Graveminder

She stepped back and looked into Charles’ eyes. “If you don’t help me so he can come back right, I’ll let him come back as Hungry Dead.”

“Alicia ...”

“No. I do everything asked of me. I am ... this , here”—she made a sweeping gesture at the storefronts along the streets in the land of the dead—“as your Graveminder, without choice. I accepted it. I did as you asked, as my aunt asked when she designated me as her heir. All I ever wanted was a family and ...” Tears started to slide down her cheeks again. “He’s my son .”

“I’m sorry,” Charles said.

“No. The rules are that we are safe until eighty years. Brendan was just a child. He was to be safe.”

“Accidents are not within my control. Poverty, accidents, murders, fire, these I cannot stop.” Charles knew that the particulars weren’t all remembered. The contract he had with Claysville wasn’t a written document. They’d been too afraid of outsiders learning of it, of bringing witchcraft persecutions to Claysville.

“I am sorry for your loss.” Charles reached out, but she moved away. He watched her, knew her with the same certainty that he’d known every Graveminder since the first, Abigail. They were strong, not afraid to test the rules that didn’t make sense to them. Life and Death, all in the hands of these women. He was only Death. He’d tried to give life back once.

For Abigail.

And the results had been disastrous.

“There has to be something ... Please?”

“I cannot return his life,” Charles told her. “And if you do this thing, you’ll be dead by the next day. I can promise you that. You keep the dead from walking, Alicia. You do not ever invite them to return.”

“I hate you.”

“I understand.” He nodded. “If you wish, you can spend eternity taking it out on me, but if you do this, you will be sentencing yourself and your Undertaker to die.”

Despite every bit of common sense, Charles still regretted his choice. Hurting Alicia—hurting any of his Graveminders—wasn’t something he did lightly. If he could’ve given Alicia her child with impunity, he would’ve, but he was bound by rules. He’d broken those rules for Abigail, a mortal who had opened a gate to the land of the dead.

And look where that’s landed us.

Chapter 35

BYRON WAS GRATEFUL THAT REBEKKAH HAD BEEN SILENT AS THEY’D LEFT the land of the dead. His relief at seeing her unharmed vied with a fury that she’d been in the land of the dead alone. Charlie arranged that , Byron reminded himself. Unfortunately, he was also aware that Charlie couldn’t have arranged it if Rebekkah hadn’t let go of his hand: she was so entranced by what she’d seen there that she’d stepped away from him.

The world she seemed to see was unlike the one he’d experienced, and now, even as she stayed at his side, she was lost in thoughts he wasn’t privy to. He’d known that her experience there would differ from his, but he hadn’t thought about what that meant. He had absolutely no desire to step foot there again.

Except for the need to keep Rebekkah safe.

He considered the possibility of opening the gate and simply shoving the dead into the tunnel, but the image of tossing the dead girl—Daisha—into a tunnel without walking her into the land of the dead made him feel like a criminal. Good men didn’t abduct people. Good men didn’t truss them up and throw them into hidden chambers.

Daisha is dead. The girl is dead already.

The warnings his father had shared had sounded far less challenging at the time. The monsters need to be stopped. The dead girl had bitten a child, had injured William, had killed Maylene.

This time, Rebekkah kept her fingers laced with his as they stepped back into the storage room, so he used only one hand as he closed the cabinet and hid the tunnel. The room felt different the moment the tunnel was out of sight, as if removing the visual temptation of it changed the threat.

It doesn’t.

He’d seen Rebekkah’s face when she stood on the balcony looking out over the city of the dead. She was afraid, but underneath the fear, she was enamored. Her cheeks had been flushed, and her eyes had glimmered like she had a fever. For a chest-tightening moment, he’d wondered if that’s what Ella had looked like when she’d gazed out at the land of the dead. He might not understand it, but something they’d seen there had been alluring enough to cause Ella to rush to the end of her life.

Will Rebekkah do the same thing?

With carefully controlled movements, he lowered the duffel bag of supplies from Alicia to the floor and kept his voice even as he asked, “What happened to your clothes?”

Still holding his hand, she turned away from the cabinet and blinked at him. The gown that was gray in the land of the dead was suddenly vibrant in the world of the living. The rich green fabric stood out in the sterile steel and muted tones of the storage room.

“Bullets. Blood.” She put her free hand against her side. “Just a graze. Charles kept me safe. It doesn’t even hurt now.”

Byron paused at the familiarity in her tone. His opinion of Charlie was far from a positive one, but Rebekkah seemed to think differently. Their entire experiences of the land of the dead were dissimilar. It added to Byron’s dislike of the place. All he said, however, was, “I don’t trust him, but I’m glad he protected you.”

“Me, too.” She took her hand away from her side. “I feel fine, but if he hadn’t ...”

“He kept the bullets from you. That’s what matters. If he hadn’t trapped me in the tunnel—” He stopped himself. “I can look at the injury if you want.”

“Really, I’m okay.” Her eyes widened briefly. “It should still hurt. It did when I was over there, but now”—she put a hand on her side—“it’s ... fine.” She looked into his eyes. “It’s gone.”

He wasn’t sure whether he was alarmed that the injury seemed to be tied to her time in the land of the dead or grateful that her pain was gone. Would it return when she went back there? Or had it truly healed by passing through the tunnel? As with so much else, there were more questions than answers. Obviously, things could cross between the two worlds. If not, Alicia wouldn’t be making requests of him.

Byron tried to keep the worry from his voice as he said, “It’s probably a good idea to look at the wound.”

“Right ... but I’m not wearing underwear under this, so that means it’ll wait till elsewhere or I’m going to need to get naked.” Rebekkah plucked at the skirt. “ All of my clothes were ruined.”

“Oh.” The thought of Rebekkah injured was briefly replaced by the idea of Rebekkah vulnerable in Charlie’s bed.

He was just trying to provoke me when he said that. She wouldn’t . Would she?

Byron wasn’t sure what had actually happened, and he wasn’t sure that he wanted to ask just then, wasn’t sure he could handle knowing. Instead, he said, “You’re not in danger from me, Bek. I can be professional. If you’d prefer, I can ask Elaine to look—”

“No.” Rebekkah shuddered. “She’d probably make me lie on the prep table.”

Byron smiled a little at Rebekkah’s attempt to lighten the mood. “Be nice.”

“Anyone that efficient isn’t going to be gentle.”

Byron pulled open the utility closet where he’d stored extra clothes since he’d moved back. He reached inside and grabbed a few things, shoving most of them into the bag Alicia had given him. “ I can