Sisters of Salt and Iron (The Sisters of Blood and Spirit, #2)

I took a deep breath and slowly let it out through my mouth. Centering, it was called. I called it “okay, let’s do this.”


“Close your eyes,” I instructed. “Clear your minds as much as possible. Let go of negative thoughts—and I mean it, because they will seriously mess this up.” I heard a chuckle—I think it was Gage.

Two more breaths. “There’s a light in the darkness. Just a tiny speck of light. Concentrate on that.” Another two breaths. Behind the darkness of my eyelids there was a light, and I recognized it as Wren’s. That poisonous green flickered within it, but she was still her—for now.

“Maureen McCrae,” I said, opening myself up to all those tiny lights in the dark, “we summon you. We mean you no harm. Come to us.” A second light appeared, growing closer, brighter. It hadn’t worked like this when we’d summoned Bent, but then, he’d been hostile, and we hadn’t had the spirit board.

A warm breeze lifted my hair. I didn’t know where it came from, but it felt nice. “Please,” I whispered.

Slowly, my head tilted back. Invisible fingers combed through my hair, pulling it free of the messy bun I’d twisted it into. I could hear music—guitar, heavy and melodic. A guy was singing in a rough and raspy voice, and all around me people screamed in unrestrained joy. The light was so bright now, it took up my entire lid. Someone jostled me.

I opened my eyes.

What the hell?

I wasn’t in the dining room. I wasn’t even in the house. I was in a theater, or an auditorium. I was standing in a crowd so tight I could barely breathe. There was a barricade in front of me; the people behind me pushed me into it as they fought to get closer to the stage. Hands reached out around me, above me—like leafless branches straining for the sun.

And there, on the stage above me, haloed by the glaring stage lights, was the most incredible thing I’d ever seen. He was tall and lean, wearing torn jeans and an old Led Zeppelin T-shirt. His dark hair hung over his shoulders, and he had a tattoo of angel wings on his biceps. His face shone with sweat, but he was smiling, and when he growled into the microphone—something about being young and naked in the backseat of her daddy’s car—I felt the energy of the crowd ripple through me. It picked me up like a push from a giant hand, carrying me over the barricade, right up to the stage itself, until I stood directly in front of him.

Joe Hard looked at me, and his eyes went wide. “J.B.? What are you doing here?”

“I don’t know,” I replied. “I summoned someone else.”

“Me,” came a voice from behind me. I turned. Standing there was a young woman with pale skin, dark hair and familiar blue eyes. She was beautiful.

“Maureen.”

She nodded and looked past me to Joe. “I’m sorry to have pulled you into this, but you were the closest spirit I could find to this girl that wouldn’t alert my brother. I needed someone to hide behind, you see.”

“Interference,” I murmured.

“Exactly,” she said, smile fading. “Noah knows my energy. He has some of it in him, and I have his. He’d know if I came here without the help of someone else.”

“How can he have your energy if you moved on before he died?”

Now she just looked sad. “He summoned me. Merged with me.” She looked away. “His love for me wasn’t...normal.”

I did not want to know. I held out my hand to her. Her fingers were cold. When she pointed at Joe, I held out my hand to him, as well.

He took it. And the world dropped out from beneath us so fast and hard my head swam. I opened my eyes and found myself standing near the table, holding hands with both Joe and Maureen. My friends stared at us.

“Oh, my God,” Roxi whispered. She could see them, of course. Kevin and Maureen couldn’t seem to take their eyes off each other. The resemblance was obvious.

Then Gage did something that made me blink. He reached out and poked Joe in the thigh.

“Touching’s gonna cost extra, Emilio,” Joe informed him with a grin.

“He’s solid,” Gage whispered, eyes like saucers. Then to Joe, “Dude, you’re real. Who’s Emilio?”

“Estevez,” I answered. “He was popular in the ’80s.”

“He’s not anymore?” Joe looked genuinely upset. “Damn, he was Billy the Kid, man. Why are you looking so freaked out, J.B.?”

My mouth opened. Words, that’s what I wanted. Right, words. I looked at him, then Maureen. “How are you corporeal?”

He shrugged. “It is pretty close to All Hallows’ Eve. Things get pretty funky around then—and around May Day.”

“But I’ve never summoned anyone who was even remotely tangible before.”

He smiled at me—a nice smile. “You didn’t summon me, sweetness. You came into the Shadow Lands and brought me back with you. Her, too.” He slapped his hand on his denim-clad thighs. “Feels weird to be in the world again.”

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