Free Spirit: Book Two of The Bound Spirit Series

by H. A. Wills

  “Don’t be daft,” she replies, along with the rustling sound of fabric and Callie’s tired sighs. “She always has magic. It’s just no longer in her to bursting. It’ll take time for her to find balance.” A moment later she adds. “You can look now.”

  Turning back, I find Callie dressed in a matching pair of flannel pajama bottoms to go with the thermal top and still leaning against the counter. She’s staring listlessly at the comb in her hand, like she wants to comb her hair but doesn’t have the energy to do it.

  “I have it from here,” I say, taking the comb from her hand and placing it on the counter, near a pair of grey sweats and another clean towel.

  “Excuse me?” Mildred exclaims, crossing her arms over her chest.

  I grab either side of Callie’s waist and lift her up so she can sit on the counter. She slumps back until her head is resting against the mirror, but she seems more content now that she doesn’t have to hold herself upright.

  “I need to get dressed,” I remind her, grabbing the spare towel so I can start drying myself off. There’s so much water on the floor from the two of us dripping everywhere, it’s practically a walking hazard. “I’d rather limit my audience.”

  The evidence of how much she wishes to argue is obvious in the pinch of her lips and the narrowing of her eyes, but she replies, “Yes, well, do hurry.”

  “I will,” I promise as she closes the bathroom door behind her.

  Feeling drained myself, I brace my hands on either side of her legs and release a deep breath while my head hangs toward my chest. Callie leans forward and gently strokes the back of my neck sending chills down my spine. There’s something sweet about the fact she can’t find the energy to comb her hair, but she’ll find it to soothe a tired friend. This is why she could never be a monster. No matter what’s she seen or experienced, her first instinct is kindness.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispers, guilt heavy in her weary voice. “I can’t… be alone.”

  “Never be sorry about asking for help,” I reply, standing back up, knowing what she means is far more than someone being present. It’s needing someone to ride whatever this is with her. Whatever the crooked path her past and present is dragging her through.

  “Thank you,” she murmurs, leaning back against the glass, then sighs as her eyes fall closed. “Talk to me. So I know you’re there.”

  “What about?” I ask, quickly taking advantage of her closed eyes to remove my sopping boxer briefs. Even though she can’t see me, there’s something awkward about undressing in front of her-- propriety rearing its obnoxious head.

  “Doesn’t matter,” she mumbles, her hands hanging open at her sides.

  “Very helpful,” I tease, drying myself off and grabbing the clean sweats.

  “That’s me,” she sighs with a humored twist of her lips.

  I nearly collapse with relief with the small sign. There she is. Columba mea. I know she isn’t better, but I’m no longer afraid she’ll fall catatonic.

  After slipping the sweats on, the waist hanging low on my hips and the legs bunching around my ankles marking these as not mine, I announce, “You can open your eyes.”

  “Too much work,” Callie mutters, blindly reaching out.

  I laugh, taking her hands and placing them on my shoulders. “Then you’re really going to dislike this. I need you to sit up so I can comb your hair.”

  She flicks her tongue out at me then releases a deep breath. “I can… should… do it.”

  “Let me take care of you,” I request in a low voice, wrapping an arm around her back and helping her sit up. “Tomorrow we can go back to what should be done.”

  A single tear drips down her cheek and she nods. “Thank you.”

  Not knowing what else to say, I plant a soft kiss on her forehead then gently start combing her hair. It’s thick, the colors shifting from rich gold to honey wheat, and sticks to my hands as I separate portions to comb. While going through her hair, I find another laceration, this one near her temple but invisible within her dense locks. It’s not bleeding but also not healing, and I’m surprised it’s not bothering Callie more. Maybe it’s the exhaustion.

  As I work, her eyes stay on my face, though they’re no more than silver slits, almost like she’s making sure I won’t disappear when I’m finished.

  “Ready for sleep?” I ask when the comb runs smooth through her hair, smirking because despite her best efforts, she’s starting to nod off sitting on the counter.

  “Mmm,” she hums as her form of yes.

  “Hold on tight,” I instruct, wrapping her arms and legs around me, then lift her up off the counter. She sighs contently, dropping her head to my shoulder.

  When I open the door, Mildred is waiting on the other side with an expression of ‘I thought I said be quick’ on her face, but she merely runs her hand over Callie’s hair and wishes us both goodnight. Hard to yell at me when I have Callie half asleep in my arms.

  I stagger down the hall, my own exhaustion kicking in, and when I reach Callie’s room, I don’t turn the light on, knowing the general direction of her bed. I’m so tired, I don’t bother to put her down. Just flip the blankets back and lie down with her on my chest.

  Callie doesn’t seem to mind, snuggling against me with her face pressed to my neck, and her arms and legs tucked on either side of me.

  “When the nightmares start,” she murmurs against my skin. “Talk to me. Doesn’t matter what. Just need to hear your voice.”

  Running a single hand up and down her back, I suggest, “How about I read to you?”

  “My book is in my backpack downstairs,” she grumbles like she’s trying to gather the energy to move.

  “Not necessary,” I reply, holding her close to keep her still. This night is the longest I’ve held her in my arms, and something I’ll likely deny to myself in the morning, but I don’t want to lose a single moment of it. “I have near perfect memory, remember.”

  “Oh… right,” she sighs, her breath warm and her lips soft. “You wouldn’t happen to want to read to me now? Is it still reading when you’re reciting?”

  “Shhh,” I chuckle, reaching for one of her hands and entwining her fingers with mine. “How about Pride and Prejudice and Zombies? Elizabeth and her sisters are infamously talented zombie hunters.”

  “Nice,” she breathily laughs. “Alright, tell me the tale of Elizabeth kicking zombie butt and the man that fell in love with her.”

  And that’s what I do. Drifting in and out through the night at the barest shift in her breathing or whimper of distress, I recite a few more pages of how Mr. Darcy, entranced by her skills as much as her looks, falls in love with a woman as capable as he and how he can’t live without her.

  Epilogue

  Felix

  It’s an hour until dawn, and Callie shifts in her sleep, making a quiet hum of distress. Kaleb drowsily runs his hand over her upper back and mumbles something until she settles. Connor huffs and kind of nuzzles her lower back, fast asleep on top of them in his wolf form.

  He showed up about two hours ago with two wolves in tow that are now sleeping on the front porch. It seems counterintuitive to what Kaleb mentioned earlier about not wanting the pack near Callie and Mildred, but I guess, two wolves is better than the whole lot of them camped out on their doorstep.

  Donovan and Nolan are passed out on the floor, D’s wing still splinted. Nolan is curled next to him almost completely covered by the uninjured wing except for his feet poking out the bottom.

  Sitting on Callie’s desk with my hands braced on either side of me, I swing my feet back and forth, my heels going through the drawers instead of bouncing off them. I sigh and look back to the bedroom door, except about an hour ago it stopped being a door that led to the hallway. Now it’s all shiny with golden light and is open to what I guess is paradise. I thought there’d be more clouds. Instead, it’s all tropical beaches with white sand, thick and colorful plant life, and a winding path like something out of The Wizard of O
z. Maybe the living on clouds thing comes after meeting HR and deciding if it’s all pearly gates or fire and pitchforks.

  It makes sense my door is here, I suppose, since the demons that killed me and my family were seriously murderized and sent back to hell. Mystery solved. Justice served. Except, I still feel like I have unfinished business here. My friends’ lives have all been turned upside down. Nolan’s still cursed and now Gina’s turned everything up to eleven. Demons are coming for Donovan. Connor’s dad died making him the Alpha now. And Kaleb is turning into a completely different person. I can’t abandon them now.

  Then there’s Callie. She’s just starting to unpack all the crazy shit that’s happened to her and is still happening. She’s still learning how to laugh. She’s… the only girl I’ve truly loved. And… I can feel her. Not just in her dreams, but right now. I don’t know how or when, but she’s become a new anchor. A feeling of comfort and warmth that draws me, and with a single thought, I’m at her side. Then there was the weird cold tingling feeling when my arm went through her. That has to mean something right?

  I hop off the desk and march across the room, standing about five feet from the door. My gaze swaps from the golden paradise to my friends asleep and back.

  “Who says no to paradise?” I mutter, gripping and tugging on my hair, which doesn’t do much for stress when I can’t feel any of it.

  Flopping my hands to my sides, I start pacing, doing odd patterns so I don’t walk through anyone… or too close to the door.

  “Okay. I’m a logical guy. Just do a pro and con list,” I sigh after a few laps. “Whichever has the most points wins.”

  I turn my back to the door, not wanting its shiny goldness to lure me close.

  “So, pros… pros… Well, the obvious one is seeing my family again,” I whisper to myself, counting on my fingers. “Two, getting to interact with stuff and not fall through them. Three, not invisible anymore. Er… four, eventually being reborn? That’d be cool, right?”

  My eyes sweep through the room, resting for a moment on each of my friends. “Con, when/if I’m reborn, I wouldn’t have my memories. Yeah, same soul, but is it really me if all that makes me me is gone? And what does it matter if other dead people can see me, if the people that really know me can’t? It’s not like I’m really great at making new friends… except for Callie. But she’s different.” I assert to… no one. “And what if my parents are already reborn? Then they won’t know or care if I’ve made it to the afterlife”

  Or they’re there waiting for me and refusing to be reborn until I get there.

  I glare at the door, grumbling, “You just had to show up. I was doing fine, you know. Okay, I was making it work, but now… now I have to make a decision! I hate making decisions. I’d kick you if I didn’t think I’d fall through. Just so you know.”

  And I’m threatening a celestial door.

  “Alright, so those are the pros and cons of going through the door. Yay paradise and family. Boo for making new friends and eventually forgetting everything that makes me me.” I stand there, tapping my foot and staring at the door for way too long, before throwing my hands up in the air. “That wasn’t helpful at all!”

  I freeze when Connor makes a low growling noise and then another huff, but he seems to still be asleep. Maybe he’s dreaming of chasing squirrels or something.

  Scrubbing at my face, I murmur much quieter, “Let’s try a pro con list for staying. Maybe that’ll help.”

  Lying down on the floor because pacing around the room didn’t seem to do anything, I converse with the ceiling, “Pros for staying. My friends are here, and they’d miss me if I was gone. The girl I’m in love with is here…” Crap! I probably shouldn’t have said that out loud. I peek up at her and she still looks sound asleep. Phew. “Unexplained magic stuff with the whole new anchor and tingling. Would be cool to figure out what that’s all about. Hell, magic in general is pretty cool and being a ghost means I don’t have to worry about the exploding stuff.”

  Resting my hands on my chest, I start tapping out a random pattern with my fingers. “Cons. I’m dead. Being dead kind of sucks. No touching things. Feeling things. Pretty much only two out of the five senses working, so I can’t really do much without help. I haunt my friends while they go on with their lives and eventually become a burden because, see earlier reason-- unable to do anything without help. But maybe I can move on then? So staying is more of a delay not an either or.”

  I sit up and look over at the door. “Will you come back if I don’t go now? Like, can I have a gap year for the afterlife?”

  The door, of course, doesn’t answer, because even though it’s magical, it’s still a door.

  “You know it’s weird that you don’t have a receptionist or a concierge here,” I criticize leaning back on my elbows. “I have questions. I can’t be the only spirit that has questions before moving on.”

  The door doesn’t answer, but Kaleb mumbles in his sleep.

  “Okay, good point. That’s probably what my light nephilim caseworker is for,” I ramble. “You win this round, door.”

  I know it’s just a door, but I swear it gets shinier with smugness.

  “So pros and cons of staying,” I list for the door. “Yay not leaving my friends, which let’s face it, need me to keep them all sane, and I keep all my thoughts and memories. Oh, and learn more about cool magic stuff. Boo being dead, potentially being a burden on said friends, and maybe stuck as a ghost for eternity.”

  Door is indifferent, though very pretty with all the golden light and whatnot.

  “You’re completely unhelpful,” I accuse.

  Releasing an unnecessary deep breath, I get back to my feet and slowly approach the door. It doesn’t suck me in or go all crazy love spell on me or anything. I’m still just as conflicted a foot from it as I was five feet from it.

  “You know, I thought my door would look cooler,” I say, grabbing onto the very normal doorknob. “Like all golden, maybe a gate, possibly some ethereal music playing.”

  I twist the knob and the catch slides in and out, then look over my shoulder at all my friends. The pros and cons lists were worthless, because I know what I want to do. It’s why I’ve been staring at the dumb door.

  “I can’t leave them,” I murmur, feeling at peace now that I’ve said it out loud. “Sorry, mom and dad. I miss you a lot, but… this is where I need to be.”

  I close the door. The light goes out. And my hand slips through the doorknob.

  “Guess, it heard me after all.”

  Free Spirit Glossary

  Agitare lyncas - Lynx (Latin)

  Ciudad de mierda - Shitty city (Spanish)

  Columba mea - My dove (Latin)

  Donovan: This fucking means “my pigeon”.

  Kaleb: It means both, because a dove is a type of pigeon! You know that.

  Donovan: Whatever. You’re still calling Callie a pigeon.

  Cunne - Cunt (Latin)

  Deodamnatus - Damn it.

  Faex - Shit (Latin)

  Fatum Imperium vestrum suis - Control your own destiny (Latin)

  Feliz cumpleaños - Happy birthday (Spanish)

  Filius canis - Son of a bitch. (Latin)

  Futue te ipsi, es mundus excrementi. Potes meos suaviari clunes. - Fuck you, you pile of shit. You can kiss my ass. (Latin)

  Lame botas - Ass kisser (Spanish)

  Mi lobo - My wolf (Spanish)

  No hay mal que dure cien años ni cuerpo que lo resista. Todo estará bien, mijo. - There is no evil that lasts a hundred years or body that resists. Everything will be okay, son. (Spanish-- colloquialism similar in meaning to “This too shall pass”/ “Nothing lasts forever.”)

  No me dejes - Don’t leave me (Spanish)

  Omnem diem contere velut ultima - Live each day as if it’s the last (Latin)

  Pendejo - Dumbass/ Asshole (Spanish)

  Reina - Queen (Spanish)

  Stercorem pro cerebro habent - They have shit for brains (Latin) />
  Free Spirit Playlist

  List of songs referenced throughout the book.

  Elements • Lindsey Stirling

  I’m Not Jesus • Apocalyptica ft. Corey Taylor

  Down With The Sickness • Disturbed

  Demons • Imagine Dragons

  War Rages On • Alex Clare

  System • Korn

  I Lived • One Republic

  Supermassive Black Hole • Muse

  Iris • Goo Goo Dolls

  Kiss Me • Ed Sheeran

  Fire Up The Night • New Medicine

  Touchin On My • 3OH!3

  I’m A Flirt [remix] • R. Kelly ft. T.I. & T-Pain

  Save Spirit

  Coming Summer 2019.

  Join H.A Wills’ author group, The Bound Spirit Coven, for early sneak peaks of the next book.

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  Acknowledgments

  The whole experience of writing Free Spirit has been a whirlwind and one hell of a learning curve. When I wrote Bound Spirit, I tried to set my expectations for what I thought was realistic. I was a new author with nothing published to my name (unless you count a poem I wrote in the 8th grade-- which I don’t) and so I just hoped a few someones would take the risk on my work and like it enough to spread the word. I never dared dream that Bound Spirit would take off so well and that it would touch so many lives. I can’t express how truly blessed I feel, and none of it would be possible without the help of so many amazing people in my life.