Souls Unchained (Blood & Bone Book 2) Read online

  by

  C.C. Wood

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  Copyright Crystal W. Wilson 2017

  Kindle Edition

  Cover by

  Jena Brignola, Bibliophile Productions

  Editing by

  Tania Marinaro, Libros Evolution

  Interior by

  Paul Salvette, BB eBooks

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Author’s Note

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Epilogue

  Contact C.C.

  About C.C.

  Titles by C.C. Wood

  To Michelle L.

  Thank you for showing me around Austin and helping me figure out where Savannah and Rhys would probably live. It was the most fun I’ve ever had doing research!

  Author’s Note

  Hi, Reader! First of all, thank you so much for picking up this copy of Souls Unchained. It means so much to me that you take the time to read my books, especially with so many other wonderful authors out there. When you’re done, please consider leaving a review. Or, if you loved it, share it far and wide!

  Now, on to the real reason for this author’s note. When I wrote Bite the Bullet (Bitten, #5), fans loved Rhys. They wondered if he was good or bad or if he would betray the five friends. I wasn’t surprised because I loved him too. Who wouldn’t adore a brooding, tortured soul like Rhys?

  As I pondered his story, I realized he would need someone gentle but strong enough to relate to him. Someone who had suffered in a similar way. That’s when I met Savannah. Yes, I say ‘met’ because the characters I write about feel real to me. Sometimes I have entire conversations with them in my head. Maybe that makes me weird, but it’s part of how I write.

  Savannah and Rhys wanted the same thing out of their lives—love. They wanted to be loved for who they were and to know that someone would be there for them, no matter what. They both deserved to get what they wanted.

  When you finish this book, if you want a hint of what’s to come next, check out my novella, Destined by Blood. There are two characters in the story that you might recognize…and it will tide you over until the final book in the Blood & Bone series is released this fall!

  Chapter One

  Rhys

  This day wasn’t going as planned.

  Tucking my hands in my pockets, I hunched my shoulders against the light rain that fell from the dull grey sky. After driving around with a realtor for the last three hours, I wasn’t sure what I was going to do.

  When I arrived in Austin months ago, I decided that I wanted to settle here. At least for a while. It would be the first time I had a home in centuries.

  Places have a soul, just like people, and I felt a kinship with the spirit of this city.

  I found a small rental home that suited me perfectly, but the landlord had recently given me notice that he needed the property back for his daughter who had just gotten married and was expecting his first grandchild. I couldn’t blame him for wanting his family close. To help with my search for a new house, I contacted the real estate office I’d used previously. Although the agent I had worked with was no longer there, they assigned me a new one.

  Unfortunately, the realtor didn’t understand what I was looking for. My budget might be generous, but I had a vision of the home I wanted to live in and she couldn’t seem to grasp that. Each house she showed me was larger than the one before. The last monstrosity she took me to was more of a palace than a home.

  This was my second outing with the realtor and the time I’d wasted convinced me that she wasn’t the right person to help me find what I was looking for. I was also beginning to wonder if perhaps this was a sign I should move on.

  My chest tightened at the thought. I didn’t want to move on. I liked it here. I felt more peace in the last few months than I had in hundreds of years. But fate was fickle and I’d learned the hard way not to ignore the small hints that the universe threw out.

  The skies opened up and the light drizzle became a deluge. I dashed under an awning to escape the rain and noticed that I was standing in front of a coffee house. I smiled when I read the words on the window. The Magic Bean. The name was interesting and piqued my curiosity as to what might be inside. Suddenly, I was inundated with the desire for a cup of something hot. Opening the door, I stepped inside and found myself surrounded with warmth.

  As I said before, places have a soul and the soul here was pure comfort. A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth and I moved deeper into the shop. The floors were dark wood and the walls were painted warm beige. The overall impression it created was cozy and calming. Small round tables stood toward the front of the store and an old wooden bar was fixed in the back left corner, polished to a bright sheen.

  The smell of coffee and baked goods lingered in the air, but I could detect the underlying scent of oranges. My mouth watered as I walked toward the counter.

  A blonde woman smiled at me from behind the bar, wiping her hands on a pristine white towel.

  “Good morning,” she greeted. “What can I get for you?”

  I looked at the board on the wall behind her, studying the menu written in chalk. I didn’t understand half of what was written there. Though I drank coffee, all the flavors and froth just confused me.

  Before I could answer her question, she spoke again, “Would you trust me to choose something for you?” she asked.

  Her words caught my attention. She was asking for my trust, something I didn’t give easily. My gaze focused on her and I truly saw her for the first time. Her physical appearance was attractive, if relatively normal. She had long blonde hair and odd purple eyes that were an unsettling mixture of lavender and indigo. Then my sight went deeper. I realized that the homey feeling of the coffee shop reflected her. She was warmth and grace personified. Even from several feet away, I could feel the calming effects of her spirit.

  The ability to see into the heart of a person was a by-product of all the things my maker had done to me. In moments like this, it came in handy. I might feed from the souls of others, but my predatory instincts knew who was trustworthy.

  This woman was good to her core. Still, as I looked closer, there was a shadow around her, as though she were bound by something. Or someone.

  “That sounds fine,” I finally answered.<
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  Her smile widened and I wondered if she knew how deeply I could read her. The thought was unsettling. Anonymity and ignorance were my only shields against enemies, known and unknown. She rang up my purchase, pausing to ask, “Would you like something to eat as well?”

  I glanced into the glass case that sat atop the counter to my left and saw an assortment of pastries and other baked goods. To my right were three domed cake stands that held a cake and two variations of pie. That explained the smell that was making my mouth water.

  “You choose,” I told her, watching her closely.

  Genuine delight radiated from the woman as she punched more buttons on the tablet in front of her. “That will be seven dollars and fifty cents.”

  I fished my wallet out of my pocket and paid in cash, taking a moment to drop a couple of dollars into the ornate jar next to the register.

  “Thanks,” she said, clearly pleased with the tip. “Just grab a seat and I’ll be with you in a moment.”

  I turned and realized that all the tables were surprisingly empty. It was rainy and cooler today than it had been during the weeks since I first arrived. The perfect day to linger in a shop over a steaming mug of coffee or tea and a book. Yet there was no one here.

  Still, I was grateful for the solitude. Too much time around people made me twitchy. I’d spent centuries looking over my shoulder, always on edge around strangers. I never knew when a threat would make itself known. As a result, I tended to avoid places where people would congregate.

  It wasn’t until I settled into one of the booths that I realized that the other half of the shop held merchandise. There were two large circular tables near the front of the space that were littered with hunks of crystals and rocks, jewelry, and odds and ends. Shelves holding books and candles ran along the walls and jutted out into the center of the store. There was a small niche at the rear, opposite the coffee bar. Instead of a door, the little room was separated from the rest of the floor by heavy velvet curtains in dark green. The curtains were drawn back to reveal an antique round table of dark wood with a matching chair on each side.

  I wasn’t sure what purpose the room served, but I could feel the faint pulse of magic emanating from it. Now that I was seated and attuned to the store, I realized that magic was woven into the very building that surrounded me. It was so subtle that I hadn’t noticed it when I first walked in, but I suddenly sensed it clearly.

  When the woman from the counter walked up to the table, holding a large mug and saucer and a plate with two pastries stacked on it, I studied her. It was as if a veil had been lifted and I could see the power that emanated from her. It twisted and writhed beneath the shadow that shrouded her, as though it yearned to be free.

  She was a witch.

  In my extremely long life, I’d never liked witches. Considering a warlock had made me what I am, my experience with them hadn’t been the best up until I met one in Dallas who was truly a white witch. It didn’t change my opinion of them as a whole, but it did force me to consider that there were others that were also kind.

  The blonde witch standing before me was compassionate and welcoming. Though she would probably deny it, she was also strong. Strong enough to fight any battles that came her way, which made the shadow that surrounded her even more mysterious and interesting.

  She smiled a little as she set the drink and plate of food on the table in front of me. “Vanilla bourbon latte, a blueberry orange scone, and a chocolate oatmeal Scotchie.”

  I stared down into the drink, hesitant to try it. I rarely drank spirits, preferring to keep my wits about me. “It has bourbon in it?”

  “Just a flavored syrup, no alcohol,” she replied, her grin growing wider.

  Still unsure, I lifted the cup to my lips, inhaling the scent of coffee and vanilla with a whiff of something stronger. When I sipped, I couldn’t hide my surprise, my eyebrows lifting. “That’s delicious,” I complimented her.

  She laughed and sat down across from me. “Thank you.”

  Her behavior was not what I’d come to expect from employees at restaurants and coffee houses. But the shop was empty, so I couldn’t blame her for wanting to take a break.

  “That room,” I said, gesturing toward the curtained niche. “What is it for?”

  “It’s where Savannah or I do tarot card readings, palmistry, and other types of divination.”

  “Really?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  My eyes moved over the shelves of books and candles then to the tables at the front of the store that held crystals and amulets. “And you sell other magical aids and items.” It was a declaration not a question.

  “I do.” She held her hand out across the table. “I’m Ava Amaris.”

  “Hello, Ava. My name is Rhys Carey.”

  “Hi, Rhys. What brings you into my shop on this dreary day?” she asked.

  “This is your shop?” I responded, evading her curious gaze as I sipped the latte.

  Ava nodded, her purple eyes sparkling with mischief. “It is. But you still haven’t answered my question.”

  Since she wasn’t going to let it go, I answered, “I was in the area, looking at houses with a realtor.”

  “Oh, are you moving to Austin?”

  I hesitated. “You’re asking a lot of questions to a stranger,” I stated bluntly.

  She laughed. “I am, aren’t I? I’ve always been nosy.” Ava rested her elbows on the table and leaned forward. “But I don’t just own this store. I also own several homes that I rent out. I might be able to help you.”

  I picked up the cookie and took a bite as I considered her words. The flavors of chocolate and butterscotch exploded on my tongue. When my eyes widened in shock, she laughed again, the sound light and clear.

  “Did you make this?” I asked.

  “I did. I make all my baked goods.”

  “It’s amazing.”

  “Thank you,” she replied.

  As I chewed and swallowed the cookie, I made a decision. This witch had a bright light within her, a light of goodness and generosity. Plus she baked delicious cookies. “Do you have a house to rent now?”

  She beamed at me. “I do. It’s not large or fancy, but it is homey.”

  “I’d be interested in seeing it,” I said.

  “No problem. Let me get you the key. You’ll be able to walk there. It’s only two blocks away.”

  She disappeared into the rear of the shop for a few moments, returning with a silver key dangling from her fingertips. She hesitated as she held it out to me, murmuring a few quiet words over the key.

  “What was that?” I asked as I felt a small burst of magic from her.

  Ava grinned mischievously. “Just making sure that you can’t leave until you return my key.”

  “You aren’t coming?”

  Ava shook her head. “No. I can’t leave the shop.” Her head cocked. “I also think it’s best if you see the house by yourself.

  When my fingers closed around the key, my blood sang as power vibrated between us. I nearly dropped the ring, but managed to maintain my hold. I looked up and saw that Ava was watching me closely, as her eyes shifted from dark indigo to a lighter shade of violet. Her skin grew luminous, as though the shadow that surrounded her could no longer contain the glow of her power. It was as if the light within her soul was suddenly visible.

  “I’m glad your journey brought you here, Rhys.”

  I stared at her in confusion. As abruptly as it began, the swell of magic between us vanished. The glow of Ava’s skin faded and her eyes returned to the strange mix purple and blue they were before.

  “Now, let me write down the address and directions to the house and you can go take a look,” she stated, releasing the end of the key ring which made me jerk slightly. I hadn’t realized she was still holding it.

  As soon as I stopped in front of the address, I knew I’d found the place I was searching for. The house was small, blue, and trimmed in white, with a nearly non-existent yard.


  I moved up the front walk and climbed the steps to the covered porch. Fitting the key into the lock, I turned the knob and hesitated when I heard a light sigh. When I looked around, I was alone.

  Still unsure, I slowly pushed the door open, wondering if the house truly was empty. As I stepped over the threshold, I felt the pulse of power and realized that the sigh I’d heard was a spell. The magic faded as I walked deeper into the room, shutting the door behind me.

  I looked around at the living room, surprised to see it was furnished with a worn beige sofa and oversized armchair. A small kitchen stood to the left, the appliances old but well-maintained. The house smelled of lemons, as though it had just been cleaned. As though Ava expected me.

  Curious, I moved down the hall. On each side of the hallway, there was an open door. I glanced in each room and found them both empty. One was a bit larger than the other and I immediately decided that it would be my bedroom. Another door lay at the end of the hall and when I opened it, I found a tidy bathroom. The fixtures were newer than those in the kitchen and the tiles sparkled.

  The same warmth and generosity I felt from Ava radiated throughout the house. Just like her coffee shop, The Magic Bean.

  I decided then and there that this place would be my home. At least for the next few months. Something inside me shifted and settled, the constant tension in my muscles eased somewhat. I wasn’t completely relaxed, but it was enough.

  As I stepped out of the house and locked the door, the sun came out from behind the clouds, glinting off something across the street. My eyes caught on the yard opposite mine. A gnarled tree hid one side of the house, but I could clearly see that it looked like a small stone cottage, an odd addition to this neighborhood. The rest of the front yard was filled with flowers and plants, but in a wild explosion rather than an orderly fashion. The effect was chaotic but charming. Oddly, I almost expected to see fairies zipping around among the blossoms.

  Another flash of light caught my eye and I realized the sun was reflecting off a delicate set of metal wind chimes. Hanging motionless from the branch, they gleamed brightly in the rays. A larger set of wooden wind chimes dangled nearby as well, but neither of the chimes so much as swayed.