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  GLOOM’S WHISPER

  Vampire Magic – Book 3

  By

  Sela Croft

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Chapter 1A

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 1A

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  Sela Croft

  Chapter 1

  Callie

  The sun warmed my face and birds chirped. A soft breeze rustled the leaves of the trees outside my bedroom window. I rolled over and pulled the pillow over my face, awakening from what felt like a very deep slumber.

  “Close the blinds,” I said. “The sun is…”

  I sat up in bed, then threw my sheets aside.

  It was strange to feel the sun on my face. I looked at my familiar surroundings, yet felt lost.

  A cold sweat broke out on my skin. I looked about, uncertain. My room looked the same. The walls were covered with posters. My dresser was messy, with a collection of hairbrushes, make-up and jewelry tossed about, in an order known only to me—a state that incessantly annoyed Emma, my adoptive mother.

  My laptop was on my desk, the screen saver playing an endless reel of the handful of pictures I’d acquired of me with my sister Rosamon and our only true friend Noah. All was in place, exactly as it should have been.

  The rug was on the floor and my jacket hung on the back of my desk chair. My bed was in the corner, then Rosamon’s right next to it.

  “Rosamon?” I said and pushed myself off the bed, then made my way across the creaky wooden floor. “Are you awake?”

  Approaching her bed, I realized she wasn’t in it. Panic raced through me, but quickly subsided, when I noticed the indent in the pillow and the blanket balled up, haphazardly. She’d slept there, because there was no way that Emma would have let her bed remain that way for more than a couple of hours.

  My sister must have just gotten up. I drifted back to my bed, wondering what was going on. I couldn’t fathom how I’d gotten there.

  My head ached. The sun continued to beat into the room, blinding me whenever I ventured a skeptical glance in its direction. I searched the recesses of my mind to pull up any recent memory.

  Logan.

  The name rang in my mind on repeat.

  Logan. The sun. The light. The darkness. Rosamon. Magic.

  My head ached over trying to recall Logan, who he was and what he meant to me.

  Emma’s voice called out to me from the kitchen downstairs. “Hey sleepyhead, hurry up. You’re going to be late for school.”

  I’d thought it was still summer, so school didn’t fit.

  I moved across my room, methodically going through my morning routine. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. I collected my clothes and headed toward the bathroom. Passing a full-length mirror on the back of the closet door, I paused, taking a moment to examine my reflection. I looked the same. I wore the same plaid pajamas I’d worn for years. The threads frayed in the same places. Nervously, I pulled at them and took a step closer to my reflection.

  The mirror.

  The thought shook me violently. I shrank back from the reflective glass encased in the same purple plastic frame it had always been, eyeing it as if I were seeing it for the first time. I held my breath, waiting for something to happen.

  Yet, I wasn’t sure what to expect.

  When nothing happened, I laughed half-heartedly to myself and leaned in again. I must be going crazy. I scrutinized my face.

  My dark black hair fell to my shoulders. And my eyes…

  My eyes.

  While I stared at my eyes in the mirror, I tried to recall recent events.

  Logan. Vampires. Fae.

  A dream, perhaps? Vampires weren’t real. I turned away from my reflection, and headed for the bathroom.

  I showered, and splashed water on my face multiple times, forcing myself out of the state of half-slumber that clouded my thoughts. Yet, I couldn’t seem to remember what I’d done the night before. And still didn’t have a clue about Rosamon.

  She wouldn’t leave without telling me. That was unlike her.

  She was gone.

  But I was baffled about where she’d gone.

  I stepped out of the shower and reached for my clothes, noting how soft they felt. I stroked the material along my cheek, the familiar scent of home easing the dread forming in my gut.

  The clothes were soft, so unlike the clothes that they had given to me.

  Who…and when?

  “Logan,” I whispered. Speaking the name aroused powerful emotions.

  The name was familiar and comforting. I said it again, letting it hang in air for a moment and tried to analyze its significance. Removing the towel from my hair, my mind drifted aimlessly, searching for a glimmer of recognition linked to that name. I leaned in to wipe the steam from the mirror.

  And caught a glimpse of my reflection again.

  My reaction was more dramatic. My violet eyes peered back at me, pleading. The image in the mirror wasn’t me. It looked like me and moved when I moved. But the girl staring back at me knew something I didn’t know.

  There was terror in her eyes.

  A memory came to me. Whether a dream or fantasy, I didn’t know. But the voice knocked the wind from my lungs.

  “She’s in there.” It was my voice. “We have to go through the mirror and save her.”

  Then Logan spoke. “We have no choice…”

  I could see his face, his copper brown hair, his emerald green eyes. I felt his arms wrapped around me. My heart broke, as I struggled with my own desires. I wanted to stay with him. But I needed to find my sister.

  A force pulled at me. It came from nowhere and surrounded us. Logan held me. I didn’t want to let go, but I had to. A strong wind picked up and my knees shook. My legs buckled, and I fell back with a loud thud.

  “What’s going on up there? Are you okay?” Emma called out.

  “I’m fine,” I said and tried to get it together. “I just slipped.”

  The tile floor below me was cold and covered with the mist from my shower. I drug my hands along the slippery surface, tracing lines in the fine layer of water.

  That was real. The cooling effect of the tile against my fingers brought me back. The images were only a dream. But I was at home. The memo
ry wasn’t real.

  I forced myself up, shattering any connection I had with the dream world and the phantom beings who resided there. After pulling on my clothes and running a brush through my hair, I avoided looking back at the mirror. No matter how close I was to convincing myself that the blurs of images were fake, I still couldn’t bring myself to venture another glance at my reflection.

  “Hurry up, Rosamon!” Emma called up the stairs.

  I popped my head out of the bathroom, prepared to tell my mother that my sister had already left, when her eyes landed on me.

  “Come on, you’re going to be late. Your sister has already left.”

  “Yeah, mom, I’m coming.”

  It wasn’t uncommon for Emma to confuse my sister with me. Even though we didn’t look alike, and our personalities were different, our mother often had what we called mom moments, when she would call one of us by the other’s name.

  Pushing all other thoughts from my mind, I finished my morning routine. I chose not to put on make-up and risk having another episode. It wouldn’t matter, either way. I was never one to care too much about my appearance.

  Breakfast was served, the smells causing my stomach to rumble with hunger. The first taste sent waves of satisfaction rippling through me. It was as if that was the first meal I’d had in days. The meal tasted so rich and fresh. I shoveled the food in, as fast as I could, barely breathing between bites.

  “Slow down,” Emma said, laughing as she finished packing my lunch. “You’ll choke.”

  “First you tell me to hurry up, then you tell me to slow down. There’s no pleasing you,” I said, smirking at her.

  She walked over to me, smiled down at me with a mother’s love, then rustled my hair.

  My hair; my eyes; my scent.

  “I’m going to walk to school today,” I said, pushed away from the table, then grabbed my lunch from the counter. “It’s sunny for a change.”

  “Enjoy it while you can,” Emma said then I ran out the front door.

  The day was perfect. There was a soft breeze blowing and the sun beat down on my skin. I turned my face upward, letting the warm rays wash away the few remaining remnants of my dreams. Inhaling deeply, I stepped off my front porch.

  My walk to school would only take ten minutes, and thanks to Emma’s constant pestering, I had left a few moments early. I decided to take advantage of that and walk slowly. I hadn’t taken the time before, to appreciate the beauty of where I lived.

  The trees were lush and the air was pure. The houses lining the street were modest, and each one was different from the last. I observed them, one-by-one, as I wandered down the long, familiar street.

  A twig snapped behind me, causing me to jump.

  It wasn’t like me to be jumpy. Especially not in our town. Nothing bad happened in Astoria. But for some reason, there was residual doubt looming in the back of my mind that something was very wrong.

  Turning around slowly, I noticed a large dog stalking through the bushes behind me. With dark gray fur and piercing black eyes, it looked more like a wolf than a dog. It was probably a stray, so I turned my attention back to my walk.

  I tried to relax into an easy stroll, but I couldn’t. My mind raced and I glanced back at the dog—wolf—following behind me. It wasn’t until I turned down the street that lead directly to my school that the animal lost interest and took another route. I sighed with relief.

  “I’m just being…”

  I began, but my words dropped off when a large SUV turned down the street behind me, picking up where the wolf-dog left off. I tried to get a better view of who was in there, but the windows were tinted.

  Vampires. Fae. My eyes. Logan.

  My thoughts rippled with memories—dreams—again. I turned back toward my destination, but my heart raced. I was no longer taking my time, and needed to get inside the school, as soon as possible.

  Chapter 2

  Callie

  I burst into the school. Before the doors swung closed behind me, I spotted the black SUV disappearing down the street.

  “What’s wrong with her?” one of the students said.

  The students lining the hallway stared at me with amusement.

  “Today…or always?” another said, then elbowed the girl next to him.

  My classmates laughed in unison, making no effort to hide their mockery. I ignored their remarks, and brushed the hair back from my face, then took a deep breath.

  I have to find Rosamon. Maybe she’ll know what’s going on.

  I was about to head toward her locker, when the first period bell rang.

  “How is that possible?” I asked, spinning around to see the students go hurrying down the halls toward their classes. “I got here early.”

  “Get to class, Miss Mayfair,” a teacher’s voice said.

  I didn’t know where the voice had come from, though. It was swallowed up by the students’ hurried footsteps ringing out and the chorus of excited chatter that accompanied them.

  I didn’t have a class schedule. “But what class do I go to?”

  No one bothered to answer me, and in the blink of an eye, the hall was empty. One by one, the classroom doors around me slammed shut. They echoed in the locker-lined hallways.

  My first period was history.

  That seemed about right. So, I adjusted my backpack and began to make my way toward the same classroom I’d been in countless times before. I turned down the first hall I came to, expecting my classroom to be there on the left.

  It wasn’t.

  The door was decorated with Spanish sayings and greetings, way too colorful for our stuffy, boring teacher. Shaking my head, I went back the way I came. I tried the second hallway, instead. Again, I was met with a row of doors that didn’t belong where they were.

  I couldn’t figure out what was going on.

  The halls looked different. The tiles under my feet weren’t blue and white; they were grey. I must have stumbled into a part of the building that was unfamiliar. So I turned back.

  I turned, again and again, more flustered with each failure—until eventually, I was unable to find my way back to the hall where I had started my endless journey.

  The history teacher’s sharp voice called out to me. “Rosamon!”

  I spun around to see him lean his head out of one of the doors. “What are you doing? Get in here or I’ll write you up for skipping class.”

  “I… I’m not…” I sputtered, and looked over my shoulder, wondering if my sister was there.

  “I’m not interested in your excuses, Rosamon. Let’s go…”

  Unsure what else to do, I followed him into class. The classroom looked the same as I had remembered it. I relaxed a little, despite the accusing eyes of students. I settled into my seat and rummaged in my backpack, finding my history book and notes where I’d left them.

  It wasn’t long after I’d opened my book and relaxed back in my chair, though, that the bell rang again. Bodies leaped up, excitedly talking as they hurried from the room.

  “I just got here,” I said, staring up at my teacher.

  “I know,” he said. “And if you don’t hurry, you’ll be late to your next class.”

  “My next class?”

  My head hurt, so I pinched my eyes shut, trying to get a grasp on what was going on.

  “Because when I’m not with you, it takes everything in me not to come running back to your side.”

  The words were spoken so clearly in my mind, that for a second, I expected to open my eyes and see Logan standing there. I knew his name; I knew his voice; I knew his face.

  But I didn’t know him.

  “Rosamon…hurry along.”

  “Yes, sir,” I said, then shuffled out of the room. The hall was filled with a sea of people. They were my peers. I recognized them. Yet, they didn’t appear to recognize me.

  “Rosamon,” one girl said and hurried in my direction. “Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you.”

  I shook my h
ead. “I’m not Rosamon,” I said, but when I turned she was gone.

  Elbows rammed into my side, as the students around me rushed to get to their next class. I didn’t know where to go, so I let my feet guide me. I ended up in a math class. It seemed to be where I was meant to be, except for the fact that that teacher referred to me by my sister’s name.

  Another short class, another mad dash through the halls. Another teacher calling me Rosamon, and another confusing exchange with a student in the hall. My morning was rushing by. The halls were less familiar, each time I stepped out into them.

  My surroundings looked fake—blurry. It was as if school was part of a dream, too. I followed a line of students toward a classroom.

  “Callie!”

  Hearing my own name nearly brought tears to my eyes. Finally, something felt right. What made the experience more exhilarating was that it was my sister who had called out to me.

  She pushed her way toward me, followed closely by Noah. Her long blond hair bounced around her shoulders, and her blue eyes were large and bright. Seeing her made me feel a wave of emotions I didn’t understand.

  When she was close, I reached out and took hold of her. I didn’t want to let her go, yet couldn’t explain why. I glanced at Noah, then at Rosamon. “What’s going on?”

  Their faces clouded with worry.

  “We have something important to tell you,” Noah said.

  “Rosamon,” I said, taking hold of her shoulders. “Life is so weird today.”

  “Pay attention to the differences, Callie,” she said softly, then glanced at Noah.

  “What differences?”

  “Where are you right now?”

  “I’m at school.”

  “Where were you yesterday?” Noah said.

  “I was…” my voice trailed off.

  Where was I last night? I had no recollection of anything before that morning. The only fleeting images I could pull from my mind were foreign—glass buildings, flying beasts, and a strange mirror.

  A female teacher’s voice barked at us. “What are you three doing? You’re supposed to be in class.”

  I hadn’t realized that the halls had emptied. My hands clung to my sister, as if some inner fear refused to allow me to release her. I was afraid that I wouldn’t be able to find her again.