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The fate of the world — and the land of the dead — rests on Angela William’s shoulders and she will sacrifice everything if it means saving the ones she loves...

As the neutral Guardian of Information, Angela Williams is no stranger to the supernatural world. But when she’s dragged to the Spirit Realm against her will, she discovers that the land of the dead is at war, and it’s up to her to end it.

While the conditions in the Spirit Realm continue to deteriorate, Angela begins to learn about a different type of ability and the part she needs to play in it. Someone sinister is working against her, stopping at nothing until Angela and her best friend, Earthen witch Aisling Green are either stripped of their abilities, or killed. But something else takes an interest and won’t stop until she’s dead. As Angela embraces her true nature, Salvatore — the werewolf she loves, and her family of trusted friends, she realizes that protecting them and saving the dead comes with a price. The only question is how much?

LanguageEnglish
PublisherSarah Doughty
Release dateOct 25, 2015
ISBN9781311314758
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Sarah Doughty

The night calls to me in moonlit whispers and my daydreams answer.Conjuring words from the ether is like breathing — my weapon — my therapy. It allows me to weed through all the pain, in an effort to find myself again.My name is Sarah Doughty and I suffer from complex PTSD, depression, and debilitating anxiety. And if I don’t have a migraine, I have a headache. Every. Single. Day. Though I am terrified of the night, crowds, and much more, this darkness has become my home.If writing is my breath, then my books are my life. While my poetry focuses on singular events meant to evoke feeling or spur memories, fiction is where my heart lies. Though my books are a way for me to escape my mind and experience a magical world, deep down the problems are very real. And in many ways, my characters are vivid and alive, which in turn helps me see the world in a better light.I've shared them online for anyone who wants to read them — for free, to offer someone else hope, or the same, temporary escape as they did for me.

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    Home - Sarah Doughty

    Warnings

    Triggers: Please note this book is meant for adult audiences. It contains sexual content, kidnapping, attempted murder, graphic violence, brief accounts of racism.

    Spoilers: This is the third novel in a larger series universe, following one overarching timeline. I’ve done my best to include appropriate backstory when necessary, but it is advised to follow the reading order as indicated below.

    The Earthen Witch Chronicles

    by Sarah Doughty

    Just Breathe

    Focus

    Home

    Listen

    Safe

    Stronger Than Blood

    Enduring The Flames

    Zoe*

    Dream Spell**

    *a prequel novella

    **a standalone novella

    For all the misfits of the world. May you find your home with the people see the real you, and love you regardless.

    The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned.

    - Maya Angelou

    Every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home.

    - Matsuo Basho

    Hiraeth - (n.) a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past

    Chapter 1

    My entire life was a structured chaos. That was my best explanation for it. Outside, I was organized, careful, and always in control — at least, of myself while the rest of the world crumbled around me. It wasn't easy being so closed off, but it was the best way I knew how to protect myself.

    Inside, I was a jumble of nerves, a worrywart, and constantly struggled to keep myself in check. And that was harder to maintain as time went on.

    But I didn't expect a simple revelation to send my walls crashing down around me, leaving me open and exposed.

    It started when I was a sophomore. I met Aisling Green, a freshman, and my new roommate. I wasn't expecting what happened next. My cat, Bugs, crawled onto her lap and she made a joke about his loud purr. She was right. I just never realized it before. And our friendship began.

    Sure, I cared for her like she was my own flesh and blood. Considering what my family did to me, I cared for her like family is supposed to care for each other. She and her grandmother were better family than mine ever was. And even then, I never truly let her in.

    I never told her what happened because I didn't want to remember. And though I couldn't explain it, I knew enough to know that, at least in part, it had something to do with the supernatural world. Despite Aisling being my true family, I still kept her out.

    When her grandmother died, I promised myself, I would do anything to protect her — even if that meant losing my career, or my life. Up to that point, I stayed true to my word. And I wasn't going to back down from that vow.

    It wasn't just that she was alone in the world, like me. It was the legacy of her family, the part she didn't know about.

    Witches.

    I wanted to protect her from what she didn't know or understand.

    As Nashville's Guardian of Information and resident librarian, I maintained the lore that was available and kept track of anything supernatural that happened around the world.

    I knew enough to know that if anyone really knew what life as a supernatural, or other, was like, no one would enter it willingly.

    When Aisling slipped into that world without either of us knowing, it started a chain reaction. She wasn't just a witch. She was Earthen, the most powerful kind of witch, thought to be extinct for centuries.

    Before they were killed, Earthens protected and preserved the rest of the others like they needed. Afterward, there was no one left powerful enough to take on that kind of responsibility. So their society crumbled into a place full of distrust and war. That war needed to end.

    It didn't take long for word to spread about what she was, and that put her at the top of many lists to see her killed. Since she was my best friend, I needed protection too. The kind of people that were after her wouldn't hesitate to come after me if they realized we were friends.

    But that wasn't what broke my control.

    Liam, a very old and powerful vampire, sent Salvatore as a body guard. From what I understood, he was known to take on odd jobs.

    At first, that was all it was. An assignment.

    Protection.

    But it became more than that.

    Despite not running around on four legs very often, being a werewolf made him perfectly capable of defending me. A combination of brutality and strength that would come to his advantage if he needed it. I thought he was taking his assignment very seriously, or maybe Liam kept the werewolf's pockets filled to ensure my safety.

    After realizing the dangers around me, my best friend used her magic to create an amulet that would allow me to see auras. The little glow of varying color that surrounded anything other — anything not human emitted them. Those colors indicated the current emotional state.

    The only exception to that rule was vampires. Being undead meant they didn't cast auras.

    As a Guardian — Aisling's Guardian — I needed to tell the difference between human and other so I could protect her. And myself.

    It took me over a week to figure out what all the colors meant. The last color I needed to figure out was red.

    My best friend's fiancé and witch, Connor kissed her while the three of us ate, and their auras lit up with it.

    With as brightly as they were glowing, the realization hit me like a punch to the gut. I figured out what it meant. Desire. And I saw it often. Just not on them.

    I damn near choked on my sandwich as I let that information sink in. My werewolf protector wanted me. It wasn't that I was a prude, quite the contrary. I was a hot-blooded woman. And Salvatore was the definition of sexy. I would be lying if I said he meant nothing to me.

    But even as the town's Guardian, I didn't have all the information. Desire wasn't the only thing red could mean.

    It could also mean love.

    And pink was just a precursor to red.

    Knowing how much Salvatore wanted me, whether it was just lust or more, it was enough to set me on edge.

    But because Connor liked to tease people, he exploited my unease. We have more strength and endurance than humans. Salvatore is also a dominant wolf. He'd be an alpha if he had a pack.... Combine that with our ability to regenerate, not carry disease, and not be fertile unless we want to be, you're in for a wild ride. Lots of them.

    I didn't choke, but I did drop my sandwich.

    If I had an aura, it would have exploded in red.

    It wasn't Connor that turned me on — that would be weird. It was knowing what could happen with Salvatore that sent me crumbling.

    Everyone knew how I felt about Aisling, but it took a lot of courage to ask Connor to keep an eye on Salvatore when they went off to fight a demon later that day in a town called Hoopeston a few hours away.

    I was a wreck while they were gone.

    When they returned the next morning, I greeted my best friend and caught the faint scent of blood on her. As I commented on it, my werewolf stepped off the bus. I didn't think. I just moved into his arms, letting my friends know, including him, that I cared.

    Damn you, Connor.

    But the damage was done, and their battle was over. Mine was only beginning.

    While I drove the two of us back to my house not long after, it was Salvatore that broke the silence. Are you going to tell me what's going on, Angela? He smelled like blood. Lots of blood.

    When I didn't answer, he said, You smelled blood on Aisling. She was clean enough that you shouldn't have smelled it.

    I shrugged, not looking away from the road. So I have a sensitive nose.

    No. You would have smelled blood on me before. Something's different.

    I don't know what to tell you.

    He turned in his seat. That's not the only thing that's different.

    Salvatore was six-and-a-half feet tall and built for battle. With skin that was deeply tanned, light brown curly hair that was cut just long enough to look sexy and disheveled, and a beard cut short but a little too long to be stubble, it was distracting enough. His muscles bulged against his stiff, bloodied black shirt, his jeans hugged him in all the right places, and his hazel eyes were burning the side of my face.

    I was nearly a foot and a half shorter than the werewolf sitting next to me. I wasn't thin, but my figure was curvy enough to give me an hourglass shape. With my dark skin, dark eyes, and unsurprising dark, curly hair that fell just past the top of my shoulders, it made me look weak and feminine around him.

    I both liked and hated that.

    Okay, I sighed, what else is there?

    For one, you know things. Like you know when Aisling is listening on the phone, even though she doesn't make a sound. How do you know that?

    I shrugged.

    He growled.

    I'm not hiding anything from you. I glared at him for a moment before turning back to the road.

    That's right. Give in to the anger, Angela.

    I don't know what's going on, either, I went on. Sometimes I just know things, and apparently my nose is sharper than it was before. Other than that, I have no clue what's going on.

    I refused to look at him as his aura shifted from a contented purple to a deep pink that was rapidly changing to red.

    By the time I pulled into my driveway, I was a wreck. Part of me wanted to fling myself on Salvatore's lap. The other part, the rational part, wanted me to run.

    I picked the latter, knowing I was giving myself away in more ways than one. His sense of smell was far more heightened than mine, and I could tell he smelled my desire, because I was starting to smell it. It was like an exotic spice mixed with musk.

    Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him grin at me as I shoved the car in park, pulled the parking break, and pulled out the key.

    Scrambling out of the car as fast as I could, I realized, too late, as I started running for the door, that werewolves chased anything that ran from them.

    Chapter 2

    Before I could put the key in the front door, Salvatore was behind me. The scent of blood filled my nose and I froze.

    Angela Williams, why are you running from me? he growled.

    My knees nearly buckled under the sound of his voice, traveling down my spine like a stream of hot water. I'm not running from you, I replied.

    Fuck.

    Why did my voice have to sound raspy like I was begging for sex?

    Maybe that was because I was.

    Damn it. Damn him.

    Then why are you running? Why are you breathing so hard?

    I dropped my keys and knelt down to pick them up, trying to calm my breathing. When I stood up, I flinched. He was right beside me. His hot breath hit my cheek as he leaned toward me. I turned to face him and squared my shoulders. My eyes met his and his red aura darkened. Tell your wolf to calm down, I evaded.

    He took a step forward and I took a step back, tripping unceremoniously over a pot of desiccated mums. His arm shot out and caught me before I fell and then he pushed me against the house in the next instant.

    His arms were pressed on either side of my shoulders, surrounding me. I'm trying, he breathed and closed his eyes.

    I reached up and touched Salvatore's cheek for the first time. The hairs of his short, honey-brown beard tickled against my palm as his eyes opened and bored into mine.

    Forcing myself to keep my hands from running through his curly hair, or doing something else equally stupid, like kissing him, I just stared back.

    My heart was hammering in my chest so loud, I was sure he could hear it. I forgot about your instincts. I'm sorry.

    Before I realized what I was doing, my gaze dropped to his mouth and I licked my lips.

    Three things happened at once. His aura darkened to a deep pulsating red, his eyes watched the movement, and he growled at me.

    Damn.

    His aura was red, but I was behaving like prey. I didn't know if he wanted to have sex with me or if he wanted to eat me. I hoped for the former and tried to figure out what to do.

    I was enticing the wolf, not calming him.

    But did I really want him calm?

    Yes. Yes, I did.

    So, I did the only thing I could think of to break his fixation on me. I dropped my hand from his face and wrapped my arms around his waist. I let the fear and worry that I carried for days wash over me, blanketing the desire rushing through my veins like a thick, liquid fire.

    Burying my face into his dark shirt, I breathed him in, smelling mostly blood, and then I rested my cheek on his chest, just over his heart. His pulse was fast like mine, but it was slowing.

    His arms wrapped around me a moment later and he dipped his head to smell my hair. But he didn't say anything else. He held me as we both calmed down.

    After some time, he finally released me and took my keys to open the door for me. We stepped inside and I looked around. The space was the same as always. Simple furnishings that didn't allow for clutter. I didn't have a television, but it didn't matter. I read. It was what I loved.

    White built-in bookshelves flanked the fireplace to our left and a small conversation area was in front of it, with yet another bookshelf in the small hallway that led to the bathroom, bedrooms, and kitchen.

    Bugs sauntered up to us as Salvatore shut the door behind me. The gray feline was sashaying his hips as he padded toward us, green eyes watching me as he moved. Meh, he said in a half meow.

    Hi, buddy, I said and bent to scoop him up. But as soon as my fingers touched his fur, I lost control over my body.

    The cat jumped out of the way before I could fall on top of him. Salvatore moved to my side and was on his knees an instant later. He brushed my hair out of my face.

    I couldn't talk. I couldn't move, but I was still conscious.

    What the hell is happening to me?

    Angela? Salvatore asked as he checked me over.

    I could only see him out of my peripheral vision, because my eyes wouldn't cooperate either. They were focused ahead of me, where Bugs sat, whipping his tail around, watching me with intelligent green eyes.

    My mind was fully functional, so why couldn't I move?

    As I continued to lay there, frozen, Salvatore's aura shifted to gray, mirroring my unease. I can smell your fear.

    Bugs's eyes remained locked with mine and I watched him take a few steps forward. He shoved his head into my hand before my mind went blank and everything went black.

    Faintly, I heard the sound of Salvatore's deep voice calling for me, but it moved further away as something dragged me down deeper into the darkness.

    For a while, I was pulled from behind by something I couldn't see. I smelled nothing, heard nothing. Saw nothing. Felt nothing but that pull. And my fear grew with each passing moment. I tried to speak, but no sound escaped my lips.

    Eventually, lights flew by, like speeding past streetlights on a highway. But nothing was there. Just light.

    Then, it felt as though I was pulled through some kind of thick water that sucked me in and enveloped me.

    I panicked.

    Whatever was happening, I was about to drown. I struggled, but my body wouldn't move. There was only enough control to hold my breath.

    Pressure built in my head, growing until I had no choice but to breathe in.

    You can breathe, something growled from behind me.

    It didn't matter, because I took an involuntary breath, and was surprised when air filled my lungs, not the dense wetness that surrounded me.

    You can read my mind?

    Yes, I can, but only down here.

    Who are you?

    You know me as Bugs.

    Bugs?

    Before I could throw strings of questions at him, he replied, I am your guide. A cacophony of questions sounded off in my head but he answered none of them. Silence. We are almost there.

    In the next instant, I was standing on solid ground, breathing air, dry, and in control of my body again. Bugs? I called, but nothing responded.

    I was standing in the middle of a street, the light was dim as if dusk was giving way to twilight and left everything in shadows, but still bright enough that everything seemed lit with sepia tones.

    In the distance, I could see buildings that looked dirty, like no one bothered to clean anything in decades or more. The street was littered with trash that bounced and traveled across the pavement in the cool breeze.

    There were no cars, no people.

    I shivered.

    Something moved out of the corner of my eye and I turned to look. A girl of about sixteen was limping toward me. Her blonde hair was in disarray and stuck out in odd places, like she hadn't showered in weeks.

    I noticed her clothes were dirty and torn, and as she moved closer, I gasped. Blood was oozing from a bullet hole on the left side of her forehead, just above her eye. The other side of her face was awful. It looked like she was dragged across the pavement.

    Her throat was slit and it looked like someone carved some kind of symbol into her chest, like a wavy cross. She continued to amble toward me and I noticed cuts and bruises through the various tears in her clothing. As my eyes traveled down, I realized she was walking on a broken ankle.

    Then terror washed over me as her pale, dead eyes locked with mine.

    The dead girl flickered and in the next instant, she was standing in front of me, instead of nearly twenty yards away. I flinched and stumbled backward from the shock.

    Do not be afraid, she said, but her mouth didn't move. Her voice sounded ethereal, as if she spoke with more than one voice.

    What the hell is going on? I cried. My voice sounded more afraid than strong, like I hoped.

    "You are in the Spirit Realm, Angela."

    Of all the things I ever read in the supernatural lore from the vault, the information kept by Nashville’s Guardians, I never heard of such a place.

    She must have seen the confusion on my face, because she said, "The Spirit Realm is where ghosts come after we cross over. It is neither heaven nor hell."

    Am I dead?

    No. You are visiting.

    Okay. I relaxed a little. What do you want?

    Our realm is in danger, Angela Williams. You are the only one that can help us. I wasn't sure if that was an answer to my question.

    What could I do? I was only human.

    You are not safe here, she said without speaking from her mouth and looked around.

    That was when I felt it. Dozens of eyes were watching me, but I couldn't see any of them. I could only see the girl in front of me.

    I blinked and when my eyes opened again, we were inside a derelict house. A tiny dwelling that looked like it was left to the elements nearly a century before.

    Almost an inch of dust covered every surface within its walls and as the girl limped through the space, she didn't leave a trail through it. Was she really a ghost?

    Yes, I am a ghost, she responded.

    Great, ghosts could read minds, too.

    Not all ghosts, I am the only one, I believe. I suspect it is the only reason I have been able to resist her power.

    Whose power?

    She is controlling us, exploiting the cracks in our realm, driving many mad. Her goal is to incite violence from us and then release us upon your world.

    I wondered how dangerous ghosts could be in the world, because as far as I knew, ghosts were there already. Though my best friend's fiancé liked to tease and poke fun, his philosophy of everything is real was actually a good one to embrace. Especially in my line of work.

    But if the girl in front of me was any indication, she couldn't even sift the dust on the floor as she paced back and forth with that limp. With every step she took, I heard a crack in her ankle.

    In answer to my unspoken line of thinking, she stomped her foot on the ground with a loud crunch and her ankle snapped further to the side. The vibration traveled through the floor as a huge plume of dust erupted upward like she just dropped a bomb.

    My eyes widened and I took a step back.

    We can touch whatever we want, if we choose to do so. Her dead eyes locked with mine and I understood the implications of insane ghosts on Earth.

    What exactly do you think I can do to help you?

    You do not know it yet, but you are powerful. You are the only one more powerful than her. You are the only one that can stop her.

    Who and what is she?

    "I do not know what she is or her name. Having a name in the Spirit Realm is dangerous if the wrong ghosts know it."

    Great. The dead girl in front of me knew my name. Who else knew it? And what could they do with my name? I needed to be very careful with my thoughts.

    Your secret remains with me so long as she doesn't take control of me, too. I'm one of the last of us that is free from her influence. There are a few still in hiding, however. Her eyes locked with mine again and I could see the fear in them.

    Ghosts could get scared?

    How can I help you? I have no idea what's happening, let alone what kind of power I might have.

    You must learn to use it before you can break her hold on the realm and the ghosts within before the walls crumble under the weight of her power.

    What can I do to learn it?

    You are already beginning to develop. Do not shy away from those changes. An open mind is necessary to use the power. Your body is the key to the rest. She turned to look at the wall behind her.

    As if a projector turned on with an old movie, images began to play. My werewolf knelt on the floor between my cat's unconscious body and mine, his eyes moving back and forth between us.

    I couldn't see his aura, but from the faint smirk on his face, I thought he understood that I would be okay. I didn't know how. Maybe he knew something I didn't.

    He reached out and scooped me up in his arms like I weighed no more than my cat. He carried me into my bedroom and set me down on my bed before carefully removing my flats. He stood there and watched me for a moment, and then took a step toward the door.

    He froze and turned around to look at me again. While he looked at me, his shoulders squared and he removed his shoes.

    I had a brief moment of panic that he might do something to me, but I knew him better than that. Sure enough, he settled on my bed next to me and pulled me into his arms, resting his head on my pillow.

    With a look of pure bliss, he kissed the top of my head, breathed in deep, and my heart melted.

    The red I saw so many times in his aura wasn't just lust. He was in love with me. I could see it in his features. He was completely unguarded in that moment. He looked at home with me. At peace.

    If I was being honest with myself, I loved him too. I just never let myself think about it, consider it, or fathom it. But ever since he came into my life, I liked having him around.

    And I would be devastated if he left.

    Dead Girl made a noise. It wasn't a cough, but it was close. I looked away from the wall and saw what was happening.

    The dust. The inch of it that covered everything. It was all floating in the air like a wind had picked it up and tossed it around.

    What the hell? Am I doing that?

    Dead Girl nodded, That is how you will save us.

    Before I had a chance to respond, something yanked me backward and the Spirit Realm disappeared from sight.

    Chapter 3

    Warmth enveloped me.

    One second I was standing in the Spirit Realm and the next, I was being pulled backward in a rush. But it was fast. I barely registered that I was being pulled away before everything fell away into nothing.

    Moving closer to the warmth and burying my face in it, I shivered, but I wasn't cold. It was a nice, toasty feeling that my body protested against as I started to wake.

    My blanket trembled in response and I thought I heard a deep purr. Bugs was loud when he was content, I mused. Then the blanket tightened and sent heat all across my body like a whoosh of wildfire.

    It wasn't a blanket I was wrapped in. It was Salvatore. He was the one purring in contentment.

    I didn't realize werewolves could purr, but sure enough, he was. My body pressed tighter against his. I wasn't awake enough yet to realize exactly what I was doing.

    Right.

    Even I couldn't buy the lie.

    But I didn't care.

    His hand brushed my hair away from my face and he tried to pull away but I fisted his shirt, still stiff from the dried blood, and pulled him toward me.

    I wasn't sure if I really yanked him that hard, or if he responded with a zeal that propelled him further than we both anticipated, but he ended up on top of me, pressing me into the mattress.

    And it felt good having him there.

    Hmmm, Salvatore, I breathed and nuzzled his chest.

    He tried to roll off me but I shook my head. Surprisingly, he stayed. But he lifted up on his arms so he wasn't putting his full weight on me.

    My eyes were still closed. I didn't want to open them. I was afraid if I did, I would change my mind and shut down.

    Reaching up, I raked my nails down his back, trying to get him to move closer again. He shuddered and groaned at the same time.

    That was when I felt him, his desire pressing against my leg. I tried to wriggle my legs out from under him as I gasped, but he didn't move.

    Angela, his deep voice growled. We're not doing this.

    My eyes snapped open and I glared at him. Why the hell not?

    Because it's not right. Whatever is going on, you aren't yourself.

    I sighed, You've got to be kidding me, Salvatore. You're acting like I'm some delicate flower. I'm twenty-two. I promise I won't break.

    I'm old-fashioned.

    I snorted. Oh, please. You're only a few years older than me. For emphasis, I fisted his shirt again and tried to pull him down.

    For your information, he growled, I'm sixty-one years old.

    I froze.

    What?

    You don't even look thirty.

    He didn't. His curly, light brown hair showed no signs of gray. His skin was tanned and flawless, making him look more exotic than anything. Just the sight of him made my mouth water.

    It's a part of being a werewolf. He shrugged. "We live a very long time. And I am old-fashioned. Don't tempt me."

    I grinned devilishly at him and his eyes dropped to watch. His expression darkened and his red aura burned brighter. I know you want me, Salvatore. I want you. So what's the problem?

    You aren't yourself. I have no idea what's going on, but you're acting differently. If you were yourself, you wouldn't act like this.

    Anger washed over me and I let go of his shirt. He rolled away before I could push him. You barely know me, I breathed.

    Damn.

    I let the hurt show in my voice and his head snapped to the side to look at me. I turned away and sat up, letting my legs hang over the edge of the bed.

    Salvatore was sitting next to me with his arm over my shoulder in the next instant. I stiffened and he dropped his arm.

    I know I haven't known you very long. But I know you well enough to notice when something is different. I don't know what happened to you when you passed out, and I don't know if that has anything to do with what's different about you.

    Bugs sauntered into the doorway and sat down. His tail twitched and he licked his lips like he just ate something. The look in his eyes told me that what happened was real. But I was still too confused to have any idea what to think about it.

    I took a wary glance into his green eyes but spoke to Salvatore. I went somewhere. I don't know what it was, but I wasn't asleep and it wasn't a dream. Other than that I don't know any more than you do.

    What an idiot. I couldn't believe what I was doing when I woke up. I was pretty sure I was in love with the

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