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“Dead. Dead because of you. We’re all coming back. All the ones you’ve killed.”
I swallowed hard, but my mind was reeling, trying to make sense of what the voice meant. Dead because of me? But I didn’t go around killing people like it was going out of style. I wasn’t a killer. And how was I responsible for Mercy’s death? I hadn’t been the one to swing the blade.
This didn’t make any sense.
“We’re coming. We’re coming.”
“Who is we?”
“So many. So many, Genie McQueen. We’ll finally know peace when we’re through.”
Huh-huh-huh came the harsh laugh once more.
Then Santiago’s eyes closed and his head slumped forward against his chest. He was so still and the room so silent that for the agonizing few seconds after he stopped moving, I thought he might actually be dead.
A groan from the back of his throat was the only indication he was still among the living.
I clambered to my feet, in spite of Wilder’s firm grip on my thigh trying to keep me in place. I crossed the room and knelt in front of Santiago, placing one hand on his shoulder and using my other to lift his chin, so I could get a better look at his face. His dark stubble tickled my palm, and his skin was clammy to the touch.
I half expected him to open his eyes and still have them be that ghostly white. If that dead bitch started talking to me again I was so out of here.
Instead he made another groan and blinked, chocolately brown eyes finding mine and focusing at last.
“Ain’t that just the way with the pretty ones.” He shook his head but it seemed to pain him so instead he shrugged off my hand and sank deeper into the armchair, looking for all the world like a man just coming off the worst hangover of his life.
He glanced at the cup sitting next to him and wrinkled his nose, visibly recoiling from it.
Guess that whole encounter was just as fun for him to experience as it had been for us to watch. Santiago licked his lips, which had gone dry and parched. I wasn’t a total dick to not notice it. “Do you want some water?” I asked.
“Preferably without your blood in it, thanks. That’s not a trip I want to take again any time soon.”
“Good, because my blood wasn’t on offer, then or now.”
He smiled faintly and closed his eyes. “Magic demands sacrifice, doll.”
I grunted and walked into the kitchen. Leaving him and Wilder alone in a room together was always a risk, but I hoped they could behave themselves for twelve seconds, especially when one of them was down for the count. Wilder wasn’t big on taking advantage of the weak and helpless, even if he did hate them.
Such gallantry.
I found a clean glass in one of Santiago’s kitchen cupboards and filled it with water from the tap. His kitchen was so filled with wondrous and disgusting objects I wanted to spend my unobserved time going through all of them to see what he had lying around. Too bad I’d absolutely be busted for doing it.
I returned to the living room and set the glass of cloudy water down by his elbow. For a moment I hovered in front of him, wanting to do all manner of absurd and motherly things. It was my fault he’d been hit by a metaphysical Mack truck, shouldn’t it also be up to me to make sure he was okay?
Instead I sat down beside Wilder again, feeling conflicted and guilty about everything.
I regretted coming here more and more every second. Now not only did I have an undead mother to deal with, apparently the dead themselves had a vendetta against me that was coming time to be paid?
Frankly, I’d been around the walking dead before, and while they might not be brain-starved zombies who would rip you limb from limb, they also weren’t terribly enticing party guests. If I could avoid dealing with that scenario again, I would.
“Do you, um…” I wasn’t quite sure how to phrase the question I wanted to ask. “Were you present for that?”
“For the ghost who is chasing your blood to use me as her puppet? Yeah I got to witness that super fun bit of theatre. I’ve got to say, Genie, I thought you were an interesting case, and I wanted to get a taste of your particular flavor of magic, but goddamn, girl. You’ve got the most curse-tainted blood I’ve ever tasted. There’s a cloud hanging over you unlike anything I’ve ever seen before.”
“Awesome.”
“I don’t mean to be a drag about it, but whatever that was speaking through me
, she’s still in pain. I could feel it. And behind that pain is an anger unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. She blames you for what she’s experiencing, and now she believes she’s pierced some kind of veil and she’s about to get everything she wants.”
