Part 4 (1/2)

G.o.d, I want you, I unintentionally projected. I wasn't embarra.s.sed though. I was thankful of the honesty our telepathic abilities bestowed upon us.

I want you too, Ella. I want you more than my next breath.

With our foreheads pressed together, we were both panting, unable to catch our breath between pa.s.sionate kisses.

Suddenly, my mom's voice cut through both our thoughts, as loud as if she were in the same room with us shouting next to the bed.

Ella! Oh, Ella, please tell me you can hear me. I need you to come back to me. My mom's words were a desperate plea, as if it were her last hope to communicate.

As soon as her voice echoed through my head, Jonah jerked his head up and looked around the room.

”Jonah, are you ok?” I asked out loud, worried he may have heard her.

”I did hear her, Ella. She said she needs you to come back to her. Back where?” he asked, sounding perplexed.

”How can you hear my mother's voice? I thought her voice was just a dream. A figment of my imagination. My memories.”

Jonah shook his head as he said, ”I don't know how or why, but she is definitely communicating with you, Ella.”

We both sat still, Jonah still hovering over me, positioned between my legs as I gripped his strong biceps with my fingernails. After several minutes of waiting, staring, and exchanging thoughts, we didn't hear any more from my mother. Writing it off as a fluke, I smiled up at him and brought my head off the pillow to meet his lips.

Just as my lips pressed against his warm, soft skin, I heard her again. This time, even stronger.

Ella. I can sense you. I know you're there. Wake up!

I looked at Jonah and his lips were moving with the words my mother was saying.

”Jonah, that's not funny,” I scolded as I started to push him off me. The fact he would make fun of this situation was infuriating.

His lips began to move again with my mother's words. Wake up for me, darling. Things have been so lonely without you. Come now. Wake up. Wake up!

I shook my head and backed away from him, frantically crawling backwards until I ran into the headboard. I felt the tears threatening to brim my eyelids, but the sharp p.r.i.c.k of tears was nothing compared to the confusion that wracked my brain.

I felt my body slip, free-falling through blackness. You know those dreams where you feel like the bed is tipping backwards and you're sliding precariously close to the edge, ready to fall with the slightest breath? Well, I had already plunged into the darkness below. I couldn't actually feel anything. I could only sense I was falling, like you would imagine wind ripping through your hair and weightlessness overtaking your senses.

Wanting to see Jonah's face again, I desperately tried to think of him, worried this whole thing was just another meditation experiment gone bad.

The feeling of falling into a never-ending abyss suddenly came to a halt. Not so much with a jolt or any sense I had landed, but just the feeling that it was done, that my mind had imagined the falling and I was secured snugly in my bed.

Faintly, I heard the sounds of machines beeping. Cold, sterile air coated my sensitive skin, giving me goose b.u.mps all over my body. The smell of disinfectant a.s.saulted my nostrils, making me very aware my Jonah was nowhere near.

I felt a warm, soft hand stroke my forehead as I attempted to open my eyes. I winced at the pain brought on by the barrage of bright lights above me. My eyes were coated with the stickiness you feel when you've been asleep for too long and my vision was covered in a thick haze.

”My Ella. Oh G.o.d, Ella. You're here!” I heard my mother's voice shriek through obvious strained tears. The sound of her high-pitched excitement made me jump.

I slowly turned my head and tried to focus on my mother's face. She was really here? But how?

”You're in the hospital baby. It's ok. Don't cry,” she a.s.sured me as she continued petting my forehead. Was I crying? Of course I was. The one person I wanted as much as my mother was no longer next to me. He said he wouldn't leave.

I felt like I wanted to talk, wanted to ask what the h.e.l.l was going on. But I couldn't. My voice just would not work.

My entire body ached. Every muscle felt weak and horribly painful. Almost like I had a full body charlie-horse doing spasms under my skin.

Since I couldn't make my voice work, I just stared at my beautiful mother and let my mouth and mind form the words I couldn't seem to say out loud, ”What happened?”

In an attempt to push away her uncontrollable sobs, my mom sucked in a ragged breath and said, ”You've been in a coma for six years, Ella.”

Next in the Soul Seers Series: Eyes of the Soul Purchase links available on Rene's website at

Number 18.

Michael Loring.

Her.

The decision had been made, and once made, there was no going back. Never going back. But why would he go back anyway? What lay ahead was much too sweet to pa.s.s up.

Robert stood in the shadows, leering out at the people that pa.s.sed by-who were laughing and enjoying their feeble existence. They pa.s.sed by him, sparing him merely a brief glance before returning to whatever idiotic discussions they were sharing with their moronic friends; completely unaware as to what lay in wait within the man lurking in the shadows.

He was dressed inconspicuously, not at all standing out-just how he liked it. He was wearing a dark blue windbreaker with the zipper up all the way, his faded black jeans hugging his legs rather tightly, gaining the attention of a few of the young teenage girls that pa.s.sed by. He gave a slight grin in return to their stares, adding to his harmless act. He had the charm, the good looks, and the wit to stay as far under the radar as possible. It had served him well all these sinfully delicious years. He may only be twenty-seven, but his count was higher than most forty year olds.

Seventeen.

A twisted smile found its way onto Robert's face.

Her.

The woman was short, with raven-colored hair that fell just below her chin in soft, silk-like strands. She was dressed in tight blue jeans, a purple blouse covering her supple upper body in such a way that it complimented her perky little b.r.e.a.s.t.s. She was lean, with square shoulders and a proud stance. When he was done with her, that proud stance would turn into a slouch and those lively eyes of hers would become dull with shame. She would become another number, special number eighteen, just like the rest. She would be nothing more than a number, nameless and without a soul. Once he was done with her, he would move on to the next number, and then the next, and then the next...

She was the prey tonight. It was too late for her now. The decision had been made and once made, there was no turning back.

In the midst of the carnival, the woman argued with what Robert a.s.sumed to be her boyfriend. Some big jock dressed in a gray hoodie and cargos. They appeared to be arguing over what prize to achieve from the shooting range. The woman kept pointing to some large, fluffy bunny, while the boyfriend was jabbing his thumb at a plush lion with a ruffled mane. The poor vendor looked absolutely uncomfortable as she waited for the two to finish their bickering. Robert chortled slightly at the sight of the lovely couple.

Soon they will be broken, just like the others.

Robert would have his fun with the woman, and once he let her go...the couple would deteriorate. The woman would never be able to expose herself to another ever again-too ashamed of what happened-and the boyfriend would eventually leave her to be with someone not as damaged. Robert saw it all the time with his victims. He would watch from outside their bedroom windows as they argued themselves into a pit they could never come out of again. All thanks to the fun Robert oh-so-loved to have.

Robert reached up, perked the collar of his windbreaker, and blended in with the crowd, moving like a snake towards the couple. He would follow them, wait for his opening patiently, and then strike.

He weaved through the crowd until he was close enough to hear their words. They were definitely arguing over what prize to win-the bunny versus the lion. The woman seemed to be winning, as the look on the boyfriend's face was much more strained than her own. Eventually, the boyfriend exclaimed loudly that she had indeed won and he yelled at the vendor to get the bunny for the woman.

The poor little girl couldn't grab it from the hook fast enough.

The boyfriend handed the bunny to his girlfriend and she instantly went from argumentative to sweet as she clutched the stuffed rabbit to her ample chest and cooed at it. She thanked her boyfriend-Daniel she called him-with a tone coated in so much sugar even Robert had to blanch. However, the boyfriend said nothing about it and just grumbled as they continued away from the booth-Robert trailing a few feet behind.

Robert followed them for about half an hour before he overheard the woman saying something about a campsite. So they were camping out in the woods, huh? Robert couldn't hold in the demented grin that split across his cheeks. This woman was going to be the easiest catch of all...