Shadow Bound (Wraith) by Angel Lawson Read Free Book Online Page B

way down.”
    I laughed. “Be nice. I love that crappy car. It suits him.”
    “It does, a little broken down and damaged, but still sexy and rugged.” She giggled at her own description. She was right. That was the perfect way to describe him and his car.
    “Talk to him. He’s worth it,” she said, her tone serious.
    “I will. Promise.”
    &
    My aunt operated in her own time and mind. Some call it flakey, others artistic. I had no idea what I would call it except it’s just how she’s always been. Now that I knew about her gifts, the ability to read auras and palms, I thought she just spent part of her time in another level of consciousness. Which is why I wasn’t surprised when she called and started in on a conversation as though we’d never stopped talking.
    “I’m working on a new painting.”
    These were the first words I heard when I answered the phone. “Tell me about it.”
    “It’s a girl with fantastic, bold wings instead of arms.”
    Jeannie’s words were as much a collage as her paintings. I could almost see her moving her arms around in a flapping motion. “Like an angel?” I asked, trying to imagine white wings protruding from the girls back.
    “No, not like an angel. They aren’t on her back. They are where her arms are. Red, like fire. Like your aura.”
    “Like the devil bird?”
    “Energy and life.”
    “Okay.”
    “She’s transporting spirits between this world and the next. Carrying them like a baby.”
    The imagery was freaking me out. “With her wings?”
    “Stop being so literal.”
    “Sorry.” Obviously, I didn’t have my aunt’s gift of artistry.
    “Never mind. How are you?”
    This thing, this ability, was hard to talk about. The idea alone made me uncomfortable. “Send me a picture, I’d love to see it. And I’m okay.”
    “Just okay?”
    “Working, Connor, ghosts, drama. Teenage life.” I sat on a stool by the kitchen window. I could see the tire swing in Ms. Frances’ yard.
    “You’re not telling me something.”
    “Psychic now?”
    “No, just a good aunt,” she laughed. “What’s going on?”
    “Just the ghosts. I hate it. I had to tell this woman she was dead but her baby survived. That was the worst.”
    “Sounds horrible.”
    “Actually, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about. When this ghost was here, something weird happened. She touched me.”
    Jeannie didn’t reply immediately, but after a beat she said, “Physically?”
    “Yeah, she touched my arm. I guess Evan wasn’t so special after all.”
    “Don’t say that,” she scolded. “Could you touch her back?”
    “Nope. Have you ever heard of anything like this?”
    “No.” The tire swing started to sway, like a wind was pushing it around. I glanced up at the trees in the backyard. The branches were still.
    “Connor is afraid I could get hurt.”
    “As he should be.”
    “You’re worried?”
    “Not exactly, but be careful. I’m coming to town in a couple weeks to check on Mom. I’ll research what I can before then. Maybe we can talk to her if she’s feeling up to it.”
    “You think I should go with you and talk to your mom?”
    “What better place than the source, right?”
    “I guess so.” I’d never spent time with my great aunt. She’d always been a mystery – even more so now that I know her history. I liked the idea of talking to her. “Let’s do that. Go see her.”
    “Good, now listen to this idea for the painting I’m working on,” she said and rambled on about collage and vintage paper while I watched the empty swing sway one yard over.

I twisted the cool glass knob on Connor’s bedroom door. Antique like everything else in this historic home. As usual, the smell of his room hit me first. Or stench? Whichever. The harsh scent of chemicals from the paint he used on the wide stretch of wall, set up like a mock canvas, overpowered the dirty clothes and smelly shoes. He kept the window open and a fan on all the time. In my opinion, he flirted