Bone Cold: A Soul Shamans Novel (Volume 2) (24 page)

The Chilean beads gave me a distant hum as I passed through them to the living room. Constantine was perched on a kitchen chair by one of the windows overlooking the backyard. His spine was stiff and straight, and every muscle in his body taut with tension.

“You should try getting some sleep like your friend.”

“My mind is way too full of static to sleep.” I moved over the the couch and perched on the arm, eyes drawn to the rocking chair where Mom used to sit every day when she was too helpless to take care of herself. If I could get her back then, I could get her back now, and I could get Nathan back, too.

“We can revisit this in the morning.” Constantine dragged his eyes away from the window and gave me a strained smile. “But there’s nothing you can do right now. You should get some sleep, Holly.”

“We can try to find George,” I said, giving Astral’s fur a rub when he jumped into my lap. “She’s got to be out there somewhere.”

“And how do you propose we do that?” He shifted his eyes to the backyard again, rifle resting against the glass, as if he truly did expect George to appear at any moment.

“Don’t you guys have magical scanner things?”

“We have scanners that pick up the presence of spirits, but nothing we have can tell us the whereabouts of a murderous teenage girl.” When he said the words, I noticed his eyelids fluttered fast and his voice went tight, as if he were desperately trying to hide his emotions from me.

I pressed up from the couch and moved to Constantine’s side. “Were you close to any of the guys who died today?”

His jaw clenched, moments passing in silence. “We all trained together. They were like brothers to me in a way. Or at least the only brothers I’ve ever had.”

“I’m so sorry.” I gave him an awkward pat on the back. His muscles rippled under my touch, warm and strong. “I can’t even imagine how that would feel.”

“We all knew the risk.” He turned to me, his eyes dark pools of something strong and fierce. He reached out a hand to my face before letting it fall heavily to his side. “I’m just glad you and Laura are okay.”

“I honestly can’t believe George would do something like that,” I said, twisting away and moving back to the couch, heart fluttering in my throat. Something about the way Constantine had looked at me just now unnerved me to the bone. “Even though I knew she was behind the attacks, outright blasting a group of people to death just seems so…”

“Evil,” he said. “That’s the word you’re looking for.”

“Anthony Lombardi is exactly the kind of person that would do something evil.”

Constantine raised his eyebrows and shifted away from the window to stand before me. Everything in the way he moved screamed powerful and strong, and it was hard not to stare as his anger amplified that impression. “You’re talking about the dead guy again.”

“If he’s really dead.”

“And how do you propose we confirm his live-or-dead status?” He dropped into Mom’s recliner, and Astral jumped into his lap. With a slight smile, he ruffled my cat’s fur, but he still managed to look serious doing it.

“Well.” I cleared my throat. “The only way to be sure would be to see his body.”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right about that. Unfortunately for us, he’s six feet under.”

“About that.” Constantine raised his eyebrows when I climbed off the couch and grabbed a couple of things from the hall closet, knocking dirt all over the living room carpet in the process. “We’ve got two shovels. Luckily, the police have ordered everyone home for the evening. No one will be out and about to see us.”

Constantine’s mouth quirked. “You’re suggesting we dig up a man’s coffin to see if his body is inside.”

“Do you have any better ideas?” I passed a shovel to him, and to my surprise, he took it from my hands. “If Anthony Lombardi is alive and well, I think we need to know.”

“Your father has given me an order to stay inside this house and keep you two safe for the night,” he said.

“And you never go against orders,” I said with an eye-roll.

Constantine clenched his jaw, rubbing calloused fingers against a purring Astral’s chin, before he stood from the chair. He clinked the shovel against the one I held and shot me a rare smile. “Come on. Before I change my mind.”

***

Something hooted in the distance as Constantine and I trekked up the hill toward Anthony’s headstone. I still couldn’t believe he’d agreed to go along with my slightly insane plan, but now that we were out here, the adrenaline pumped through my body, and I couldn’t help the crazed grin from gripping my face.

Every time I heard a noise, I jumped. And that included hearing my own footfall against the ground. When we reached the headstone, Constantine gave me another rare smile and tossed me a shovel. I guessed something about digging graves cheered this guy right up.

Quickly, we got to work. We each took a side, digging our shovels into the ground. The soil was still soft from the recent burial, though my arms groaned with every push into the dirt. Cold air whistled through the trees, making my body tremble, even though a sweat had broken out on my forehead. I had no idea what time it was, but it had to be well after midnight, and we were still very far from being done.

When I was five, if someone had asked me what kind of person I’d be during my junior year of high school, grave robber certainly wouldn’t have been my first guess.

After approximately four thousand strokes, my shovel was finally met with resistance, clunking hard against something that sounded thin and hollow.

“Constantine,” I whispered. “I think I’ve hit the coffin.”

With a nod, he jumped into the six-foot hole we’d dug into the ground and dropped to his knees. He brushed aside the dirt to reveal a wooden coffin. For some reason, I’d half-expected the grave to be entirely empty. Why bother burying a coffin with no one inside it?

Constantine struggled to shift to one side and pry open the coffin’s lid. I shone my flashlight into the hole as he jumped back to reveal the contents. It was entirely empty, save for the satin clinging to the wood and a folded piece of notepaper. My named was scrawled across the top.

Even though I’d suspected Anthony’s death to be a lie, it still made every hair on my body stand on end. Anthony Lombardi
was
alive, and he’d left me a note in his grave.

CHAPTER 22

“A
re you going to read the note or are you going to burn a hole through it with your eyes?” Constantine watched me pace back and forth across the living room floor, staring down the paper I’d tossed onto the coffee table. As much as I wanted to know the contents of that letter, the fact that Anthony wanted me to read it made me want to do anything but. I’d played right into his hands again, and that fact more than anything made me want to throttle something. Preferably Anthony’s neck.

“You don’t understand.” My breath felt stuck in my throat. “It’s not that simple.”

“If you don’t read it, I will.” He snatched the note from the coffee table and waved it in the air. “If a dangerous shaman is leaving you notes in his grave, it’s not something you can ignore. He’s alive, and he’s probably the one behind all of these attacks with George Proctor.”

“Of course he’s the one behind all of these attacks.” I let out a bitter laugh. “It was stupid of me not to realize it before now.”

“We need to know what this note says.” Constantine shifted in front of me to force my pacing to stop. I glowered up at him, my eyes shooting flames at the paper he held in his hands. I should have been surprised that Anthony would bury a fake coffin and wait for me to dig it up, but I wasn’t.

“I’m not so sure we do.” I frowned at the crisp paper. “You never met this guy. He likes to play chess games with people’s lives. If he left that note for me to read, then he
wants
me to read it. And it’s never a good idea to do what Anthony Lombardi wants. He’ll have some sort of endgame in mind. A chain reaction that starts with me reading that note.”

“You’re putting too much fear in a name.” Constantine unfolded the paper before I could stop him, his eyes skipping down the page. I sucked in a gulf of air and waited for his reaction. My pulse throbbed against my skull, and my hands went slick. This couldn’t be good, whatever it was. When Constantine was done reading, he tossed the paper onto the coffee table and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Well?” I asked.

“You didn’t tell me you killed him,” Constantine said.

Ice ran through my veins. Was this Anthony’s whole plan? Set me up for his murder?

“That’s not exactly the full story.” Skin crawling, I finally forced myself to pick up the paper, and my eyes began skimming the words.

Even though you killed me, death isn’t the end of my story as you can see from my empty grave. Maybe one day I’ll repay the favor with Nathan’s life if you don’t stay out of my way.

I dropped the note as if were engulfed in flames. It was a thinly-veiled threat, directed right at me. We were interfering in whatever master plan he’d come up with this time, and he’d figured out a surefire way to keep me out of it. Kidnap Nathan and hold his life as a ransom for me to leave him alone. At least that meant Nathan was still alive.

“I’m all ears.” Constantine spread his arms. “Explain.”

I sighed and plopped onto the couch, pulling my knees up to my chest. Anthony Lombardi was alive, and he held captive one of the only people in this world that I loved. The image of that cruel smile and those flashing eyes filled my mind until there was nothing else. I hadn’t been able to get him out of my head since the moment he’d disappeared in September. It had haunted me all this time, and now I realized why. I’d known without a doubt he’d be back. Shivering, I met Constantine’s dark gaze.

“When he came after my Mom in September, I found him here in the house,” I began. “He had a knife, and he threatened to kill Laura’s dad and Nathan. I’m pretty sure he had every intention of doing it. Somehow, I managed to get ahold of the knife, and when I did, a spirit, I don’t know, somehow managed to get Anthony to move forward just a little bit. He fell onto the blade.”

Constantine let out a low whistle. “Was this one of the spirits he had bound to his blood?”

“Yeah, that spirit wasn’t too happy about it. That’s why it helped me.” I pulled my knees tighter to my chest as I my mind replayed the scenes from that blood-splattered night. “Anthony ended up dying from the wound just long enough for all those spirits to be set free. He ended up surviving, and all this time, we thought he was somewhere licking his wounds and getting stronger. That’s why my mom left to track him down. I have a feeling he’s the one who sent in the fake tip on his location. I just hope she’s okay.”

“So, you thought he was alive until you saw the grave.” Constantine frowned out the window. “I have a feeling he put that there specifically for you to find.”

“It sounds like he’s a little pissed off.” A tear slid down my cheek. “And my mom isn’t answering her phone anymore. He’s probably sent her straight into a trap.”

“She’s with a team of powerful shamans,” Constantine said. “I’m sure they can hold their own. Right now we need to focus on Anthony’s purpose here. His note now tells us why George chose to take Nathan hostage.”

“How exciting.” My mouth went dry. “At least we know he’s alive.”

Constantine stood and stretched his legs, pacing back and forth where I’d worn down the carpet from the many times I’d made the very same path across the floor. His face was etched from worry and stress, making him look ten years older than he actually was. I probably looked the same.

“You said the spirit helped you,” Constantine said. “I didn’t think they did that kind of thing.”

“Well, this one was different, I guess.” I thought back to Anannan, his strange way of stringing words together in both a melodic and formal way. “He was bound to Anthony, and he hated being forced to feed only when he was allowed. He said it made them kind of feral.”

Constantine paused and met my gaze. “Feral?”

“Yeah.” My eyes followed Constantine as he rubbed his hand down his face and resumed his steady pacing. “Why, what are you thinking?”

“Don’t these spirits seem feral to you?” Constantine asked. “All of these attacks have been since Lombardi died. We’ve never encountered resistant ones until now.”

“I’m already way past you on that one,” I said, shaking my head. “Trust me. I know what this means. I accidentally let loose these special spirits when I killed Anthony and broke the binding spell between them.”

“Even then,” Constantine said, “there are still some very direct attacks happening. These aren’t free spirits roaming around attacking humans whenever they please. They’re coming in waves, only in Seaport, and some of them seem very targeted. Jason, Nathan, Wanda. All people to connected to this in very tangible ways. These can’t be coincidences. And don’t forget what happened at the cemetery when you touched the headstone.”

“Again.” I pointed to myself. “My fault.”

“Stop making this about yourself, and get your head out of your ass.”

I blinked at the sudden bark that came from his throat. He stared at me, and I stared at him. My hands fisted by my sides, and I stood blinking back the tears that I knew I couldn’t let him see. A flush spread across his cheeks as he glanced away from me. I wanted to take his face in my hands, force him to look in my eyes, and make him take back what he’d said, but instead, I shifted away to glare out at the dark sky.