Grave Dance (Alex Craft, #2)

He disappeared into the woods just as Hol y stepped into the clearing. She carried PC under one arm and in her wake stormed several ABMU officers in ful tactical gear.

I glanced around. Falin and I were the only ones left standing in a field of dark magic and bodies. How come when I end up in these situations, the bad guys have always disintegrated?





Chapter 39


I sat in the middle of my bed, huddled under blankets. I hadn???t spent a night in jail this time, which had shocked the hel out of me considering that most of the witnesses to what had happened were soul col ectors and not inclined to speak to the police. While I’d walked the detectives through a heavily edited version of the events surrounding Edana’s ritual, I’d remembered Edana had owed me a debt. I might not have had to destroy her. Not that I’d meant to completely remove her from al planes—I’d needed to stop her. And I’d done that. But now I had more blood on my hands.

The explanation of what had happened had stretched my newfound inability to lie, so the police knew more than Faerie was likely to appreciate. Of course, the fae weren’t the only ones with things they would rather that mortals did not know tied up in this mess—the col ectors had more than a few of their own secrets precariously close to the surface of the tale. And, speaking of soul col ectors, I hadn’t seen Death since he disappeared. It had been only a day, and it wasn’t like he showed up daily, but I was worried about him.

I was also worried about what the gray man had said.

Though I hadn’t seen Death, I couldn’t keep Falin from hovering. I’d lost even my psychic sight by the time we were released from the crime scene, and my vision hadn’t improved with sleep. So now I sat on the bed, listening to the news because I couldn’t see it.

“. . . Stil no explanation for the bizarre dreams that attacked the city two nights ago.” Lusa’s broadcast voice mixed with the sound of static before clearing. “While mixed with the sound of static before clearing. “While nightmares are a common occurrence often brought on by stress and other life events, the sheer number of people who cal ed police in the early morning hours because they thought their dreams were real has led some experts to speculate that outside forces might be involved. Despite the number of emergency cal s, no one was hurt, but the OMIH continues to investigate. In other news . . .”

I tuned out the TV as the bed shifted under Falin’s weight.

He pressed a steaming mug into my hands, and the scent of rich coffee met my nose. Then he lifted the comforter from my shoulders so he could slide closer before wrapping us both in the covers again. My skin reacted to more than just his body heat, and I focused on the mug of coffee I couldn’t see.

I didn’t know whether to enjoy the giddiness that erupted in my body with every stray touch of Falin’s body, or to run and deny the emotion. How could I very much want to be here, right now, with Falin and stil be worried about Death?

I ached to see Death and know he was okay, to see that easy smile that hid so many secrets, and to know what might have happened if there hadn’t been a hydra at that bridge. I feel like I’m trying to run in opposite directions at the same time.

Not that anything too serious could happen between Falin and me. Not at the moment, at least. Hol y had taken PC for a walk and was due back any second.

Poor Hol y. She had attempted to eat mortal food after we returned home, but it turned to ash on her tongue. She could never again eat any food but Faerie food—if we figured out how to get her some.

Falin had left a message at the Bloom for Rianna. I hoped that she’d be able to send Ms. B or Desmond with food for Hol y, but if that wouldn’t work, we’d have to think of something else. Which might mean sending Hol y to my castle to live. She’d moped around my apartment for most of the last day, the three of us taking comfort in each other’s of the last day, the three of us taking comfort in each other’s company and avoiding discussion of any important topics like changelings, planeweavers, or the queen’s bloodied hands.

“So if fae can’t say ‘thank you,’ how do they express appreciation?” I asked, thinking about the fact that I couldn’t thank Falin for saving my life. Of course, I guess I’d also saved his, so we were probably even.

He brushed my hair away from my neck and leaned closer. “Gifts or gestures. Actions that say more than words ever could.” He brushed a kiss on the spot where my neck met my shoulder and a shiver traveled through my body, nearly making me spil my coffee.

He scooted closer, his heat sliding over my back. Then a loud knock sounded on the front door, and I jumped. That time I did spil the coffee.

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