Emery asked a bit interested.

  “Same story, different language.”

  Emery was silent for a moment. “I was hoping we could have breakfast.”

  River’s mind was still foggy from her dream, so she pulled her phone out to check the calendar for the date. Her mom drove to campus when she taught. It was Friday, a day she didn’t teach, which meant she wanted River home.

  “Yeah, let me pack. Call my professor. Too late for breakfast. I’ll be home for dinner.”

  “I’m out front.”

  River struggled to her feet and pulled back the quilt she had hanging over her window. Emery was just below. Saige, the girls’ aunt was with her.

  “Something happen?”

  “No,” she said in the gentle tone she was known for. “I’ll call your professor. River?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I still need you to pack.”

  River furrowed her brow. From below she could see Emery smile weakly. “Meet me in my office in an hour. I’ll have your breakfast there.”

  River nodded once and let the quilt fall back.

  It didn’t take her long to pack. She’d shared a wardrobe with Ash and Raven her entire life. When they left, they took most of the clothes. Every other weekend they’d commute up and take a little more home, all silently asking that River commute the way her mom had for years. They didn’t get that River stayed more focused at school.

  In the shower she tried to take as many calming breaths as she could, apparently all for not. As she stood in front of the mirror, she could still see lavender highlights in her blue eyes. Her eyes always looked like that after a battle, or when she was preparing for one. It was a trait she’d managed to keep under wraps for years. Her dreams had gotten so out of hand over the last month that she had to get blue contacts. Not only to cover that trait but also to make sure her mom didn’t notice.

  When they were kids, Raven, Ash, and River all wore their hair the same way, long, dark brown, nearly black, with a white streak on one side. River changed her style often these days. Now her edgy cut was short, barely reaching her shoulders. Besides the black tips, she was sporting her natural dark blond color. The image reminded her of her innocent years. Of the girl who had no idea what wicked turns life had in store for her.

  When River finally made it to her mother’s office, she walked in without a knock like she always had. The air stung with awkwardness when Emery and Saige stopped short with whatever they were discussing.

  “Don’t mi
nd me,” River dropped her travel bag, along with her book bag and made her way to the breakfast set out for her.

  It wasn’t the first time, or last, that she’d walk into a room only for it to grow silent after she had. Outside of her tight circle of friends most people in her life, including her parents, were immortal witches. Their motto was to only reveal what was needed when needed. Never before. “Half the magic is in the lesson,” was her mother’s favorite round about answer when any one of her girls would push for a concrete answer about what to expect as their fate grew ever closer.

  “River?” Emery said. River glanced up at her as she finished chewing the bite in her mouth. “Are you sleeping well?” Emery asked.

  The woman can read me like a freaking book, River thought. “For the most part.”

  “Same dreams?”

  River vaguely nodded. Not long ago she’d confessed to her mom about the flashes at the end of her dream. She’d regretted doing so ever since. All it did was give her mother another reason to worry.

  Emery told River she was a ‘fixer.’ “It’s in your nature to mend broken roads. You know it didn’t end right with him...you need to fix this. If you don’t, you’ll always be haunted.” She squeezed her hand. “Just call him, what could it hurt?”

  As she spoke, River’s eyes glistened with tears she refused to let fall. It was an unspoken rule to never mention the darkest time in her young life. When the rule was broken, in deep, quiet moments like the one her mother had pulled her into, the pain would crash into River’s chest like a sledgehammer. The ache of grief would glide over her heart, and she’d swear she could not miss him more.

  Mason Wade.

  In a blink of her eye, at age sixteen, she’d lost Braxton and Mason, a great friend and the boy who stole her heart. No one could really blame Mason for crumbling and needing space. But River could blame him for his methods. He moved away and shed every reminder of his twin and his heritage, including the girl who loved him that he left behind in the Quarter. The sting of bitterness he left in his wake had never faded.