Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

MAR

W endy leaned down over the box, her hands on her thighs, a scowl of determination pronouncing her dark eyebrows. She pulled her silver-streaked auburn hair back in a ponytail and clicked the cats on the toes of her kitten toe flats together for luck the way she unconsciously did every time she was about to pick up a particularly ferocious feral kitten at the shelter.

“Nie,” Wendy said in her sternest voice. “Wake up.”

Would that be enough to do the trick? A simple command?

The head remained pale and motionless, lifelessly staring up at the ceiling.

“Does this usually take time to work?” Imogen asked. “I haven’t actually seen you reanimate anything bigger than a mouse before, Wendy.”

I hadn’t either.

“It’s immediate,” Rose said. “Or at least it was when she did it to me.”

Wendy frowned and scrubbed her hands over her face.

“That wasn’t reanimation though,” Imogen said. “It was more like commanding the already living undead, err, living kinda-dead? Either way, it’s different. But you have reanimated something bigger than a mouse—Licorice the raven. You’ve never purposefully reanimated a person before though, right?”

“No,” Wendy said, her skin growing pale.

She was as uncomfortable with all of this attention on her magic as I was having everyone in my living room.

“A head isn’t an entire person,” Andrew said.

Everyone snapped their attention to him.

“It could be easier,” he said with a slight lift of his shoulder.

Wendy said, “I think I’m going to need silence or you guys maybe go outside.”

“We’ll be quiet.” Rose nudged Imogen.

“Oh yes. Quiet as a ghost…but not like the ghosts I’ve met. Like a ghost is supposed to be.”

Wendy looked between the two of them.

Rose mimed zipping her mouth shut. Imogen nodded and silently mouthed me too .

Wendy turned her attention back to Nie and took a breath. “You will live. I want that. I wish for it. I command it.”

The air in the room suddenly felt ten degrees colder, dry, and electrically charged the way my socks always did when they came out of the dryer. I shivered. The little hairs on my arms stood on end.

The environmental shift sparked around the room, leaving everyone silent. No one moved. I held my breath and stared unblinkingly into the box, waiting for proof of Wendy’s inevitable magical success.

A clammy sheen spread over my palms, but I refused to move a single finger or else I could miss Nie’s awakening.

Seconds dragged past.

My eyes burned from lack of blinking.

Roots of doubt began to creep through my certainty. Nie had to wake.

Any moment now she would?—

“Ahh!” Imogen jumped, twisted, and scrambled onto a chair.

The sudden sound snapped me out of the spell. Rose blinked twice, hard.

As far as I could tell, Imogen’s reaction had nothing to do with Nie. Nie’s head remained completely lifeless.

“What is it?” Wendy asked Imogen.

Imogen pointed, arm shaking, toward the window.

A fluffy white shape waited on the other side of the glass, slowly chewing a mouthful of grass strands. The sky lit up behind the sheep, lightning crackling across thick clouds.

Wendy let out a huff and shook her head. “I swear, Imogen.”

“You know sheep are my weakness,” she said.

A little grateful for the break from the tension, I wiped my hands on my pants and rolled my shoulders. “Imogen, meet Gen.”

“No thank you,” Imogen said. “I already met that sheep. I don’t need to see it again. Ever.”

Her clear disgust very nearly made me smile.

Thunder boomed like a surprise party—unexpected, unwelcome, and far too loud. The house trembled in its wake.

Everyone waited, as if the floor could crack in two at any moment. But nothing notable happened.

“If we could get back to—” I stopped my sentence as Imogen and Wendy’s phones dinged in unison. Since the coven was all here, that could only mean one thing.

“Jayden needs help at the shelter,” Wendy said as she looked over her screen.

Because I’d left early, “sick.”

Now whatever had happened in my absence was going to fall to Wendy to deal with. Under any other circumstances I would feel guilty. But I had to be here.

Wendy, on the other hand, had done all she could for me.

“It’s all right,” I said. “Don’t feel bad for doing your job.”

She frowned, clearly conflicted.

It’s not like she knew how to use her necromancy magic, or if this idea was going to work anyway. I’d thought for a moment it had, but clearly I’d been mistaken.

“I can go,” Imogen offered. “Jayden and I can probably figure out how to deal with a flood by ourselves.”

A flood? That was serious, and required serious reinforcement to keep all of the animals safe while the situation was handled.

“You can both go,” I said. “I told Jayden I was sick, so I should stay.”

Rose took Andrew’s hand. “We can stay, too.”

“I’d rather Andrew get the lab work started than stand around,” I said.

There was nothing further for anyone to do here. The sooner Andrew started his tests, the sooner I’d have answers. Plus, socializing was draining.

More dings came through Imogen and Wendy’s phones.

“Pictures,” Imogen said, with wide eyes. “Oh no.”

I glanced at Imogen’s phone screen. It was full of photos of water spraying all over the dog room floor. There must have been a busted pipe.

I hated for this to happen to the shelter, ever, let alone while I had my own emergency. I wished I could help, but dealing with Nie’s murder had to come first for me.

I told them again, “Go.”

“Take as long as you need off work,” Wendy told me.

I nodded my agreement.

“Would it be okay to reach out to Brock about the grumpy people you denied pets? He could see if anyone has a history of murderous intent, totes on the down-low,” Imogen said. “That wouldn’t be too authority-involved, right? And it could maybe help.”

“Sure,” I said.

“I’ll work on gathering a list of potential jerkholes,” Wendy said. “As soon as we get the flooding under control.”

I needed to thank them. I needed to let them know that I appreciated their willingness to drop whatever they’d been doing to come to my aid. I struggled to form the words.

Wendy and Imogen smashed me in a terrible group hug before reluctantly heading out the door.

This entire ordeal had left me twitchy and exhausted. My tolerating-people-meter had long ago reached uncomfortable levels, and I was ready to be alone. Yet, after Wendy and Imogen were gone, Rose and Andrew lingered.

Rose said, “Someone killed your clone.”

“I noticed that,” I said.

“You could still be in danger,” she said.

“No more than Imogen or Wendy.” That may not have been entirely true, but there was no way for any of us to know. It was possible that whoever had killed Nie didn’t know about me, which would mean they would have no reason to come looking for me at all. I said, “The faster we get the magical toxicology results, the better.”

Andrew’s jaw twitched at my description. Apparently “magical toxicology” was not the correct term, but he was too polite to tell me so.

“I could stay,” Rose offered.

That option went against my desire for solitude and my aversion for relying on another person.

But, Rose was a revenant. She could throw cars. If there was anyone who could keep me safe from a physical threat, it was her. I was grateful she cared.

Maybe we could quietly sit in different rooms.

“If you insist. But without Wendy’s magic working, my only option moving forward…” A lump formed in my throat. “I’m going to have to touch Nie’s head.”

Rose’s brown eyes softened with understanding. “I’ll be outside if you need me.”

“Thanks.”

Andrew and Rose went outside and spoke for a few minutes before Andrew departed.

Alone, I stared down at Nie’s cracked lips and lifeless eyes.

A dull ache settled in my chest, a shadow of loss. Nie and I were pieces of each other, meant to fit together to form a whole, yet I hesitated to touch her. She’d changed me, and not necessarily for the better.

She’d made me…soft. I shivered at the thought of it.

I used to move through life with such certainty, but now I found myself pausing at the edge of this decision. It made no sense. There was only one possible action to take.

But it would be smart to get some context before I was struck with all of Nie’s memories, before being forced to relive dying. I’d done it before, and it was horrible. Zero stars. Would not recommend.

So, before I touched Nie and burdened myself with all of that trauma, it made sense to check my bank account first. I logged in on my phone and scanned through the numbers, recognizing every single one of the charges. That in and of itself was unsettling.

Half of the charges should have belonged to Nie.

If I’d have checked the account sooner, I would have known something was wrong. Maybe I could have found Nie before she’d died. Maybe I could have helped her and prevented this entire tragedy.

I took a breath and a moment to push away the hypotheticals. What was done was done. All I could do now was figure out who’d killed her, and make them pay.

Finally I spotted a charge I didn’t recognize.

There on the screen was the only clue in the digital receipts of our lives, a train ticket purchased October twenty-third at the Piccadilly station. Unfortunately, the charge didn’t offer further details.

“Where were you headed?” I asked Nie’s head, then cringed as my unintentional pun registered.

She was me, so where would I be headed? I’d always considered trains a charming form of transportation. It was possible she’d gone for the ride alone, or for a destination I, too, would be drawn to once I saw it listed at the station. I’d always wanted to visit the Crescent City area, with its unique blend of colorful supernatural celebration and its dark obsession with the macabre.

I pulled on a pair of combat boots, tied my hair into two messy buns, and threw on a warm coat. Then I looked once more at Nie’s head. I should touch it. I should gain her knowledge and go to the train station with every possible advantage.

My stomach twisted in knots.

What if Andrew missed something and needed to examine the head again but it was gone because I’d poofed it away?

The oversized messenger bag I used to haul my finds from the used bookstore sat by the door. It was perfect. It had a bunch of pockets where I could stash necessities without having to reach into the main compartment.

I grabbed the pair of thick work gloves I’d taken with me from the shelter. Usually they protected me from the teeth and claws of feral kittens. Now they’d protect Nie from me.

I lifted Nie and took a better look at the wound on her neck. The texture reminded me of pork jerky. While gross, it meant that Nie was dried out enough that I didn’t have to worry about any fluids leaking.

That was all I could stomach of that. I placed Nie into my messenger bag.

There. Now I could touch her if—when—I needed to, without making the mistake of doing it too soon.

I told myself I was being pragmatic instead of cowardly.

I told myself this was a calculated decision instead of an emotional one.

Clearly these were lies. But when my excuses wore thin, Nie would be by my side, ready. And I’d find her murderer…so long as he didn’t find me first.