Grave Dance

by Kalayna Price

Page 45

  Author: Kalayna Price

  “What should I do?” I whispered the question around the lump clogging my throat.

  Caleb was silent for a long moment before saying, “Good luck. ” Then he disconnected.

  Chapter 24

  I paced around Falin’s apartment, my shins occasionally scraping this odd bit or my hands hitting that one. It was a good thing he didn’t have much furniture.

  I still clutched my phone, but I had no one left to call. Holly wasn’t answering, Caleb was on his way to Faerie, and Tamara’s phone was off, presumably because she was sleeping.

  “What do I do now?” I asked the darkness hanging over my eyes.

  As if in answer, a loud metallic groan cried out behind me. I turned slowly, trying to identify the sound, but the only thing I could compare it to was the scream of an overtaxed support beam. Maybe the building is settling? I wasn’t sure I wanted to be on the seventh floor if the building was making noises like that. Another creak sounded, this time followed by a loud pop.

  What are the chances this isn’t bad?

  I tore down my shields, blinking at the explosion of color and light as I saw the world through my psyche. I glanced around, orienting myself as best I could in the suddenly crumbling landscape. I was in front of the large sliding glass door that led out onto a balcony—a balcony currently groaning under the weight of two massive paws that led up to muscular legs as thick around as my torso and covered in tan fur. But though the fur suggested mammal, when the front legs landed, they were hairless and ended in talons, like a bird. Huge feathered wings beat the air, blocking the sun. Folding the sixteen-plus wingspan against its back, the beast hopped off the rail and ducked its massive eagle-shaped head under the base of the upstairs balcony.

  Gryphon.

  Or at least it looked like a gryphon. It was a magical construct, definitely. Its outline shifted slightly, its form slightly unreal, but where the other constructs had been misty outlines—this one looked more . . . congealed. I guess I found the missing souls.

  Now I wished they would leave again.

  The gryphon smashed one massive paw through the door. The glass shattered in an explosion of sound and shards of glittering shrapnel. I ducked, clutching my arms over my head, but the deadly part wasn’t the flying glass. It was the damn gryphon.

  It screeched as it tore at the metal support bar. That’s not going to hold it back for long. I glanced at the front door. I could run. Having to tear through the building would slow it down, but I was guessing it had another tracking charm tied to me. If I ran, it would find me, and who knew how many people would get hurt in the process? Plus, the damn thing could fly—if I left the building I’d make myself an easier target. At least inside the building it wouldn’t be able to swoop down on me.

  But I can’t just stand here.

  I pulled my dagger. It buzzed in my senses, excited about the prospect of being used. I frowned and glanced from it to the gryphon. I had a five-inch enchanted blade and it had talons as long as my forearm and reach to go with them. But it’s not real.

  But it wasn’t completely unreal either.

  I stumbled back as one giant taloned foot swiped at me. The creature shoved its arm all the way to the shoulder through the busted doorway, and in the part of my vision peering into the land of the dead, the mass of shimmering souls twisted. A face floated to the surface, a face caught in a never-ending scream, and one I recognized. The skimmer from the rift.

  I didn’t have time to stare. The gryphon stuck its head through the space where the sliding glass door had been, wriggling to get that taloned foot closer to me. Tell me it’s stuck.

  I’ve never been that lucky.

  It wriggled more, making enough room for its other foot. Damn. I looked down at the dagger in my hand again. That thing will tear me to pieces before I get anywhere near close enough to do damage. The dagger didn’t agree. I could feel that it thought we’d be fine. I wasn’t as confident, and I was the one with the rendable skin. The dagger wasn’t a good option. What else did I have?

  The skimmer’s face was still screaming silently as it stared out of the gryphon’s shoulder. Being able to see souls had always creeped me out. They were shimmery, full of light, and looked so tempting to touch. Typically a bad idea, but maybe . . .

  I reached into the creature with the part of me that touched the dead. There was more than just the skimmer in that congealed soul mist, but he was the one I could see, could focus on. Centering my magic on the little bit of the skimmer I could see, I pulled with my power.

  Souls don’t like the touch of the grave. It’s unnatural for them. They are what make a person alive, and the grave is for the dead. But these souls were already outside their bodies and more ghost than not. I pulled, pouring power into the effort. The unearthly wind of the land of the dead whipped around me, mail blew off the table and whirled around the room, the cushions on the couch rumpled, billowing in the onslaught, and the gryphon’s feathers quivered around its head. Still I pulled, and like warm saltwater taffy being tugged on, the soul peeled away from the rest of the soul mist.

  As the soul separated from the mass, the gryphon shrank, as if the construct couldn’t support its massive size with its diminished energy source. The gryphon shrinking was definitely good—except that it was now small enough to fit through the door.

  It hurtled forward, its talons grasping for me. I dove sideways, the air rushing out of me as I hit the ground. And people on TV make it look so easy. The skimmer soul I’d freed hovered in the air, looking confused as he blinked at me. Then his eyes landed on the gryphon and he screamed.

  “Don’t just scream. Help me. Distract it!”

  Shades have to obey me. Ghosts don’t and he didn’t.

  The gryphon was still large enough that it had trouble turning in the tight space in the small apartment, which bought me a couple of seconds. I used them. Thrusting with my power, I grabbed another soul in the mist. I wasn’t being picky. I just grabbed and heaved. I poured power into the mist, and another soul, this one an older woman I was pretty sure I’d seen at the morgue, jettisoned free.

  The gryphon shrank again. We were now the same height. Of course, it still had two long-taloned front legs and a razor-sharp beak, so it wasn’t exactly an even fight, but it was at least closer.

  It lunged at me, that sharp beak open as it screeched in rage. I dropped, intending to roll out of its way. Unfortunately, my coordination wasn’t quite up to the task. I ended up under the gryphon as its talons pierced the couch. The sharp claws on its back feet were dangerously close to my face, but the position did give me an unobstructed view of its belly.

  The dagger in my hand buzzed, urging me to move, and I thrust the enchanted blade into the soft skin under the gryphon’s rib cage. A shock ran up my arm as I encountered muscles harder to pierce than I’d expected, but the dagger sank to the hilt. “You don’t exist,” I told it, twisting the dagger to drive the blade deeper.

  The gryphon exploded into a cloud of shimmery soul mist. A copper disk the size of a dinner plate dropped onto my chest, knocking what little air I had left from my lungs. Coughing, I let my arm drop, barely managing to hold on to the dagger as my hand hit the carpet. Too close. Way too close.

  I rolled to my knees. My whole body felt like jelly as the spike of adrenaline drained from my muscles. It took me two tries to climb to my feet. I closed my shields.

  Nothing changed.

  I blinked. I’d expected to go blind again, but the Aetheric still swirled around me, the land of the dead showing me the world as ruins. But I wasn’t touching those worlds. The wind from the land of the dead had stopped cutting across my skin and whipping my hair into a frenzy and I couldn’t feel the Aetheric energy I saw swirling through the air.

  Okay, so I push my magic and I go blind and I push it more and I end up seeing but not touching other planes. I think I prefer it this w
ay. Though as I looked around I realized I wasn’t seeing the mortal realm at all. I was only seeing how it reflected in other planes of existence. That could get confusing.

  I brushed my hands against my rotted pants—I seriously hoped they weren’t that way in reality—and resheathed my dagger. When I looked up, the cloud of souls around me had thinned. The raver-collector moved silently across the room, gathering souls and sending them on their way.

  “I could have seriously used your help earlier. ” Like ten minutes earlier. Before the gryphon had almost taken me apart.

  She shrugged and tossed her bright orange dreadlocks over her shoulder as she snatched the soul of the woman I’d pulled free of the gryphon. “Didn’t know they were here earlier. ” She grabbed the skimmer. With a flick of her hand, he vanished. He’d been the last lingering soul.

  “Wait!”

  She glanced at me, lifting one arched eyebrow.

  “Can you tell Death I need to talk to him?”

  “Death?” She gave me a genuinely confused look.

  I cringed. Of course she wouldn’t know my nickname for Death. Damn him not telling me anything, not even his name. “You know, smoking-hot collector. Dreamy eyes. Easy smile. Favors faded jeans and tight black shirts. ”

  “And you call him Death?” She snorted a laugh, and the dreads snaking over her shoulders quivered as she shook her head. “Girl, you really are special. ”

  “Will you tell him I need to see him or not?”

  She cocked a hip forward, placing her hand on it. “I’m not a messenger. ” Her fingernails made soft thudding sounds as she drummed them against the bright orange PVC material. “And I’d rather he stay away. There are reasons for our laws. ”

  Laws? “Fine, then I’ll talk to you. ” I pushed myself upright. At my full height I was taller than she was, even with her wearing platform boots, but she didn’t look impressed. I hoped I was about to change that. “You have a rogue reaper on your hands. He’s jerking souls out of people who aren’t dying, and those same souls are showing up powering magical constructs. I want to know how to stop him. ”

  The haughty expression dropped off her face. Then, without a word, she vanished.