The spell draining Death fizzled out of existence. He slumped forward, and I released the power channeling through me. I tried to climb to my feet, but all my limbs were numb, too heavy, too slow. A scream interrupted the sound of my teeth chattering.

Edana backed through the gap she'd opened, and the bubble I'd created moved with her. Layers of reality pushed aside, bunching around the tear. As they fell back into place, the already tenuous gap snapped closed, reality righting itself everywhere except the bubble I'd created around her.

Edana screamed again, still backing away. "No! What have you done? What have you done?"

The reaper dropped the whip, letting it fall to the gra.s.s as he ran toward her. "Love, what is it?" he asked and then stopped short three feet away. Right on the edge of the bubble.

He couldn't pa.s.s. His reality didn't exist around her.

He pounded on the empty air. "No! What's happening?"

As Edana lifted hands suddenly withered and liverspotted to her rapidly wrinkling face, I wondered the same thing. Before my eyes, she aged until her back bent and her skin turned paper thin around a skeletal frame. Then she crumbled, turning to dust.

I swallowed. I'd cut her off from all realities, all magics. Even Faerie. And changelings relied on Faerie's magic to keep their years from catching up with them. Soon all that was left of Edana was a dim, sickly yellow ghost standing in the middle of a dead spot. But the land of the dead didn't exist in the bubble, and her energy dissipated as she tried to retain a sense of herself.

Then she faded from sight.

"No!" the reaper yelled, still pushing on the bubble of reality. Then he spun around to face me. "You." His eyes were hard, fierce, and if I could have backed away, I would have. But my body still wasn't working.

The reaper stormed toward me, the air crackling around him. "You did this. You took her away from me." He lunged for me, his fist slamming into-and through-my chest wall.

"Alex!" Death jumped to his unsteady feet.

He wouldn't be fast enough. We both knew it. The other two collectors had finished off the dragon, but they were still too far away to get to me in time.

I stared at where the reaper's wrists disappeared into my sternum, knowing what would come next. He would pull my soul free and it would be over.

Then something flickered in the moonlight as it soared over my head. A fae-wrought blade buried itself in the reaper's chest. He blinked at it, as if he couldn't believe it, and his hand fell from me. Falin's dagger fell free as soon as the reaper released me and I stopped acting as a bridge between him and reality. But the damage was already done. Dark blood seeped from the chest wound, and the raver grabbed him from behind.

She wrapped her long fingers around his upper arms. "End of the line," she said, and they vanished.

Falin pulled me to my feet, and held me there when I would have fallen. "I've got you," he whispered. "Are you okay? Is he gone?"

I nodded, leaning into Falin. My soul might be a bit jarred, but I would make it. Death finally reached me, but the gray man grabbed his arm, pulling him back.

"She's fine," the gray man said. "I'll make certain of that, but in the meantime, you need to go." When Death would have protested, he shook his head. "Go."

Death frowned, his gaze moving to me again. Then he vanished.

The gray man strolled across the gra.s.s, collecting the half-dissolved souls of the late dancers. His roundabout route brought him directly in front of me, and he stared at me, whether studying or a.s.sessing, I wasn't sure.

"Remember this day. Remember this place," he said, sweeping a hand out to encompa.s.s the remains of the ritual. "This is why the two of you can never be." He stared at me for another long moment. Then he vanished.

The two of us? Death and me.

I frowned at the empty s.p.a.ce where he'd been for a long time until a rustling in the trees behind us caused Falin to turn, taking me with him. Kyran walked into the clearing, still carrying his hourgla.s.s, all the sand now in the bottom half.

"Brava, brava," he said, leaning the staff in the crook of his arm so he could offer an exaggerated clap. "I must say, I was a bit worried about the dragons at one point, but splendid job."

"You were watching the whole time?" I asked around my chattering teeth.

"But of course. I said I wouldn't miss it. Well, my dear, I believe we are about to get more company." He gave me a small bow. "Until you dream again."

He disappeared into the woods just as Holly stepped into the clearing. She carried PC under one arm and in her wake stormed several ABMU officers in full tactical gear.

I glanced around. Falin and I were the only ones left standing in a field of dark magic and bodies. How come when I end up in these situations, the bad guys have always disintegrated?

Chapter 39.

I sat in the middle of my bed, huddled under blankets. I hadnt spent a night in jail this time, which had shocked the h.e.l.l out of me considering that most of the witnesses to what had happened were soul collectors and not inclined to speak to the police. While I'd walked the detectives through a heavily edited version of the events surrounding Edana's ritual, I'd remembered Edana had owed me a debt. I might not have had to destroy her. Not that I'd meant to completely remove her from all planes-I'd needed to stop her. And I'd done that. But now I had more blood on my hands.

The explanation of what had happened had stretched my newfound inability to lie, so the police knew more than Faerie was likely to appreciate. Of course, the fae weren't the only ones with things they would rather that mortals did not know tied up in this mess-the collectors had more than a few of their own secrets precariously close to the surface of the tale. And, speaking of soul collectors, I hadn't seen Death since he disappeared. It had been only a day, and it wasn't like he showed up daily, but I was worried about him. I was also worried about what the gray man had said.

Though I hadn't seen Death, I couldn't keep Falin from hovering. I'd lost even my psychic sight by the time we were released from the crime scene, and my vision hadn't improved with sleep. So now I sat on the bed, listening to the news because I couldn't see it.

". . . Still no explanation for the bizarre dreams that attacked the city two nights ago." Lusa's broadcast voice mixed with the sound of static before clearing. "While nightmares are a common occurrence often brought on by stress and other life events, the sheer number of people who called police in the early morning hours because they thought their dreams were real has led some experts to speculate that outside forces might be involved. Despite the number of emergency calls, no one was hurt, but the OMIH continues to investigate. In other news . . ."

I tuned out the TV as the bed shifted under Falin's weight. He pressed a steaming mug into my hands, and the scent of rich coffee met my nose. Then he lifted the comforter from my shoulders so he could slide closer before wrapping us both in the covers again. My skin reacted to more than just his body heat, and I focused on the mug of coffee I couldn't see.

I didn't know whether to enjoy the giddiness that erupted in my body with every stray touch of Falin's body, or to run and deny the emotion. How could I very much want to be here, right now, with Falin and still be worried about Death? I ached to see Death and know he was okay, to see that easy smile that hid so many secrets, and to know what might have happened if there hadn't been a hydra at that bridge. I feel like I'm trying to run in opposite directions at the same time.

Not that anything too serious could happen between Falin and me. Not at the moment, at least. Holly had taken PC for a walk and was due back any second.

Poor Holly. She had attempted to eat mortal food after we returned home, but it turned to ash on her tongue. She could never again eat any food but Faerie food-if we figured out how to get her some.

Falin had left a message at the Bloom for Rianna. I hoped that she'd be able to send Ms. B or Desmond with food for Holly, but if that wouldn't work, we'd have to think of something else. Which might mean sending Holly to my castle to live. She'd moped around my apartment for most of the last day, the three of us taking comfort in each other's company and avoiding discussion of any important topics like changelings, planeweavers, or the queen's bloodied hands.

"So if fae can't say 'thank you,' how do they express appreciation?" I asked, thinking about the fact that I couldn't thank Falin for saving my life. Of course, I guess I'd also saved his, so we were probably even.

He brushed my hair away from my neck and leaned closer. "Gifts or gestures. Actions that say more than words ever could." He brushed a kiss on the spot where my neck met my shoulder and a shiver traveled through my body, nearly making me spill my coffee.

He scooted closer, his heat sliding over my back. Then a loud knock sounded on the front door, and I jumped. That time I did spill the coffee.

Holly let herself in, PC scampering around her, his nails clicking on the hardwood. As soon as she released him from his leash, he pitched himself onto the bed and planted himself in my lap. Holly sat on the bed a moment later, the mattress shifting slightly under her weight, but she couldn't have settled herself before another knock sounded on the door.

It opened, and I felt Falin stiffen. "My queen," he whispered, sliding to his feet.

Oh, c.r.a.p. What was the Winter Queen doing at my house? I tugged the comforter tighter and cracked open my shields.

Nothing happened.

I'd burned out both my physical and my psychic sight. I could hear the click of her heels as she swept into my small apartment, but I couldn't see a thing.

"h.e.l.lo, knight, planeweaver." She paused. "Mortal." I could imagine her unimpressed gaze a.s.sessing the mismatched furniture and the broken TV.

I considered trying to scramble off the bed, but what would I do then? Stumble around blindly? I remained in the middle of the bed, PC in my lap and a cup of coffee in my hands.

"Planeweaver, I believe our acquaintance suffered in our first meeting."

You think? Might have been something to do with her threatening to have me tortured. "Alex," I said.

"Excuse me?"

"My name is Alex. Not planeweaver."

"Al-ex." She drew the syllables out, and judging by her tone she wasn't impressed. "What a dreadfully masculine name. I believe I will call you Lexi."

Great.

"As I was saying, Lexi, our first meeting could have gone better. As a gesture of goodwill, I have brought you your friend."

The door opened again, and I recognized the touch of familiar magic that zipped through the air.

"Caleb!" Holly yelled.

Thank goodness. I'd hoped he'd escaped when the Shadow King had helped me out of the winter court, but when we'd returned home we discovered that he was still missing. Of course, just because she'd returned Caleb didn't mean she'd freed the rest of the independents.

"What about the others?" I asked.

I could almost hear the stillness in the room. Then the queen's heel clicked on the floorboard, one quick clack, as if she'd tapped her foot.

"I will consider the idea. Now, I have heard that you have family in the shadow court and have a friendship with the upstart in the nightmare realm. Do not forget, dear Lexi, that there is something-or at least someone-who interests you in my court. While I do hate sharing my toys, I'm always willing to trade up, and having a planeweaver in my court would please me." Her skirts rustled as she turned, and the door opened. "Come along, knight. I've heard that you'll require a new abode, so you might as well show me around this dreadful city."

With that, she left, the door banging shut behind her. I thought Falin had followed, but then his hand traced the edge of my cheek, his fingers trailing into my hair as he leaned his forehead against mine.

"Don't you have to follow her?" My question was a whisper because I wanted the answer to be "no" even though I knew it wasn't. I blinked, wishing more than anything to be able to see.

"Alexis," he whispered. Then he kissed me, his lips taking possession of mine as if everything that hadn't been said could be pa.s.sed through our lips, tongues, breath.

"Wow," Holly whispered behind me, and I heard Caleb clear his throat.

I didn't care. I returned that kiss. Savoring the press of his mouth, the taste of him. And knowing that this kiss was good-bye.

"Knight," the queen called from beyond the door, and Falin broke off the kiss.

But he didn't pull back. Not yet. His lips pressed a smile against mine, and he said, "Don't you dare throw out my toothbrush."

Then he was gone.

The Alex Craft Novels.

Grave Witch.

Grave Dance.