Kindred Spirit: Book Five of the Bound Spirit Series

Chapter 1

Nolan

One month later…

The evening grows cold as the sun slips below the tops of the trees surrounding the property. I should go inside, but I can’t seem to make myself leave the small balcony that juts out from the second story of my suite. Instead, I sigh and lean my forearms against the metal railing, watching the sunset. There’s nothing particularly special about it, just another day slipping away into night. I have so few of them left, but it’s hard for me to care. Wariness settles around my shoulders, dragging me down without resistance from me. Every time I close my eyes, part of me wishes they would never open again.

It’s only in these quiet moments where I’m allowed to indulge in my current circumstances. At all other times, I wear a brave face. It’s a hollow promise that everything will be okay, that I believe I’ll be cured. The truth is, I’m feeding from one of the most magically powerful beings on the planet, but her blood that used to fuel me for over a month only staves off my hunger for a day at most. On top of needing to feed constantly, my mood swings have grown even more erratic, and each day, I feel myself growing weaker. When I’m not falling prey to my own exhaustion, bitterness tends to creep into my thoughts. I was ready to die on my own terms and take my bitch of an ex with me. Now, I’m left to waste into nothingness each day while the person who did this to me still lives.

Thinking of Gina sparks a low ember of anger within me, and I reach for it, wanting to feel something and burn away some of this tired emptiness.

I could try again, I muse, my hands squeezing into fists as I imagine them wrapped around her neck. She’s in a coma. It’d be so easy.

Images run through my mind of Donovan’s furious expression when he found me the night I tried to murder Gina, the look of disappointment on Connor’s face, the wounded tears that filled Callie’s eyes, and the shock and disapproval from Kaleb and Felix the next day. My fists release, and I sigh again. It was awful going through that the first time, knowing how much I hurt them. I don’t have it in me to do it a second time.

“You have that look again,” Callie states, startling me out of my thoughts. Dressed in a thin, long-sleeved, baby pink shirt, she rubs her upper arms for warmth as she joins me out on the balcony.

Slapping on a pleasant smile, I look over at her and, in a cheerful tone, reply, “I don’t know what look you’re talking about. I’m out here enjoying the sunset.”

“You don’t have to lie to me,” she says gently, her sweet face soft with understanding. “It’s okay to be upset.”

Despite fighting it with all I had, I’ve fallen so deeply in love with this girl that it hurts if I think too hard about it. She is a beautiful, bright light in the midst of all my darkness, and every moment with her somehow makes the rest bearable. I open my arms, and she quickly walks into them, wrapping herself tightly around me. Breathing in her fruity floral scent eases some of the blanketing melancholy, but not all of it. My time with her is as limited as my sunsets, and it’s only now, with her in my arms, that I manage to give a damn.

I cup the side of her face, encouraging her to look up at me, and as if the words demand to be said, I murmur, “I love you, Callie Volkov, more than I have any right to. I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner,” against her lips.

Her lips part, but I swallow her reply, kissing her with the passion of all the feelings buried within me. Borrowing energy I don’t really have to give, I slip my hand into her long, blonde hair to hold the back of her head while I plunder the depths of her mouth.

She moans softly as our tongues tangle together, and her hands fist the back of my gray hoodie. Lifting to the tips of her toes, she kisses me back with the same ferocity, meeting my demands with her own.

It feels like a battle, ripping away my pleasant veneer to dance with my darkness. She’s fearless, fueling me with her light while delighting in her own desire. I’m no longer the one in control, and this is no longer a simple expression of my love for her. It’s surrendering to her truth, her love, and her determination to fight for our life together.

Callie bites my bottom lip. The shock of pain is like a bright spark through my brain, burning away everything that isn’t this moment. I press her against the balcony railing, one hand still cupping the back of her head while the other slides up her side, seeking the warmth of her skin under her shirt. She feels scorchingly hot under my icy fingers.

Feasting on her lips, I fall into a wondrous madness that doesn’t understand the concept of anything outside us. There is no beginning or ending, just the delicious taste of her mouth, the softness of her body against mine, and this fire building between us. Hunger of all types consumes me, and it isn’t long before my fangs slide out over my incisors, and the copper taste of blood fills my mouth.

“Shit,” I hiss breathlessly, pulling back to look at her face. “Are you okay?”

She blinks up at me while licking her lip, the pearl of blood disappearing into her mouth. Her cheeks are flushed a pretty pink, and her pupils are blown wide with only a hint of silver surrounding them. With a smile pulling at the edges of her mouth, she slides her hands up my chest and wraps her arms around my neck. “I’m perfect, and it’s only fair since I bit you first.”

I retract my fangs before kissing the tip of her nose. “Yeah, but I liked it.”

“Who says I didn’t?” she counters with a husky purr to her voice that causes shivers to run down my spine.

My little warrior witch has come a long way since the first day we met. Long gone is the girl who walked stiffly by my side as I showed her around school with one arm wrapped around her shoulders. I’m proud of her… and hungry for her in every sense of the word. I’m also painfully tired.

It must show on my face, because her expression shifts to one of sympathy. “Oh, I’m sorry. I got carried away. You must be starving.”

“I kissed you,” I remind her while giving her my best stern expression. “And what did I say about apologizing for things that aren’t your fault?”

Callie grins and pulls my face to hers, stamping my lips with a firm kiss. I try to go in for more, but she teasingly pulls away. “Come on, Casanova. Let’s feed you, then you can have as many kisses as you want.”

“Careful what you promise, my love,” I warn with a suggestive smirk. “I’m insatiable.”

Untangling herself from my embrace, she takes one of my hands and leads me back inside. My bedroom is lit up with the soft glow of the bedside lamps, leaving shadows on the walls. Callie must have turned them on before coming outside to find me.

When we reach the side of my massively large bed, she gently pushes me to sit down on the edge of the mattress. I lift a brow when she pulls her shirt over her head, exposing her lacy, pale blue bra, and straddles my lap. She’s come a long, long way.

“What’s with the look?” she asks while wrapping her arms around my neck, a teasing smile pulling at her lips. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

Resting my hands on her hips, I drink in the girl before me—her golden skin, her soft curves, and the way her breasts swell with each breath. “Doesn’t make the view any less jaw-dropping.” I nuzzle her neck, placing soft kisses as I go. A happy hum vibrates from her throat. “But the look was for how easily you strip in front of me now.”

“How else will I keep blood from staining my clothes?” The words come out in distracted mumbles as my tongue joins the fun.

“If that’s the case,” I purr against her skin, sliding my hands up her spine to finger the back strap of her bra, “we wouldn’t want to stain this, now would we?”

“Nolan Campbell, you wouldn’t be trying to get me naked, would you?” Callie accuses with amusement.

“Me?” I question with false innocence. “I’m just trying to be considerate. I hear it’s difficult to get blood out of lace.”

“I’ve heard that too,” she agrees with a breathy hum.

Placing her hands on my shoulders, she pushes me back onto the bed. The fluffy, black comforter absorbs my fall. Poised over me, she slowly pushes one strap down her shoulder and then the other. She leans down, giving me a view that forces all rational thought from my head.

I swallow heavily, and my heart pounds in excited beats. Saliva pools in my mouth, the memory of her taste dancing on my tongue, while my fingers itch to touch her in all the ways that will make her beg for more.

With her lips close to my ear, she laughs softly. “Nice try. You’re not that messy of an eater.”

The innuendo is there, waiting for me to turn my seductress into a blushing mess—something like it depends on what I’m eating—but I swallow it. Well, most of it. “I could make things messier if you’d like, then take my time licking you clean.”

Callie jolts back up and starts rapidly blinking—a sign she’s lost for words. The expected blush creeps across her cheeks. “I, uh, that won’t… I mean, if you want…”

“Relax.” I chuckle, tugging her back down and wrapping my arms around her. “I’m only teasing you.”

“Sorry,” she mumbles, pressing her cheek to my chest. “I know we haven’t… um, done anything more… uh, well, you know… since that night with Donovan.”

“I don’t know,” I reply cheekily. “You’ll have to refresh my memory.”

She smacks my shoulder with the tips of her fingers. “I’m being serious. Does it bother you that we haven’t…”

“No, it doesn’t bother me,” I assure her, rubbing her lower back.

“It wasn’t that I didn’t like it,” she explains, worry creeping into her voice, “because I did. It’s just…”

“Callie, look at me,” I order as gently as possible. She sits up far enough to look into my eyes, her gaze troubled. “It’s really okay. I happen to like kissing and cuddling.” I leave out the part where I’ve been too exhausted to do more. I don’t like talking about how sick I am. It tends to ruin the mood.

She starts to nod and then frowns, her eyes scanning my face. It’s not in a loving way, more like a doctor looking for all the known signs of a dying patient. She’s cataloging the heavy, purple bags under my eyes, the hollows under my cheeks, the sharp features indicative of starvation, and how I’m so pale that I’m practically blue.

I attempt an unaffected smile, but it feels brittle at the edges—one dark thought away from collapsing. “I’m fine,” I lie.

“Let’s feed you,” she responds in a no-nonsense kind of way while climbing off me. “Lie back against the pillows. I’ll go get towels.”

Total mood killer. I sigh, kick off my sneakers, pull off my socks, and do what she asks. Nestled in a pile of maroon pillows, I wait, flexing my feet idly.

She returns quickly with a stack of black towels and sets them down on the bedside table closest to me. Her bra straps are back in place, no longer hanging off her shoulders, and her expression is carefully blank. Grabbing the towel on top, she crawls across the bed, opens the towel, and places it over my chest.

“I thought I wasn’t that messy of an eater,” I joke, hoping to tease a smile out of her.

It’s a weak, forced smile that fools neither of us. “Better safe than sorry.”

“I’m okay. Really.” Such a big fucking lie. My body is so starved for blood that it feels like it’s eating itself from the inside out. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“You don’t have to lie to me,” she says, twisting her hair over one shoulder to expose her long, graceful neck.

“Then don’t look at me like I’m going to keel over at any second,” I reply harsher than I mean to. Her gaze turns sad, and I can tell she’s about to apologize again, so I beat her to the punch. “I’m sorry, love. You’re right, I’m hungry, and it’s making me grouchy.”

“I can help with that,” she says softly, leaning over so her exposed neck is right in front of my watering mouth.

Certain that if I open my mouth, I’ll say something stupid again, I wordlessly accept what she’s offering. With my lips pressed against her skin, I run my tongue along her flesh, my saliva having a numbing effect that prevents the bite from hurting. Her breath hitches from the contact, and she presses her hands against my chest. When my fangs sink into her, she releases a low, happy sigh that would worry me if I wasn’t starving.

Her blood bursts onto my tongue like I bit into perfectly ripe fruit, and I groan with relief. I want to be gentle, to take sips so as not to harm her, but it’s like a floodgate breaks inside me, my body desperate to replenish what I’ve lost. Within seconds, I fist her hair, and my other arm drags her into my lap as I gulp down her blood. Her magic courses through me, and I finally feel warm.

Callie doesn’t resist, moaning under the pleasure of vampire venom. I’m still frightened about potential addiction, but at least for now, she’s lost to pleasure instead of sadness. The towel covering my chest falls between us as I sit up to get better leverage to feed. She tugs it away, then her hands snake under my clothes to my bare stomach. My body comes alive under her touch, and I want more of her. In these moments, when her blood coats my throat and her magic feeds my soul, I feel like I have the energy to do anything, like I’m invincible.

Retracting my fangs, I rip my hoodie and shirt up over my head and kiss her like I need the air from her lungs to survive. She squeaks with surprise and then gives as good as she gets. Now that I’m not immediately feeding, my energy is like sand running quickly through an hourglass, but I need this—a moment where I’m not the sickly boy wasting away, but someone in deep, frenzied love.

The kiss before was nothing compared to this one. Blood smears across our bare skin as we cling to each other like we’re drowning. My hands roam down her body as she shifts to straddle me, and I grip her ass through her tight jeans. She grinds against me, and I see stars. Old me would slow us down and draw it out until Callie was panting and desperate simply from the brush of lips and fingertips, but old me had fucking time.

A little longer, I think while releasing a throaty groan as her fingernails drag down my chest.

Just a few more minutes to be with her like this,I beg as she moans my name while I tease her through her bra.

The grains of sand reach the bottom too quickly. While my tongue dances with hers, and she drags my sweatpants lower, a wave of fatigue hits me so hard I collapse back onto the pillows. I’m like a bright, burning candle that was suddenly snuffed out.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur, my eyelids falling closed because it takes too much energy to leave them open. “I can’t…”

“It’s, uh… It’s okay,” Callie assures me, equally as breathless.

“Don’t leave,” I mumble when she moves off the bed, drowsiness making me slur my words. I want to hold her, but my arms are dead weights at my sides.

The bed shifts as she climbs back to me, and the last thing I remember before sleep takes me is the soft touch of her lips on my forehead as she whispers, “I’m not going anywhere.”