Free Bone Cold: A Soul Shamans Novel (Volume 2) by Cady Vance Page A

Nathan chuckled. “No wonder you’re on a wild goose chase through a cemetery in the middle of a snow storm. Wanda’s not exactly reliable, is she?”
    “Well.” I crouched by a long row of crumbling graves and brushed the snow off the first stone. “Turns out she might not be such a hack after all.”
    “I swear, I go one night without talking to you, and everything turns crazy.” Nathan dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms around me, but it did nothing to ward off the chill that had crept into my bones. “Do you want to talk about your dad?”
    Heart lifting, I looked up into Nathan’s mossy green eyes. His nose brushed again mine, and my body began to melt. Lowering his lips to my ear, he murmured, “I’ve really missed you. I can’t wait until this show prep is over.”
    “Guys.” Laura’s voice held a warning. “I think I’ve found what we’re looking for, and I don’t think you’re going to like it very much.”
    Pulling away, I glanced over my shoulder to see Laura shining her phone on a headstone at the very top of the hill, her body backlit by the dark sky. Part of me didn’t want to know what she’d found while the other part of me had to know the answer, no matter how terrible it was. Nathan placed a strong hand on my back to lend support as I traced our footsteps to Laura.
    The headstone she’d found rose six feet in the air. The top was curved and shiny, different than the old graves around it that were chipped and faded with age. This one looked new, though it didn’t match Mr. Cutter’s standard carvings down the hill. Laura had knocked the snow away to reveal the words hidden underneath.
    Here rests Anthony Lombardi. May he live on.
    “How?” I gasped, taking a step back. “He can’t be dead. The spirit said he was alive.”
    There were no years carved into the stone. Only those eight words.
    “Well, turns out he’s dead.” Laura leaned down to brush the snow away from the mound of dirt stretching out from the headstone. “This looks fresh. I wonder who decided to bury him here.”
    “I have got to call my mom” Ripping off my glove, I stabbed the emergency contact number for Mom into my phone. “Whoever gave her the tip about his location was wrong.”
    “I hate to say this, but maybe it was a trap.” Nathan frowned at the grave.
    Fire ants skittered along my skin as I let his words sink in. If Anthony was dead, that meant someone had lied to my mother about the tip on his location. It had to be a trap. Gritting my teeth, I listened as her phone rang and rang and rang. She never picked up. Blood roaring in my ears, I tried again. Tears sprung into my eyes as I listened to the steady whirring of the unanswered call. What if I was too late?
    “She’s not answering.” I clicked off my phone but didn’t put it away. I’d have to keep trying until I got through. “I should have known it was a trap. Even in death, Anthony Lombardi will end up getting my mom killed.”
    “Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Laura said. “She’s with a team of other shamans. I’m sure she’s fine.”
    “Last time a shaman attacked her, she ended up almost dead.” My feet carried me closer to the grave. When had this happened and how? My chest ached. No matter how vicious this guy had been, I didn’t want to be the reason he was dead. But I’d stabbed him in the chest, and now here he was, six feet under.
    Reaching out, I brushed my hand against the headstone in a silent apology for what I’d done. Something sharp stung my fingers, and my breath got caught in my lungs. The wind whipped around us, picking up speed and turning to ice. I cried out and yanked my hand away, stumbling back from the grave.
    Laura found my hand and pulled me away from the headstone. Its surface had turned white from the sudden chill. Frost clung to the sides. Cracks formed around the letters, splitting the rock. The storm warred against our bodies, the sky dumping ice pellets onto our