Kalayna Price - Grave Witch: An Alex Craft Novel

SHEER DANGER

High, piercing wails shook the air, and my hands flew up to cover my ears. What the

I stumbled back as the shade clawed free of the body. A gaseous head and shoulders emerged from the body bag. The screaming never dampened. Her face twisted, as if the agony of her death had reached beyond the grave.

Be quiet, I commanded the shade, but the wailing didnt drop in volume. I gritted my teeth. Okay, time for a different approach. Tell us your name.

The shade continued screaming. Her hands moved to her face and began digging at her eyes. I grabbed the vaporous wrists, tugging them down. She flailed in my grasp.

Alex? John stepped closer.

The edge of the circle trembled as he crossed it, and a shiver of power crawled down my skin. I held my breath, unsure whether the already weak circle would hold. It was meant to keep out magic, not John, who was a null and as magically dampened as could be. He probably didnt feel a thing. I felt the disturbance down to my bones.

I swayed, and the thrashing shade wrenched her wrist out of my grasp. She lashed out, her jagged nails slicing through the air like a scythe.

I jumped back. The crumbled cement under my boots shifted, throwing me off balance. John caught me before I hit the ground, and the shades next slash passed through him, grazing my shoulder.Three shallow trenches split open.

The hell? John flipped around to grab her.

A futile effort. His hand passed through her wrist.

ROC

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First published by Roc, an imprint of New American Library,

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Copyright Kalayna Price, 2010

All rights reserved

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ISBN: 1-101-46408-9

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To abi, whos bossy for a little brother, but who always pushes me to chase my dreams

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

A first draft of a book might be written in a vacuum, but the final project is far from a solitary endeavor. As such, there are a lot of people to whom I am in debt. There are not thanks enough in the world for these people.

Id like to thank my amazing agent, Lucienne Diver, who believed in my voice and my writing, and who got Alexs story out and into the right hands. I cannot express how grateful I am to my wonderful editor, Jessica Wade, who took the story and pushed me to make it the best it could possibly be. Special thanks to Aleta Rafton, who created the gorgeous cover art for the book, and to the team at Roc who helped create the final product.

A very important thank-you is due to my amazing critique group, the Modern Myth Makers. Christy, Nikki, Sarah, Vert, Vikki, this book wouldnt be here without your encouragement (and threats). I rely on you to tell me what works and what makes you want to throw a book across the room you dont disappoint. Thank you!

A special thanks to Meredith, SaBrina, Gail, and Matt, who helped me work out a schedule to juggle my writing and my day job.And thanks to the Cruxshadows, my musical inspiration who kept me company though many solitary writing hours. Of course, no thank-you is complete without acknowledging the amazing support of my family and my friends, who encourage me and put up with me. You know who you are, and I wouldnt be here today without you.

And last but by far not least, thank you, the reader holding this book. I hope you enjoy Alexs story!

Chapter 1

The first time I encountered Death, I hurled my mothers medical chart at him.As far as impressions went, I blew it, but I was five at the time, so he eventually forgave me. Some days I wished he hadntparticularly when we crossed paths on the job.

Ms. Craft, this is beyond unacceptable. Henry Bak er accented the statement with a plump fist slicing the air before his face. Behind him loomed Death.

Eighteen years of practice kept my gaze off the jeansclad soul collector and on my client, whose face darkened from cherry red to bruised purple. I fingered the spray of funeral lilies at my side, dreading the direction this conversation was taking.

Our contract stipulated I raise the shade. I did.

Baker swatted aside my protest. You promised me results.

I said you could ask your questions. I leaned against his fathers coffin. It wasnt exactly respectful, but Id just shoved the senior Bakers shade back into his body two hours before his funeral. Respect had nothing to do with this job. But hey, a paycheck is a paycheck.

Baker turned on his heel and stomped across the aisle. I waited. I knew what was coming. Baker was a fortune huntera failed one at thatand Id worked with his like before.

Death followed in Bakers wake. He exaggerated each heavy step, mocking the chubby mans jerky movements.

All the while, a grin clung to his lips, his dark eyes never leaving me.

This had better be a social visit. I met his gaze, pleading, warningI didnt care whichhim to leave my client alone. He flashed a row of perfectly straight teeth, which didnt tell me anything.

Baker continued to pace.

Well, best get this part over quickly. According to our contract, you can pay by cash, check, or money order. Will you need a receipt?