Kindred Spirit: Book Five of the Bound Spirit Series

Chapter 13

Nolan

Despite previously being a large family library, my grandmother’s makeshift lab feels nearly claustrophobic with all of the medical equipment and people crammed inside. On one side of the room, my cousins sit on a hospital bed surrounded by various monitoring devices while Dalia takes their vitals. The bed looks out over the back of the property, so at least I’ll have a nice view when I’m too sick to sleep in my own room. Ever since I got this stupid walker, I fear that time is fast approaching.

Mildred and my parents stand on the other side, lodged between a large oak desk and a table covered in a bunch of items that look like modern medicine made friends with a mad scientist. Their expressions range from concerned—my parents—to worn patience—Mildred. Despite, or maybe because of, how close they’ve had to work together, the two older women seem to both respect and disdain each other in equal measures. Callie and I are near the door, with me sitting on said stupid walker and her behind me. While I’m drinking my morning serving of her blood, she absently runs her fingers through my hair. It’s grown shaggier than I usually like to keep it, but it’s been hard to care when literally everything makes me tired.

Today we’re supposed to get the results from the tests that were done about six weeks ago. I don’t know why it took so long to get answers, but then again, I wasn’t privy to what kinds of tests they were in the first place. I’m the one who’s sick. What did my grandmother need from my cousins, and why did it also involve Callie?

Finishing up her final notes, Dalia places her stethoscope down on a small, metal table and then hands my cousins cups filled with blood donations from their thralls, Martin and Maria. The twins appear unhappy with the taste, frowning at their cups, before looking at Callie in a way that makes me wish I was stronger so I could speed over and snap their necks. My mood swings have also gotten worse, to the point where I can’t determine if this is a warranted reaction, but the thought sits way too comfortably in my mind. The hunger for violence must show on my face, because their attention quickly returns to their own cups.

My grandmother takes her notes and sits behind her desk. Retrieving a folder from one of the drawers below, she flips it open, sifts through a couple of pages, and then lays it flat before her. She leans forward, resting her folded hands on the desk. “Since I wasn’t authorized to send Callie’s blood in for testing” —she flashes a cold look at Mildred, which earns a dismissive eyebrow raise in return— “I needed a control to get a sense of how her blood affects healthy, similarly aged vampires. Kaven and Ellessa were the best I could do considering the—” Her lips press tightly together as she chooses her words. “Sensitive nature of all involved.”

My mother grips my father’s hand as she meets my grandmother’s gaze. “What did you find, and what does it mean in terms of helping Nolan?”

“By my estimations, the twins could probably go another month, possibly longer, before their vampiric abilities would heighten due to strain,” my grandmother explains, eyeing Callie curiously.

Recalling how I was able to charm an entire group of people outside of Callie’s classroom last semester, I ask, “I don’t understand. Why do we get stronger if we’re starving?”

“It’s a survival instinct left over from earlier evolutions,” she explains, her voice filled with a scholastic flare. “During times of famine, our bodies will use what little reserves we have to heighten our abilities to attract as much food as possible. This ranges from being far more compelling with our charms, to our scent becoming almost impossible to resist.” Distaste pinches her lips into a sour circle. “Some members of our kind will choose to constrict their diets in an effort to remain in this state. It’s a dangerous practice that, if not monitored carefully, can result in permanent injury or death.”

My parents flinch over the word “death,” but it doesn’t bother me. Even as I fight to survive, the thought of the end almost seems peaceful at times—no more pain, no more exhaustion, and freedom from this body that has suffered so much. “I’m clearly past that stage. Why am I still alive?”

“Nolan!” my mother exclaims, placing one hand on her trembling lips. “Don’t speak that way.”

“He has a right to be curious,” my father defends while stroking her arm gently.

“It’s better to ask the hard questions than remain in the dark,” Dalia remarks, appearing almost pained to be agreeing with my father. “Plainly speaking, you shouldn’t be.”

“Mother, don’t tell your own grandson he should be dead!” my mother shouts, breaking away from my father to face off against her from the other side of the desk. “I can’t believe I have to tell you that.”

“It won’t help him to sugarcoat things,” she replies, casting a critical eye over her daughter.

I sigh and lean back into Callie, resting my head against her stomach. “It’s okay. It isn’t exactly a surprise.”

Callie places her hands on my shoulders and rubs the tight muscles with her thumbs. “This just means that Nolan is beating the odds. So what’s our next step?”

“As I was in the process of explaining,” Dalia states, her voice strained with fraying patience, “I believe I know what the spell is doing. Its purpose is to leech magic from my grandson and leave him in a perpetual state of hunger. In its early stages, that was a small amount, enough that bagged blood was no longer digestible.”

“So what changed?” my father asks, pulling his wife away from the desk and collecting her into his arms.

Mildred’s expression shifts to one of sad understanding when she looks over at me and Callie. “Nolan gained access to more magically enriched blood.”

My grandmother nods gravely. “Based on what I’ve discussed with Matriarch Volkov, magic, if not crafted carefully, has a mind of its own and will take measures to fulfill its purpose.” She leans back in her chair and crosses her arms. “Since this spell’s purpose was to keep Nolan in a constant state of borderline starvation, the spell began consuming more magic to offset the more magically enriched blood.”

“If it’s supposed to keep me on the brink of starvation, then why am I way past it now?” I ask, surprisingly detached. The anger is there, but it’s muted under exhaustion.

Dalia glances at Callie before meeting my eyes. “Was there an extended period of time when you weren’t feeding from Miss Volkov?”

“Oh no,” Callie whispers, digging her fingers into my shoulders. “This is my fault.”

I reach up to grip her hand, squeezing it hard, until she looks down at me. “No. You did nothing wrong. You didn’t cast this spell, you didn’t know what was happening, and we both agreed it was better if I stopped feeding from you… for a while.” I say the last bit as more of a comfort to my parents, because the truth was, I planned to never feed from her again. I planned to die that night at the party.

“Fault is irrelevant,” my grandmother interjects with a flick of her hand. “Point standing, during that period of time, the spell was continuing to take the same level of magic despite Nolan no longer consuming the more magically enriched blood. All living creatures have some innate magic that is crucial to our survival. Vampires need blood to continue to nourish this innate magic.”

My mother frowns as she absorbs what Dalia is saying. “So Nolan is currently at a deficit of this innate magic despite the increase in his consumption of Callie’s blood.”

“Correct,” she answers and then reaches for the folder on her desk. “Based on my calculations, this spell will continue to grow at an exponential rate equal to the amount of magic Nolan consumes.”

“Does that mean by increasing the frequency of his feedings, we made him worse?” Callie asks, the guilt she’s experiencing evident in the thickening of her voice.

Dalia places the folder back down and pinches the bridge of her nose. “Again, placing blame does little to help cure my grandson. The point is that although he may appear worse, as long as he doesn’t miss his feedings, he should be able to remain weak but stable.”

There’s a twisted hope in my parents’ eyes that makes me sick. Panic feeds my heart, and I leap to my feet, knocking over my walker and dropping my mostly empty cup of blood to the ground. “I can’t stay like this forever!”

The twins, having remained quiet through the entire explanation of my pathetic future, move for the cup with supernatural speed. Fighting for a taste of Callie’s blood, they dip their fingers into the magically rich liquid and moan in ecstasy as they suck them clean. While most of us are stunned speechless, Mildred is quick to whisper a few words, and a burst of localized wind throws them up and over the other side of the hospital bed, slamming them into the monitoring equipment. The cup once again hits the ground, splattering what little remained on the hardwood floor. The twins groan, gingerly getting up, and look warily at the witches in the room.

Callie carefully reaches down, picks up the cup, and closes her eyes, and with a wave of her hand, the blood swirls up from everywhere it landed and settles back into the container. A frost then coats the base of the cup, turning the remains into a blood popsicle. Placing it on the desk, she suggests, “Might want to dispose of that. I don’t think the three second rule applies to blood.”

Mildred smiles at her, pride lighting up her face. “You’ve been practicing.”

“I have,” she replies, returning her smile with a slightly self-conscious one of her own. She tucks her hair behind her ears. “I based it on the spell you did to get all of the smoke out of my room that one time.”

“Very clever, darling,” Mildred praises, taking the few steps needed to give Callie a hug. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Yes, she can clean up a bloodstain. How very impressive,” Dalia mocks, seemingly unfazed. She points at Kaven and Ellessa, her eyes narrowing into icy daggers. “You two, however, are disappointments. Your lack of control is offensive, acting no better than dogs fighting over scraps.” She dismisses them with a wave of her hand. “Go attempt to make yourselves useful somewhere else, if only to prove you are capable of civility.”

“Apologies, Grandmother,” they state in unison, their eyes cast down, and shuffle toward the door. Mildred intentionally places herself between my cousins and Callie, her gaze threatening as they pass, and closes the door firmly behind them.

“Violet is far too indulgent with her offspring,” my grandmother observes with distaste before returning her attention to me. “As for you, sit down before you embarrass yourself any further. Your premature outburst led to a completely avoidable altercation.”

While my father looks at the cup on the table as if it’s possibly laced with something, my mother breaks away from him with a sigh. “Mother, I know bedside manner isn’t your strong suit, but perhaps try exercising some compassion when speaking to your grandson.”

Dalia doesn’t respond, simply staring at me until I do what she asks. With stinging pride, I allow Callie to set my walker upright before I sit back down. She places a comforting hand on my shoulder, and I do my best not to lash out at her. I love her with everything I have, but sometimes her caring acts feel like pity. Logically, I know they aren’t, but in my heart, it’s hard to see I have much worth in contrast to the other guys who are healthy and strong.

Surprisingly, Mildred places a hand on my other shoulder, squeezing it gently. “I promise we will find a way to cure you. Though difficult, this is only temporary. What’s important is that we have time to make you better.”

“Which was the point I was getting to,” my grandmother interjects, gripping the arms of her swivel chair. “Although your symptoms may appear to be getting worse, you should be able to withstand them until this spell can be removed.”

“That’s good news,” my father states, relief coloring his sharp features. “We’ll be able to beat this.”

“As long as the Volkovs do their part, yes,” Dalia adds, her cool eyes landing on Mildred. “With continued, sufficient blood, I can keep my grandson stable.”

My mother begins to cry, and when she rushes over to hug me, Mildred and Callie step back to give her room. “It will all be okay, I promise.”

“Yeah,” I reply with mediocre enthusiasm, forcing a tight smile on my face. Just because we now understand what’s wrong with me, it doesn’t mean we’re any closer to breaking the curse.

Mildred wraps an arm around Callie’s shoulder. “I think Miss Reyes has slept long enough to heal from her wounds. It’s time to wake her up and get some answers.”

Gently patting my mother’s back as she releases months of worry in the form of tears, I challenge, “She said she doesn’t remember, and trust me, she had no choice but to tell the truth.”

“I’m sure she couldn’t,” Mildred replies, her tone kind. “However, I know a spell to pull latent memories to the forefront of the mind. From what I gathered from her and the others involved, I should be able to reconstruct what was cast on you. Knowing how it was carrying out its directions was the final piece needed to attempt crafting a spell to cure you.”

White noise fills my ears, and I feel like I’m floating outside of my body. “Wait. You can really cure me?”

“Yes, Nolan,” she answers, her brown eyes tear bright and her smile warm. “It may take some time, but you will get better.”

It’s my father’s turn to race over, gathering my mother and me within his arms. Happy tears rain everywhere, but I’m still too shocked to react. Despite all my promises to never give up, I had. I’ve been like this for so long, I saw death as my release from the punishment of living. I don’t know how to comprehend existing without the pain.

Callie gets a determined look on her face as she meets my eyes. “Let’s go wake her up then.”

“Not today,” Mildred insists, focusing her attention on her granddaughter. “Your birthday is tomorrow, and I believe you have an appointment to have your nails done with Mei this afternoon.”

“This is obviously more important,” Callie counters, stepping away and placing her fists on her hips. “Mei will understand.”

“I want to meet with the other girls first and gather what I can from them before I attempt to retrieve memories from Gina,” she explains, her expression one of understanding and limitless patience. “Any spell that affects the mind can have devastating, unforeseen consequences. The more precise I can be, the better our chances are of getting the information we need.”

Guilt fills Callie’s eyes as she looks at me. “How can I celebrate my birthday when we’re so close to finding a cure?”

With extreme effort, I untangle myself from my parents, stand up, and walk over to her. Cupping her face, I stare into those eyes I love so much. “You deserve a day to celebrate you.” My thumb brushes over her lips when she is about to argue, and a teasing smile pulls at the corners of my mouth. “You heard my grandmother, I’ll keep. Besides, I picked the best present out of everyone, and there’s no way I’m missing seeing you open it.”

“Okay,” she replies reluctantly, her brows furrowing.

I drop my hands from her face to give her a quick hug, and then I gently spin her toward the door. “Have fun getting your nails done. Tell Mei I say hi. Send pictures when you’re done so I can properly compliment them like a good boyfriend.”

“I’ve never gone to get my nails done before,” she comments absently, looking down at her fingers.

“All the more reason to enjoy the experience,” Mildred chimes in, smiling over at Callie before mouthing a silent, “Thank you,” to me.

Shrugging, I mouth back, “No problem.”

When they leave, my grandmother looks up from her notes to glare at us. “Why are you still here? I have work to do.”

My mother smiles sweetly. “You’re always such a pleasure, Mother.”

“Sarcasm is unbecoming,” she chastises, flicks her hand in dismissal, and then gets back to her work, making notations on the various documents on her desk.

My father wraps an arm around my shoulder and leads us out of the room, while my mother follows closely behind with my walker in case I need to sit down at a moment’s notice. Now that I know it’s temporary, I hate it a little less.

As we walk down the hall, my father states, “Once you’re better, I think it’s time for a family vacation anywhere you want to go.”

“I think that’s a lovely idea,” my mother agrees, her voice bright with joy.

“Can I bring Callie and the guys?” I ask, flashing a pleading expression with puppy eyes. “They are basically family at this point.”

Sighing, my father gives me an exaggerated put upon face that fools no one. “Not exactly what I had in mind, but I guess it’s alright.”

“Does that include James?” my mother asks, amusement coloring her words. “I have noticed you two getting quite close again since the accident.”

“Yes,” I reply, already knowing where this is heading. “And before you ask, we’re just friends.”

“If I recall correctly,” she muses, her teasing smile audible, “that’s what you said about our dear Callie when she was first introduced to us.”

“Just because your mother and I are romantically monogamous, that doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with being involved with more than one person,” my father interjects, and I try not to think about how he’s so specific about what kind of monogamy they practice. “As long as everyone involved is aware and consenting.”

“Thank you for the relationship advice,” I grumble, though part of me is enjoying this. It’s nice to see them back to their old nosy selves, instead of the worried melancholy they’ve projected for the last few months.

“I’ve also noticed Donovan is around more frequently,” my mother comments with false innocence.

“Mother,” I groan, dragging my hand down my face. “Donovan is Donovan. He isn’t really a labels kind of guy. He’s there. He cares. That’s all that matters. Besides, I’m dating Callie. She’s more than enough to fill my romantic needs.”

“Alright. Alright,” she concedes and then laughs. It’s a beautiful, melodious sound that I’ve missed.

When we enter the grand foyer, a teary-eyed Margaret, the family housekeeper, stands in the center of the room with a wobbly smile on her face.

My mother immediately races over to hug the older woman. “Are you alright?”

She sniffs and dabs at her eyes. “Yes, yes of course. These are happy tears. It’s been so long since I’ve heard the three of you laughing and making plans. It warms my heart.”

“That’s because we have excellent news.” My father beams, squeezing my shoulders. “Nolan is recovering. Soon, he’ll be back to his old self.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” she cheers, clapping her hands together. “I can’t wait to tell Alicia. We’ve both been so worried. I’m sure she’ll want to make something extravagant this evening to celebrate.” She scurries over to me and grabs my hands, giving them a loving squeeze. “I’m so happy. Now off to bed with you for your nap. I’ll bring up some hearty soup for lunch. It’ll help put some meat back on your bones.”

“Any chance I can also get a slice of Alicia’s mixed berry tart?” I ask, knowing how happy it will make her that I’m asking for more food. My appetite hasn’t been the best as of late.

She gives me a wink. “I think I can rustle up a slice.”

“You’re the best,” I praise, dropping a quick kiss on her rosy cheek.

She beams up at me and then shoos us away before scurrying off to tell Alicia, her wife and our family cook, the good news.

By the time we reach the elevator, I’m tired and have to sit back down on my walker. I remind myself that it’s only temporary, and for once, I let hope begin to take root. Soon, I’ll be healthy and free from the last remaining hold Gina has on me—all because I dared to love another witch.