Pathway to Spirit: Gillian Boone, #2

By Stuart Jaffe

After defeating an army of Callers, Gillian Boone wants nothing more than to return to the life of a normal teenager. But when her new boyfriend is abducted by something even worse than a Caller -- a Proxy of Spirit -- she has no choice but to jump back into the crazed world of the Marked, the Bound, and Spirit. Now, the race is on to get her boyfriend back and in one piece. With the help of Pops and some new allies, Gillian has a good chance to succeed. But then, she's also got Jackhammer Jack on her side -- at least, she hopes he's on her side.

Fast-paced and action-packed, Pathway to Spirit is everything you've come to expect from the chaotic life of Gillian Boone.
 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stuart Jaffe
• Release date: May 28, 2014
• ISBN: 9781498945738

Book preview

Chapter 1

School Dazed

Though Gillian Boone knew that nobody paid her any attention as she walked into her high school cafeteria, she felt as if every eye watched closely, looking for her to crack, to prove that she was what they had feared. She waited for the moment that they would awaken from their stupor, point at her, and yell, You! You’re the one that went psycho last year! You’re the nutball destroyed her own house! You’re the lunatic responsible for every weird happening around this town! You don’t belong here! She waited for that moment, but it never came.

Standing in line with her little, plastic tray sectioned off to keep her food separated, she wondered if she could do the same. Put the different parts of her, the unusual parts of her, in a segregated part of her brain, and simply live as a normal teenager. Pops certainly had thought so.

But after all the crap that had gone down the year before with Callers and being Marked and being Bound and dying and Jackhammer Jack, she simply wanted to disappear from town. They had lost their house when the Callers attacked. Why not get a little place in a new town, change their names, and start over? Then she could be normal.

Nope. Pops rented an apartment five blocks over from the lot where their old house had been razed, and he insisted she attend the same school as before. Your life as a Bound girl is something of your past, he had said. The Callers only want you at your purest, most innocent self that they can handle. If they didn’t get harmed by touching a baby’s soul, they’d be out hunting babies. As it is, sixteen-year-olds are the closest they can get to. But you’re seventeen now.

One year couldn’t make too much of difference, but she wouldn’t say that. And though Pops would never admit to it, Gillian knew the real reason they had remained in the area — they couldn’t afford to move. Not when the Callers had destroyed everything they had owned.

Pops held Gillian’s shoulders in his oversized, meaty hands. And you’ve got a boyfriend. You’ve survived, honey. It won’t be as hard from now on.

A boyfriend — Cal Sutton.

He was the only part that kept her going. If not for him, for the normalcy he brought to her mind each day, she would sit in class and think of nothing but what had happened to her when she had died last year. The way she lifted from her body. The way she saw her soul made of the ribbons of the Marked. And how she saw Spirit’s eye — a massive thing staring into her, ripping through her layer by layer, until all that remained was the emptiness inside her.

Hey, Sleepyhead, Cal said as he slid up next to her in line. He had started calling her Sleepyhead because she spent so much time zoned out.

She tossed her hair back and forced a smile from her lips. By all the standards girls measured a boy, Cal was cute — blond hair, chiseled face, strong lips. At least, those were the standards as far as Gillian could tell from the magazines she read. Her heart should have been the one informing her, but since last year, she had found it hard to feel much of anything.

Did you hear about Mr. Dietz? Cal went on as they sat at one of the round tables with plastic chairs. Apparently, he got caught selling grades to students. Like one hundred dollars got you an A, and seventy-five got a B. He even sold Cs to the chronic idiots.

As Cal rambled on, Gillian poked at her rubbery hamburger bun with a plastic fork. She didn’t want to have to compartmentalize. She didn’t want to have to hide so much about her from the guy she supposedly had fallen for. But she couldn’t tell him either.

If she told Cal the real reason she wore bracelets made of bone — baby bones, at that — or had a dented whistle on a silver chain around her neck or carried a special dagger of bone — the Sever Knife — in her backpack, he would never accept her. How could he?

She had tried to explain it all to her best friend, Pam. That ended a friendship that traced back to elementary school. Only Cal remained in her life.

Cal snapped his fingers in front of her nose. Hello?

I’m sorry, Gillian said, not looking up from her burger.

What’s got you today? I mean, I’m kind of used to you being a bit distant, but you seem really off today. Anything you want to talk about? I know you don’t believe me, but you can tell me anything. I can handle it, whatever it is.

I’m sure you can. But if I tell you, then where will be all the mystery? Isn’t that supposed to be a big part of the fun of a relationship?

I’m sure we’d manage.

Gillian glanced around the large room. All the cliques had their specific tables — the jocks, the cheerleaders, the geeks, the goths. Every group had its place. Except for her. If not for Cal, Gillian knew she would be sitting alone.

Though nobody looked her way, she could feel their eyes upon her. Always watching. Always judging.

You’ve got to understand, she said, placing her trembling hand atop his, I’m not holding back to hurt you. I’m doing it to protect us.

I don’t need protecting. I’m a big boy.

Look around us. You know what they all say about me.

I’m not them.

I know. And I’m grateful for that.

Then don’t shut me out.

Gillian patted his hand twice before pulling it away. I just want to be normal, she whispered.

What?

Nothing. She picked up her burger and forced herself to take a bite.

Cal stared at her for a moment, and she knew in her bones that he would break up with her. He had been new to the school when he met her. That’s the only reason he had asked her out the first time — he didn’t know any better. And once the other kids had informed him, he didn’t want to run off like a jerk. Now he was trapped in this relationship, unwilling to break her heart because she wasn’t popular but looking for an out. That had to be what went on in his head.

Cal got up, leaned in close to her ear, and she cringed. I’ve got to go, he said. Promise me something.

Promise you what?

Let me take you out on a date tonight.

I don’t know if Pops will let me go out on a Tuesday.

Promise me.

She nodded. He kissed her on the cheek and left.

Gillian tried to swallow down another bite of her burger, but she couldn’t manage it. Prisons probably served better. After dumping the rest in the trash, she headed toward the gym for her next class. What idiot would put a gym class after lunch? She didn’t know, but she hated that fool. Running around on a full stomach was bad enough. With the horrible food, she often ended up running around on an empty stomach, which always felt worse.

As she walked down a corridor with gray lockers on one side and football trophies behind glass on the other, she heard a voice she had hoped to avoid all day. In fact, she hoped every day to never hear that voice again — Marcy Thompson.

How disgustingly sweet. Marcy approached, clutching her pencil like a dagger. She was the Queen Bee of the school and a nasty one at that. Always dressed rich and fashionably, she ruled through a wicked tongue and a cruel sense of humor. Following a few paces behind, three of her sycophants giggled. Brit, Jenna, and —

Pam?

Marcy stepped between them. What’s the matter, Psycho? You lose something? Brit and Jenna opened their mouths in mock surprise. Pam had the decency to look embarrassed, but that didn’t stop her from dressing like the others or popping her chewing gum like the others. Say, Psycho, maybe you can help us out. I think that the reason a cutie like Cal Sutton is with you is because you’re bribing him. Putting on a show. But Brit thinks you’ll do all the dirty things us good girls won’t do. Sort of an act of desperation on your part. So which is it? Are you a fraud or a whore?

Gillian lowered her head and stared like an animal ready to attack. She had started doing this to play up her reputation as unstable, hoping to dissuade conflicts from escalating. But lately, whenever Marcy preyed on her, Gillian felt the urge to really let go. To open her mind to the power she held, to reach out to the souls of all the Marked, to see their colorful ribbons, pull them in, and use their energy to rip Marcy to pieces.

But she held back.

Partly because she had no desire to go to jail for murder. Mostly because she wanted to believe Pops. If he was right, if by turning seventeen she had become a less desirable target to Spirit, then she didn’t want to show any sign of strength to the Callers — Spirit’s assassins. They would see her use of her powers like a lighthouse cutting through the fog.

No. She couldn’t do that. She couldn’t do anything that touched upon the special aspects of her life. Not if she wanted to distance herself from that world, to go unnoticed. Not if she wanted to be normal.

You even in there? Marcy said, her incredulous expression garnering more laughter from her toadies. Really, Pam, how could you ever stand being friends with this worthless trash?

She wasn’t always like this, Pam said, a tinge of sadness in her voice.

She certainly was. You just didn’t know it. Good thing you woke up. You’re turning into a good part of our team. Marcy always referred to her clique as a team. Gillian despised that. While crossing her arms, Marcy thrust her hip to the side. What are we going to do with you, Psycho? Huh? Why don’t you just go kill yourself and make our lives better? The school would be so much happier if you were dead.

Gillian couldn’t hold back a chuckle.

You laughing at me? Marcy’s hand moved fast and slapped Gillian in the face. Think I’m funny now? She hit Gillian again.

Gillian’s fingers curled into fists, but she managed to stop from going any further. Keep control. That was the important thing. People like Marcy picked on other people. That was normal. Better than fighting against Callers.

No more chuckles, Psycho? Marcy slapped the top of Gillian’s head. I swear, you’re the dumbest bitch I’ve ever met.

With a short turn of her head, Brit and Jenna moved in. Jenna punched Gillian in the ribs. As Gillian fell over, Brit followed up with a kick in the thigh. They became hyenas taking down an injured wildebeest.

Gillian would have accepted it all. Kept her head tucked, and received the blows as the cost of maintaining her secrecy. Except she heard something that unleashed her rage — it was a half-hearted sound, an unsure sound, but Pam’s voice nonetheless. Yeah, dummy, she said, and Gillian felt a soft kick to the back.

Gillian jumped to her feet and decked Brit in the jaw. The surprise startled all the girls, and Gillian took full advantage. She opened her mind to the Marked, grabbed the nearest two ribbons — one velvet red, the other deep green — and inhaled their energy through her mouth. With the boost from the Marked, she moved faster than she could ever do alone.

Jenna’s brow lowered in confusion as Gillian swiped out her legs. Before she hit the floor, Gillian spun in front of Pam and kneed her in the gut. As she toppled over, Gillian slipped behind Marcy and shoved her into the wall. Two hard punches to the side, and Marcy dribbled to the floor.

Gillian stood over the groaning bullies, panting as she tried to let go of the ribbons. It felt so good to have them connected to her once more. It had been too long. But this was too dangerous. Not just because of the Callers, but because she could easily slice Marcy to pieces.

Go, she whispered — and whether she meant it to her ribbons or Marcy, she didn’t know. But the green ribbon cut loose and fluttered away.

Oh my lord, a girl said from behind.

Gillian whirled around. She saw a short Korean girl, lightweight with jet black hair and eyes to match. Stretching from Gillian’s mouth to the girl’s chest was the velvet red ribbon.

You’re her, the girl said. You’re the Bound one.

Chapter 2

Troubled Date

As the school bell rang for the start of fourth period, Gillian stomped toward the parking lot and her car. The black-haired girl followed.

Where are you going? the girl asked, a nervous tingle to her voice. Why did you let those bitches go so far? What are you even doing here? Shouldn’t you be out stopping Spirit or something?

Gillian halted. You got a name?

I’m Ruby Kim. You’re Gillian, right?

Ruby, get the hell away from me.

What?

I’m not whatever you think I am. So leave me alone.

But you’re the Bound.

Gillian pressed on towards her car — a used, blue, Hyundai hatchback, rust along the bottom and more personality than she cared for. The old lady. When she yanked open the driver’s side door, it squealed and clicked. Ruby, you don’t know what you’re —

I’m Marked. I know. Every Marked soul within a hundred miles of you knows. You think we’d just forget that in the middle of the night last year, you pulled on all of our souls? That you used that power to decimate an actual Caller army? I know exactly who you are. I just don’t know why you’re hiding here.

And you don’t need to know. Gillian sat and turned on her car. Thankfully, the old lady caught on the first try. If you really do know so much, then know that you should keep your mouth shut about this. I don’t need any other Marked bothering me.

As she pulled away, Gillian tried to keep her eyes looking ahead. However, right before she turned onto the main road, she glanced in the rearview mirror. Ruby stood in the parking lot, staring at her,