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“I suppose.” He smirked down at her.

Standing in the archway of the open door, she peered out at the graveyard around them. It was beautiful in the rain, the sounds of heavy droplets hitting the leaves around them. “I don’t suppose you brought an umbrella?”

“Hm.” He stepped beside her, peering up at the sky. Taking his cane in his hand, he tapped it into the stone once, twice, and she watched in fascination as it simply…became an umbrella.

Just like that.

A second ago, it was a cane.

Now it was a vulture-handled umbrella.

“Huh.”

She had met a vampire. Her father was—or had been, anyway—a talking, sentient skeleton. Her best friend was a revenant, and her new pet was a half-rotted rat. The man she was deeply and problematically attracted to was a lich. She was four-hundred-and-something years old.

But that little trick had left her mildly impressed.

She clapped.

“Now you’re patronizing me.” He tilted the umbrella over them and opened it. It was black, of course.

“No, no. That was a super neat trick.”

“Mmhm.” He held out his elbow to her. “Shall we, my lady?”

Feeding her hand into the crook of his arm, she couldn’t help but smile as he led them back through the rows of headstones toward the exit. Slowly, she kept turning over her new realization—her epiphany, as he had called it. It was still a fledgling thought, and it would take some time for it to fully form. It was still squishy and vulnerable, and she was honestly not sure how to even explain it to him if she had wanted to.

Luckily, he seemed to be quite content to walk in silence as the rain began to grow heavier around them. When thunder boomed in the distance, she laughed.

“What’s funny now? Or am I still not allowed to know?”

“Oh, come on. It’s obvious. This is the most goth date in the world.” She snickered. “Two mostly-dead, totally-supernatural freaks going out to dinner and then a stroll for some casual grave robbing in a goddamn thunderstorm.”

“Technically, no one was buried in that particular tomb, but I get your meaning.” He pulled her a step closer to him. “Are you not enjoying yourself?”

“Honestly? I’m having a blast.” Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She sighed. “Just in time for our cockblocking friend to interrupt.”

“Hm?”

“I think mom’s concerned that we’re out too late.” She looked down at her phone as it buzzed again.

Rinnie: GET DOWN

Rinnie: NOW

She didn’t even think as she dropped to the soaked grass at her feet. It was just in time to hear the boom of gunfire echoing in the trees and bouncing off the stones like the thunder had done a moment prior. She scrambled off the path and wedged herself quickly behind a stone. “Gideon!”

There was shouting in the distance. She could see flashlights bobbing through the rows of monuments. She had no doubt of who it was. And what they were after. But whether they wanted to kill her or capture her, that bit was up for debate. “Gideon!”

He didn’t answer. All she got in reply was another round of gunfire. She peered around the edge of the monument and saw why he hadn’t responded. The soldiers hadn’t been firing at her. Gideon stood there, riddled with holes, gripping his chest. Rain was mixing quickly with the blood pouring from him. Each time he went to move, more bullets punched through him.

White hair hanging down along his face in soaked rivulets, he grimaced, but not in pain. In rage. His form exploded into black smoke, and a sound tore through the graveyard that was both ear-piercing and inaudible all at once.

She jerked in shock as she saw shapes around her emerging from the dirt. Like white smoke rising from the graves, they began to take the shape of—of people.

Ghosts. Spirits.

She shuddered.


Tags: Kathryn Ann Kingsley Memento Mori Fantasy