Bone Dry: A Soul Shamans Novel (Volume 1) (17 page)

“I think there’s a symbol carved into the sidewalk.” I looked up and down the street. Red traffic light to my right. No cars to my left. Sidewalks empty. No one in sight other than the two coffee-lovers still sitting with their noses in their paperbacks.

I trotted across the street with my eyes trained on the windows. If I saw even a flicker of movement behind those blinds, I’d be out of there faster than The Flash. My sneakers squeaked as I squatted next to the symbol. It was a circle with two different sized dots inside. I didn’t recognize it at all, and it wasn’t from my own book of runes.

“Dammit, Mom,” I said under my breath. There were other books with more runes. Ones she hadn’t let me see yet, ones she kept hidden. I didn’t like not knowing what this symbol meant, but it only confirmed my suspicion that the man who worked or lived here was a shaman.

I felt like I’d found solid gold instead of a circle on the pavement. And if it wasn’t for the fading red stain splattered inside it, I might not truly believe it was a rune. I brushed my fingertips along the edge of the carving. How had he gotten the rune into the cement?

My fingertips felt as though they’d touched a white-hot curling iron. I snatched them away. A sharp, tingling sensation traveled the length of my arm. Hot, stinging. My body started to shake. Tears sprung into my eyes, and I wrung my hand at my side, shaking it hard like the stinging could be thrown off. The pain spread like wildfire over my body.

I heard a door slam, Nathan yelling, the pounding of feet, but I couldn’t see a thing except for the red in my eyes. Everything was tainted. Dark, burning. I think I was crying, pleading for someone to make it stop. I wasn’t proud of how easily I’d broken, but I was consumed by the pain.

I was the pain. The pain was me.

And then it stopped.

Someone shoved me into a chair while my eyes adjusted. Three guys were standing in front of me, arms crossed. One stood out from behind the others. He was tall, lean, muscular. The picture on his website had shown a man in a snazzy, cheesy suit. Bright white jacket with a pink polka-dotted shirt that only emphasized the impression of a sleezy crackpot.

That’s not who stood before me now. Sure, he was the same guy, but he looked radically different. Faded jeans, Converse sneakers and a trendy faded gray t-shirt with a cool graphic etched on front. He looked younger than he had on the website and really young for someone who owned his own business. I would have guessed he was twenty.

He pushed off the desk where he’d been leaning and strode past the two guys who looked like bouncers at a dance club. Instinctively, I leaned back in my chair even though he didn’t look upset or angry or insane at all. Just curious. He tilted his head to one side and looked me up and down.

“Holly, right?” He smiled. “I’d recognize that face anywhere. You look just like your mother.”

CHAPTER 17

I
didn’t know what I had expected him to say, but that was definitely not it. And I wasn’t even sure how I reacted. All I could do was repeat the words he’d said over and over in my head.
You look just like your mother. You look just like your mother. You look just like your mother.

But I knew I must have had some sort of strong reaction because he knelt down in front of me, his eyebrows furrowed and the corners of his eyes slightly creased. “I’m sorry. I realize our welcoming committee isn’t exactly…friendly. I have precautions in place. We were caught off guard by having another shaman here. Not everyone who finds me is quite as…” His voice trailed off. “Let’s just say not all shamans are on the up-and-up.”

I tried to control my breathing, to make my words come out right, but when I spoke, I sounded like a squawking parrot. “You know my mom?”

He stood and took the chair one of the bouncer guys had brought him. He settled in and crossed one leg over the other. “No, I used to. Haven’t heard from her in well over a year. Where are you two living these days?”

Rule #3: If you ever meet a shaman, never tell him where our home is. Not the town, not the state, not the color of the paint. Nothing.

“I’ve actually come to ask you about a couple of things. I thought you might be able to answer some of my questions…about shamans.”

“Go on,” he said, leaning forward.

“First, where’s Nathan?”

Anthony waved his hand in dismissal. “Oh, the human boy. He’s waiting for you outside.”

I let myself relax just the tiniest bit with that knowledge. “Okay, do you know a guy named Mark Sampson?” I asked. “He and another shaman live in Berrytown.”

I wondered if that was saying too much, but I needed help with those shamans.

“Can’t say that I do,” he said, even though his eyes flashed. “Why?”

I didn’t know how much to tell him. If I told him what had been happening, it would be giving away our location. This guy didn’t seem particularly angelic, but he didn’t seem like a demon either. There were no guns, no knives, no threats. Yeah, there’d been that stinging rune thing, but it might be to protect him from shamans like Mark Sampson. The real demons.

“You don’t have to be afraid of telling me.” He rested his elbows on his knees. His chin fell into his hands, and his eyes pierced my insides. I knew right then he was powerful. It was like I could see magic dancing in his pupils. I had to fight my body to keep from shuddering. “I know what happened to your mom. I’m sure recovering from that accident has been hard.”

I sat up straight and sucked in a lungful of air. He knew. I stared at him, not blinking my eyes. Could he have been involved? Why was he talking about recovering?

“She hasn’t recovered,” I said, voice flat. “That’s part of why I’m here.”

He shook his head. “Yeah, I was worried that was the case.” He clicked his mouth in some sort of tsking noise. “No one has heard from her. And she’d been getting really paranoid right up until the time of the accident.”

I narrowed my eyes. I didn’t like him talking about my mom that way. Like she’d done something wrong.

His mouth turned up into a half smile. “She stopped trusting everyone, and I’m not surprised she hasn’t gotten in touch with anyone to fix it. I think she was getting into something a little more than she could handle.”

“I’m going to fix it.”

His eyebrows shot up. “And that’s why you’re here?”

“One of the reasons, yes,” I said. “I can get her back. All I need to know is who did this to her.”

His mouth set into a thin line. “I’m not going to stick my nose into it. Whoever did that to her is dangerous, and I want nothing to do with it. You’ll have to find another shaman to help you. A few of her other old friends might be willing to put their sanity on the line.”

“You don’t have to help. I just want someone to give me the name,” I said. “If my mom didn’t trust any other shamans then she had a good reason for it.”

A full-on grin spread across his face. “Your resemblance to your mother doesn’t stop at those eyes of yours.”

Ugh. I didn’t say anything to that. I wanted to show him I was serious. He hadn’t said he didn’t know who the shaman was. He knew something, and somehow, I was going to make him tell me.

He glanced away and sighed before turning back to look me dead in the eyes. “I don’t know who did this to her, but I can tell you how to find out. I’ve got to warn you, though, if it’s been a year and she’s still sick, then I don’t think she has much longer.”

I jerked back as if I’d been slapped. Red dots stormed my vision.
I don’t think she has much longer
. I wanted to cover my ears and block out his words, but all he was saying was something I already knew and just wanted to ignore. Mom was dying.

“Please,” I said, trying not to sound like I was pleading, but not really caring either way.

“You’re not going to like it. Have you ever had any experience summoning spirits, Holly?” He leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “I know your mother hated that particular brand of magic.”

I felt my stomach drop out of my feet. “No, she didn’t teach me.”

“Well, you’re going to get your first taste of it.” He stood from his chair and moved behind his desk. It was then I finally noticed this was an actual office, and with the door propped open, I could see a waiting room just outside. He opened a drawer, rustled around some papers and brought out a small purple bag.

“This,” he said, “is all you need. The rune, the name and the blood are all inside.”

He brought me the bag and dropped it into my lap.

“I don’t understand what you mean,” I said, fingering the silky material.

“A spirit was there,” Dr. Lombardi said. “I know because she told me the name of the spirit she was going to banish on that trip. Summon that spirit, and you can ask who attacked your mother.”

Something inside my stomach was doing flips, prancing around and sinking teeth and claws into my guts so that I felt like I wanted to double over in pain. “I can’t…summon a spirit and talk to it.”

A kind smile lit his face. “Yes, you can. The hard part is what comes next. That spirit won’t give you anything unless you pay him.”

“Pay it?” I squeaked, silently cursing myself for how weak I knew I sounded and looked.

“Yeah, you’ll have to summon him in a human’s place of rest to let him feed.”

I knew my eyes must have been as wide as my mom’s vinyl records. He couldn’t be serious. “There’s no way I can do that.”

He shrugged. “Then, I’m sorry I can’t help you.”

“I don’t understand though,” I said. “Why do I have to summon the spirit to feed? I thought they could go around feeding wherever they wanted.”

“Of course not,” he snapped. “Some wild ones do, but I trapped this one earlier this year. He can’t feed unless I let him.” He leaned forward. “I’m giving you an enormous responsibility by letting you have his packet of summoning. Only allow him to feed in payment.”

I sat there, staring at him, letting the full weight of his words knock me down. I whispered, “I have to let it feed on someone to fix my mom?”

“Now you see why I don’t want to get involved.”

I clutched the material in my fist. “I can’t. People die from that.”
But Mom will die if I don’t
.

He blinked. “Die? That’s a little dramatic. It would take months for someone to die from spirit exposure, and you won’t be leaving the spirit there for that long. In a day, a spirit will eat a year or two tops of someone’s life. Just give him his payment, and then banish him. Then, bring the bag to me. I understand how you feel. I don’t want to do it either, but if you can hold yourself together, it should be over quicker than you think. And the human will be fine.”

“Why are you calling people humans? It’s not like they’re some sub-species we can sic spirits on!” The two bouncer guys shifted closer to me at the sound of my raised voice. I glanced up, huffed and leaned back into my chair. I jutted out my chin and crossed my arms, not caring how much I looked like a kid having a hissy fit. This wasn’t right.

“Because we aren’t humans, Holly. We’re something else. Our blood is different. Haven’t you ever wondered about that?”

“I am human,” I said. “Not everyone has the same skin color, the same eye color, the same hair. Just because my blood is different doesn’t make me any less human.” I stared him down. “And because I’m human, I know it’s not okay to summon a spirit into someone’s house to munch on them while they’re sleeping.”

“I’m not telling you to do it. I’m just telling you what needs to happen if you want to find out who attacked your mom.” He held out his hand, palm up, just like I always did when I was conning someone. “If you don’t want to do it, by all means, hand me back the summoning packet. I don’t want this spirit out any more than you do.”

And just like how it always worked on whoever I was conning, it worked on me, although I trusted him a little bit less than I had before. I didn’t know if it was paranoia or instinct, but I couldn’t bring myself to believe everything he said. It didn’t stop me from holding the packet closer or from making me feel like I was losing a little bit of the humanity I’d claimed to have. “No, I’ll take it.”

He nodded. “Okay, now it’s important you don’t use only your blood. Also use the blood in the summoning packet.”

“That makes no sense,” I said.

“I told you I trapped the spirit,” he said. “He can’t be summoned unless my blood is used.”

“Your blood is in here?” I held up the bag. Somehow that made it even more disturbing. I didn’t want to be carrying around this guy’s blood. “And I have to mix mine with yours?”

“Yeah, there should be enough in there for you to summon him to ask the questions and then again for his payment. And then just enough to banish him after that.” He nodded as if this were some business transaction, serious and professional. “Now what is this about a shaman named Mark Sampson?”

I hesitated, and then decided to tell him as little as possible while still giving him enough information to do something. “I heard through the rumor mill that this shaman guy was summoning spirits into people’s houses. And I heard one of those people died because of it.”

The warmth fell from Anthony’s eyes. “And you said he’s in Berrytown?”