Bone Dry: A Soul Shamans Novel (Volume 1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

thrumming of her heartbeat. I let out a sigh of relief and a whisper of prayer to whatever was out there watching over us. She might be in bad shape, but she was alive.
    “Is it gone?” she whispered.
    “Yeah, I just need to do a protection spell for your room, and you’ll be all set.”
    “Thank you, Holly,” she said in a raspy voice.
    I felt a twinge of guilt. I’d been ready to con her, and she was thanking me for almost getting her killed.
    “Tell me how you feel,” I said, going into the doctor mode I’d perfected in the last year.
    She let out a light sigh and squinted her eyes. “Super tired. Weak. A little freaked out, but I’m also really relieved.”
    “Do you feel bad anywhere?” I asked. “Does anything hurt?”
    “No,” Kylie said, frowning. “Can a ghost hurt me?”
    I chose not to answer that. Sounded like she’d forgotten what I’d told her, and that was fine with me. I shouldn’t have even tried to explain. It had only scared her, and it was best she didn’t go blabbing that information around school. Word spreads fast in a small town.
    Kylie’s eyes fell shut, and I hated to bother her. “Kylie.”
    “Hmm?” she asked, eyes still closed.
    “I’m going to cast a protection spell.” I grabbed a soft blanket from the end of her bed and draped it over her. “And then I’m going to make you some tea that will…make you feel better.”
    “Hmm,” she said, snuggling under the blanket.
    I could tell trying to carry on a conversation with Kylie would be pointless.
    Protection spells were the very first shaman magic my mom had taught me. They were the easiest to cast. And the weirdest, at least to me. Leaving Kylie, I scooped my supplies into my backpack and grabbed a ziplock bag of small chicken bones. I unzipped the bag, pulled out four bones, and then put the rest back into my backpack.
    I glanced over at Kylie, who was now sound asleep, her chest rising and falling, a peaceful expression softening her features. She looked like an overgrown kid. Innocent and worry-free with no problems at all. And for a moment, I was jealous of her. But then I remembered every lifestyle had problems outsiders can’t even imagine. All her fluffy pillows, the private beach and the sporty car came with a price. Just because I didn’t see it right away didn’t mean it wasn’t there.
    One of those prices, apparently, was being targeted for a spirit attack. I’d been wracking my brain for an explanation. Maybe some had shaman decided to target Kylie in hope of getting ransom money to make it go away, even though she’d mentioned nothing about a note or a threat. After I finished in her room, I needed to take a look around to make sure no other bedrooms had a rune carved into the floor.
    I turned my attention back to the bones and looked down at the dried blood on my fingers. I was starting to realize why my mom used to carry around a vial of her own blood—as gross as that sounded—at all times. Pricking myself for the third time in one day almost sounded less enjoyable than banishing that spirit.
    Almost.
    Once I’d drawn more blood, I let each bone get a drop from my skin. Then, I began my low mumbling song, fingers curled around a necklace of deep blue beads Mom had picked up in Alaska. This spell was the only one that didn’t need a rune, a candle or any other supplies. Mom said bone magic was the strongest kind and created something so powerful it didn’t need any rituals. It only needed bones, blood and the ability to ignore how disgustingly creepy it was.
    As I sang my shaman song, I held the bones together in one hand and shook them like they were a maraca. I slowly stepped up to each corner, grabbed a bone with my other hand and threw it into the corner where it fell with a light clink.
    After I’d done four corners, I grabbed the tea packets from my bag and found my way back down the stairs, rolling my shoulders and taking several deep breaths. I hadn’t used my magic so much