Page 45 of Brave Spirit (Bound Spirit #6)

Callie

W hile Mildred drives us home from the memorial service, the sky reflects the tone for the day, painting itself in various shades of dark gray as the heavy drum of rain beats down on her black Mercedes.

My scalp aches from an arsenal of bobby pins holding my unruly hair in a respectable French twist, and the balls of my feet sting from the amount of standing I did while wearing a borrowed pair of my nan’s black pumps.

It feels callous to indulge my discomfort when so many are dead because of me.

“Darling, you’ve been very introspective for the past week,” my nan comments as she stops at a red light.

“Not that it isn’t warranted, but it might help to talk about what you’re thinking and feeling.

If you’re not ready, I understand, but I want you to know that I’m here for you. You don’t have to process this alone.”

Stuffing my hand into my skirt pocket, I run my thumb along the crude lynx engraving on the back of the Lyncas arcane focus. “That whole night is my fault. All those people died because of me, because I didn’t figure it out sooner, and when I had the choice to stay or go, I abandoned them.”

“That seems like a particularly harsh oversimplification of what happened, and an impressive abundance of aggrandizing how much control you have over the agency of others,” she muses, carefully accelerating when the light turns green.

“Nan, I have used magic multiple times to stop groups of people from being able to move to the point where I had to modify the spell so they’d keep breathing.

” I squeeze the stone in my hand as I look out the passenger window.

My reflection looks back with judgment. “That spell alone could have made a difference, but I didn’t do anything to help them.

I just left because I cared more about my hatred for my father than innocent lives. ”

She sighs while turning onto the main road toward home. “Callie, my sweet granddaughter, you are far too intelligent to believe that.”

Her matter-of-fact tone is surprising, and I can’t help but stare at her profile. “That sounded more like an insult than a compliment.”

“It’s currently an observation.” She drums her fingers on the steering wheel as she appears to collect her thoughts.

“I can appreciate how responsible you feel for others because of your magic. It’s understandable, considering what the future holds for you, and I’m sorry for my part in adding to that daunting future.

” She glances at me, sympathy and apology in her expression.

“However, you’re not expected to be prepared for that future now, nor should you hold yourself to that standard.

My darling, you are only eighteen. You’re still growing into who you will become.

” She reaches over to grasp my free hand, giving it a comforting squeeze.

“That night, you were given a difficult choice which was influenced by trauma. Choosing to face your father to save Felix was a brave thing to do.”

“But I didn’t save…” I start to correct, only to be shushed into silence.

“You’ve had your turn to beat yourself up,” she states, giving my hand a little shake.

“Now, you’re going to listen. The events of that night are not your fault.

That responsibility lies exclusively on your father’s shoulders, may he rot in hell, and you didn’t abandon the people at the dance.

You knew four of your very capable boyfriends were in there fighting to protect the people inside, and as soon as you had the opportunity, you called me for help.

I just wished you’d told me the whole truth before you hung up. ”

“Sorry,” I respond quietly, gazing down at our joined hands.

She slows down as we approach our long driveway.

“Darling, that wasn’t a request for an apology.

I don’t blame you for the choices you made.

” She takes her hand back just long enough so she can turn the steering wheel before taking my hand once more.

“Regardless of your perception of that night, punishing yourself for what you perceive as past mistakes won’t serve you.

It’s over now. You can’t go back and change it.

All we can do from this point on is move forward with the wisdom hindsight provides. ”

Her words heal some of my fresh, jagged pieces, and I wipe the building tears from my eyes with my sleeve. When we come to a stop outside our house, I pull the Lyncas arcane focus from my pocket and place the blue stone on her palm. “It isn’t quite over yet. We have one last goodbye.”

My nan closes her fist around the stone, and the simple chain hangs between her fingers. “What do you mean? Why do you have the Lyncas arcane focus? Did Carlotta give it to you before she left?”

I shake my head as I grab our umbrellas from behind my seat.

“My father had it. It’s how he protected himself against my magic—not that it did him any good.

I remembered what you taught me about how those kinds of necklaces only protect the person from direct spells being cast on them.

Turns out, the floor beneath him was still very susceptible to fire, even one started with magic. ”

“Death is too good for that detestable monster,” she seethes, the anger in her eyes only heightened by her empathy for all I went through that night.

“I agree,” I reply, handing her one of the umbrellas. I’m not ready to tell her that there’s nothing left of him to torture in hell.

As we step out of the car, the rain only grows stronger as it pounds on the thin canvas over our heads. We’re both quiet for the short walk into the house, but after we pass the threshold and put our umbrellas away, she holds out her hand with the stone nestled in her palm.

Apprehension tugs at the corners of her eyes as she looks at the stone that is nearly a replica of the one around my neck.

“This arcane focus shouldn’t have been able to repel your spells.

For it to be able to, it must contain the life force of several witches—not that I would put it past the bastard, but he was completely cut off from witch kind when he was excommunicated. ”

After removing the painful heels, I busy myself by making a pot of tea using my nan’s tea set. “As far as I can tell, there’s only one soul inside. The rest came from me.”

“From you? How?” She crosses into the kitchen and gently stops me in the middle of putting the tea tray together. “What did he do?”

I look down at the beautiful porcelain set, unable to meet her eyes. “Let’s just say I have a better understanding of why you’re so protective of my blood, and the bastard practically had barrels of it after everything he did to me.”

She wraps her arms around me and holds me in a fierce embrace. “Oh, my darling, I’m so sorry. There are no words strong enough to adequately portray the injustice you suffered because of that monster, nor is there a punishment severe enough to even begin to match his crimes.”

Breathing in her familiar rose perfume, I fill myself with all the good that’s happened to me since I came to Twin Cedar Pass and use it as a salve on the open wound my father’s return created.

After several seconds of quietly being held, I pull back and wipe the tear tracks from my cheeks.

“Well, my father left us one twisted silver lining with his death.”

“His death is more than a silver lining,” my nan comments with that controlled anger that frightens the guys.

“True, but that wasn’t what I meant.” I finish prepping the tray and carry the tea pot and its matching set of items to the kitchen table. “Let me show you.”

When we both sit down, I take her hand and cover it with mine, the Lyncas stone nestled between our palms. Her eyebrows knit together when I join our other hands, but she doesn’t voice her questions, recognizing a fellow witch’s need for focus.

I close my eyes and center myself as I breathe.

Using my nan as an anchor, I reach for the magic inside the stone, tentatively searching for the familiar, raw magic that constitutes a soul.

When I find my mother, her spirit is far more nebulous than a typical ghost, floating within the captured magic of the stone.

As if I’m trying to catch a leaf drifting on a tranquil pond, I mentally scoop her up and guide her through me, similar to how I transferred Felix into James’s body, only with less consciousness lost. Strengthening her with the magic that flows within me, I open my eyes and breathe out the word, “Release.”

Standing as the final piece of our trinity is the woman who has shaped so much of my life despite me only knowing her visage through photographs. She appears lost and confused, which is fair enough for having been trapped in a necklace for fifteen years.

“Lina?” Mildred’s voice cracks as tears immediately begin dripping down her cheeks. “My baby, is that you?”

“Hi, Mum,” she replies with a soft, sympathetic smile. “It’s really me.” She looks around the room and then down at her hands, her pale skin having the typical golden glow of a ghost. “It appears that events have not gone in my favor.”

A wet laugh falls from my nan’s lips. “You always had a talent for understatements.”

“We use the gifts the goddess grants us,” she jokes awkwardly, pulling her wavy blonde hair over one shoulder. “What happened? How did I get here?”

“Uh, short version,” I answer, releasing Mildred’s hands so I can fold mine in my lap. “Using my blood, your… husband trapped your spirit in the Lyncas arcane focus, and I was finally able to let you out.”

“Thank you for freeing me.” My mother’s confusion only seems to have grown with the new information, and she stares at me the way acquaintances do when they are trying to put a name to your face. “Do I know you?”

Surprise overtakes the heavy emotions that shape Mildred’s expression. “Lina, this is Callie, your daughter. She’s a spirit witch like you.”

Her eyes light up, even as her mouth twists into a wobbly smile.

“Callie? My little flower, you’re so big.

I mean, so grown up. The last time I saw you, you were…

” Horror washes across her features as she places a hand over her mouth.

“Oh, no. No, you were there that night. He didn’t hurt you, did he? ”

My nan places the Lyncas focus on the table and stands up in an attempt to comfort her by her nearness. “Lina, my dear, what are you talking about? Who? What night?”

“The night this happened!” She swiftly motions up and down her body.

“Hinrik was holding Callie, explaining how it’s a light nephilim’s responsibility to help spirits, when Adelmo came home and lost his mind.

He accused me of having an affair, and then he said if he couldn’t have me, no one could. I don’t remember much after that.”

“So it was the bastard who did it?” Mildred’s lips press into a thin line as everything she knew about my mother’s death upends with a couple of sentences.

“The night you died, you were found in a hotel room alone with Hinrik. Both your deaths were ruled as some type of love pact suicide because you couldn’t be together. I knew it was a lie, but…”

“Love pact? Me and Henrik?” My mother looks at her like that’s the most absurd thing she’s ever heard.

“He was happily married. The whole reason he was helping me is because his wife was so charmed by Callie.” Her gaze shifts to me with an expression of nostalgic pride.

“Even as a toddler, you were so smart and kind. Witches aren’t supposed to come into their power until puberty, but you were using magic to get extra snacks out of the cupboard because the ghost you met at the park looked hungry.

It broke my heart every time I had to tell you to stop, but it was too dangerous because… ”

“Because if the council found out I was a spirit witch, they’d take me away,” I finish for her as I rise from my seat.

Placing a hand over her shoulder, I call on my magic and focus it on giving her a corporeal form like I did with Felix the night of Yule.

When the spell is complete, I gently take her hand in mine.

“None of it was your fault. You were doing your best to protect me. The fault lies with the council and all of their secrets. If we weren’t forced to hide who we are, then none of this would have happened.

” I reach out to Mildred, so I’m holding my mother’s hand with my left and my nan’s hand with my right.

“We are three generations of Volkov witches who should have had a lifetime together. It’s not fair… ”

My voice breaks, and tears begin to stream down my cheeks.

As I weep, my mother releases my hand to embrace me.

My nan follows, wrapping her arms around both of us.

They whisper words of comfort and love, but mostly, they hold me and mourn the life that could have been ours.

It’s a long time before we separate, and the rain outside is no more than a light sprinkle.

“You’re right. It isn’t fair,” my mother murmurs as she places a kiss on my forehead, and I do my best to etch the feeling into my memory.

“I wish I could give you a lifetime, but whatever time I have left like this is yours.” Her lips spread into a loving smile.

“Now, tell me everything about you. I have quite a few years to catch up on.”

The tea grows cold, and the day gives way to night as we spend these final hours together building memories of love and laughter.

Tonight isn’t about what we’ve lost, but the stories and joy that bind three generations beyond death’s grasp.

We don’t talk about my father or the cruelty of his actions.

Instead, I tell my mother about the guys and Mei, and we giggle over cute stories of young love.

A lot of their stories are filled with important lessons that I should learn, but I will never repeat their experiences to another soul.

Mildred extols all the amazing accomplishments I’ve achieved, and not just with my magic.

My mother beams with pride over every story and never lets go of my hand.

In the early morning hours, as the spell begins to wane and Mildred hugs my mother while whispering all of her final goodbyes, I decide I can’t hide in Twin Cedar Pass any longer.

I can’t allow another family to suffer like ours simply because they had the audacity to be born spirit witches.

The council has spent too long trying to bury their history and how easily their control can unravel.

I’m going to take on the goddess’s mission—not because she asked me to, but because it’s time for a reckoning.

The past has returned from the dead, and we won’t be silenced any longer.