Grave Dance (Alex Craft, #2)(15)

“Come in,” I cal ed, shocked by how breathless my voice sounded.

The door opened, and Caleb bustled in. “Hey, Al, I wanted you—” He stopped. “Is this a bad time?”

“No, I, uh—” I swal owed, wondering what this must look like to Caleb. He couldn’t see Death, so from his point of view, I looked like I was alone in my apartment, backed against my counter for no particular reason. I glanced at Death, and he stepped away, giving me space.

“Later,” he whispered, smoothing a curl behind my ear.

Then he vanished.

Later . . . I shook my head and tried to wipe away the goofy smile I felt spreading across my face.

“How is Hol y?” I asked, pushing away from the counter.

PC, who’d jumped off the bed as soon as the door opened, pawed at Caleb’s leg. My housemate smiled at the smal dog and knelt to give the top of his head a good rub.

“Sleeping,” he said as PC lathered his hand in dog kisses.

“She left very early this morning and returned a little after dawn. Did she mention anything last night about having to go somewhere?”

I shook my head. She shouldn’t have been leaving in the middle of the night.

I was halfway across the room when my throat tightened and a hiccup hit me like a punch in the chest. My voice broke with an undignified croak at the force of the hiccup.

“I—” Another hiccup hit me, cutting off my words.

“You okay, Al?” Caleb asked, his brows drawing together.

“Yeah, I’l ”— hiccup—“get ”— hiccup—“water.”

I grabbed a glass, nearly dropping it as another hiccup shook me. Caleb took the glass from me, and two more hiccups, each worse than the last, hit back to back. A hiccups, each worse than the last, hit back to back. A burning ache spread across my chest. I covered my mouth with my fingers, as if I could stop the sound and thus the pain.

Caleb held the glass—now fil ed halfway with tap water—

out to me. When I reached for it, the charms on my bracelet clinked and twinkled.

The charm.

Caleb looked like a sandy-haired col ege quarterback, but he was fae, his boy-next-door facade a glamour. And I created a charm to warn me of glamour.

I snatched off the charm bracelet. As soon as it lost contact with my skin, the hiccups stopped and my chest stil ed.

I frowned at the bracelet and the little wooden charm I’d created. Some warning.

I hadn’t considered instal ing an off switch in the charm, so it was either try to convince Caleb to drop his glamour or go without my charms until he left. With a sigh, I shoved the bracelet in my pocket. My house wards blocked grave essence, so it wasn’t like I needed the extra shields the charm bracelet provided.

“Better now?” Caleb asked as I took a long sip of water.

The cool liquid felt good in my aching throat and I nodded, but I didn’t thank him. You didn’t thank fae. Or apologize. Or in any way acknowledge a debt, for that matter. So I smiled and hoped he understood my appreciation.

“Okay, then,” he said. “I’d like you to meet a friend of mine.”

That was al the warning he gave before he opened the door separating my apartment from the main house. An al -

too-familiar figure marched into my room, his back curved and his knees bent.

I did a double take, and PC ducked under the bed. Just the tip of his black nose showed under the bedskirt as he growled at the fae I’d first met in the floodplain. Smart dog.

growled at the fae I’d first met in the floodplain. Smart dog.

“Caleb, what is he—”

“Alex, this is Malik, a friend of mine.”

Friend? I frowned. Caleb had always had my best interests in the past, but . . . I trusted Caleb. That didn’t mean I trusted his friends.

“You’re not welcome here,” I said, lifting my gaze to meet the large, unblinking eyes of the strange fae. He’d threatened me, and I’d seen him in the Quarter directly before the construct attack. Coincidence? I doubted it.

Malik’s thin lips tugged downward and he glanced at Caleb.

“Hear him out, Al.”

I shook my head. “You’re wanted by the police, Malik. I suggest you leave. Now.” I grabbed my phone off the counter where it was plugged in, charging. Malik was a person of interest wanted for questioning in connection with the feet found in the floodplain. John would want to know he was standing in my apartment.

I pressed the button to wake the phone, but the screen didn’t light up. Damn. The phone was off, shut down to avoid reporters. I held the power button and headed for the main door. I jerked it open, letting the morning light stream in as I waited for the phone to power on. Either Malik would walk through that door, leaving me in peace to cal the police, or I’d flee my own room. Escape plans were a plus.

“Alex,” Caleb said, stepping between Malik and me.

“Please, listen to what he has to say.”

I gaped at Caleb. Fae don’t say please, just like they don’t thank you or apologize. Words had power and al of those words acknowledged a debt. Debts with fae were binding.

“Please,” he said again, and I felt the imbalance hanging in the air between us. If I did as he asked, he’d be indebted to me. Not that I wanted that, but in al the years I’d lived in his house, he’d never once said please. The fact that my hearing Malik out was worth Caleb’s indebting himself to hearing Malik out was worth Caleb’s indebting himself to me meant that whatever the other fae had to say was important.