Page 74 of Haunted By the Shadow of Death

He dropped his chin and then glanced at Groza, who was cradling her hand to her chest, seemingly succumbing to pain.

“Cutting it off will only hurry the spread,” we said, Death’s words coming through me again.

He looked me in the eye, as if in shock that this was what we’d come to. If only he’d shown some remorse and shock before he’d committed the atrocity.

“Your choices led us here. Not mine,” I said. I would’ve forgiven him so many things until his attempted murder of Kicks. I wouldn’t let that threat linger. I knew better now. I knew him better, and somehow, with Death flowing in and out of me, I could sense the rot in his soul. He wouldn’t honor any word he gave.

“Decide or I’ll choose for you,” I said.

“Fast.”

A second later, he was gone. I hadn’t touched him. Death had done the dirty work, but it had been my call.

I stared at his dead body, regrets upon regrets piling up over how much had gone wrong. I wished I’d never met him. But then again, no. Because he had saved Charlie, and I’d suffer much worse than remorse and guilt for Charlie’s sake.

The rest of the pack was still watching me from their safe vantage points, but I had no fear of them. Death wouldn’t let anyone touch me. We were acting almost as one now, and I felt safer than I ever had since Death Day, maybe even before.

I’d gained security but put my soul in peril. Even now, I could feel her power flowing through my veins, reaching out and caressing that dark piece of me, urging it to grow, to waken and enjoy the fruits of our labors. I was walking a thin line of holding on to who I was.

Groza was bent on the ground, still cradling her hand.

“You think this is the end?” she yelled, her face contorted in pain. “It’s not. You’re a dead woman walking. You won’t live to see the year through. I promise you.” She was screaming so loudly that spittle flew from her mouth.

“You definitely won’t. My guess is you’ll be taking your own life and being welcomed into hell by the end of the week,” I said calmly.

“You’re a monster!” she yelled. “You’ll get yours.”

She wouldn’t be alive long enough, or well enough, to inflict anything upon anyone. Certainly not me.

“Where is Dirkin?”

“You want him dead?” Death asked.

“Yes.”

The old shifter was dragged by some invisible entity across the ground until he was at my feet.

“Do it,” Death said. “Just wave your hand toward him.”

I had a moment of flickering doubt, and then remembered his cold stare as his friend died. I waved a hand at him, and he was dead a second later.

I turned, catching sight of more shifters ducking back into their hiding places. I scanned the area for the few faces I’d put to memory but didn’t see them.

Maybe I should’ve looked harder, tried to flush them out, but there was nothing I wanted more at the moment than to get out of here and take Kicks to safety.

He was hovering eerily in the air.

“Walk,” Death said. “His body will follow. Leave the rest to spread the word.”

I saw more shifters scurrying about, making sure they were nowhere in my path as I walked out.

I passed Kicks’ motorcycle where it was still parked and continued to walk. I couldn’t drive one of those things on my own, let alone with an unconscious Kicks behind me.

I continued to walk, heading into the dense woods, in the direction of Arkansas. I was going to bring Kicks home.

I walked for hours, Death flickering in and out of existence as I did. I finally stopped beside a river, and Kicks slowly lowered toward me until he lay in the dirt on the bank of the river.

I knelt on the ground beside him, hating how still he still was. “When will he wake?”

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