Page 9 of Dead Wolf Falling (Bad Moon Academy 2)

Something feels wrong about this place.

How observant of Joan. I don’t respond to her because while I want to be a smartass, she’s right. Something does feel wrong. There is no light, but my eyes have adjusted to the endless dark. I duck under a row of bricks which hangs down to frame the bottom of the stairwell.

Thank you, supernatural eyesight.

The sharp tang of copper fills my nostrils as I round the corner and my jaw drops. An old kerosene lantern sits in the middle of the floor. Morris is lying on the ground, body withered and void of life. A trickle of blood runs down his jaw. I wrap an arm around my middle and smack my hand over my mouth to keep from gagging.

Morris is dead.

How?

Raven, we have to get them out,Joan says, drawing my attention to the others.

Behind his fallen body kneel Draco, Carter, Everett, and Layla. Their mouths are gagged and their hands are tied behind their backs. On light feet, I move around Morris, avoiding looking at him because if I let myself stare for too long, I’m afraid I won’t be able to focus on the mission. I bend to start figuring out how to undo the wrist restraints. Draco tries to say something, but the gag muffles the words.

Metal scrapes against concrete, a long, drawn-out sound that sends a shudder through me. My fingers pause on Draco’s ropes, and I slowly lift my gaze to stare over his shoulder. A woman in a scarlet ball gown, black hair piled high on her head, holds a long, rusted pipe and stands next to Morris. She tips her head, nudging the toe of her shoe into his arm and tsks.

“Oh my, little bird, what have you done?” The woman’s milky eyes swirl, and her form flickers slightly, like a picture cutting out on a television, before it solidifies and she seems as real as me. Her cheeks even flush, like there’s actual blood rushing to her face.

“You killed him,” I say, standing from my crouch and curling my fingers into fists at my sides.

All the more reason to kill her,Joan growls and pushes against me, trying to force a shift.

Gritting my teeth, I force her back down. She hasn’t tried to break free of my hold for a while now.

The woman’s lips curl back like a Cheshire cat, and she raises her eyebrows. “I did, didn’t I?”

“Why?” I flick my gaze to Morris. “How?”

It shouldn’t be possible. Ghosts can’t kill people, can they?

She steps around him and moves toward me, the pipe dragging along the stone floor in an eerie screech. Everyone in line growls in warning, but whatever she’s using to hold them in place is strong enough to keep them from shifting and breaking free.

More pack magic?

“Oh, dear. I’m afraid your friends don’t like me, little bird.” She places her hand on her chest.

I narrow my eyes. “Gee, I wonder why. Maybe it’s the shifters you’ve been killing?”

“They’re not all dead. Well, not entirely,” she says with a wink. “You know a little something about that though, now don’t you? The living dead.”

Fucking witch. She saw those memories of my mother trying to raise my father when I saved Joan.

“And how long have you been the living dead?” I place my hand on the back of Draco’s neck, right where the gag is tied, and try to wiggle my fingers through the knot.

She chuckles. “I’m not living, little bird. I’m dead as a doornail, just a bit shinier.” She grabs the edges of her skirt and swishes it back and forth. “I think I look pretty good for being dead, don’t you?”

How is she here if she’s not alive?Joan asks.

Some spirits are strong enough to take shape like this; to be able to kill, though. . . she has to be incredibly strong. I’m not even sure how it’s possible,I confess.

Talk about being out of my element.

“What do you want?” I ask as I slip my ring finger between the knot and start to work it loose.

“If you undo that gag, I’ll have no choice but to kill him next.” She sighs and gazes at Draco. “He is too handsome to die.”

I drop my hand and step away from him. “What do you want?”

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