Page 24 of Soul Bound

Winnie?

I frown at the new nickname, but Winslow’s lips twitch slightly at it. “I just turned twenty-two not that long ago.”

“She was missing for two years then, before she had you…” Esme ponders aloud, taking in all the new puzzle pieces to her sister’s disappearance. “Where were you born?”

Winslow shrugs her narrow shoulders. “I have no idea, but I lived in Rhode Island until I was seventeen and then I was there again for a couple of months before I came out here. My parents never talked about my birth parents, I’m sorry I can’t be more help, but I don’t know a single thing about them. My mom didn’t want people knowing I was adopted. I heard from one of my nannies that she even faked a pregnancy so her socialite friends wouldn’t know she wasn’t my real mom.”

“Nannies? Socialites? Damn girl, who were your parents?” I raise a brow in question.

“Emily and Cyrus Montgomery. He’s a power-hungry businessman who’s currently running for governor of Rhode Island. She’s a trust fund baby turned evil-vapid-bitch with a pill problem. Together they make the worst parents that have ever lived,” she says, her voice bland of emotion as she speaks of them.

“Were they not nice to you?” Esme places a comforting hand on Winslow’s shoulder, her usually soft features turning dark at the prospect that her niece wasn’t treated the way she deserves.

Something flashes in her eyes, but she pushes it away just as quick. “They didn’t have much to do with me, I spent most of my days with my nannies and house staff. I never understood why they wanted to adopt a child when they wanted nothing to do with raising one. They especially didn’t want anything to do with me after the accident and when I started seeing ghosts.”

“You can see ghosts?” Esme’s face piques with interest.

“Oh shit, I guess we never actually got around to why we wanted to meet with you—got distracted with the whole family reunion thing.” I rub the back of my neck. “Our littleWinniehere can see and communicate with the dead. Before it didn’t make any sense, but now that we know more about her family tree, it’s finally coming together. She’s a witch.” I choke on a laugh. “Winnie the witch. Cute.” I smirk.

“I’m awhat?”

“Witch,” I repeat. “Don’t worry, I don’t think the pointy hat and flying on a broomstick thing are requirements anymore.” I look to Esme for confirmation, and she just rolls her eyes at me.

“Don’t listen to him.” Esme shoves at my shoulder. “Being a witch isn’t a bad thing. We also don’t do sacrifices when doing spells, so don’t worry about that.”

“Then what’s with the animal skulls on the wall downstairs?” Winslow raises a brow at her.

“I read tarot and do psychic readings for a living—a girl’s got to pay the bills, but the humans who come in are expecting a certainaestheticwhen they come to a psychic shop, most of it is real witch stuff. Imayhave gone a little over the top with the skulls and whatnot, but I like to see the look on their faces when they first come in. I have to get my amusement somewhere.” Esme smiles.

“Can you really read fortunes and shit like that?” Winslow asks, her voice still holds no skepticism.

Esme’s head bobs up in down in confirmation, “I have the gift of sight; it comes in many different forms. Some see bits and pieces of what’s to come as I do, others can hold an object and see its whole past, I knew someone a while back who could look at a person and see their whole life up to that point. And then there are some with the gift to see into the afterlife—likeyoucan. Just like Amara could.”

“Amara could see ghosts too?” Winslow almost sounds relieved, like a weight has been lifted from her shoulders knowing there was someone else out there that could see the things she can. “Could, she also… bring things back from the dead?”

Now it’s Esme’s turn to look surprised. “No, bringing things back from the dead is a very rare talent. And the spells that can do such a thing are dark magic and require a pretty hefty sacrifice.”

Winslow shakes her head. “Spell? I didn’t use a spell when I brought back Poe, I justtouchedhim.”

“Poe?” Esme asks.

“A raven,” I supply.

“You brought a bird back to life just by touching him? That’s incredible, but also on the verge of impossible. I haven’t heard of anyone being able to do such a thing for hundreds of years, not since the necromancers were around, but they’ve all since gone extinct.”

“Necromancers?” This piques my interest because I’ve never once heard about their existence. My mom was good about trying to keep all my siblings and I informed about all the different species that are out there, but she had never mentioned necromancers.

“They were dark practitioners who only used dark magic.” Esme shudders at the thought. “No one can use dark magic and get away unscathed. Each person a necromancer resurrects, they have to give a piece of their own soul to them—when they did that, they became permanently bound and connected to the person they brought back. An unbreakable connection was formed. The only problem was it takes a fairly large chunk of your soul to bring back a person. They can only do it a few times before their own souls are burned away. Without a soul, they turned into evil, psychopathic beings without their souls. Although, there was this rumor and God knows if it’s true, some necromancers could pull the soul from one person and put it into another, and they could revive them that way. There’s very little verified information about necromancers out there, a majority of what we know is purely speculation. No one knows what happened to their kind, but they all just disappeared centuries ago, without a trace.”

“They gave over a piece of their soul?” Winslow shifts nervously in her chair.

“You know the term life for a life?” Esme asks and we both nod at her. “It’s just like that. If you’re bringing a soul back from the dead, you need to replace the dead soul with a piece of a live one.”

“When I brought Poe back to life, I gave him a piece of my soul?” She starts to panic.

“No dear.” Esme grabs Winslow’s hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze. “We’ve already established necromancers have gone extinct and that you’re a witch. You can’t be a necromancer and a witch; species aren’t able to crossbreed—well, they didn’t used to be able to. As of three months ago they can again, but it’s safe to say you aren’t three months old, right?”

Three months ago, when Pruitt completed the mating ceremony with Ryker, the curse a witch cast a thousand years ago was broken. We are all now able to mate and have children with differing species.

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