“Did he serve in Afghanistan?”
“Yes. Just six months.”
“Wait a minute,” said Gabriel. “Someone knows what the secret tattoo says?”
Hunter gave him a look. “It’s not a secret. It’s on my arm.”
“Enough with the suspense already. What does it say?”
“Nothing important,” said Hunter.
The nurse smiled and released the pressure in the cuff. “It says, The first day you meet, you are friends. The next day, you are brothers.”
Gabriel lost the smile.
Then he clapped Hunter on the shoulder.
Hunter frowned at him. “What was that for?”
“Brotherhood,” he said. “Welcome to the family.”
CHAPTER 35
Hunter sat in the grass and closed his eyes. The sun was warmer here, the air more crisp, as if Kate’s body drew power to this spot even after her death. He could swear he smelled cinnamon and apples.
He touched his fingers to the grass and opened his eyes.
“I wish I could stare at you right now,” he said.
Air swirled through the small clearing, lifting dead leaves and rustling the foliage.
He’d thought coming here would give him some kind of closure. But instead he missed her more intently. Every brush of air, every scent of earth, every sound of water hitting the distant beach reminded him of their last night together.
“I’m going to stay with the Merricks for a while,” he said. “I’m still working some things out with my mom. I mean—Michael was right. She was wrong. But I was, too.”
This felt stupid, talking to grass.
But he swallowed and found he couldn’t stop. “I was wrong about my dad, too. I think—I think he would have liked you.”
His voice broke.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
The breeze kicked up fiercely, lifting his hair and drying the tears that swelled in his eyes. Then the air went calm, soothing against his skin.
And he felt her in that, too.
“I couldn’t kill him for you,” he said quietly, touching his fingers to the grass. “I failed again.”
A hand rested on his shoulder. “You didn’t fail,” said Michael.
Hunter didn’t say anything to that.
“You kept Silver from killing those kids.”
“I didn’t kill him. I should have killed him.”
“Vengeance isn’t a solution, Hunter. I think your dad knew that. And I think you know it, too.”
He was right. Hunter wasn’t ready to let go of the vengeance yet, but he was right.
Michael hesitated. “My dad used to say something that made me nuts. ‘If you can’t fix what went wrong—’ ”
“Then fix what you can make right.” Hunter looked up at him. “My dad used to say that, too.”
“Good advice.”
Hunter looked back at the ground. The air felt peaceful.
“Thanks,” he said to Michael. “For bringing me here.”
“You ready to go? Or do you want more time?”
Hunter touched the grass one last time. Then he stood. “I’m ready. Let’s go home.”
BEYOND THE STORY
Spirit Playlist
“Some Nights” by fun
Anytime I write a book, there’s a song that kind of kicks it off for me and gets me in the mood for that character. With Spirit, I didn’t have a song that was talking to me. I’d listen to old music, write a chapter, scratch my head and write a little more, but I just wasn’t feeling it. I asked for lots of song suggestions on Twitter, and while there were tons of great suggestions (many of which made it into this playlist), none of them really fit Hunter. Then I heard Some Nights by fun, and I knew I had Hunter’s theme song. Every word fits.
“Home” by Philip Phillips
So this was the first year I didn’t watch American Idol. (Brigid, meet deadline.) I didn’t know about Philip Phillips until everyone else already did. But the instant I heard this song, I knew it would be part of the playlist for Spirit. I had a discussion with Alicia (my amazing editor), during which I was discussing some plot choices, and I said, “This book isn’t about Hunter finding romance. It’s about Hunter finding himself.” Hunter just needed a little guidance to get there, and this song really reminds me of his relationship with Michael.
“50 Ways to Say Goodbye” by Train
This song is catchy and clever and dark and hilarious, and for some reason, it reminds me of Hunter’s relationship with Kate.
“Blow Me (One Last Kiss)” by Pink
Heh. I love this song. Pink is a total badass. Or as Kristin Feliz would say, a BAMF. Totally makes me think of Kate.
“The Fighter” by Gym Class Heroes, featuring Ryan Tedder
This is totally the perfect song for gearing yourself up for something difficult. Fits the book and totally fits my life. Love it.
“Cupid Shuffle” by Cupid
This song has nothing to do with the book. But for some reason, I downloaded it, and I couldn’t stop listening to it while writing Spirit. Look, they’re not all going to be cool songs, okay? (But come on. You want to do the dance now, don’t you? Down down, do your dance . . .)
“Give Your Heart a Break” by Demi Lovato
I just loved this song the first time I heard it. It’s so unusual to hear a song sung by a woman promising not to hurt a guy. It’s a ballad (sort of), and I loved the turnabout. Perfectly fit Hunter and Kate’s story.
“Don’t You Worry Child” by Swedish House Mafia
I didn’t hear this song until Spirit was in edits, but I found myself with a lot of necessary revisions, and this song totally fit the mood. Fast, driving beat, and absolutely perfect lyrics for Hunter.
“Shake It Out” by Florence + the Machine
Usually I listen to songs by Florence + the Machine and I have no idea what they’re about. I just listen and like them. This song is no different, but the song moves me and made me think about Kate differently, letting me soften her edges. So in that way, I’d say this is Kate’s song.
“My Oh My” by Tristan Prettyman
Oh, this song has Kate and Hunter written all over it. Kate knows who she is and what she wants, and then she meets Hunter, and ends up questioning everything she thought she knew. (And Tristan Prettyman has an awesome voice!)
Read on for a bonus novella in the Elemental series, Breathless.
CHAPTER 1
Nick Merrick sat on his bed and ran his thumb along the edge of the sealed envelope.
He didn’t want to open it.
He probably didn’t need to. It was thin, and thin letters from universities typically meant one thing: rejection.
It wasn’t his first-choice school anyway. He’d applied at University of Maryland because they had a solid physics program and it was an in-state school. If they rejected him, he didn’t really care.
Much.
He’d thought applying early at a few local schools would be a safe bet, just to get himself into the rhythm of it, seeing what kind of feedback he’d get.
Apparently it meant he’d get used to rejection right off the bat.
The worst part was the twinge of guilt in his stomach.
Not because he might have to go out of state.
The guilt was because he wanted to. Sort of.
A new town would mean anonymity. No one would know about his powers.
No one would know him as Gabriel Merrick’s twin brother, half of a unit.
A new town meant he could just be Nick.
Whatever that meant. Sometimes he worried that he’d get his wish, that he’d end up in some strange town, surrounded by new people, and he’d realize that there was nothing there, that his entire being was based on his brothers’ expectations of him.
Well, it wasn’t like he didn’t have options. A local school would have meant he could still stay home and help Michael with the business. If he couldn’t go to Maryland, he could go to the community colle
ge down the road. Nothing wrong with that.
Except . . . he didn’t want to go to the community college.
The colored balls in the Galileo thermometer on his desk started to shift, and Nick glanced up. He was changing the temperature. His blinds rattled against the window frame, too, as a gusty breeze tore through his room.
This was stupid. He should just open the envelope.
If only his powers gave him X-ray vision.
Not like he really needed it. He could imagine how the letter would begin.
Dear Nicholas, We regret to inform you that you’re a selfish bastard—
Yeah, right. Nick swore and shoved the letter between two textbooks on the desk. He could read it later.
Michael had asked him to reconcile a stack of invoices anyway. Better to let numbers steal his attention, especially since his oldest brother would be pissed if he got home and found a stack of paperwork still waiting for him.
The kitchen was empty, but he’d passed his youngest brother in the living room, along with his girlfriend. Chris and Becca were watching a movie, but from the glimpse Nick had gotten, there wasn’t a whole lot of watching going on. Not like Nick needed a glimpse: the air was more than happy to whisper about their activities.
Gabriel was out, doing something with Layne, and Michael would be on a job for another hour, at least.
Quiet.
Nick tore into a foil package of Pop-Tarts and fired up the laptop. With a toaster pastry between his teeth, he began to sort through the pile of carbon credit card slips, invoices, and canceled checks.
Michael was great about documenting what he was doing and how much it cost.
He wasn’t so great about making sure he was actually paid for it.
Nick had been doing most of the bookkeeping since he was thirteen. Now he could do it in his sleep.
His brain kept drifting to that letter, sandwiched between those textbooks on his desk.
At least he’d been the one to get the mail today, so no one else knew. God, that would have been a disaster. Hell, Gabriel probably would have put him in a headlock until he tore the envelope open.
Aw. Poor Nicky. They don’t want you.
Gabriel wouldn’t be upset. He didn’t want his twin to go.
That was another big part of the guilt.
He caught himself entering line items twice, and he pulled his hands off the keys to rub at his eyes. School was closed this week, thanks to the recent fire in the library, but he should probably be using the extra time to study. There was no money for college, so grades were everything right now.
His cell phone buzzed against the table, making him jump. The air had turned sharp and cold while he’d been going through these invoices, and he tried to make himself relax, knowing the air would do the same if he could mentally get himself to a better place.
He ran a thumb along the screen to wake it. A text message.
Quinn. His girlfriend.
Sort of.
Really, his relationship with Quinn was just one more thing that belonged on a list of all that made him feel insecure, uncertain, and guilty.
Any way you can pick me up at the Y?
Nick glanced at the clock. Gabriel had the car and Michael had the truck. Michael would be home first, but not for another twenty minutes. He typed back quickly.
Not for a while. You OK?
Fought with Mom again.
Nick winced. He texted back.
I can get you. 30 mins OK?
Sure. I’ll be in studio.
The studio was really just a room at the back of the Y, with half a mirrored wall and a barre bolted awkwardly into the patches of drywall. But Quinn’s parents wouldn’t pay for dance lessons, and Quinn had been kicked off the school dance team.
Unlike Nick, she knew exactly who, what, and where she wanted to be.
She just couldn’t get there.
He hadn’t met her parents yet, but apparently her mother had been put on this earth with the sole purpose of torturing Quinn, and her dad had nothing better to do than stare at the television—when he wasn’t running his mouth about how amazing Quinn’s older brother was. Quinn had a younger brother, too. He stayed out of the line of fire by hiding behind headphones and video game controllers.
Tensions had been running high in Quinn’s house before a fire had burned the place down—part of a string of arson attacks started by another Elemental in town. But now her family was living in temporary housing, a cramped three-bedroom condo closer to Annapolis.
And Nick thought he had problems.
He didn’t hear the front door open, but the air told him when Michael was home.
It also told him that Chris and Becca were struggling to right themselves in the living room.
Nick smiled and entered the last invoice into the computer, then set aside the three where payments were missing.
Michael looked beat when he walked into the kitchen, and Nick was glad he’d gotten the paperwork done.
His brother grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator and dropped into a chair. “Thanks for taking care of that.”
Nick always did, but he shrugged. “It’s nothing.”
“You think you could help me with a job tomorrow, since school is out?”
Nick had been planning to spend the day doing more college applications, tweaking entrance essays, and taking a few more SAT practice tests.
But Michael looked exhausted, and Nick could put that stuff off for a few hours. “Sure,” he said. Then he paused, thinking of Quinn. “You think you could let me borrow the truck for an hour?”
Michael had to be tired, because he took another drink of water, then tossed the keys on the table.
Nick’s eyebrows went up.
Michael shrugged, then shoved out of the chair, heading for the doorway. “I know you won’t do anything irresponsible.”
Nick never did.
And sometimes he wondered if that was part of the problem.
Quinn Briscoe stretched her left leg against the barre in the empty room, then folded her upper body as low as she could. She didn’t do ballet, not really, but she’d taken enough classes as a kid that she always started and finished with a classical warm-up—just because that was the most thorough routine she knew, and it hadn’t let her down yet.
Her thighs were screaming, and she told them to go to hell.
Really, she wished she’d worn sweatpants instead of these stretchy booty shorts. Then she wouldn’t have to look at how massive her legs were.
Besides, it was probably cold outside.
The shorts hadn’t been her choice. They were part of the cheerleading uniform at Old Mill, and she’d had her first practice this afternoon. Apparently athletes didn’t get the week off from school, just a modified schedule.
For five minutes, Quinn had allowed herself to be excited about the cheer squad. It wasn’t her type of thing, not really, but she’d been kicked off the dance team for being mouthy—and too fat, she was sure, given the teacher’s comments about body type—and cheerleading seemed like the next best thing.
Then Taylor Morrisey, squad captain, started calling her “Crisco,” a mockery of her last name.
The other girls had started doing the same.
Quinn had flipped off Taylor and stormed out of there—only to go home to find out that Jake, her older brother, was home from college for a few days.
That wasn’t the problem. Quinn accepted his existence, just like she did the rest of her family.
But her mother had told Jake he could sleep in Quinn’s bed, and Quinn could make do on the floor.
And instead of refusing out of chivalry or kindness or whatever boys were supposed to do, Jake had smirked at her and said, “Yeah, isn’t that where dogs usually sleep?”
Quinn had lost it. Moreover, her mom had taken Jake’s side. Of course perfect, scholarship-winning, Duke-basketball-playing Jake couldn’t sleep on the couch.
Of course their argument had devolved into
a screaming match.
Of course Quinn had walked out. Again.
And she was getting sick of crashing at Becca’s, watching her best friend’s perfect relationship with her mom and her perfect relationship with Chris Merrick.
Quinn switched legs and stretched farther. R&B music pulsed into her head through the earbuds connected to her iPod, completely at odds with the classical routine, but she thrived on the rage in the lyrics.
The music caught her, and she spun off the barre, flying across the floor in a complicated routine of leaps and turns. Each step let her spring higher, until it felt like the air became a part of the dance and carried her along.
Then the song ended, and she was staring at herself in the smudgy mirror, her chest rising and falling from the exertion.
God, her thighs looked massive.
She scowled and turned away so she wouldn’t have to look at herself.
Only to find Nick Merrick standing in the doorway.
Quinn stopped short and yanked the earbuds free, feeling heat crawl up her neck. She wasn’t shy about boys, but her rage-inspired dancing felt like it should be private.
No, indulging her own insecurities felt like it should be private.
“How long have you been there?” she demanded.
“A minute or so,” he said equably. “I wasn’t exactly timing myself.”