Up From the Grave: A Night Huntress Novel

“Yes.”

 

 

Relief turned my knees to jelly. Joy kept me upright, and anxiety caused my stomach to lurch. I could still see two distinct pieces beneath the coat Bones held.

 

“That’s Denise?” Tate said incredulously.

 

Ian let out a low whistle. “You’re right; Charles will kill you, and that’s only if she comes back from this. If she doesn’t, he’ll keep you alive so he can torture you for decades.”

 

Fear for my best friend caused my voice to tremble, not concern over Ian’s prediction.

 

“Can she come back from this? Sure, other demons said only bone of the brethren could kill them, but decapitation kills a hundred percent of the rest of the population.”

 

“Reckon we’re about to find out,” Bones muttered.

 

Then he disappeared inside through the same door Mencheres had. I followed them, too worried about Denise to comment about the irony of choosing a church to see if someone branded with demonic essence could resurrect herself.

 

The back section had a small kitchen, three offices, and a restroom. Mencheres and Bones passed by all of them, entering the main sanctuary by a side door. The scent of candles, incense, and wood polish perfumed the air. Stained glass bordered the upper perimeter of the sanctuary, transforming the ordinary light from the street into beams of mauve, blue, amber, and emerald. The colors illuminated the empty pews, the choir area, and the cross that hung front and center above the altar.

 

Katie stood below it, flanked by Gorgon, Kira, and a human man who looked vaguely familiar. I didn’t spare any of them a second glance because I couldn’t tear my eyes away from my daughter. She was alive. Whole. Unhurt. As I stared, I was seized with the desire to hug her while spinning in deliriously happy circles—and the urge to drop to my knees while sobbing out my thanks to God.

 

Both actions would alarm her. She’d already made huge strides by standing there instead of running or trying to stab anyone, and seeing me break down in hysterics would hardly be reassuring.

 

Instead, I smiled as I approached with slow, measured steps.

 

“Hi, Katie. I see you’ve met my friends.”

 

Those colored hues danced over her face as she took a step toward me, her head cocked to the side.

 

“I stayed with them like you ordered,” she said in her high, musical voice.

 

Like I ordered? Before I could ask what she meant, Tate shouldered past me, stopping when he saw Katie. From his thunderstruck expression, he hadn’t believed what we told him about Denise until that moment.

 

“Katie,” he breathed in the same reverent whisper most people used when they were in church. Then he sank to his knees, his broad shoulders starting to tremble with sobs.

 

Her eyes widened, and she glanced behind her. Yep, alarmed, just as I’d figured. I nudged Tate, whispering, “Get it together, you’re freaking her out,” while keeping the smile on my face.

 

Bones provided ample distraction when he set the bulky coat on the nearest pew. As he peeled back the blood-sodden fabric, I wasn’t the only one who gasped at what was underneath.

 

An exact replica of Katie’s head rested against the tiny, slender body. Small, pale arms folded over it, almost making it look like the headless doppelganger was hugging it to her chest.

 

As disturbing as the sight was, I was more upset that there wasn’t a hint of regeneration in the exposed tissues. Denise wasn’t healing from the horrific injury.

 

Bones had the same concern.

 

“Nathanial,” he said tightly, “why hasn’t she grown a new head yet?”

 

Nathanial. Now I remembered; the gangly redhead was Denise’s much-older relative. He’d once been branded by demonic essence, too, which is why he hadn’t aged in the century since then.

 

“How long’s it been since this happened?” Nathanial asked, sounding more quizzical than concerned.

 

“Nearly two hours,” Bones said.

 

Logically, I knew he was right, but it felt like only minutes since we’d left the book depository. Emotions acted as their own sort of time machine, slowing it down or cranking it into fast-forward, depending on the circumstances.

 

“Why does that look like me?” Katie asked in a very calm tone.

 

I stifled my groan. I’d been so anxious about Denise that I hadn’t thought to shield her gaze. One day on the job and I was already a terrible mother, letting my child stare at a decapitated body.

 

“Um, I think we should go in the other room,” I began.

 

“She’s a shapeshifter,” Bones interrupted, answering the question instead of bothering about what Katie saw. Maybe it was because he was still drunk off demon blood.

 

When Katie continued to stare, Bones elaborated.

 

“Shapeshifters can transform into anything they see or imagine. Since people were after you, this one chose your form. That allowed Gorgon to take you away without their knowing that you’d left.”

 

“Why did this one help me?” she wondered.

 

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