Grave Dance (Alex Craft, #2)

“I heard Alex was having a slumber party and decided to crash,” Death said, and though I couldn’t see it, I could hear the smirk in his voice.

I’m tal —I have been ever since I turned twelve and in a single year shot up from a respectable twelve-year-old height of four-eleven to a gangly height of five-ten. I’d slumped for the rest of the year, until I’d left the academy for summer break and my father had threatened to make me spend my entire vacation in a social polishing camp if I didn’t stand up straight. I’d soon stopped caring that I towered over my female peers and learned to enjoy the fact towered over my female peers and learned to enjoy the fact that I could look most guys in the eye. It was some time after that when I decided kickass boots that added an extra three inches to my height were the only way to go. Al that said, I wasn’t used to feeling short. But with Falin towering in front of me looking like some sort of pissed-off Greek god carved out of marble, and Death pul ing me back against his wide chest, I felt downright petite.

I also felt like I was suddenly caught in a situation that was about to spiral wildly out of control.

“You shouldn’t be wasting energy. We need to get your body temperature back up, not invite in the chil .” Falin stepped forward and, apparently deciding the best thing to do was ignore Death completely, rubbed his hands over my arms—which was more annoying than helpful.

Death’s arm wrapped tighter around my shoulders. “I have body heat.”

“Stop it, both of you.” I shrugged away from Falin’s hands, which earned me a frown from the fae, until I ducked out from under Death’s arm. Then I garnered frowns from both men.

But I couldn’t escape Death’s touch. He and I had to be in contact for him to be visible unless I wanted to start channeling major amounts of energy, which I didn’t, maybe even couldn’t at this point. So I stood there for an awkward moment, my hand clasped in his, but my arm outstretched to add space between our bodies. How do I get myself into these things? Wel , there was always one safe topic: business.

“There was a col ector at the crime scene earlier. Or at least I think he was a col ector. But he col ected the souls before death.” Wel , with the female skimmer he did, though I could have sworn the male was going to make it before the col ector showed and snagged the man’s soul. “Can you guys do that? Get impatient and col ect a soul early?”

I’d been focusing on studying the layer of dirt coating my boots from my recent misadventures in the great outdoors, boots from my recent misadventures in the great outdoors, but as the silence stretched I looked up and found Death staring at me. Not the dark but intense I’m-imaginingyou-with-a-lot-less-clothing stare he’d been prone to giving me lately but a you’ve-stumbled-into-something-over-yourhead stare.

“What did he look like?” he asked.

“Male. Average height. Late twenties to early thirties.

Dark hair. Long dark trench coat. What are you thinking?”

Death frowned, his gaze moving past me.

“Could he be involved?” Falin had snapped into cop mode while I wasn’t paying attention. “He was at a murder scene that had a rift into the Aetheric. Could a . . .

col ector”—the way he said the word made it clear it wasn’t a title he was accustomed to using—“have ripped through to the Aetheric?”

Death shook his head, but I wasn’t sure if he was disagreeing or simply dismissing his own thoughts. Then his eyes focused on me again. “You’re trembling.”

“I’m fine.” I should have saved my breath.

“She needs sleep,” Falin said, his gaze going icy again.

“With you, I suppose?” Death asked.

Falin crossed his arms. “It’s an option.”

“I’m fine,” I repeated. Not that either of them noticed—

they were too busy attempting to stare holes into each other. Perfect. Just what I need. I was cold to the core, magical y drained, and far beyond the point of exhaustion.

“You know what, guys, maybe you’re right. Have fun with the pissing contest. I’m going to bed.” I dropped Death’s hand, closed my shields, and marched over to col apse ful y dressed on my bed. I was asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pil ow.





Chapter 21


I woke trapped under a warm arm. A quick status check showed I was stil in my own bed and ful y dressed, though my boots had vanished at some point in the night. I was sure the warm body curled around me belonged to Falin only because Death was staring at me from where he leaned against the wal across from my bed.

“Did you stay al night?” I kept my voice low, trying not to wake the man behind me.

Death lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Wasn’t much night left. More morning and early afternoon.”

“You know, that is kind of creepy stalker–esque.”

“I’m not the one who crawled into bed with you after you were asleep.”

Point. The men in my life were . . . complicated. And so much for my resolve. I craned my neck to glance back at Falin. His face was relaxed, peaceful with sleep. Good.

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