by Cady Vance
I nodded. Ever since Anthony had blinked out—or whatever it was he’d done—I’d felt like a gazillion pounds had been lifted from my shoulders. And I needed a very long nap.
Laura’s dad groaned, and we turned our attention to him. He rolled over, mumbled words we couldn’t understand and then fell back to sleep.
“I think he’s going to be okay,” I said, glancing at the clock on the mantel. Four-thirty. We needed to hurry. “I know you've had a really shitty day, but could you help me put the protection wall back up and cast the incantation for my mom?” My heart lifted a little. “I have everything I need for it now.”
Laura grinned, her eyes sparkling through her tears. “God yes.”
***
Shaman magic swirled through me while Laura and I held hands over the flame, chanting the song to save my mom. Anthony’s blood was the last thing I’d needed according to the spell I'd found in mom’s South American jewelry box months ago. Now I had it, and all my power and passion was flowing from me and into the room.
When the last few notes left my mouth, I stared at my mom’s quiet form on her chair, watching the steady rising and falling of her chest. My own breath was held tight in my throat, my fingers gripping Laura’s hand, everything inside me begging for this to work. I didn’t know what I’d do if, after everything that had happened, this was all for nothing. If it didn’t save her. But at least I could never look back and ask myself what might have happened if I’d tried. What might have happened if I’d done everything I could.
Mom coughed, and instantly, I was by her side, my hair hanging down over her as I stared into her face. Her eyes cracked opened, and she coughed again. When she met my eyes, she smiled, and my entire body sung with joy. Laura was beside me. She reached out and grabbed my mom’s hand.
“You girls okay? Holly, what’s going on?” She reached a hand up to her face, and she felt her skin as if she’d never touched it before. “I'm back. How can I be back? Holly?” Her face fell as she stared at my shirt. I looked down and grimaced at the massive blood stain that was there. “What did you do?”
“It’s a long story, Mom,” I said. Astral purred by my feet and pranced around in excited circles. My lips split into the biggest grin I’d ever had. “You’re really back?”
Her eyes fluttered, and she yawned. “I’m exhausted. My body feels like it’s been run through a washing machine. Let me get some sleep, and we’ll talk about this later.” She paused, face softening. “Everything is going to be okay now.” She reached up a hand and touched my face. Then, her eyes closed.
***
An hour later, after Laura had gotten her dad home safe, I snuck back into my neighbor’s house, leaving Nathan snoozing on my couch. The spirit was waiting for me, silent, peaceful, calm. When I entered the Borderland, it wasted no time.
“You do not need his blood to banish me now,” it said.
I blinked in surprise, the colors whirling around us in random patterns.
“My old master is alive, but he was dead for a moment,” it said. I gasped. I hadn’t meant to kill Anthony, no matter how temporary it had been. “In that moment, I was released from being bound to him. I’m no longer dependent on him for food. Now all my brothers are free as well. I could not hurt him myself, or I would have long ago.”
I tried to wrap my head around what this meant. All those spirits he’d trapped, all the ones he’d bound himself to, were back in the world. I didn’t agree with Anthony’s morals, but I wasn’t so sure this was a good thing.
“He kept us hungry and used us for his own life-prolonging experiments. It made us very angry and very hungry. Some of my brothers could not control themselves when summoned, and they ended up slaughtering when they got their first taste of humans. This is not the way we are meant to exist. My brothers and I, for the most part, do not want to suck humans dry. We need to feed, and then move on.” The spirit did something that looked as if he were shaking his head. “With the master gone, this is how things are meant to be. Balanced.”
“Okay,” I said, understanding the spirit world a whole lot more, even though I wasn’t sure I agreed with the spirit’s views. It made sense to me, but what it said was such a foreign concept, I had a hard time truly believing it was right.
“I am grateful to you for holding the knife,” it said.
“What?” I asked, straightening my spine.
“I guided him to the blade,” it said. “It was time he let us go.”
My hand flew to my mouth. “I thought you couldn’t hurt him.”
“You hurt him. I only guided.”
“Loophole,” I murmured.
“As a token of my gratitude, I will leave this place willingly, but I am still indebted to you, Holly Bennett.” It bowed, then vanished. I was left sitting there looking at nothing but dark swirling masses, shadows and colors all blending into one.
What had I done?
***
The crispy scent of bacon tickled my nose. Bacon? This must be some delicious dream about dancing bacon and miles of hamburgers. My head throbbed. I pulled the sheet over my eyes and groaned. My body sure did ache a lot for an awesome dream.
“Hey, Holly.”
I bolted up straight to see Nathan standing just inside my bedroom door with a massive breakfast tray of…crispy bacon, scrambled eggs and oh-my-god-strawberries-and-whipped-cream. His messy hair slipped into his eyes. He stood there in his silly red polo with the Robin patch that made me smile. That and the hopeful look in his eyes.
“Hey.” I brushed my sleep-tousled hair away from my face and tried to shield my ratty t-shirt with the comforter. It was hard to process my thoughts with only half my mind awake. Was this part of the delicious dream? A hot guy bringing me breakfast in bed sure was a great way to snooze the morning away…
“I brought you some food.” He took a few steps closer and handed me the tray. The smell was almost intoxicating, but I quickly realized I was very awake. Dreams don’t come with hunger pains and puffy eyes. Not to mention the nightmare of Anthony Lombardi. I was relieved I hadn’t killed him, but he was still out there somewhere and probably not too happy with me. I doubted last night was the last we’d hear from him.
“Thanks.” I gestured at the bed, and then coughed into my napkin. I’d just asked Nathan Whitman to sit on my bed. With me in it.
I tore into the bacon first and sighed with contentment when it crackled between my teeth. “You aren’t having any?”
“I already ate with your mom.” He sat on the bed, and the mattress bounced under his weight.
I stopped chewing. “What?” My brain’s engine seemed to click into motion.
“Your mom.” He grinned. “Sorry we ate without you. This morning, we found you passed out on the living room floor, and we took you to bed instead of waking you.”
I bolted up and jumped off the bed, leaving the breakfast tray on the comforter. “Mom’s awake? I’m going to the kitchen, come on.”
He waved at the stack of comic books leaning against my wall. “I think this is a private moment. I’ll just wait here and read Walking Dead.”
I smiled at him before rushing from the room. My heart pounded in time with my steps as I ran down the hall, past photos from Before, through the Chilean beads and into the kitchen. I stopped short when I saw Mom. Her back was to me as she scrubbed the kitchen counter. She wore her charcoal army jacket, jeans and her favorite pair of sneakers. Her hair was shiny, straight and long, falling past her shoulders.
“Mom?” I whispered.
She spun around, and I gasped. She smiled at me, the lines she’d gotten in the past year still present, but they no longer swallowed her face. Her eyes were alive; her teeth sparkling through her lips. I wasn’t sure I’d seen them for an entire year.
“Stop standing there, silly.” She opened her arms. “Come hug me.”
I ran forward, throwing my arms around her. She still felt small and weak, but there was a strength in her arms I remembered only from Before. I pulled b
ack and scanned every inch of her face, holding my breath for any sign she’d disappear.
“Stop looking at me like that.” She pulled away and swatted at me with a spatula. “Thanks to you, I’m fine now.” She frowned. “We’ll need to have a chat about all that though. Maybe when your friend isn’t hanging out in your room.” She raised her eyebrows. “He’s a cute one.”
“I can’t believe you’re okay.” I couldn’t take my eyes off her steady hand as she continued scrubbing the kitchen counter.
“Well, believe it. You should be glad, too. This place needs a serious cleaning job.” She pointed out the stains spotting the counter, and I winced. “And I saw the foreclosure notice.”
“I’m sorry, Mom.” My hands fell to my side. “I made a mess of everything.”
She twirled around, and those fierce eyes of hers were back. They bored into mine. “Don’t you apologize, Holly. I was absent for a year, and I had no idea it was ever that long. In my lost mind, it was only a few months. You took care of us. You saved my life.” She shook her head. “I’m the one who’s sorry.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“No, it wasn’t.” She dropped the wet cloth on the counter and crossed her arms. “And all that matters now is that we’re going to be okay. We’ll get back on our feet. I’ll teach you more about shamanism now. I think you’ve proven to me that you can handle it. And I’ll start taking on some cases again.” She smiled at me; dimples dotted her cheeks. “Things are going to go back to normal.”
“What about Anthony?” I asked. “He’s still out there.”
She tapped her fingers against the counter. “I’ll have to track him down. Otherwise, there’s nothing stopping him from coming after us.” At her words, I shuddered, and she held up the palm of her hand. “But don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of it.”
Just then, the kitchen lights clicked off and the humming dishwater slurred to a stop. Mom furrowed her eyebrows and looked up at the ceiling bulbs in confusion.
“What just happened?” she asked, rolling onto her tip-toes to peer at the dark lights.
I bit my lip, remembering how I’d paid the electric bill only a few days before. The problem was I’d never deposited any cash into her checking account to pay for the gas I’d bought with the debit card since then. I’d been too distracted by all the crazy shaman and spirit stuff, I hadn’t thought to put my case money in the bank.
“I think I may have emptied the checking account. I’m sorry. I’ll fix it. I have some more money.” I still had the four hundred from yesterday’s cases.
Mom shook her head and smiled at me. Not the reaction I’d expected. “Holly, honey, you don’t worry about money any more. At least not until you graduate high school. I’ll call the electric company right now and work this out. Then, we’ll go into town and get some ice cream. Chocolate chip sound good?”
“Sounds perfect.”
“Good. Now, why don’t you go make sure your friend is fine in the dark back there?”
“Okay.” I smiled back at her, relieved someone else was here to take care of things. Relieved Mom was standing here, strong and sure of herself, just like she used to. I backed out of the kitchen, almost afraid to take my eyes off her, almost afraid if I did, she wouldn’t be Mom anymore when I came back. But she shooed me away, and I moved my feet toward Nathan.
He lazed on my bed, angling the graphic novel toward the sunlight streaming in through the blinds. A chunk of hair was matted to the side of his head and his shirt was rumpled from yesterday’s long night of spell-inflicted sleep, but he’d never looked better than he did right now. He glanced up, catching me staring, and smiled.
“What’s with the power?” He snapped the book shut. “Did you want breakfast by candlelight or something?”
I grinned, pink staining my cheeks, and sat cross-legged next to him on the bed, half my brain focused on how his profile cast shadows on my headboard. “I might have had some power bill issues.”
“Hmm.” He sat up. “Speaking of issues, I’m sorry about last night. I felt really terrible that I couldn’t help you. I still feel terrible. The weirdest part is that I could hear everything that was happening. And I was useless. You could have gotten really hurt.”
“Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry I got you sucked into all of this. I was so scared when I saw you lying there on the floor like that.” My breath caught when Nathan inched closer to me; my words came out hushed. “I guess I’m not exactly a fun date.”
“Well, there you’re wrong.”
This morning had to be a dream.
Nathan tugged on a strand of my hair, and it felt as if he were tugging at my entire body, pulling me closer, like I could never get close enough. Waves of heat consumed me when he ran his fingers along my bare arms. I couldn’t help but notice how soft and gentle they were, and my body shuddered in response. He smiled, like he knew his touch had lit a fire in my chest, and brushed his thumb across my lower lip.
“Enough with all the sorrys.” His voice was husky, and in the back of my mind, I remembered my mom was only two rooms away. But I didn’t care. The desire wrenching my insides made me blind to everything else but Nathan’s smell, his breath, his touch, his hands, his eyes. He lowered his head, and his lips whispered across my neck. I moved against his touch, angling myself closer. My hands snaked around his neck and slid up into his soft, curly hair. I felt him tremble underneath my touch, and it only made me want him that much more.
His lips grazed along my skin, from my neck to my ear, and his voice was so deep and quiet, no one else in the world could hear. “I’ve wanted to kiss you ever since you sat up with that crazy bed-head.”
My laugh came out as a sigh. I couldn’t speak, too caught up in his every tiny movement, waiting to see what he would do next. His mouth made its way from my ear to my cheek, leaving a trail of heated glows on my skin that radiated to every part of my body.
Then, his lips were on mine, tasting of orange juice and of hope, and I lost myself in his kiss.
The End.
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Other titles by Cady Vance
Available Now
Bone Carved, A Prequel Short Story
Bone Cold, Book 2
The Madmen’s City
Never Sleep
Acknowledgments
A shout out to my parents for always encouraging me to read when I was a child. Without you, I’m not sure I would have become the voracious reader I am today. That love for the written word drove me to write my own books, and you’ve always told me to keep at it all these years.
Thanks to Josh, who this book is also dedicated to. You’ve shown me unfailing support and have made me numerous cups of coffee while I peck at the keyboard. I may not run marathons like you do, but I still feel like you’re cheering me on.
Thanks to my incredible writing buddies, Shana Silver and Chandler Baker. You guys keep me sane, and you have the best brainstorming ideas in the world.
A big thank you to Alyssa Henkin, whose editorial wisdom helped craft this book into something better than I ever could have done on my own.
Thanks to all the wonderful people of the Blorgy Bunch, Absolute Write and Kboards.
And finally, I must give a shout out to all of the incredibly talented people who inspired this book. I may not know you personally, but I thank you all the same: Joss Whedon, J.K. Rowling, Hayley Williams, Brandon Boyd. Your creations made me want to make my own.
About the author
Cady Vance is the author of YA and NA speculative fiction. After growing up in small-town Tennessee, she decided to embark on a grand adventure by packing up her bags and moving to NYC. Now, she studies for her PhD in the UK and dreams of seeing the u
niverse.
www.cadyvance.com
