Industrial Magic - By Kelley Armstrong Page 0,137

all rock.”

“Weird, huh? We have some very strange places here. Looks like you landed in one of them. Let’s just hope nothing nasty pops out.”

My head whipped around, searching for the source of the voice, but I saw only rocks.

Two little monkeys…

“Stop that,” I said.

“Hey, I’m trying to jar your memory. You used to love that song. Savannah did, too. Both of you, crazy for it, though I think you just liked the excuse to jump on the bed.”

Savannah? How did she know—? I swallowed, making the only association I could.

“Eve?” I said.

“Who else? Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.”

When I didn’t answer, she said. “Oh, come on. You must remember your favorite babysitter. I looked after you every Wednesday night for nearly two years. If I couldn’t make it, you wouldn’t let your mom get anyone else. You’d cry so hard she had to cancel the Elders meeting and stay home.”

Eve paused. When I still said nothing, she sighed. “You really don’t remember, do you? Damn. I usually leave more of an impression.”

“Where are you?” I said.

“Hold on. I’m working on that part. Just give me a—” A shimmer of movement to my left. The shape winked, then started coming into focus. “Almost there. This ain’t easy, let me tell you.”

An audible pop. And there stood a grown-up version of Savannah, a tall, exotically beautiful woman with a wide mouth, strong nose and chin, and long, straight black hair. Only the eyes were different, dark instead of the bright blue Savannah had inherited from Kristof Nast.

She hunkered down before me, then touched the ground and shivered.

“Damn cold. You sure picked a helluva place to pop through. If I’d known, I’d have dressed warmer.” She caught my eye, her wide grin a mirror of Savannah’s. “Ghost humor.” She looked down at her clothes: jeans, sneakers, and a dark green embroidered blouse. “You know, I used to really like this blouse, but after wearing it for a year straight…Time to figure out how to change clothes.” She sized up my ensemble. “Not bad. Could have been worse.”

“I’m not—I’m not a ghost. I didn’t—”

“Die? Jury’s still out on that one. All I know is you’re here, and if you’re here, you should be dead.” Eve shook her head. “Never expected you to go all Romeo and Juliet on me, Paige. I know, once you commit yourself to someone, you go all the way, like you did with Savannah, but, really—” She waved at our surroundings. “This is too far.”

“Lucas,” I said, scrambling up.

“Easy, girl. He’s right over—” Eve stood. “Now where…? Oh, there.”

I hurried past her. As I skirted an outcropping of rock, I saw Lucas’s shoes. I raced around a large boulder to find him lying on his back, eyes closed. I dropped down beside him, fingers going to his throat, feeling for a pulse.

“Uh, you won’t find that, Paige,” Eve said behind me. “Not on yourself, either. Part of the passing-over package deal. You can jog all you want and never run out of breath. First time in a week your stomach hasn’t hurt, I’ll bet.”

I touched Lucas’s cheek. His skin was warm. I leaned down, bringing my face to his, and gently shook his shoulder as I called his name.

“You could try kissing him,” Eve said. “But I don’t think that works in real life…or real afterlife.”

I glared at her. She held up her hands.

“Sorry, not the time for quips.” She walked around Lucas and knelt on his other side. “He’s okay, baby. This is normal. It’s death shock. Takes a day or two to recover. Normally, you’d come through into one of the waiting areas, where there are people to look after you, but you guys took the back door.”

“D—death shock?”

I looked down at Lucas’s chest. His shirt was whole. I slid my hand under it, but found no bullet hole.

“No, he’s okay,” I said. “He didn’t get shot. He just fell through the rift, like I did.”

Eve said nothing.

I turned to face her. “He didn’t get shot. Look, no hole.”

She nodded, eyes not meeting mine. I swallowed hard, then pulled up my blouse. On my stomach, where Weber had stabbed me, the skin was now smooth and unblemished.

Eve bent over Lucas and adjusted his glasses, which had slipped in the fall. “No need for these here, but they still pass through. Weird, huh?” She leaned back for a better look, then straightened the glasses again and brushed strands of hair off Lucas’s forehead. “Poor kid. All these years,

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