Grave Destiny (Alex Craft, #6) - Kalayna Price Page 0,99

the same way. He at least had something he could do.

He walked over to Lunabella’s body and bent down. Thrusting his hand into her chest, he pulled her soul free. It glowed a brilliant silver.

“Wait.” I needed to talk to her ghost. I hadn’t been able to get to it myself because of the basmoarte, but now that she was outside the body . . .

I knew Death wouldn’t let me talk to her. He couldn’t. Asking just underscored some of the reasons our relationship hadn’t worked. But I would try anyway, which was another reason things hadn’t worked.

Death hesitated, his shoulders tensing.

“Just one question?” I pleaded.

He didn’t look at me as he said, “One.”

That was better than I’d assumed I’d get.

“Did—” I started, letting my mouth get ahead of my brain in my hurry to get the question. I snapped my teeth shut. I’d been about to ask if she’d participated in Stiofan’s murder. But whether she did or not didn’t truly matter and wouldn’t help us find the rest of the murderers.

“Who killed you?” I asked, hoping my hesitation wasn’t too long.

With Death still grasping her soul, Lunabella hadn’t transitioned over to the land of the dead and become a ghost. She was a soul, in its brilliantly raw form. There was no true shape, no features, in the radiant silver glow that made up her soul, so I couldn’t read her expression. Her voice, when she answered, was high and distant, and very unlike a ghost’s.

“The scarred prince.”

“Who is—?” I started, but I’d gotten my one question. Death flicked his hand and the soul vanished.

Lunabella was out of my reach now, unless I wanted to risk lacerating my magic to raise her shade. Death moved to Jurin next, sending his soul on in one smooth motion before I could ask him to wait.

I turned toward Falin and Dugan, opening my mouth to ask who the “scarred prince” might be, but then hesitated. I’d seen every noble in Faerie—aside from the high king—at the revelry. There had been only one prince present. Dugan.

I stared at him. Only his face and hands were visible, and they certainly weren’t scarred. The rest of him was covered in armor. He didn’t look like anyone who would be described as scarred, but who else was there? I thought about everything he’d said over the last two days, searching for loopholes in his words. Could he be involved? Why would he be here now if he were? And how could he have killed Lunabella when he and Falin had been together when they reached the clearing? Of course, it was only his shadow cat’s odd actions that we were basing time of death on. Could he have orchestrated the discovery after having followed and killed them sometime while I’d been unconscious?

I didn’t know. My gut said he wasn’t involved, but I’d talk to Falin alone first. Find out if there were any other princes I didn’t know about. I turned back to Death.

“There might be a broken ghost in my office,” I said, because he hadn’t had to let me ask Lunabella any questions, so I was showing my thanks in a peace offering. Besides, if Stiofan was still there, he needed help. There were no therapists for ghosts, and the land of the dead wasn’t exactly a bright and happy place full of healing. Hopefully wherever souls went next would be better.

“I found him already,” Death said as he straightened.

That’s right, he’d mentioned that he’d been looking for me. But he hadn’t said why yet. I waited. He would tell me why he was searching for me, or he wouldn’t. That had been another major stumbling block. Too many secrets.

Death turned to me and brushed his dark hair out of his face. He looked around and scowled at Falin and Dugan, who were watching me, no doubt searching for hints about the conversation they could only hear my half of.

“You might want to go somewhere with less of an audience. He wants to talk to you about the debt you owe him.”

I frowned, confused, and then the blood drained from my face as comprehension hit. There was only one he that Death would use that much emphasis about.

The Mender.

I grimaced and twisted my hands in the skirt of my dress. I didn’t want to deal with a visit from the Mender. Not tonight. I’d had a long couple days, and a meeting with the very powerful—very scary—leader of the collectors was not

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