Magical Whispers & the Undead

  Peyton shakes her head. “No … She can’t … I don’t …” She turns away with her head lowered. “Goddammit, Eva, why’d you have to go and get yourself killed? You’re, like, the only witch I was ever able to stand.”

  “Tell Eva to hold on,” I beg Rowan. “You’re the Ghost Breather, right? Tell her to hang on until we save her.” Tears burn my eyes. I’ve never been much of a crier, but I can’t fight them back no matter how hard I try.

  I can’t lose her yet.

  I can’t lose her at all.

  I’m so sorry for lying to you, Eva. I should’ve told you the truth a long time ago.

  “Her ghost isn’t here,” Rowan whispers apologetically. “She’s probably already heading toward the Afterlife.” She presses her lips together. “I’m so sorry.”

  Shaking my head, I cup Eva’s ice-cold cheek. “Eva, please don’t leave me.”

  Nothing but silence. Not even the whisper of a breeze.

  “Please,” I whisper, begging. “I can’t lose you. I need you, okay? I’ve needed you since the day I met you. You’re the only witch in my life I can stand anymore. Everyone else … my family … There’s so much you don’t know. I should’ve told you. If you come back, I’ll tell you everything. Please, just come back.”

  I restlessly wait for a sign that Eva is here, that she can hear me. But silence crushes my soul.

  Perhaps that’s why I do what I do next. Perhaps the pain is too much and I lose my damn mind.

  Or maybe I’m thinking clearly for the first time in my life.

  Shifting Eva into one arm, I retrieve my wand from my pocket.

  Peyton turns around and frowns at me. “What’re you doing?”

  “What I should’ve done the moment she died.” I raise my wand, my hand trembling. “I’m going to bind her soul to mine. That way, she can’t die until I do.”

  “That sounds like a pretty easy solution.” Peyton’s frown deepens. “Too easy.”

  “That’s because he’s sugarcoating it.” Rowan wraps her arms tightly around herself. “He’s not just binding her soul to his. He’s binding his soul to hers, as well. Which means, if she dies, so does he. And it’s black magic, so a lot could go wrong. You could both end up soulless, or your souls could end up tainted by darkness. It’s a really risky spell.”

  I already know all this. That’s why I was hesitant to perform the spell. But if I have to choose between losing Evalee or losing my soul, I choose the latter.

  “How the hell do you know so much about black magic?” I ask Rowan suspiciously. “I thought you were a Ghost Breather?”

  “Let’s just say I have a connection to the witch world and know a thing or two about black magic.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear as the wind kicks up. “You shouldn’t do it. It’s too dangerous.”

  “I know the risks, and I’m willing to take them.” I move my wand toward Evalee’s forehead.

  “Are you sure this is a good idea?” Peyton asks warily. “I mean, what if Eva returns, but she’s like soulless or some shit like that? She won’t even be Eva.”

  “If she loses her soul, we’ll get it back. This is just to buy her some time.” And if I lose my soul, I know Eva will do the same for me.

  Hybrid-demon or not, Eva is the kindest and most caring creature I’ve ever met. After she lost Ryleigh, she spent countless hours trying to put together a spell to save her. Every time I’ve been sick, she’s taken care of me. And on some of the worst and darkest days of my life, she helped me hang on to the light, even if she didn’t know she was helping. She should’ve known, though, because I should’ve told her. I should’ve told her the truth about herself, about the society, and about the shit my father put me through.

  When I get her back, no more lying.

  My hand shakes as I part my lips, uttering a forbidden spell in the witches’ world. Magic begins to spark from the tip of my wand. With each word I utter, my heartrate quickens, a combination of fear and relief racing through me.

  “Please let it work,” I whisper when I finish the spell.

  Evalee remains lifeless in my arms, her chest not moving, her skin pallid and cold.

  “Fuck!” I cry out. Why didn’t it work? What did I do wrong?

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Rowan suddenly snaps as she backs away, staring at the railing in front of me. “I told you never to visit me again!” Silence fills the air, and then Rowan pales as her gaze drifts to me. “The Grim Reaper’s here.”

  “What?” Peyton and I say simultaneously.

  “Why?” I ask, fearing the answer, worried Death’s presence has to do with the black magic spell I just cast.

  Rowan lowers her head and pinches the brim of her nose. “Your spell worked, Hunter. Eva gets to live again, but there are consequences, just like I said there probably would be.”

  I swallow hard. “What are they?”

  Rowan’s hand falls to her side as she meets my gaze. “Since the Grim Reaper was about to take Eva’s soul when you cast the spell, he now gets yours instead. You won’t die, but you’re going to be, well, you know, one of the Soulless.”

  My heart misses a beat. No, it fucking stops. The Soulless are creatures that live up to their names, raising havoc wherever they can without ever caring about who they hurt. They’ve done awful things to the townspeople before, and now I’m supposed to be one of these monsters. The only positive side of the situation is that Eva will live.

  I could try to make a deal, try to reverse the spell, but then what? Eva dies and the Grim Reaper gets her soul?

  No, I can’t do that. All I can do is hope we can figure out a way to get my soul back. Until then, I’ll have to try to hang on to my humanity.

  “When is it going to happen—”

  A searing pain rips through my chest and I gasp.

  Warmth spills from my body, leaving a mist of eerie calmness behind. Then that calmness quickly turns to restlessness, a hunger emerging inside me.

  A hunger to hurt someone.

  9

  Evalee

  When I decided I wanted to live, I never expected it to be under these circumstances. Never expected the Grim Reaper to abruptly stop sucking my soul from my lips, and then drag me away to Hunter, Peyton, and a girl I’m pretty sure I’ve never met before.

  “Hunter?” I blink up at the gorgeous wizard that I once thought was my best friend.

  His eyes, that usually carry such warmth, are void of emotion, chilled with icy stillness.

  He sweeps his chin-length, blond hair out of his eyes. “In the flesh.”

  I prop up on my elbows and peer around. Peyton is standing beside me, worriedly chewing on her thumbnail, more nervous than I’ve ever seen her. Next to her is the girl I don’t know. She’s around my age with long white hair and silver eyes that are almost as strange-looking as my freaky rainbow eyes. From the bits and pieces I picked up on after the Grim Reaper hauled me here, she’s the Ghost Breather. She knew the Grim Reaper, too, and didn’t seem very pleased about him just showing up on the front steps of what I assume is her house. Then again, would anyone really be happy if Death literally showed up on their doorstep?

  I brush strands of hair out of my eyes as I push to my feet and assess Hunter. I know what happened. That he cast a black magic spell to bind my soul to his, and now his soul belongs to the reaper who I can no longer see. But I don’t want to believe it.

  “Are you okay?” I tentatively stretch my arm toward Hunter.

  As my fingers almost reach his cheek, his hand darts up and his fingers touch my wrist.

  “If you’re going to touch me, you better plan on fucking me.” He jerks on my arm, causing me to stumble against him. Then he dips his lips toward my ear. “Come on, Eva; spread those pretty legs for me,” he taunts, “so I can fuck you senseless. Or would you prefer to go fuck that demon? Might be better if you do. After all, you’re a demon and I’m a powerful wizard who’s way too good for you.”

  Tears veil my vision a
s I shove him back. “Knock it off, Hunter. I know this isn’t you.”

  He laughs darkly as he retrieves his wand. “But it is. I’ve been pretending the whole time, so get used to it.”

  “Hunter, please don’t do this,” I beg. “Please don’t—”

  As sparks shoot from the tip of his wand, a cloud of smoke rises from the ground and sweeps him away.

  “Crap.” I trot down the steps and quickly stride toward the sidewalk.

  “Eva, where are you going?” Peyton shouts, rushing after me.

  I quicken my pace to a jog, wobbling in the platform shoes I’m wearing. “To find Hunter before he does something stupid.” I veer up the sidewalk and race in the direction of the bad section of town, figuring that’s the best place to start looking for him. “And don’t try to talk me out of it. I know you’re not a fan of him, but he saved my life, and now I’m going to save his.”

  Hunter is only in this mess because of me. He did black magic, something he hates and that is forbidden, to save me. And now he’s a Soulless, the Hunter I cared for completely gone.

  No, he’s not! Somehow, I’m going to save him.

  “I’m not going to try to talk you out of it!” Peyton snags the back of my dress and pulls me to a stop. “But you can’t just run around like a zombie with her head cut off with no real plan. Plus, you have a shit-ton of demons looking for you.” She turns me to face her. “If you want to find a Soulless, we need to make a plan. One that will help us find Hunter and keep the demons away from you.”

  “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?