The Whispering Dead (Gravekeeper #1) - Darcy Coates Page 0,65
bitter bran muffin, what can I do for you?”
Keira took a deep breath. “I need your help to do something crazy.”
“Oh! Good! I was worried this might be a boring request.”
“No, I mean it’s really, really, stupidly crazy. And somewhat illegal.”
“Where will I meet you?”
She paused and squeezed her eyes closed. “I’m not joking, Zoe. We could go to jail for this.”
“It’s okay. I already said yes. You can stop selling me on the idea. Should I pick you up?”
“No. I’ll meet you at the fountain at midnight. Wear dark clothes and bring a flashlight.”
“Oooh, are we gonna rob someone? Can I suggest a target? Or, wait, maybe you’re actually a pyromaniac—”
Keira hung up so Zoe wouldn’t hear her muffled laughter. She’d always known Zoe would agree to help, but her friend’s overwhelming enthusiasm was like food for her soul.
She tucked Adage’s flashlight and the kitchen knife into her pocket, then paced the length of the cottage while she watched the minute hand inch around the clock. The unconventional sleep schedule was dragging on her, so she brewed a strong cup of tea for the caffeine. Sitting down would allow exhaustion to creep over her and lull her into its embrace. Instead, she kept on her feet, stretching her arms, and gulped the drink down while it was still hot enough to scorch her throat.
When the clock hit eleven thirty, she rinsed the mug, set it neatly in the cupboard where it would likely sit for the next few years, until Adage found another guest to place in the groundskeeper’s cottage, and wrapped a scarf around her neck. She’d chosen to wear the jeans, jacket, and boots she’d arrived at the parsonage with—partly because they were already dark and sturdy, but mostly because she knew Adage wouldn’t approve of what she had planned for that night, and she hated the idea of wearing his generosity while doing something that would disappoint him.
She opened the door and called over her shoulder, “Bye, Daisy,” then flinched. It was hard to know whether she wanted to laugh or cry more. Instead, she pressed the door closed and turned toward the cemetery.
Mist hung thick around the stones. It shifted lazily in the wind, and she was certain the graveyard would be full if she used her second sight. She touched the muscle and felt it ache. It was still sore from the previous night, so she didn’t pull on it—especially as it would be vital for her plan to work.
This is our last chance, Emma. Wish me luck.
She turned away from the graves and strode past the parsonage. Mason’s prediction of rain seemed to be accurate; heavy clouds were growing across the sky, blotting out the moon and stars. Keira had to strain to see through the dark, but she didn’t dare turn on her flashlight. She’d been cautious when visiting the abandoned mill, but this night’s stakes would be far higher if they were caught—not just for herself, but for her friend. She couldn’t take any chances.
As she reached the base of the driveway, something large and metallic on the side of the road caught her notice. The car had parked under thick trees so not even moonlight reached it, making it virtually invisible. Keira slunk back toward the bushes, lowering her body and blending into the shadows, as she stared at it. There were no houses nearby, and she hadn’t seen a car parked there before. Mason’s earlier worry that Gavin would want revenge came back to her. Curiosity to see if anyone was inside the vehicle burned, but the windows were tinted, and she didn’t dare get any closer.
The car had been parked in such a way that no one could go along the driveway without passing it. Keira circumvented that by slinking through the shrubs and brush. She kept her feet light and her movements fluid, knowing she would be virtually invisible in the low light but still unwilling to make noise in case the car was occupied.
The shrubs thinned as she neared the florist, so she took a chance and dashed around the building’s corner. With the shop between her and the car, she pressed her back to the stones and listened, waiting for the telltale sound of a clicking car door or humming engine. Nothing. If someone was in the car, that person had either fallen asleep or failed to notice her.
She turned and crept toward the fountain. Zoe already sat on the stone edge, ankles crossed and