Bone Cold: A Soul Shamans Novel (Volume 2) Read Online Free PDF

Anthony Lombardi with some shamans she’s decided to randomly team up with.”
    “You okay?”
    “Yeah. I mean, I guess I should have known this was coming. You know how Mom is.” My eyes drank in the photos plastered to the walls, snapshots of Mom from all around the world. Evidence of her adventurous life. “She never could sit still long enough to do more than make me my next batch of prepped food.”
    “Alright, I’m coming over,” Laura said. “We’ll have a movie day. Eat lots of popcorn. And cookies. She left some cookies, right?”
    “She left approximately a billion cookies. Plus, two books on shamanism.” My shoulders relaxed at the reminder of everything we could learn now. “That’s the plus of all this. We’ll finally get some info on our background.”
    “Oh, shit.”
    “What?” My spine morphed into a popsicle stick, and my heartbeat ramped up a notch. “What’s wrong now?”
    “Calm down. Nothing major. I just told that George girl I’d show her around Seaport today.” Laura cleared her throat. “She just seemed like she needed some friends around here, you know.”
    “Invite George. She seems cool. We’ll have pizza and cookies, and we’ll tackle the shaman history stuff tomorrow or something. Besides, didn’t she say she wanted a normal Seaport? What’s more normal than a daytime sleepover?”
    ***
    Laura showed up on my front stoop at noon wearing a fuzzy onesie dotted with tiny black cartoon skulls. Her nails were a new shimmery shade of gray, striped with red to match the strands in her hair. George stood just behind her in a much more normal ensemble of jeans and a tank top, a six-pack of beer tucked under one arm.
    “What in the name of sanity are you wearing?” I propped a hand on my hip and shook my head at my best friend. You could never be sure what kind of nonsense Laura would show up sporting.
    “We’re having a pizza movie marathon. I’m wearing a onesie.” Laura waltzed through the front door, kicking off her boots before disappearing into the living room. George popped her head inside and took a long gaze around the entryway.
    “Man, Seaport really isn’t all that different from Salem.”
    Sometimes I forgot how Mom’s decorations might look to an outsider with no knowledge of shamanism. Nathan had been pretty awed by it all at first, but he’d also known about spirits and magic by the time he’d stepped foot inside the house. The shaman drum was his favorite trinket, but what drew me the most was the wall of Chilean beads that whispered the sounds of the Andes Mountains.
    “You keep saying that.” I shut the door behind her and shrugged at the ceremonial masks lining the wall. “My mom likes quirky decorations.”
    “Trust me, no judgement here.” She fingered the cross necklace dangling to her chest. “When you grow up in the witch tourism capitol of the world, you get used to seeing weird shit everywhere you go.”
    Astral pranced into the hallway with his tail in the air. He took one look at George, sniffed, and turned up his nose. Meowing, he bounded down the hallway and into my room.
    “That’s Astral.” I frowned after him. “He can be a little funny sometimes.”
    “Astral? As in astral projection?” George asked. “Cool name for a cat.”
    For a moment, the world slowed. My eyes searched George’s face for a sign she knew exactly what she’d said. Most humans are aware of what astral projection is in theory, though they usually believe it’s just as real as blood-sucking vampires. George gave me an innocent smile, and my shoulders relaxed. I needed to stop with the overblown paranoia.
    We made our way into the living room where Laura had already dug out a pile of DVDs we hadn’t watched in years. I was in the mood for a familiar story-line, one I could recite by heart, one I knew the ending to. Nothing that would leave me guessing, muscles tense, body on the edge of my seat. Today, I craved the familiar and the known.
    We picked