Grave Dance (Alex Craft, #2)

A figure appeared in my peripheral vision. I swung around, anticipating seeing whoever had set the constructs on us. Instead I came face-to-face with Death.

His dark eyes went wide, as if he was surprised to see me, and in my own shock, I didn’t notice one of the birds diving close until it was inches from me. Death’s hand shot out, his fingers jabbing into the bird. He jerked, and the bird vanished. It didn’t dissolve like the ones Caleb, Falin, and I kil ed, but al trace that it had existed disappeared—except the disk that fel to the ground.

“You always have to interfere, don’t you?” said a voice behind him, and we both turned as a soul col ector—

dressed for a rave, in a bright orange tube top and a pair of white PVC hip-huggers—stepped forward.

She shook her head in disapproval, making her long dreadlocks swish. Then she strol ed forward, slashing through the birds with her orange talonlike nails. Another reaper, wearing al gray, fol owed close behind her, swinging his silver skul –topped cane through the birds.

swinging his silver skul –topped cane through the birds.

“Welcome to the party,” I muttered, aiming my own dagger at a construct that dove too close.

“Alex, down!” Falin yel ed, and a large hand slammed into my back, shoving me toward the floor.

I rol ed as hit I the ground, but with Caleb and Falin on one side and the col ectors on the other, I didn’t have anywhere to go. My rol ended with me on my back, staring straight up as three groups of ravens descended from different directions, al diving for the spot where I’d been.

Not that they stood a chance against the three col ectors and two fae. I covered my head as a shower of spel ed disks rained over me.

Then there was silence.

I pushed myself off the floor and looked around. The front door stil hung open, but no more dark shapes swooped through it. I clutched my dagger, waiting, watching, sure the reprieve would break at any moment. I think we al were.

But nothing happened, and I final y released the breath I’d been holding.

Caleb immediately rounded on Falin. “What did you do?”

“They weren’t after me,” Falin said, wincing and leaning against the wal . Fresh red blood dripped over his gloved hand where he pressed it against his side.

“Leave him alone,” I told Caleb as I stepped forward to help Falin. He needed to sit down, and I didn’t care what Caleb said—he needed a healer.

A hand on my arm stopped me, and I turned, ready to lay into Caleb for being overprotective. But it wasn’t Caleb; it was Death, and the look on his face kil ed any protest I might have raised.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, his hazel eyes scanning my face, my neck, my shoulders. He brushed aside my hair as if searching for any injury it might have hidden.

“I’m fine.” And I owed him and the other col ectors a debt of gratitude for that. We’d have been overwhelmed if they hadn’t appeared.

hadn’t appeared.

My gaze moved past him and I saw the other two col ectors gathering the mist hanging in the air from the vanished ravens. It dissipated slowly as they reached out again and again. Souls. How creepy is it that we’ve been trudging through souls? Not that the stuff looked like a person or a creature. Most souls I’d seen outside of a body stil looked like, wel , the original body.

“How does a soul turn into mist?”

“Not any way natural,” Death said, running his hands down my arms.

The raver-col ector glared at him. Guess he wasn’t supposed to tell me that. It wasn’t as if “not any way natural” told me much.

Death ignored her. “You’re sure you’re not hurt? Not one of those creatures touched you? Not even a scratch?”

I frowned, looking down at myself. “I don’t think so.” I hadn’t exactly had time to take stock yet, but I didn’t feel hurt. “Nothing serious, surely.”

“Alex, who are you talking to?” Caleb asked, stepping forward at the same time Death brushed my top up so he could search my waist and back. Caleb stopped. “Anyone else seeing her clothes move on their own?”

Falin nodded. “Yeah, she’s not alone,” he said, and I swear he glared at the space near where Death stood, as if jealous.

Not that he had any right to be. Stil , I brushed my shirt back in place and stepped away from Death’s searching hands.

“I’m fine,” I said again.

“Alex, those were carriers. As little as a scratch would transfer their spel .”

I blanched, staring at Death. Crap. I was pretty sure I wasn’t hurt, but the others?

I turned but didn’t have time to say anything before the col ector in gray stepped forward. His cane shot out, the silver skul ornament pressing into Death’s chest not in a silver skul ornament pressing into Death’s chest not in a blow but more a cautionary block.

“Do you think that wise?” he asked, his eyes on Death, who glared at him in return.

Whatever passed between them made Death look away.

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