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

heads.
    “Nathan!” I screamed, reaching out my other hand. The wind roared, drowning out my words. Face stinging from the sudden onslaught of ice, I stumbled forward. I couldn’t see anything but the white. “Nathan!”
    “Holly, stop!” Laura grabbed my hand and pulled me close. A chorus of high-pitched howls ripped through the air, and under it all, the roaring sound of pain. My throat went tight. Nathan. The spirits were going after Nathan.
    Dropping Laura’s hand, I tore through the storm in the direction of Nathan’s screams. My boots knocked into something heavy and hard, and I dropped to my knees to find Nathan curled up on the ground, violent shakes engulfing his body.
    “No,” I whispered, leaning over him as if I could shield him from the attack. My hands fluttered across his body, the bitter tang of nausea clawing up my throat. “No, no, no, no.”
    We stayed huddled in the snow for what seemed like hours. Nathan kept shaking under my trembling hands until the wind died down, until the ice and snow drifted to a stop, until his moans disappeared into silence.
    Laura dropped to my side and placed a hand on mine. I twisted to look into her eyes, my own full of frozen tears. She gave me a sad smile and glanced down at Nathan. “He’s alive, Holly. He’s going to be okay.”
    “For now.” Every beat of my heart brought on a new burst of pain. “There’s no telling how much life they stole from him today. It had to be a lot.”
    Nathan still shook under my hands, and I leaned down to press my palms against his neck, feeling the pulse of his heartbeat under my fingertips. It was steady and strong. A part of me felt a surge of welcome relief while another part still raged inside my head. I knew I should have never let him get involved in my shaman life, even just to check out a grave. Now, he’d been attacked, and once again, it was all because of me.
    Heavy footsteps pounded the ground. Twisting, I looked up into my father’s weathered face. He frowned down at where we sat huddled in the snow, his gun slung over his shoulder and a half a dozen soldiers—or whatever they were—spread across the hillside behind him.
    “Holly.” He let out a heavy sigh. “I was really hoping I wouldn’t see you here.”
    My heart stung, even though I knew he didn’t mean it the way it sounded. Or did he? Not a single part of me was surprised that he’d appeared in the cemetery tonight. Maybe this is what Wanda foresaw all along. The spirits would swarm, they’d attack Nathan, and my father would reappear to save the day. Except, this time, he was too late.
    “If you’re here for the spirits, pretty sure they’ve been gone awhile.”
    His eyes drifted to Nathan’s prone form. “Did they attack your friend?”
    “Yes.” My voice caught. “He’s still alive though.”
    “I assume your mother has taught you some healing spells.” Dad motioned to the men behind him, and they all turned as if they were one and strode back down the hillside, the ice crunching underneath their heavy boots. “Take him home, give him the proper herbs, and let him get some rest.”
    “Dad.” I stood from Nathan’s side, crossed my arms over my chest, and lifted my chin. “What are you doing here? What the hell is going on?”
    “I told you last night, Holly. I’m here to stop these abnormal spirits from hurting anyone.”
    “How did you know they’d be in the cemetery tonight?” I asked, determined to get more answers than he was trying to give.
    “We have some special equipment that gives us readings on spirit activity. The cemetery had a lot of blips on the screen, but it appears it didn’t alert us quickly enough in this particular situation.” He glanced from me to where Laura and Nathan shivered on the ground. “You kids be sure to stay home tonight. Seaport won’t be a safe place.”
    “What’s that supposed to mean?” Laura stood and moved to my side.
    “The readings are showing…” He cocked his head