Free Spirit: Book Two of The Bound Spirit Series Read online

  “I don’t know about you, but I’m in need of food,” I announce the obvious with a teasing smile. “Time to brave the English breakfast.”

  He nods and we make our way toward the front door.

  “I’m not eating the broiled tomatoes,” he announces, his grumpy face still in full force. “I don’t even like fresh tomatoes. If they’re not in a sauce, they’re not worth eating.”

  I’m indifferent to tomatoes, but when he’s like this, I can’t help but tease him.

  “How can you not like tomatoes?” I gasp theatrically. “Not even the cute little garden tomatoes you put in salads?”

  His grimace turns into a devilish smirk, and pulling his hand from his pocket, he gestures down his body. “What part of this says that I eat a lot of salads?”

  The image of him this morning, shirtless and underneath me, runs through my brain, and I can already feel heat once again burning across my cheeks.

  “Right,” I snort with an eye roll, hoping he doesn’t notice my blush. “How could I forget? You’re practically a carnivore.”

  “Hey, I eat fruits and vegetables,” he replies with subtle indignation. “I just also need a lot of protein.”

  Oh really, I think as a sly smile crawls across my lips.

  When we reach the porch, I carefully take each step, no longer worried about hiding my struggle with stairs. In my most innocent voice, I proclaim, “Since you need all that protein. Then you can have the baked beans with breakfast.”

  Donovan groans while he follows me up the stairs. He’s surprisingly light on his feet, the wood barely making a sound as he climbs.

  “Fine, I’ll eat the damn beans,” he relents, “but you have to eat both our servings of tomatoes.”

  “Deal,” I announce, spinning around and holding out my hand to seal the deal. Tomatoes with breakfast I can handle. Baked beans are just weird.

  His skin is hot against my cold hands when we shake, and I’m starting to wonder if I should invest in some gloves. Then again, with all these boys around, I can use them to keep me warm.

  ∞∞∞

  I’m bombarded by the smells of fried breakfast foods when we enter through the front door, and my stomach makes another rumbled demand for food. The house is gloriously warmer than outside, and I can’t help the deep sigh of pleasure that escapes my lips.

  Donovan, right behind me, leans over and grumbles close to my ear, “Do I have to eat the fried bread?”

  For a dude that I’ve seen level an entire large pizza all by himself, he’s being hilariously picky about his breakfast.

  Giggling, I answer, “Of course we do. It’s too weird not to try at least once.”

  He makes a kind of grunting groan sound as he stands back up, which makes me giggle more. I don’t know why he’s given me this power over his breakfast, but I’m enjoying it immensely.

  Feeling better about the day, I quickly kick off the Uggs I’m wearing and put away my sweater.

  Donovan follows suit, taking off his leather jacket and hanging it next to my hoodie. His black T-shirt looks painted on, the well-developed muscles hard to miss underneath, and my giggling dies off. I’m so screwed this summer. Note to self: invest in very large, very dark or mirrored sunglasses.

  Before coming to Twin Cedar Pass, I paid little attention to the appearances of my fellow students. I may have noticed the attractiveness of my peers, but it was always in a detached, observational sort of way, like looking at a painting that vaguely held my interest. So not the case anymore. I’m not sure if I’m appreciating this part of the thawing process that’s leading toward me becoming a normal-ish teenage girl.

  Kaleb and Connor are already sitting at the table with plates filled to the brim with three different kinds of breakfast meat, eggs, fried potatoes, and the previously warned about baked beans, broiled tomatoes, and fried bread.

  Nolan winks at me as he walks over to sit at the table, his plate not quite as full as the other boys and missing the baked beans. Maybe his appetite is offset by his liquid diet?

  My aunt looks over her shoulder from her position in front of the stove, and a warm smile spreads across her face. Even dressed in her pajamas, she has an air of effortless elegance. Her blonde hair is piled on top of her head, loose strands framing her face, she’s devoid of any makeup but still radiates a healthy glow, and she’s dressed in her silk robe and matching silk, lavender pajama set.

  “Good morning,” she greets then motions toward the plates and bowls of food along the counter. “Come now and make yourself up a plate. How do you both like your eggs?”

  “Medium,” I answer at the same time Donovan says, “Over easy.”

  “Coming right up,” she replies, cracking more eggs into the frying pan. Good naturedly, she adds, “If this is going to be a more normal occurrence, remind me to make larger grocery trips.”

  Felix comments while he’s investigating the food on the counter, “My mom made regular trips to Costco. Really saves money to buy in bulk. We even had an extra fridge and freezer in the garage.” Then he mutters under his breath, “I like baked beans, but something about having them with breakfast is just weird.”

  I chuckle. “Aunt Mildred, Felix recommends making trips to Costco. He says it’s how his mom was able to keep all the guys fed without going broke.”

  She turns and kind of politely smiles at the empty space behind her, and I subtly point in Felix’s direction. Though not quite at him, her gaze is closer.

  “Thank you, Felix, for the suggestion. I’ll be sure to try that,” she says into the open air.

  He startles, apparently not used to talking to people that can’t see him. He glances over at me, “Tell her, ‘No problem?’”

  “He says, ‘You’re welcome’,” I tell my aunt.

  Felix crosses his arms and gives me a playful glare. “Is this how it’s going to be? I say one thing, and all of you tell her I said something different?”

  “I gave her the gist,” I answer making my way toward the food, Donovan following behind.

  Felix rolls his eyes and works his way out of the kitchen, so as to not be stepped through. He changed from earlier, and now is wearing a fitted black t-shirt that has a cartoon of a guy in a red and black superhero suit holding comics with the phrase ‘I have issues’ written across the bottom. He’s the slimmest out of the guys, but his muscles are still visibly toned. Each time he rubs his neck, I see peeks of his firm belly. Even the one that doesn’t have the excuse of supernatural genetics is hot. How is that fair?

  After making up our plates, I notice a slight problem. There are four chairs and five people-- six if I include my aunt, but she seems content to lean against the counter drinking her tea and nibbling on some toast.

  Nolan notices my dilemma and smirks, sliding back his chair. “Come here, Callie love. You can share my seat.”

  Mildred flashes me an amused look, and I internally groan. I sense another ‘we’re just friends’ conversation in my future. His new nickname for me is probably not helping.

  Donovan takes the remaining empty seat, and Nolan pats his lap in invitation to sit down.

  When I sit, setting my plate next to his, I mutter, “Eat carefully, Casanova. Wearing breakfast is not a fashion statement I want to make.”

  “I have better table manners than that,” he assures, then shifts us so we’re sitting at more of an angle, me sitting sideways across his lap. Now, we’re both closer to our respective plates. Nolan eating with his left hand while I eat with my right.

  For a while there’s silence as we all wolf down breakfast, everything quite tasty and extremely filling. I’m only about halfway through my plate, but the guys are already finished, when Mildred announces, “Later today, I have an appointment with Neva Reyes, the head of the local coven, and Callie, I was curious if you wished to join me.”

  All of the boys trade silent looks, and Nolan drops his hands, one around my waist and the other squeezes my knee in warning.

  “Why?” I
stutter out.

  She looks at me curiously. “I’ll need their help removing the binding spell. That’s why we came here. This coven doesn’t directly report to the council, which means the news of you being freed won’t get back to them.” There’s a wry tug to her lips. “I’m powerful, but not that powerful. The immense amount of magic that was needed to bind you will require the help of most of the local coven to remove it.”

  “Good luck with that,” Donovan mutters under his breath.

  Kaleb cuts Donovan a chiding look before turning his focus to my aunt. “What I believe he meant to imply is that the local coven isn’t really known for their generosity. I also have my concerns. Will they be able to sense what Callie is? Can they be trusted with that kind of information?”

  “Don’t trust the coven,” Nolan demands, venom infusing his sultry voice. “Even if they agree to help you, don’t trust them. They only care about one thing, themselves, and they’ll sell you out faster than you can blink if it benefits them.”

  Putting my fork down, I place my hand over the one he has around my waist. Sliding my fingers between his, I attempt to offer some comfort, feeling heart sore over what has been done to him.

  Nolan glances up at me with a ghost of a smile and rubs my thumb with his.

  Both Felix and Connor are silent, though Connor has a clear look of distaste in regards to the coven. It’s astounding they all agreed to be my friend after they found out I was a witch.

  Mildred blinks with surprise over the guys strong opinions regarding the coven. “Yes, well, I’ll be sure to remain cautious, but remember, Callie and I are witches. And not any witches, but ones with a lot of power and prestige backing us. Even if we’re not part of their coven, we are still witches.”

  I can practically hear Nolan grinding his teeth, and I really wish she hadn’t lumped us in with the local coven. This is a time where I’m really okay with being considered an outsider.

  She sips her tea and turns her focus to Kaleb. “Like I told you before, the knowledge of spirit witches has been carefully pruned from our histories. There’s no reason for the coven to think of Callie as anything more than a powerful witch, something completely expected considering her bloodlines.”

  All this talk of prestige and powerful bloodlines is starting to make me feel like a racehorse that someone is trying to sell off and hoping the buyer doesn’t notice I’m lame in one leg. I sigh and lean more into Nolan’s shoulder. Absently, he readjusts me so I sit more comfortably in his lap.

  My aunt watches me for a moment surrounded by my friends, then does a subtle nod, like she’s come to a decision. Calmly, she states, “All right. The best method of removing Callie’s binding spell is with the help of the coven, but I’ll do my best to keep her from them as much as possible until it’s time for the ritual. I’ll impress upon them that it’s in their best interest to help me remove the spell, as a cracked binding spell can be very volatile, even more so considering how powerful Callie’s magics are.”

  “Volatile sounds bad,” Felix says from his place near the large bay window. “‘Very’ and ‘even more so’ sounds really bad.”

  There’s a stillness among the guys with his comment that leads to a sinking dread in my stomach. My heartbeat flutters like a caged bird, and I begin to pull on my left sleeve, my right hand trapped in Nolan’s.

  The words tight in my throat, I ask, “When you say volatile, what do you mean?”

  The tension that tugs at Mildred’s eyes doesn’t bode well. “Darling, I don’t want you to worry, because we’ll remove the spell before any real harm can be done.”

  “You mean like turning a small backyard fire into a huge bonfire that set a whole bunch of blankets and clothes on fire? Thinking that might have caused some harm,” I retort, the air getting thinner.

  She presses her lips tight together, before softly answering, “No, I mean before the amount of magic that’s continuing to collect inside of you breaks the spell on its own, and the backlash of that much power takes out half the town.”

  All of us are dazed under the weight of her words. The wake of silence an oppressive ring in my ears.

  Connor rises from his chair, the feet a loud scrape against the hardwood floors. I watch as he retrieves a clean mug, pours a cup of coffee, then adds cream and sugar, which is odd since he takes it black. Then he walks back to the table, careful not to spill, and places the mug in front of me.

  A droll smirk takes over my face. “You’re right. Today is definitely a third cup of coffee kind of day.”

  Chapter 2

  Callie

  “I’m the magical equivalent of an atom bomb,” I mutter, while I plop down onto the hardwood floors.

  “A very small atom bomb,” Felix adds unhelpfully, sitting down next to me. “She said half the town, not all of it-- so there’s that. If it gets bad, maybe we can take a very long camping trip deep into the woods. Then it’s just a crap ton of trees.”

  “And woodland creatures,” I grumble.

  Felix cringes. “Bambi has it coming?”

  I give him a pointed, not amused look, and he lifts his hands up in surrender.

  After breakfast, my aunt went off to her meeting, while the rest of us headed over to Nolan’s. Now, Felix and I are waiting in the extremely nice dojo/gym portion of the house, while the others get changed. Apparently, this room was once a ballroom, but his parents refurbished it because they wanted the guys to have a safe space to train. Nolan wasn’t kidding about his parents adopting his friends. They seriously go all out.

  The room is divided by heavy wooden pillars, one side having various workout equipment and the other empty except for a large, thick grey mat secured to the floor. On the far wall, there are floor to ceiling bay windows looking out onto the peaceful stream that meanders through the backyard. Near the mat, there’s a wall of mirrors, I’m guessing to be able to check for technique, and littering the rest of the walls is a barrage of weaponry. I’m kind of intimidated just sitting here.

  We don’t wait long for the rest of the guys. I suddenly feel overdressed in my sweatpants, t-shirt and loose pullover, because apparently, shirts are optional while training, and they’ve all opted out. It’s like the time Donovan showed me his wings, only times a thousand.

  Kaleb and Donovan are massive with thick, sculpted muscles that would make bodybuilders weep and are wearing loose drawstring pants. Connor and Nolan, dressed in workout shorts that come to just above the knee, are leaner in comparison, but not any less strong or well defined. I’m experiencing a kind of deer in headlights feeling, and I’m worried my ability of cognitive thought might be leaking out of my ears. I thought earlier this morning was bad. I’m going to need those sunglasses much, much sooner-- and find an excuse to wear them indoors.

  Don’t blush! I remind myself as they walk across the room, my heart fluttering in my chest. And blink-- but not too much! And don’t drool! There are a lot of components to looking like a normal, unaffected person.

  Donovan is in the middle of a stretch, one arm bent behind his head and the other pulling on his elbow, when they all reach Felix and me on the floor. I make a conscious effort to keep my eyes on his face, and not on the rippling muscles on display over his ribs. I’m pretty sure I’m smiling, or have something resembling a smile on my face, but I can’t be positive since my face feels a little numb. My hands grip the loose fabric of my sweats to keep myself from checking.

  He switches arms and says, “Hey, so while I do my sparring sessions with Kaleb and Connor, Nolan can help you warm up with stretches and some light cardio. I figured we’ll focus on teaching you a combination of Muay Thai and Brazilian Jiu-jitsu. Both martial arts styles work well for people your size and can be effective against larger opponents.”

  “You mean pocket-sized people that weigh nothing?” I joke, proud that I can make complete sentences.

  “Yeah-- expect a lot of weight training in your future,” he chuckles, dropping his arms and giving me an assessing
look. “Your high pain threshold is going to be a plus. To get really good with Muay Thai, it’s going to hurt-- a lot, but work through the pain, and your whole body becomes a deadly weapon.”

  “This should be fun,” I snort. “But hey, silver linings to everything.”

  Kaleb, Nolan, and Felix look taken aback by Donovan’s casual reference to the painful abuse I’ve experienced, but strangely, it makes me feel better. He listened when I told him not to treat me differently, and he’s finding ways to use what I’ve gone through to make me stronger.

  Felix stands up, and Connor reaches down to help me to my feet. Connor’s expression is difficult to read, and I fear he also has a high pain threshold learned out of necessity. He has no scars, but I wonder if that has less to do with lack of abuse or more to do with being a wolf shifter. Does he heal like I do?

  Kaleb folds his arms across his chest, his biceps bulging with the gesture, and he has a look of strained patience. “Shouldn’t you be focusing on teaching her how to get away from attackers?”

  Donovan mirrors the gesture, adding a raised brow and an asshole smirk. “When she masters what I plan to teach her, she’ll have no problem getting away, because the fucker will either be on the ground in too much pain to follow her or they’ll have already run off scared.”

  A wicked smile pulls at Connor’s lips. He’s clearly all for me beating the shit out of anyone that tries to hurt me. Can’t say the thought doesn’t appeal to me too.

  “Have you considered Callie’s healing abilities?” Kaleb counters, his annoyance beginning to take over his features. “Muay Thai relies on the bones of her shins thickening and the slow deadening of the nerves through constant conditioning. Callie heals quickly through injury, so it’s unlikely the conditioning will have the same effect.”

  “Her bones will grow stronger faster, because she has accelerated healing. Same with her muscles. It’s the healing over the damage that will make them stronger,” Donovan challenges, the rest of us watching the discussion like spectators of a tennis match.