AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“And some of the Mystic Willow Bay Society,” I add as an afterthought.
Her brow crinkles. “Did you find out something about them while you were dead?”
I nod, my heart clenching at the reminder of what I overheard in my old childhood home. “You were right. Some of the members aren’t trustworthy at all, including Opal and my parents. Or, well, my fake parents.”
Pity fills her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
I shrug. “It’s not your fault.”
She shakes her head, her jaw ticking. “Yeah, but still, I knew those bastards were up to something. They hate any creature that’s not like them.” She shakes her head again. “Let’s go back to Rowan’s. We’ll sit down and figure out what we’re going to do.”
Sucking back the tears, I nod. Then we start back down the sidewalk.
“Who’s Rowan, anyway?” I ask, trying to distract myself from the guilt and pain stinging inside me. “The Ghost Breather?”
Peyton nods, pulling her hair into a high ponytail and securing it with an elastic from her wrist. “It might take some convincing for her to help us, but I think it will be beneficial if we have someone who can chat with the dead on our side.”
“I think you might be right.” I shudder, pulling my jacket tighter around me as the wind picks up and I get the strangest feeling I’m being watched.
Yeah, I definitely think it might be a good idea to have a Ghost Breather on our side. Not because I’m worried we’ll be haunted by a bunch of ghosts, but because of the final haunting words the reaper had whispered to me before I returned to life.
“You and I still have unfinished business, Eva,” he said with a wink. “I’ll see you soon. And tell Rowan the same thing.”
How he knows me or what unfinished business he thinks we have, is beyond me. I’m hoping Rowan knows.
No, what I’m really hoping is that she knows a way to avoid him. The last thing I ever want is for me or anyone I care about to have to look Death in the face again.
10
Max
By the time I return to my lair, Ryleigh is unfrozen and pacing the length of my living room. Her eyes are oozing blood, and she’s gnawing on her fingers. When her gaze finds mine, the eye bleeding hunger subsides a bit.
“Where have you been?” She starts toward me, then freezes. “You know what? Forget what I said. I’m not your wife. You don’t need to tell me where you’ve been.” She lines her palm to her stomach. “Zombies, I’m getting crankier the hungrier I get.”
“The brains I ordered aren’t here yet, so we’ll get you something to eat on our way out.” I collect a bottle of whiskey from the table and take a sip straight from the bottle, telling myself I did the right thing by making the deal with the Queen of Hell. That I should put myself first. That I’m a demon.
You’re a demon, Max. You seem to be forgetting that lately.
She perks up, but then frowns. “On our way out? Are we going somewhere?”
I nod, setting the bottle down. “To complete the next step of stopping your decaying process, we have to take a little trip.”
“So, the first step worked?” Hope shines in her blood-stained eyes.
“Of course.” I flash her a grin as I screw the cap back on the bottle. “Did you think I failed?” I laugh. Me, fail? How ridiculous.
“I wasn’t really sure.” She gives a sluggish shrug. “I mean, I still feel and look the same, so …” She shrugs again with her bottom lip jutted out.
A pouting zombie? Who ever thought I’d see such a sight? Then again, the Queen of Hell said she was a hybrid, so that explains a lot. I wish I knew what powers she had. Zombie powers, obviously. And witch’s. But is Ryleigh something else, too?
The only way I might be able to find out is to discover who created her and why. But that’s another problem for another time, one I’m not sure I’ll even solve since, after I stop Ryleigh from decaying, I’ll be delivering her to the Queen of Hell.
“You shouldn’t decay anymore for now.” I lean back against the table and cross my arms. “We still need to get on to the next steps before the magic wears off and you start shedding gobs of flesh again.”
She scratches her neck. “After we complete all the steps, will I …? Do you think …?” She curses under her breath. “Will I still want to eat brains?”
I sort of feel bad for the zombie as I reply, “No, that’ll probably never go away.”
Her expression sinks. “Okay.” She rubs her hand across her face, leaving smeared blood all over her cheek. “I guess things could be worse, right?”
The strangest and most uncomfortable sensation surfaces inside me. “I guess so.”
Feeling far too uneasy, I turn around and pour myself another glass of whiskey, hoping to erase the feeling.
What the hell is wrong with me? Why do I feel so … unsettled?
“Max, are you okay?” she asks, moving up behind me. “You seem sort of, I don’t know, squirrely.”
What the hell of all crazy demon bats? Did she just compare me to a squirrel? Those stupid creatures that eat their own nuts or whatever?
I glance over my shoulder at her and arch a brow. “You’re comparing me to a squirrel?”
She snorts a laugh, her nose crinkling. The move throws me off again. So she can cry and laugh? What a strange little zombie hybrid.
“No, that’s not what I meant,” she says. “It’s just a term witches and wizards use sometimes to describe someone who seems uneasy.”
“It seems like a ridiculous term if you ask me.”
“Well, no one asked you, did they?” Her amused smirk almost makes me smile.
“Well, they should.” I grin. “After all, my opinion is the most important opinion that’s ever existed.”
She rolls her eyes. “Are all demons this arrogant?”
I wink at her. “Only the ones who have something to be arrogant about.”
When she rolls her eyes again, I grin, the heaviness that had settled over me starting to lighten.
Thank the higher demons. The pits of Hell must’ve temporary fucked with my head.
Setting the bottle of whiskey down, I start toward the doorway. “Come on, my little zombie pet. Let’s get going before you end up turning into a bag of bones and flesh.”
She hurries after me. “Where are we going, anyway?”
I stuff my hands into my pockets. “To the Afterlife.”
She grinds to a screeching halt just in front of
the doorway. “You’re taking me to the Land of Death?”
“It’s part of the next step.” I shrug, facing her. “What’s the big deal? You’ll probably fit right in.”
Hurt shimmers in her eyes. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
That foreign uneasiness creeps up inside me again, and I find myself patting her arm in an attempt to comfort her. “It’s not as bad as it seems. Being dead, I mean. A lot of creatures are considered dead. Some even consider demons as part of the dead species, mostly because our souls are pretty much dead.”
Her wide eyes zone in on my hand on her arm. “Um, thanks?” Confusion fills her eyes.
I jerk back. What the stupid demons am I doing? Since when do I try to comfort other creatures? Again, I should say, since I’ve done it once before when I cupped her cheek earlier.
“Whatever. Let’s just get going.”
She nods, then we start out of the room and down the hallway, heading for the front entrance of my lair. Neither of us speak. And I’m glad. The last thing I want to do is engage in another conversation that’ll bring me to do something stupid again, like tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear and tell her everything will be okay.
Crazy demons, I’m losing my damn mind.
“Hey, Max,” Ryleigh breaks the silence. “Thanks for helping with this. I really appreciate it.” She stares down at the dirt as we walk. “If I hadn’t met you, I’m pretty sure my hands would’ve been stained with murder and brains by now.”
I internally grimace, realizing what’s causing that unfamiliar uneasiness currently taking over my emotions.
Guilt.
Yep, I, Max, a demon who’s never felt bad for any of the awful things I’ve done, which are a lot of things, feels guilty over lying to a zombie and promising to hand her over to the Queen of Hell.
Feels guilty.
Guilty.
Well, isn’t this fucking ridiculous? Guilty? I feel guilty?
