Kindred Spirit: Book Five of the Bound Spirit Series

Chapter 18

Kaleb

After landing just beyond the front porch of Callie’s home, I dismiss my wings and put my polo shirt back on. It’s wrinkled from being in my pocket, which isn’t an ideal look when confessing one’s feelings… again, but I couldn’t stand the idea of waiting long enough to drive over—not when I have such little time before leaving for the nephilim retreat. Common sense would advise me to talk to Callie when I return. I waited this long, so what’s another week?

However, after witnessing how close Nolan was to never seeing another tomorrow, it made me realize how precious every day is. Waiting until I can be the perfect boyfriend is asinine, and I’m just falling into the trap I’ve been in my whole life. I don’t want to be perfect, and Callie doesn’t want me to be perfect, yet I let that limitation stand in the way of what I want.

Grappling with this realization has also forced me to look at the real root of my resistance—fear. Fear of failure. Fear of not being enough. Fear that when she gets to know the real me, whoever that is, she’ll no longer love me. If I kept my distance, if we remained friends, then I could protect myself from the potential pain, except it feels like agony to push her away when all I want to do is hold her close.

It’s time to stop overthinking all the things that can go wrong. All it does is hinder any chance for real happiness. For once in my life, I’m going to be reckless and selfish. I’m going to be brave.

As I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans as I approach the front door, it dawns on me that I came empty-handed. I was so wrapped up in my need to tell Callie now, I completely forgot to bring flowers—not that they would have survived the flight over. It makes me feel strangely exposed. Moments like this are supposed to come with romantic gestures, but all I have is me. All I have to offer is my heart. Hopefully, that will be enough.

As I gather the courage to knock on the front door, I nearly leap out of my skin when it opens.

Mildred wears an amused expression, her lips quirked to one side as she takes in my startled state. “I do hope you’re not having second thoughts.”

“Second thoughts?” I echo like a prized parrot.

“About dating my granddaughter,” she supplies, raising one blonde brow. “That is why you’re here, right?”

“No,” I blurt, because my brain hasn’t quite caught up with my mouth.

“Well, that’s disappointing,” Carlotta calls from her seat at the kitchen table, placing her teacup down on its matching saucer. “Even if you are nephilim, you seem like such a nice boy—a good balance to all of my granddaughter’s other boyfriends. I still think Callie could also find a nice witch boy to date. I can think of at least half a dozen good suitors…”

Mildred sighs as she looks over her shoulder at the other matriarch. “For the hundredth time, you will not set Callie up with a witch for balance. She’s more than capable of appreciating witch culture without having to be romantically involved with one of our kind.”

“No, I mean I’m not having second thoughts,” I clarify, trying not to grimace over the idea of Callie having yet another boyfriend.

“What’s the harm?” Carlotta argues as if I haven’t said anything. “She already has multiple boyfriends. Why not one more? This one can help guide her through witch society. I’ll make sure her prospects are all powerful witches, so she will have an equal.”

“No one is her equal,” Mildred and I say in unison.

The Lyncas matriarch rolls her eyes, picks up her teacup, and grumbles, “You’re all so literal,” before taking a sip. She frowns at the liquid and then adds more sugar.

“At least you’re finally willing to admit Callie is a spirit witch,” Mildred comments, stepping to the side so I can enter.

“Obviously our granddaughter is special and has a power that the modern era has never seen,” Carlotta acquiesces, crossing her legs at the ankle and taking another sip of her tea. Seemingly pleased with the mixture, she continues, “However, the idea that the council has somehow been systematically eliminating any witch that shows signs of these abilities without anyone noticing seems a bit far-fetched. It seems far more logical that the power is simply so incredibly rare that it’s fallen into obscurity.”

“What about the journals?” I point out, stepping far enough inside so the door can close behind me. “They clearly show that there used to be women with Callie’s powers who held some type of leadership role.”

Carlotta motions between herself and Mildred with her free hand. “Undoubtedly recordings of early matriarchs known by another name. It’s been over a millennium since those were written. Governing powers change and evolve.” She takes a final sip before setting her teacup down. “I know you’re still learning the intricacies of witch society” —she gives Mildred a hard look that illustrates her disapproval that I know anything at all— “however, one of the basic fundamentals is that our most powerful lead, because that power allows us to govern all supernaturals.”

“Except for vampires,” I note, unsure how I got sucked into this argument in the first place.

“Only furthering my point,” she insists, picking through a selection of finger sandwiches. “It seems highly unlikely that the council would waste an advantage on the vampire queen.”

“They would if it meant holding onto their own power,” Mildred counters, returning to her seat at the kitchen table, and then she shoos me away with a flick of her wrist. “You didn’t come here to help me debate the power structure of witches. Go upstairs and give my granddaughter the good news that you’ve come to your senses.”

“Just one second,” Carlotta interjects, licking a bit of egg salad from her thumb. She holds out her hand and murmurs something under her breath. A wave of hot, dry air surrounds me for a few seconds before dissipating. “There, much better. Can’t have you looking like a rumpled mess when you’re confessing your devotion.”

Looking down at myself, I notice my shirt is now wrinkle free. “Thank you.”

“You’re most welcome.” She beams at me and then makes her own shooing motion. “Go sweep her off her feet.” She aims her smile at Mildred. “Isn’t young love so sweet?”

“It is,” Mildred agrees, her voice tender and a bit wistful.

The fae, currently still known only as Mr. Mischief, wanders into the kitchen in his house cat form. He eyes Carlotta before leaping into Mildred’s lap. She unconsciously scratches him behind the ears and under his chin, and his menacing stare loses some of its heat when he starts to purr.

“This is utter madness,” Carlotta fumes, glaring down at him. “That is a conscious being that still refuses to explain himself. He’s a literal interloper, and you… you… continue to treat him like a pet!”

“We don’t know his circumstances. Perhaps it’s difficult for him to shift to a humanoid form,” Mildred protests, using her free hand to pick up her teacup. “All his actions have shown that he means no harm to Callie or me, and he’s the first fae to reveal himself since the days of the shifter wars. I’m certainly not going to chase him away due to a lack of patience.”

“Patience?” Carlotta shouts, her expression one of indignant outrage. “This is not about patience.”

Afraid that if I don’t move now, I’ll be caught in another disagreement between the two women, I quickly make my way upstairs and down the hall to Callie’s room. After taking a fortifying breath, I open the door.

Callie is curled up on her side in bed, sound asleep, her hands fisted under her chin. Carefully, I walk over and sit on her bed, admiring her sleeping face. Part of me wants to leave her this way, but the ticking clock of the nephilim retreat looms, and now that the decision is made, I can’t leave without telling her I love her and that being with her is more important than my fears.

Brushing her hair away from her face, I murmur, “Callie.”

Her nose scrunches up, and she tugs her comforter up over her shoulder.

“Callie,” I call again softly while gently shaking her.

She slowly blinks her beautiful gray eyes open, and her sleeping pout spreads to a delighted smile. “Kaleb.”

My name sounds sweet on her lips, and it makes me want to taste them. I’ve been holding back for so long. Now, it all just feels like wasted time.

“Hello, columba mea,” I reply with a smile.

As she grows more alert, her brows furrow. Looking through the French doors that lead out to her small balcony, she notices the sinking sun disappearing behind the forest. “Aren’t you supposed to be heading to the retreat by now?”

“I asked if I could check on you first before we left,” I explain, my fingers curling into the blue bedspread as I yearn to touch her.

“Oh.” Her worry lines fade, replaced with a sleepy smile. She yawns and stretches underneath the blanket, arching her back and pointing her toes. “I’m okay, just need some rest and to replenish sugar and all that.”

“I’m glad,” I reply as my heart begins to pound in my chest. What if I waited too long?

When I don’t move or say anything further, she sits up against her pillow and takes my hand. “You seem to be thinking really hard. What’s going on?”

I examine our joined hands, hers so much smaller than mine. To the outside observer, she would appear weak, but she’s far from it—not just in power, but in determination and drive. When she wants something, she fights for it. I admire that.

“Earth to Kaleb,” Callie calls, waving her free hand in front of my face.

“I don’t want to be perfect anymore,” I admit, clasping her hand between mine.

“That’s a good thing,” she murmurs, placing her free hand on my knee. “It’s too much for anyone to attempt.”

“All my life, I’ve done what I was supposed to do.” I trace the back of her hand with my fingertips, worried about how cold her skin is. “I did the right things, said the right things, and made sure never to be a problem, because I was raised on horror stories of my parents’ past. They are well over a hundred years old, and I hear them talk often about how despite how things have changed, too much is still the same. Even knowing everything I did would never be enough, I still did it because it was all I could do to protect myself.”

Her tone is soft and empathetic as she whispers, “Oh, Kaleb.”

“But it’s also caged me to the point where I don’t know who I really am,” I continue while rubbing her hand between mine to try and provide some warmth.

She squeezes my knee. “I told you who you are.”

“Rattle the stars, I remember.” My laugh feels choked as I try to get to the point of my visit.

I don’t understand why this is so hard. She already told me she loves me, and I already told her I love her, but everything I fear still exists inside me. I know I’m still jealous, and it will be something I’ll have to fight with every day. Except, something snapped loose inside me when I watched Callie heal Nolan. I saw the love between them, and I wanted it desperately for myself.

“So you’ve decided to stop trying to be perfect, and by doing so, you’re going to figure out who you are?” Callie prompts when I’ve once again fallen silent.

I nod as I try to swallow down my anxiety. “I’m going to start doing what I want to do instead of just what I’m supposed to do.”

She looks at me curiously. “And what do you want to do?”

“I want to be with you,” I admit, lifting my gaze to hers.

Her smile wobbles, and her eyes grow glossy with tears. “I want that too, but can you? Has anything changed since the letter?”

“I realized that tomorrow isn’t promised to us.” I lift her hand to my cheek. “Every day I waste trying to change myself to be perfect is a day when we could be together. I may have a couple hundred years left, or I may just have today.”

“Don’t ever imply that you aren’t going to live until you’re wrinkled and gray,” she chastises, running her thumb along my cheek. “I can’t bear the thought of losing you. I brought one of us back from the dead and another from the brink of death, so don’t think I won’t do the same for you.”

“I promise I have every intention of living a long life,” I assure her, sliding closer to her, “but my point still stands. If I only had today, I’d want to spend it loving you.”

A tear drips down her cheek, and she reaches for my hand, placing it over her heart. “I love you, Kaleb Ward, and if you’re getting to the point that I hope you are, then I accept.”

This time my laugh is genuine, the tightness in my chest easing with her declaration. I lean over and pull her into my arms. Pressing my lips to her ear, I ask, “Callie Lyncas Volkov, would you be my girlfriend?”

“Yes!” she squeals in delight, wrapping her arms around my neck.

“No special things you need to tell me before accepting?” I tease, running my hands down her back.

“Super witch. Extra boyfriends. Mate. Can bring people back from the dead. Oh, and apparently, I’m going to be a matriarch one day,” she says and then playfully scrunches up her nose like she’s thinking really hard. “Nope, that pretty much covers it.”

“Good, because I’m going to kiss you now, and I prefer no additional surprises,” I state, brushing my nose against hers.

“I can’t promise that.” She giggles, her lips hovering millimeters from my own. “I’m just full of surprises.”

“Like?” I prompt, reaching underneath her tank top to caress the base of her spine.

“Like this,” she purrs, and then she kisses me like we’re the only two people in this world.

It’s passionate and demanding, leaving me no option but to follow her. I was the one in control of every kiss before, but now, anytime I try, she catapults us into a deeper frenzy. Her hands drag along my scalp as our tongues fill each other’s mouths. She moans when my fingers explore her silken skin, my thumbs grazing the sides of her breasts. It feels so good to finally touch her without restraint. At this moment, she is mine, and that’s all that matters.

When she can’t take it anymore, she rips her mouth from mine and rasps, “Both of my grandmothers are downstairs, so I’m going to need you to fly us somewhere private right now!”

“Or we could lock the door, and you could use your magic to soundproof the room,” I suggest, kissing her neck.

“Or we could do that,” she mumbles, tilting her chin up to give me better access.

Logic says this is insane and we should slow down, but I’m tired of logic. I love her, I want her, and I’m done denying myself.

Wrapping my arms around her, I guide her back onto the bed. With herculean effort, I pull away long enough to lock the door and pull my shirt off.

Callie’s eyes trail down my naked chest as I approach, and she licks her lips. “You are beautiful.”

Leaving my shirt abandoned on the floor, I smile as I crawl into her waiting embrace. She runs her hands down my back and wraps her bare legs around my waist. I rock my hips into her, rubbing my growing erection against her core. She moans as she thrusts up to meet me.

As I kiss a hot trail along her shoulder and push down the strap of her tank top, I remind her, “Soundproofing?”

“Right,” she murmurs, her voice thick with desire. “Unless you want the whole town to be silent, I’m going to need to focus.”

I nip the crux of her neck and shoulder. “Am I distracting?”

“Very,” she whispers, squeezing her legs tighter around me.

Shifting to my knees, I sit up and slowly run my hands along her thighs.

She waves a finger in my general direction. “All of this is still distracting.”

Amusement colors my voice when I ask, “Do you want me to put my shirt back on?”

“Absolutely not,” she states with a flirtatious pull of her lips. “I just thought it was important for you to know.”

Before Callie can attempt to cast the spell, there’s a heavy thump on her balcony. Startled, we both look over to find Donovan, shirtless with his wings out.

Not bothering to knock, he strolls through the attached French doors, ducking low enough for his wings to fit through the entryway. A slow, creeping grin takes over his face. “This is my kind of bedside manner.”

Callie props up onto her elbows while a small frown puckers her brow. “Huh?”

Motioning in my direction, he answers, “K said he was only coming over here to check on you.” His eyes do a slow sweep of Callie and me. His gaze catches on the way her legs are wrapped around my waist, her tank top rucked up near her breasts—exposing her stomach and underwear—and my hands resting on her outer thighs. “Looks like you’re doing more than fine.”

“What do you want, Donovan?” I ask with strained patience, equal parts annoyed and relieved that he interrupted before we were in a more compromising position.

“So many things right now,” he replies, his salacious smile causing Callie to blush, and then he sighs wistfully. “Unfortunately, Keziah and Ray are waiting for us outside in the car.” He shifts his attention to me, his voice dripping with disdain and sarcasm. “Come on. We can’t miss the first night of angel camp.”

While gently extracting myself from Callie’s embrace, I tell her, “It’s a retreat, not a summer camp. It’s an important opportunity to reconnect with our community. We might even find out about our future assignments.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Donovan mutters, crossing his arms over his chest.

As I pull the blanket over Callie, a sad pang squeezes my heart. Once again, I’m kicking myself for waiting so long. We may only have a year before I’m sent off to some other part of the world. Her thoughts must echo mine, because her lips pull down as her eyebrows fall low over her eyes.

After placing tender kisses to her forehead, the tip of her nose, and her mouth, I murmur, “No matter where I am, my heart belongs to you, and no matter how far apart we are, we’ll find a way back to each other.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” she replies, stealing another kiss before we part.

Donovan rolls his eyes. “You’re not going off to war. We’ll be back in a week.”

Not bothering to correct the intent behind my statement, I pick up my shirt from the floor, summon my wings, and head for the balcony.

“You know I have a front door you can use,” Callie comments with an exasperated expression.

“And get caught in the middle of one of your grandmothers’ battles? Hard pass,” Donovan retorts, approaching Callie’s bed.

I look away when he leans down to kiss her, but the sounds alone indicate it’s not a quick peck on the lips. A familiar jealousy boils up, but I do my best to breathe out the feeling. I’ve decided to be a part of this, and I won’t make my issues Callie’s burdens. She has enough of them without me adding to them.

When they finally finish, Donovan shares a far too comprehensive account of all the things he’d like to do to her that leaves Callie stammering.

“Time to go,” I interrupt, walking outside to stop myself from dragging him away from her. Leaping from the balcony railing, I glide down and land on the spongy grass. I dismiss my wings and start tugging my shirt back over my head.

Donovan appears almost silently next to me while I’m tucking my shirt into my jeans. “Might want to leave that loose unless you want your parents to see the huge bulge in your pants.”

Annoyed and embarrassed, I pull my shirt out, stuff my hands in my pockets like that will somehow help, and march toward the front of the house.

His gait is easy as he keeps pace with me, and he looks far too amused over my discomfort. “Glad you finally got over yourself. It was fucking painful to watch.”

I grunt in response and keep walking.

“No long-winded speech of the necessity to think things through and weigh the consequences before committing?” he taunts, clearly baiting me.

Unfortunately, it works.

Stopping abruptly, I turn toward him as all of my uglier emotions simmer on the surface. “No, because I didn’t.” Waving my hand toward the house, I explain, “Me being with Callie is reckless. With the way I am and the future I hold, the potential consequences of our relationship are staggering.” I run both hands over my head, digging my fingers into my scalp. “But I couldn’t take it anymore. I love her. I’m in love with her. The idea of never being with her made me sick.” Unable to stand still, I pace in a short circuit of a few steps in either direction. “So I damned the consequences and chose my selfish desires over logic.”

“Dude, you’re thinking about this way too hard,” he replies with a shake of his head. “You’re dating, not getting married. Maybe wait on having the existential crisis until after your first date.”

“How are you so okay with all of this?” I ask, feeling helpless under the weight of everything that could go wrong. “How does it not bother you seeing Callie with other guys?”

“Easy.” He holds up a single finger. “One, it’s super hot to see her get turned on regardless of who’s making it happen.” Up goes another finger. “Two, it takes the pressure off me to try to fulfill all her needs. Honestly, it would be a fucking disaster if I tried. And three…” Dropping his hand, he clears his throat and looks at me with surprising seriousness. “She won’t be alone when I’m gone.”

I don’t ask him to clarify if he means leaving to fight demons or death, because for him, it might be too close to make a distinction. Instead, I confess one of my greater fears. “What if she decides that she prefers the rest of you over me?”

Sighing like this conversation physically pains him, he grips my shoulder and gives me a hard shake. “You’re being an idiot. It’s not a fucking competition. Literally the whole point of poly is not choosing. How she feels about the rest of us doesn’t change how she feels about you. Your relationship will sink or swim because of what’s between you two, so step up and don’t be a fucking dumbass, and you’ll be fine.”

Staring at him like I’ve never seen him before, I ask, “Did you just give me good, considerate advice?”

“Fuck off,” he grumbles, stomping toward the front of the house. “I don’t know why I help any of you.”

As much as I hate to admit it, Donovan is right. It’s not a competition with the others, it’s a battle within myself. Taking one final look toward Callie’s balcony, I reach for the feelings of love and determination that brought me here. If I want this to work between us, then I need to let the walls down. I need to be brave.