Sisters of Salt and Iron (The Sisters of Blood and Spirit, #2)

“Yeah, but the show will provide some distraction, and give him access to the construction tools that have been stored on-site. The town’s going to start excavating the spot where he hid her next week. If he doesn’t do it now, they’ll find her.”


It took me a moment to see what the problem was. “You want them to catch him in the act.”

He nodded.

I had no idea how I was going to make that happen, but I’d do it. “I need you to show me where she is.”

“I can’t take you unless he’s there. I’m tethered to him.”

I held out my arms and beckoned him to me. “One-time offer, Softie, my friend. Jump on board the Lark train.”

A dark eyebrow arched high on his pale forehead. “Possession? How very 1973 of you.” He didn’t hesitate, though. He jumped into me like a flea onto a cat. It was like being hit by a car and knocked into the air, but without the pain and broken bones.

My head was crammed with a series of images that sped through my brain like a high-speed train. A birthday party for a five-year-old boy, Joe’s graduation, cars and guitars and screaming fans. And there were a lot of images of him with the girl I assumed was Laura. They were smiling in every one of them.

And then he showed me her grave, and everything went still—a barren plot of land, overgrown and neglected, covered in tall grass and wildflowers. I wouldn’t have thought anything of it had I walked by. The gentle rounding of the ground—the swell of dirt that concealed Laura’s body—wouldn’t have even registered with me as odd.

I turned my head, and the Haven Crest campus came into view. I knew where I was now—where Laura was.

And I could feel every emotion that Joe attached to her, and to her grave. More importantly, I felt his desire to make Olgilvie pay for what he’d done. That sensation lingered, even after Joe left my body.

“I have to go,” he said, rising from my bed. “He’s leaving. Can I count on you, J.B.?”

“You can. Now get out so I can go back to sleep.”

Joe grinned. “Sorry, sweetheart, but you’re about to have more company. Go easy on the poor kid.”

And then he was gone—like flipping a switch. When a ghost decided to take off, there was no lingering to say goodbye. What had he meant by more company?

Someone knocked on my window. My bedroom was on the second floor. Who did I know who was crazy enough to climb a tree to visit me this early in the morning?

I crawled out of bed and went to my window. I pulled back the curtains, ready to shoo away a squirrel or scare off a woodpecker.

I was not prepared to see Mace staring back at me, even with Joe’s warning.

It was a good thing that I didn’t scare easily. I still jumped, and I swore, but at least I didn’t scream, because that would have brought Nan running, never mind that she slept like a brick.

I opened the window. Mace sat in the tree outside holding the screen. It was cold and I was only wearing a T-shirt and boxers, but the T-shirt was black and it covered everything, even if some of those bits were stiffly offended by the chill. Besides, he’d seen me in less the night he’d saved my life.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I asked.

“Can I come in?” he asked. Now that I got a good glimpse of him, he looked terrible. He was scruffy, looked like he hadn’t slept. And I could smell beer on him, which was really odd, because he wasn’t much of a drinker.

That was why I stepped back and let him crawl inside.

It wasn’t graceful—he lurched over the sill and pretty much fell into my room, sprawling gracelessly on the carpet while still holding the screen. I took it from him before he could hurt himself with it.

“You’re going to be putting that back,” I informed him, and shut the window. It was freaking cold out!

He pushed himself into a sitting position. There were a lot of girls who would love to be me right now, and I wasn’t one of them.

“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

“Home?” I suggested, wrinkling my nose. “You know, that place where the shower is?”

He lifted his arm, turned his head and took a whiff. “I must smell like ass.”

“A little bit, yeah.” Since it was obvious he wasn’t going to stand up, I sat down. It wasn’t even dawn yet, and my room was lit only by the street light outside. Thanks to Joe, however, I was fully awake.

“Is Wren here?” he asked, looking about like my sister might pop out of the closet at any moment and scream “Boo!”

“Nope. Just you and me, stinky.” Then, more seriously, because we kinda had a bond and I cared about the guy, “What’s up?” I didn’t need to ask. I already knew what he was going to tell me.

“Kevin came over last night,” he said, his words slurring a little—probably more from lack of sleep than the beer, because I could tell he wasn’t really drunk. “He told me he couldn’t lie to me anymore, and that he and Sarah have been screwing around behind my back.”

I raised a brow. “Did they actually go that far?”

He looked at me—long enough that I almost squirmed. “Did you know?”

I shook my head. “I saw them talking at the party, and I figured it out.”

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