Something Strange and Deadly (Something Strange and Deadly #1)(87)

Spirit.

The cold from moments before. It was the spirit, and it had filled my brother’s corpse. It was the only explanation.

I heaved the shovel up and turned back to Elijah. He was grinning.

“That’s a bad idea.” He clucked his tongue and wagged a single finger. “Drop the shovel or I’ll kill you.

“No.” I foisted the shovel high. “E-even if you wear my brother’s body, I’ll beat your skull in.”

He chuckled and opened his hands. “I very much doubt that, Mamzèi.” In a flurry of movement too fast for me to react, my brother’s corpse slithered to me and slung the shovel from my hand. His speed was incredible, and I tripped backward.

He gripped my shirt before I could fall, and with no effort, he dragged me to the base of the marble tombstone. He slammed me against it and pinned me there.

I kicked and punched, but it was like beating a statue. It hurt me more than him.

He brought his face close to mine, his yellow eyes glowing. Blood sputtered from his neck and sprayed my face. It was as frozen as his touch.

“Where is Joseph?” he demanded.

I stopped struggling. “What? Joseph?”

“Wi. Joseph.” He spoke the name so fiercely that spittle flew from his mouth like shards of ice and stabbed into my skin. “He and I have unfinished business, and I intend to settle it.”

I gasped. “You’re Marcus. From New Orleans.”

“Wi,” Marcus purred in my ear. His breath was damp and frosty. “Joseph stopped me then, but he could not stop me forever. Death only made me stronger, chéri. Aware. Joseph and his ridiculous Spirit-Hunters don’t stand a chance.”

I swallowed back my revulsion. He stank, like blood and sweat and grave dirt, like corruption and decay.

“Joseph will kill you,” I croaked. “You’ve taken my brother’s body, and I swear I will take it back. We will send you to the hottest flames in hell to rot for eternity—”

He slapped me hard, and my head snapped to the side. Blinding stars swam through my vision.

“Somehow,” I rasped, blinking back unbidden tears, “you will die and never see daylight—”

He grasped my neck with both hands, squeezing and cutting off my words.

The world blurred, and no air came into my lungs. I strained to reach his neck, to claw at his gaping wound, but he merely straightened his arms—his reach was longer than mine.

I couldn’t breathe. I needed air.

I grabbed his left pinkie and yanked it back as far as it would go. I felt the snap of his knuckle, and then I heard Elijah—no, Marcus—shriek.

His grip released and air slid down my throat. Before he could choke me again, I thrust out my leg and connected with the side of his knee. He howled again, and his face twisted with rage.

I scrambled away from him, but he clutched at my hair and yanked me back. Salty tears burned my eyes.

Then an explosion cracked through the morning air.

Marcus spun toward the sound, hauling me with him. It had come from the river. “So Joseph is that way. Perfect.”

Marcus tugged me close, his cold breath rolling over me. “The Hungry come, and I think I will leave you as bait... a distraction, if you will. But first I will take the grimoire.” He shoved his hands into my pockets, but they were empty.

He gave a strangled cry. “Where is it?” he growled. He glanced in the river’s direction, and I followed his gaze. Someone was running, and just behind was a pack of rabid Dead.

“I don’t have it.” I breathed a weak laugh. “It’s gone.”

“Liar. Your brother had it just before his death—I saw it! If you don’t tell me where—”

I spat in his face, satisfied to see it dribble down his cheek.

His fist connected with my chin. The world flashed with black. I tottered backward. Marcus shoved me, and I fell into the open grave.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

I lay on my back on the lid of my father’s coffin, the glowing sky above me. The ground shook, dirt rattling beside me. Pain welled from my jaw and cheeks, and my vision swirled with spots and clouds.

My death was approaching. The corpses were coming in a great stampede to kill me. Despite the dizziness, I pushed myself up and drew my legs in to stand. I could hear the clamor of their rancid feet, but I wasn’t ready to die. I supposed I never would be.

A body hit the coffin lid. Daniel—it was Daniel. He threw himself on me and shoved me down.

“Don’t move,” he said, draping his arms around me.

My ears filled with the roar of dy***ite, and the earth quaked. Gray flesh and maggots and soil rained around me, though not on me. Daniel kept me safe.

Then came silence, but it was the thick silence that follows pandemonium. The air still vibrated from the explosion.

Daniel moved back. “Empress—oh God.” His hands came to my face, and he wiped at my eyes. I hadn’t even realized I was crying. “You’re cut all over... is anything broken? Can you stand? Eleanor, look at me.”

“I think.” My voice cracked, but with the movement of my vocal cords, some of my dizziness dispersed. “Yes, I can stand.”

Daniel slid his hand to the small of my back and helped me rise. His face was smeared with mud and blood and sweat, but his eyes were as sharp as ever. “Where’d your brother go?”