spasm of pain. And being electrocuted to death hurt. An agonizing pain pulsated through me, attacking my nervous system until the boy breathed his last breath and his nervous system shut down.
I felt a hand on my arm. I pushed it away and stumbled to my feet, reeling from that experience when another boy reached out to help me.
Same day.
Same storm.
Same utter chaos.
Different death.
I jerked away from him and into a girl. I now had an audience. Students surrounded me, and every one
I touched died.
Same day.
Same storm.
Same utter chaos.
Different death.
One after the other until I finally lunged into the bathroom and locked myself in a stall. The shock of each death shuddered through me as I heaved my lunch into the toilet. When the spasms eased, I spit out the sour taste and tried to clear my head. To understand what I was seeing.
Something changed. Something happened in the last few minutes that altered the fates of every kid at school. But they were in different places. On the water. In a storm shelter. In Town Hall. Fleeing the country in a chartered Leer jet. And it wasn’t just them. It was their brothers and sisters, their parents and friends. In exactly seven days, everyone in the city of Bangor, Maine, was going to die. But somehow, I didn’t think it would stop there.
Something was different. What could have—
Then it hit me. The boy. The tug at my coat. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a note. It was the third one I’d received in quite the same manner. Stuffed into the pocket of my jacket when I wasn’t looking.
Dread consumed me as I opened it. This one had a stick figure drawing of two people, a boy and a girl.
The girl—who I was going to assume was me since she had garishly red curly hair—was lying on the ground, presumably dead. Blood pooled on her chest and sat in puddles around her head and torso. The boy clutched a knife in his three-fingered hand, but he was leaning over her. Over me. And a darkness was leaving her mouth and entering his. Like he wanted what was inside me. Like he welcomed it.
And somehow he knew. When I was six years old, I had been possessed by a demon. A demon that was still inside me. But no one here knew that. How could they? And yet this boy did.
Five words made up the text of the note. I read them over and over in disbelief. Fear darkened the edges of my periphery. Five words. Five words that had the power to make the darkness inside me quake and buck inside my body. Five words that would change the fate of the world. Five words that read simply,
ALSO BY DARYNDA JONES
Death and the Girl Next Door
Fourth Grave Beneath My Feet
Third Grave Dead Ahead
Second Grave on the Left
First Grave on the Right
Praise for
“Unique, witty, and touching—I LOVED THIS BOOK!”
—P. C. Cast,
“This book will keep you hungry for more from beginning to finish! You’ll know enough to follow the story, but very little is given away throughout the novel, to keep readers constantly guessing. What a tease! If you’re a fan of romance and fantasy, you’ll definitely enjoy this
book!”
—Miss Literati
“Outrageously funny, sinfully sexy, with a cast of characters that steals your heart from the very first page … I loved this book!”
—Inara Scott, author of the Delcroix Academy series
“She hits plenty of buttons: impossibly handsome boys, supernatural powers, hot romance, friendship, school rivalries, suspense, and comedy.”
—
“
—Gwen Hayes, author of
“Only Darynda Jones could make the Angel of Death crush-worthy! Wickedly sharp with brilliant wit,
—Lara Chapman, author of
“The delightful Jones makes a smooth transition to YA in this really fun read. Her kicky dialogue and great characters are super entertaining,
and the story unfolds with some surprising twists. Add in some laugh-out-loud moments, a hot hero, and a satisfying but cliff-hanger-y ending
and you’ve got a hit.”
—
“Snapping with sarcasm and a pitch-perfect voice, Darynda Jones has brought her signature humor and supernatural sass to Riley High. Trust
me, there’s nothing grim about this reaper!”
—Roxanne St. Claire,
