Page 115 of Grave Beginnings

“His name was Roan Michaels,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “He said Brandon Cassidy was part of the group that attacked him. They used him for a ritual to summon something, but he died before it came through. I don’t know if he just didn’t see it, or if his death stopped it.”

I traced a symbol on the glass, trying to recall the intricate details I’d seen in Roan’s memories. My finger moved almost on its own, drawing jagged lines and sharp angles. But before I could finish, Angel caught my hand, his grip firm, stopping me.

“Don’t,” he said. “I know what that is.”

My gut twisted at the tension in his voice. “What is it?”

“The Shadow King,” Angel hissed, his arms tightening around me. “Erlik.”

“Who?” I asked, though the name alone sent a shiver down my spine.

Wade stepped closer, his face pale. “Erlik was one of the dark gods who tried to tear the world apart during the last war. If they were trying to summon him…” He trailed off, his jaw tightening.

“I don’t think they succeeded,” I said quickly, more to reassure myself than anyone else. “Roan died before they could finish the ritual. That has to mean something, right?” With a bunch of other bodies found, did that mean they’d tried this multiple times and failed?

“Maybe,” Angel said. “But if they were summoning Erlik, they’ll try again. And next time, they might not fail.”

Despite Roan’s absence, I shivered with a growing internalchill. The half-drawn symbol on the glass, etched and glowing, as if with magic, called to me as if I could finish it and make the darkness rise.

I shook my head and tugged Angel toward the door, in desperate need of a breather. The revelation that I could not only communicate with the dead but also release them eased my anxiety a touch. Was leaving the soul tied to the body part of the ritual? Would there be enough of the other remains to give me a sense of who they were?

For the first time since I’d had my world turned upside-down at the daycare, I felt a sense of hope, a reason for this nightmare to be placed in my path. How many times had I wished that I could magically ask the dead for answers? Tell me who did this, help me bring them to justice. While I’d never voiced those things out loud, I suspected a lot of the detectives who worked in homicide did the same. At least, those who wanted to solve crimes and bring closure to the families of the dead.

We stood in the hall, my back to the far end where the morgue stood, and I wondered how to best help. Overcome my fear of going into the meat locker of the dead? Just thinking about that space made me nauseous.

“One of the MEs has an office down near the elevator,” Wade said.

“I can talk to more of the dead, I think.” Or at least try, I thought.

“Let’s record everything you just saw and experienced first,” Angel said. “I don’t want you to forget any details.”

I glanced up at him, his hand resting on my lower back as he kept firmly in my bubble, his magic a subtle wall of strength around me. Without him, I’d have been a mess, but I felt bad needing him to ground me.

“We’re good,” Angel said, as if he could sense my inner struggle.

Wade stood behind us, a silent wall to block out the distant door, waiting.

“Okay. Let’s record, and then maybe we can see the other remains in the viewing room?” I offered. To say that I wasn’t afraid of what I’d see would have been a lie. But I’d never let even the nastiest of crime scenes deter me from seeking justice for the dead, and I wasn’t about to start now.

40

The first recordingand recall went quickly. In the small office, Wade set up a computer to record. Bobby appeared with his equipment, and Angel kept to my side as I closed my eyes and focused on the memory, giving them every detail Roan had shared. Roan’s final moments surged through me—his breath came in ragged gasps, his heartbeat a wild staccato. The chanting drummed against his skull, each syllable a nail pinning his soul in place. Overhead, the symbol bled into the night like a wound torn into the fabric of existence.

I described the sensation of his soul lingering, trapped by the ritual, and the relief I felt when he finally let go. Angel listened intently, his hand resting on my shoulder, while Wade took notes and occasionally asked clarifying questions that stirred up a few other memories —scents, sounds, and sensations, not all of them pleasant.

By the time I finished, my voice was hoarse, and my head throbbed with the beginnings of a migraine. Angel handed me a bottle of water and a small packet of ibuprofen, which I gratefully accepted. I didn’t realize how relaxed I’d become until I sensed someone approach the door and my magic perked up, reachingout as if to swat at whoever stood outside, making me whip around to face the door. My magic bristled, snapping like a startled cat, though I knew who stood on the other side of the door before it opened. Victor.

He looked annoyed, but the vampire firmly shoved my energy away like he was batting at a fly. My stomach twisted—a reflex, or the memory of his mind pressing against mine from before? He handed a stack of food boxes over to Angel. “We’ve got the viewing room ready for the next set of remains once you’re ready. Going from newest to oldest as far as we can determine from scent and forensic notes.”

“Thanks for the food,” Angel said, taking the boxes from him. “We’ll be over in a few minutes.”

Victor glared at me, but I refused to meet his gaze, fearing he’d do the mind thing again. I couldn’t sense his magic messing with me this time, and my magic was more in tune and aware. Finally, he left, closing the door behind him and giving us quiet as Angel unpacked the boxes and handed out food.

Angel pushed a sandwich into my hands. “Protein first.” He had several wrapped packages of snack cakes which he kept to himself. “You can have one after you finish your sandwich.”

I grumbled at him.

“You’re running on fumes already, and we’ve only done one interview. This is a lot for any SV. Or any variance in general. Think of it in shifter terms. Each time you use your power, it’s like us changing, back and forth. That uses a lot of energy, even if yours isn’t manifesting as a physical transition.” Angel nudged the bottle of water in front of me. “Drink, eat, refuel.”