Bone Cold: A Soul Shamans Novel (Volume 2) (9 page)

“No,” I whispered, leaning over him as if I could shield him from the attack. My hands fluttered across his body, the bitter tang of nausea clawing up my throat. “No, no, no, no.”

We stayed huddled in the snow for what seemed like hours. Nathan kept shaking under my trembling hands until the wind died down, until the ice and snow drifted to a stop, until his moans disappeared into silence.

Laura dropped to my side and placed a hand on mine. I twisted to look into her eyes, my own full of frozen tears. She gave me a sad smile and glanced down at Nathan. “He’s alive, Holly. He’s going to be okay.”

“For now.” Every beat of my heart brought on a new burst of pain. “There’s no telling how much life they stole from him today. It had to be a lot.”

Nathan still shook under my hands, and I leaned down to press my palms against his neck, feeling the pulse of his heartbeat under my fingertips. It was steady and strong. A part of me felt a surge of welcome relief while another part still raged inside my head. I knew I should have never let him get involved in my shaman life, even just to check out a grave. Now, he’d been attacked, and once again, it was all because of me.

Heavy footsteps pounded the ground. Twisting, I looked up into my father’s weathered face. He frowned down at where we sat huddled in the snow, his gun slung over his shoulder and a half a dozen soldiers—or whatever they were—spread across the hillside behind him.

“Holly.” He let out a heavy sigh. “I was really hoping I wouldn’t see you here.”

My heart stung, even though I knew he didn’t mean it the way it sounded. Or did he? Not a single part of me was surprised that he’d appeared in the cemetery tonight. Maybe this is what Wanda foresaw all along. The spirits would swarm, they’d attack Nathan, and my father would reappear to save the day. Except, this time, he was too late.

“If you’re here for the spirits, pretty sure they’ve been gone awhile.”

His eyes drifted to Nathan’s prone form. “Did they attack your friend?”

“Yes.” My voice caught. “He’s still alive though.”

“I assume your mother has taught you some healing spells.” Dad motioned to the men behind him, and they all turned as if they were one and strode back down the hillside, the ice crunching underneath their heavy boots. “Take him home, give him the proper herbs, and let him get some rest.”

“Dad.” I stood from Nathan’s side, crossed my arms over my chest, and lifted my chin. “What are you doing here? What the hell is going on?”

“I told you last night, Holly. I’m here to stop these abnormal spirits from hurting anyone.”

“How did you know they’d be in the cemetery tonight?” I asked, determined to get more answers than he was trying to give.

“We have some special equipment that gives us readings on spirit activity. The cemetery had a lot of blips on the screen, but it appears it didn’t alert us quickly enough in this particular situation.” He glanced from me to where Laura and Nathan shivered on the ground. “You kids be sure to stay home tonight. Seaport won’t be a safe place.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Laura stood and moved to my side.

“The readings are showing…” He cocked his head for a moment, studying me. “Did anything odd happen before the attack?”

My eyes darted to where Anthony laid underneath the ground. “That grave. It’s Anthony Lombardi’s, the man who attacked Mom last year. We thought he was still alive, but…there he is.”

“And just before the attack, Holly touched the headstone. Something happened, didn’t it?” Laura looped a hand through my arm and squeezed.

“Magic,” I said. “The headstone felt like magic. After that, the spirits surrounded us before we could figure out what was going on.”

Dad’s eyebrows rose high on his forehead. “Magic? Oh, Holly. I don’t know how he’s done done it, but when you touched his headstone, it unleashed a horde of spirits on this town.”

CHAPTER 8

A
fter Dad dropped the news that dozens of shaman-resistant spirits were roaming the streets of Seaport, Laura and I headed back to my house to give Nathan some herbal treatment. If it weren’t for him, I would have demanded to join the task force against the spirits. Dad’s team had huddled together, barking codes I didn’t understand into walkie-talkies and pouring over maps of the surrounding area. Everything felt electric and full of purpose.

We’d been ordered to go home, lock our doors, and stay inside. Not that locks would do any good if a spirit wandered into our neighborhood. Apparently, nothing we could do would stop these new arrivals from sucking away our life if they got close enough. We were as helpless as humans, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

When we pulled up in front of the house, I couldn’t help but notice the perfectly manicured shrubs, the clean windows, the polished white panels. My heart ached for Mom to open that front door and welcome me inside with outstretched arms, to tell me that everything would be okay. But the door stayed still and silent, shut hard against the outside, like a crypt.

Jason had left while we were in town to join his family, so Laura and I had to wrestle Nathan’s slack body out of the truck ourselves. Grunting, we eased him off the seat and ducked under an arm each, shuffling into the house with his weight pressing hard on our shoulders. When I kicked the front door open, Astral shrieked and darted down the hallway to escape. I couldn’t blame him.

Once we’d eased Nathan on the couch, I headed to Mom’s room to grab some healing supplies from her closet. I had a few sage leaves in my supply bag, but Mom would have the really strong stuff, the kind Wanda sold in the back room where no one could see.

Frowning, my mind wandered to that strange orange-haired woman. She must have known what would happen tonight. The whole point in sending me there was so that I could find that headstone. But how could she do such a thing? What if Nathan had died? Fisting my hands, I closed my eyes and let my emotions wash over me. Anger, pain, and something bitter and sharp…fear. Dad’s team seemed prepared enough with their crazy rifles, but what if they weren’t successful tonight? If these spirits won the battle, there’d be no telling how many lives they might steal.

Shaking my head, I grabbed the herbs and headed back into the living room. Laura was murmuring on her phone, her back to me. When she turned around, she bit her lip and shut her cell with a click.

“What?” I asked, dread pooling in my stomach. “I know that look. Something else is wrong.”

“Nothing’s
wrong
, but you’re not going to like it,” Laura said quickly. “George just called. She said she’d heard news on the grapevine that demons were on the loose. She wants to come here. Says she thinks she’ll be safer inside your house. I tried to tell her no, but…”

I frowned. “That whole thing between her and Wanda was really weird. I’m not sure I trust her.”

“Me either, but she’s kind of coming over anyway,” Laura said. “She didn’t listen when I tried to tell her no.”

The doorbell rang, and my eyebrows shot up my forehead. “Okay, I’m going to be seriously creeped out if that’s her. How could she have gotten here so fast?”

“I don’t know.” Laura’s eyes darted to the front door. “Maybe it’s your dad or something.”

“It’s not going to be my dad,” I said, dropping the supplies onto the coffee table. I pushed through the Chilean wooden beads and paused at the door. It was at times like these we could really use an eyehole to see who was creeping around outside. Bracing myself, I swung open the door to reveal George leaning on the doorframe, one hand on her phone as she texted away.

“Hey, George,” I said. “Now’s not a good time.”

“I know. That’s why I want in there,” she said, pointing down the hallway as Laura appeared behind me.

“How’d you get here so fast?” Laura asked. “Have you been hanging around on the porch or something?”

George raised her eyebrows and ambled into the house, kicking off her snow-crusted sneakers before disappearing down the hall. It was then I noticed she hadn’t bothered with a coat, a hat, or a pair of gloves. My scalp prickled.
Weird
. With a heavy sigh, I shut the door and gave Laura a look.

“Sorry,” Laura whispered. “Maybe it won’t be so bad.”

“Yeah, right.” We headed toward the living room where we found George frowning down at Nathan.

“He’s not looking so great,” she said, plopping into the recliner where Mom used to spend almost every waking moment of her life. The distant click of knitting needles still haunted me sometimes. I could remember exactly how she’d looked, eyes blurry, face drawn. Turning away, I tucked a blanket around Nathan’s shoulders. Now was not the time to take a stroll down memory lane.

“Yeah, well, he got attacked,” I said. “He’s lucky to even be alive.”

Swallowing hard, I placed a few of Mom’s healing leaves on Nathan’s damp forehead before taking the rest to make the strongest dosage of tea in the world. While the kettle boiled, I heard the distant hum of George’s voice and the surprising bark of Laura’s laugh. Frowning, I craned my head around the doorframe. They sat curved over George’s phone, looking down at something on the screen and trying their best to hold back their laughter.

What the hell?
I didn’t know what George was up to now, but I didn’t like it. My Intuition prickled at my scalp. Somehow, she was involved in the magic world. Maybe she had the same kind of power that Wanda was so hellbent on hiding. She certainly wasn’t a shaman, even though she kept insinuating herself into our world and talking about demons and spirits and whatever else was going on around here.

Unfortunately for me, George was the least of my problems. There were much worse things to worry about than the new weird girl at school. Spirits-—or demons as she liked to call them—were on the hunt in our town, all because of me. And my boyfriend had been their first victim.

When I carried Nathan’s tea into the living room, Laura and George fell silent. I tried to catch Laura’s eyes to see if I could get some kind of hint as to what they’d been talking about, but she did her best to avoid my gaze. Instead, she flipped through the history book Mom had left for me to read. The one I hadn’t had a chance to look through yet.

Again with the secrets. This wasn’t like Laura. Frowning, I squatted next to Nathan and brushed damp strands of hair off his forehead. My heart constricted as I watched the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. He might be okay now, but he definitely wouldn’t be if a spirit attacked him again. I couldn’t let him get involved anymore, no matter what he said.

Gently, I lifted his head from the pillow and raised the steaming cup to his lips. His eyelids fluttered open, and he made a wheezing sound when he tried to speak. “Holly? What happened?”

“Shhh,” I said. “Drink this and go back to sleep.”

He nodded groggily and opened his mouth to gulp down the healing tea. The liquid dripped onto his chin, and I swiped it away with a napkin before lowering his head to the pillow. I removed the leaves from his forehead, now soaked through with sweat, and placed a fresh batch on his clammy skin.

“Is he going to be okay?” George asked, actually sounding concerned.

“He’s going to be okay as he can be, but there’s nothing I can do to replace what he’s lost.” I stood from Nathan’s side to stare out the front window at the dark world. Bare branches bent sideways in the wind, and power lines whipped overhead. A plastic bag from the local deli skittered along the empty road as the streetlights cast crazy shadows on the squat houses surrounding mine. “I’m going to try to call my mom again.”

I left the living room and found myself back in Mom’s room, face down on her bed. It smelled of roses and perfume and Astral’s fur. A moment later, I felt the soft bounce of something landing on the bed by my face. Lifting my head, I saw Astral sitting beside me, his eyes glittering in a way that made him look way more intelligent than any cat should be. I reached up and scratched his neck.

“I feel lost, Astral,” I said. “Even more lost than last year. At least then I had some kind of plan.”

He meowed, but I didn’t understand the language of cats. Whatever intelligence he had, he kept it hidden in his eyes. For once, I wished he could speak and tell me what to do. Rolling onto my back, I tried Mom’s cell again. This time it didn’t even ring, going straight to voicemail instead. She’d probably turned off her phone, I tried to tell myself. She was out on a mission after all. It’s not like she was normally contactable when she was off on shaman business. There had been plenty of times I hadn’t been able to talk to her for days.

But the fresh grave holding Anthony Lombardi’s body changed things. A lot. Instead of trying Mom’s phone again, I wrote out a text to warn her of what we’d found in the cemetery. I decided not to mention Dad yet, but I made sure to let her know that spirits were back in Seaport. I wasn’t going to make the same mistake as last time. If something was going down, she had to know.

“Holly! Come quick!” Laura yelled. I jumped up from the bed and pounded my feet down the hallway, my breath caught in my throat for fear that Nathan had taken a turn for the worse, that he really wasn’t okay after all.