Grave Dance (Alex Craft, #2)(44)

Another raven dove for me, its talons aimed at my eyes. I ducked, and it got a claw ful of my hair instead, pul ing a clump out by the roots. I yelped, but the grounded raven was stil coming for me. I jabbed with my dagger again.

This time the bird vanished.

“There are too many of them,” I yel ed over the roar of wings as I scrambled to my feet.

“You have a suggestion?” Caleb asked, never pausing as he swung his mal et, knocking birds out of the air.

I didn’t.

Somewhere beside me a door opened, and I spun around. Falin staggered into the room, one arm pressed against his injured side but a large dagger clutched in his other hand.

“Get out of here,” I yel ed as soon as I saw him.

He didn’t retreat. His icy gaze took in the situation in one quick glance, and then landed on me. He hobbled forward, his breathing hard, pained, but the dagger in his hand cut through the air effortlessly. With every twitch of his wrist a bird vanished on his blade so that smal copper disks lined his path as he made his way toward me. It would have been his path as he made his way toward me. It would have been something to watch, if I hadn’t been fighting off the damn ravens myself.

My enchanted dagger buzzed merrily in my hand as I jabbed at the birds. I could feel it making suggestions in my muscles, trying to guide my arm, and I let it, but even with the dagger’s help, most of my jabs injured rather than dispel ed. Frustrated, I dropped my shields. I aimed for the knot of magic in the hazy forms instead of body parts, and the birds exploded into mist around my blade.

“Where did they come from?” Falin yel ed, more ravens dissolving as his dagger struck true again and again.

Caleb’s mal et took out two birds with one massive swing. “Like you don’t know.”

“Guys,” I huffed, but didn’t say anything else. My chest burned, my breathing came hard, and my arm ached from continual motion, but more birds poured in through the open front door.

A figure appeared in my peripheral vision. I swung around, anticipating seeing whoever had set the constructs on us. Instead I came face-to-face with Death.

His dark eyes went wide, as if he was surprised to see me, and in my own shock, I didn’t notice one of the birds diving close until it was inches from me. Death’s hand shot out, his fingers jabbing into the bird. He jerked, and the bird vanished. It didn’t dissolve like the ones Caleb, Falin, and I kil ed, but al trace that it had existed disappeared—except the disk that fel to the ground.

“You always have to interfere, don’t you?” said a voice behind him, and we both turned as a soul col ector—

dressed for a rave, in a bright orange tube top and a pair of white PVC hip-huggers—stepped forward.

She shook her head in disapproval, making her long dreadlocks swish. Then she strol ed forward, slashing through the birds with her orange talonlike nails. Another reaper, wearing al gray, fol owed close behind her, swinging his silver skul –topped cane through the birds.

swinging his silver skul –topped cane through the birds.

“Welcome to the party,” I muttered, aiming my own dagger at a construct that dove too close.

“Alex, down!” Falin yel ed, and a large hand slammed into my back, shoving me toward the floor.

I rol ed as hit I the ground, but with Caleb and Falin on one side and the col ectors on the other, I didn’t have anywhere to go. My rol ended with me on my back, staring straight up as three groups of ravens descended from different directions, al diving for the spot where I’d been.

Not that they stood a chance against the three col ectors and two fae. I covered my head as a shower of spel ed disks rained over me.

Then there was silence.

I pushed myself off the floor and looked around. The front door stil hung open, but no more dark shapes swooped through it. I clutched my dagger, waiting, watching, sure the reprieve would break at any moment. I think we al were.

But nothing happened, and I final y released the breath I’d been holding.

Caleb immediately rounded on Falin. “What did you do?”

“They weren’t after me,” Falin said, wincing and leaning against the wal . Fresh red blood dripped over his gloved hand where he pressed it against his side.

“Leave him alone,” I told Caleb as I stepped forward to help Falin. He needed to sit down, and I didn’t care what Caleb said—he needed a healer.

A hand on my arm stopped me, and I turned, ready to lay into Caleb for being overprotective. But it wasn’t Caleb; it was Death, and the look on his face kil ed any protest I might have raised.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, his hazel eyes scanning my face, my neck, my shoulders. He brushed aside my hair as if searching for any injury it might have hidden.

“I’m fine.” And I owed him and the other col ectors a debt of gratitude for that. We’d have been overwhelmed if they hadn’t appeared.

hadn’t appeared.

My gaze moved past him and I saw the other two col ectors gathering the mist hanging in the air from the vanished ravens. It dissipated slowly as they reached out again and again. Souls. How creepy is it that we’ve been trudging through souls? Not that the stuff looked like a person or a creature. Most souls I’d seen outside of a body stil looked like, wel , the original body.

“How does a soul turn into mist?”

“Not any way natural,” Death said, running his hands down my arms.