Contents
Title
Copyright
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Earthbound Bones
ReGina Welling
COPYRIGHT NOTICE
© 2016 ReGina Welling.
All Rights Reserved, worldwide.
No part of this book or any of its contents may be reproduced, copied, modified or adapted, without the prior written consent of the author, unless otherwise indicated for stand-alone materials.
Thirty Years Ago
One hand on the wheel, the other clutching an ice cold beer, condensation slick on the can—he raised a toast to the three jerks who ruined the last fishing trip they’d ever take together. The half hour between sunset and night dropped the flat light of dusk over the hood of the car he’d cobbled together from junkyard rejects. All she needed was a coat of paint.
The sharp smell of yeast and hops hit his nose mere seconds before he noticed the damp spreading over his crotch. Much, much later he would swear he only took his eyes off the road for half a second to tend to his beer-soaked Levis.
Four teenagers dodging school for one last fishing trip on the lake, a campfire, and a case of Pabst Blue Ribbon. Those were the parts of that day he preferred to remember.
Not the trees coming at him when he looked up. Not the desperate wrench of the wheel to get back in his own lane. Not the sickening thud, the crunch, or the heart-stopping panic taking him from totally buzzed to completely sober. Not the round white face, the fear-filled eyes, or the bright smear of blood. Not coming home muddy and tired. Those memories he did his best to shove into the darkest recesses of his mind, where the light of memory would have to strain to find them.
The past was the past. Everything and everyone in it needed to stay buried. He would make sure it did. No matter what. He couldn’t handle what would happen if it didn’t.
Galmadriel
Angels never sleep—which is why waking up disoriented and draped over a pile of bodies meant something had gone terribly, terribly wrong.
Light pounded through my slitted eye, forcing me to close it until my brain could adjust to the onslaught.
Somewhere nearby, a clock ticked away endless seconds while I tried to remember who I was, where I was, and what had happened to me. The buzzing mist in my head amplified the noise from a soft click to an echoing boom. I counted ten, then fifteen seconds before the first memory came rushing back.
My name is Galmadriel. I am—or at least I was—a guardian angel. As if unlocking a door, that knowledge unleashed a literal eternity of memories: watching over my charges; crying for them when they needed to walk through the dark in order to find the light; feeling gutted for those who refused my help, and then devastated for the one I had failed.
Once the memories came back, my mind wouldn’t stop replaying them. The whirling circle closing in around us. The scream ripped from the hell-bound Earthwalker. The mortals who, without hesitation, risked all. The backlash that dragged Kat’s soul away before her time, and the desperate race to get it back. The final moment when I had either been thrown out of Heaven or fallen from grace. It had happened so quickly I couldn’t tell exactly which. Not that it mattered, the end result was the same.
Breaking rules—even for the best of reasons—might have cost me everything: my home; my status as a guardian angel; even my immortality. All of it gone; given up to save two humans from my own folly.
The mortals. I needed to get up and check on them.
Adrenaline coursed through my veins with a jolt that forced my aching body into a sitting position. A soft whine sounded from somewhere behind me, but I dared not turn my head when even the slightest movement spun the world and made me wobble.
Another whine accompanied a flutter of motion while I waited, first for the whirling to stop, and then for my eyes to clear. I turned my head to meet Lola’s liquid brown gaze. What was it about boxer dogs that made them look sad even when their tails were wagging? Before I could turn my head again, she treated me to a swipe of her tongue, and while it was softer and warmer than I would have expected, the experience was not one I wanted to repeat.
I blinked away the last of the fog to bring the sprawl of bodies into sharp focus. A gusting sigh escaped my lips at the sight before me. All eight of the humans breathed rhythmically. They lived. Relief ebbed the adrenaline like a calming balm over a bee sting. Three deep breaths saw it leaving my system, and my thrumming heart began to slow.
In a moment, they would start to stir. There would be questions I didn’t want to answer—probably couldn’t answer, come to that. We had banished an Earthwalker—a malevolent spirit—from a man possessed. A victory to be sure. One worth celebrating if not for what happened next. My hubris allowed Kat’s spirit to cross over while her body still lived. To get her back I broke a cardinal rule by sending Zack across to retrieve her.
Amethyst, the aura reader, led the rest of the humans in anchoring the living side, while the two ghosts helped me sustain the connection to spirit. Holding the bridge in place had proved too much for us and when it let go, I went along with it. Dragged or tossed out of heaven and into this mortal body. All I remembered was the endless sensation of falling.
These were good, caring people. All eight of them with an endless capacity for love. Still, feeling unable to cope with their sympathy, I sneaked out of the house with my head held low to avoid the possibility of seeing my altered shadow. If there was one thing I was still
