Page 121 of Grim Tidings

The last thing I need is another mortal to keep track of. I glance down at Aelia staring at Frank with her massive scythe. Better to have her inside than out, I guess.

I jerk my head toward the graveyard. “Go,” I tell her. “I’ll take care of this.”

She rolls her eyes. “I don’t take orders from you.”

But she slips through the narrow opening in the gate anyway and quickly takes off after the dog. Not the fence, like I requested.

Christ, I’m—I’m stretched too thin. I don’t know who to protect or how. Too many things are fighting for my attention and I can’t—I can’t—

“Whoa. Easy.” Frank teeters closer, setting his flowers down carefully against the sidewalk. He grips my shoulders with his bony hands and forces me upright. “You’re all right. What’s going on?”

I shake my head. I don’t have time for this. “You need to leave,” I rasp.

He frowns. “Why?” He glances over my shoulder toward the broken gate. The chain that I just broke with my bare hands. “Who was that little girl?”

“Nothing. No one. Frank. Listen to me—” How can I possibly explain? I have no idea what I’m walking into. Where Darcy is or what state I’ll find her in. Graveyards are already a sacred space for the dead. Add in a handful of immortal beings and Halloween and it’s a fucking recipe for disaster. I drag my hand roughly over my head. “Please. Go home. I’ll find you later and explain, but I need you to not be here right now.”

“Can’t.” He bends down and collects his flowers. “Got orders to fulfill.”

“I feel like there are better times, Frank.”

He makes a disgruntled sound. “Well, I’m late with ’em. Had a bit of a week.”

On the other side of the graveyard, there’s a loud bark. I turn to see Aelia cresting the hill, a blur of pink among the slate gray.

I don’t have time for this.

“Get back into your truck, Frank.” I layer the order with enough of my compulsion that he shudders under the impact of it. I’d feel guilty if I weren’t so determined to get to Darcy. I wedge myself through the narrow gap in the gate, calling to him over my shoulder. “Worry about the flowers tomorrow. I’ll check in with you later.”

I don’t wait for his answer. I’m busy running toward the hill at a dead sprint, expecting the worst.

Darcy alone. Darcy hurt. Darcy without control of her magic. All of it twists and turns together to form a perfect storm of worst-case scenarios.

But when I finally get to the top of the hill, the other side of the graveyard spilling out at my feet, it’s not any of those things.

It’s worse, because Darcy is not hurt or maimed or held against her will.

She’s at the base of the hill looking perfectly fine, standing next to Nate with a guilty expression on her face and a massive scythe in her hand.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Darcy

Gabriel crests the hill with a wild look on his face, his blue eyes darting from me to Nate to the scythe in my hand. I have the sudden urge to hide it behind my back, but I don’t think that would do much to salvage the situation.

The situation, which has spun wildly out of control. I wanted to do this quietly. Carefully.

I didn’t expect to have an audience.

Tater Tot hops around me, his tail wagging madly. I pat his head absently, trying to get him to calm while Aelia, inexplicably also here somehow, collapses at the stone steps of a mausoleum, dumping a bag of candy out on her lap.

None of this is going according to plan.

“Aelia. What are you doing here?” I lick my lips, panicked and trying to hide it. Aelia flicks me a Mars bar, and it sails right by my head.

“I’m here to help.” She picks through the candy in her lap, finds a bag of Skittles, then tears the top open. “Gideon knows you’re here.”

“Who is Gideon?” Nate asks.