Grave Dance (Alex Craft, #2)

He moved slowly, sucking in his gut to al ow more clearance between the tree trunks. But not enough clearance. Bark flaked off the trees as he brushed past.

Beside me, the kelpie’s ears twitched, the skin on her neck quivering as she snapped her head toward the forest. The trol ’s glamour might have hidden his footsteps, but we al trol ’s glamour might have hidden his footsteps, but we al heard the explosion of bark.

Malik wrung his hands, glancing from the forest to me.

“What do you see?”

“Trol ,” I whispered, hoping the trol in question wouldn’t hear. He’d paused when he brushed against the tree, as if waiting to see if we had noticed.

We had.

I’d met only one trol before, and it had been rather slow on the uptake. This one looked much more astute—it was probably the suit. If nothing else, the suit definitely implied that roaming the wilds wasn’t part of his normal routine.

“I’m guessing trol s aren’t common in this area?” I asked, but the only answer I received was a loud splash behind me.

I turned in time to see ripples and the kelpie’s dark shadow fade under the surface of the water. I glanced at Malik—or at least at where Malik had been. Now there was only his retreating back.

I whirled back around, and the movement dislodged smal pebbles, sending them tumbling down the bank to make plink plink sounds as they hit the water. The trol was running now, bounding toward me. Crap. My muscles tensed, preparing to send me bolting away. My car wasn’t far, just on the other side of the bridge. Then the trol reached into his coat, pul ing his sidearm and in the process flashing the badge at his waist.

“Freeze—FIB,” he yel ed as he leveled a gun large enough to be a smal cannon at Malik’s fleeing back.

I froze. For one endless moment, even my heart stopped.

Then the next beat crashed hard, threatening to knock me forward. I lifted my hands slowly, palms open to show I carried no weapon and was preparing no spel . Not that it mattered. The trol never looked at me.

He thundered by, each stride of his tree-trunk-thick legs eating the ground in a massive gait. Stil the distance between him and Malik grew.

between him and Malik grew.

“Malik Shel ycoat, by order of the winter court I command you to stop,” he yel ed, his voice booming but already breathless.

Malik dove into the forest, slipping silently through the underbrush until he vanished among the trees. The trol crashed after him, trees shuddering and bark exploding like shrapnel as he shouldered through.

I remained by the bank, my hands in the air until both fae had vanished from sight. Then I lowered my arms, glancing around. I could stil hear the trol ’s loud pursuit in the distance, and I half expected to spot the trol ’s partner approaching me, gun out and cuffs in hand. But there was no one.

Time to get out of here.

I grabbed my purse from where I’d dropped it when the trol appeared and snapped my shields closed. I hadn’t had my grave-sight active long, and I hadn’t actual y reached for the grave or used my power, but darkness stil swam over my vision. I dug the glasses I often needed after the ritual from my bag and blinked, giving my sight a moment to adjust. It did, and after a couple of stil -rushing heartbeats, my vision cleared enough that I was confident I’d be able to drive. Then I made my way over the bridge, not exactly running, but just barely not.

The FIB was an official law enforcement entity—I probably should have waited to see if the agent’s backup would arrive. There would definitely be questions about what I was doing out in the middle of nowhere with a person of interest in a homicide case. I’m not fleeing the scene, I told myself, but I was. And I knew it.

I’d just crossed the bridge when I noticed the shadow leaning against my car. I stopped short, squinting to make out the figure. I groaned and started walking again when I final y recognized the woman.

“Agent Nori,” I said as I approached.

“Miss Craft. You have a tendency to show up where you

“Miss Craft. You have a tendency to show up where you shouldn’t.” She flashed some teeth. “It seems you found the fae who was harassing you.”

I twisted the strap of my purse in my hands as I focused on her nose, not her eyes. “I was mistaken about his involvement.”

“I see.” She drew the word out so it had multiple syl ables.

“Be that as it may, he’s stil wanted for questioning in an open case. If you encounter him again, give me a cal .” She pressed a card into my hand. “And, Miss Craft, let me give you a little friendly advice. Those who don’t have loyalty to a court don’t have loyalty to anyone. Be careful with whom you associate.”

“Right.” I slid into my car and got the hel out of there, silently wishing luck to Malik as I drove away.





Chapter 7


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