Page 4 of Dead Wolf Rising (Bad Moon Academy 3)

With a nod, I shush them and turn back to Alice. “Sorry about them, they can’t see you.”

She opens her mouth, a strange, strangled noise escapes her lips and a cockroach scuttles out, racing down her chin and making itself at home in the crook of her neck. My throat squeezes with disgust, but I breathe through my nose and swallow, reminding myself she’s presenting herself this way for a reason. Spirits are manifestations of the most complicated parts of a once living person and the visual representation is not always pretty.

Lifting her deathly pale arm, she stretches her fingers toward me. I step closer and place my palm in her clammy hand, hoping her little friend doesn’t try to crawl on me. Flashes of darkness fill my vision as she pushes her thoughts at me. A gray scaled field spreads out before me, lacking color in the way I imagine the Other World must. The plane between the living and the dead is void of vibrance, and it seems to suck every ounce of happiness from my body. The longer I stand, the more hopeless I feel. A strange, spreading of grayness inside of me reminds me of those summers when the rainstorms never seem to let up. The humidity, dark skies, and thundering sky can be comforting, but on day fourteen, rain seems like a curse more than a blessing.

I snap my head up when a sharp caw slices through the air. With large wings, an onyx raven lands in the middle of the field, tipping its head to the side. Two beady eyes are transfixed on me. Hopping closer, it caws again as another lands beside it. I try to move back, but Alice holds me in place. The birds flutter forward and stop a foot away from me, tipping their heads back so they can stare at me. Their eyes are so black, peering, trying to pull me into those depthless irises.

Ravens have always fascinated me. Being named after them, I find myself drawn to them. Sometimes people see Ravens as a symbol of change, meaning the end of one life and the beginning of another. But to most, they’re omens of death and illness. There are some who revere them and think of them as windows to the spirit world. I’m partial to the latter, of course, and aside from all that, they’re striking. Ravens are powerful. Ravens are feared. Ravens are intelligent. Everything I’ve ever wanted to be as a Raven.

Another sleek, black bird lands. There are three of them.

Coincidence?

I think not.

What message am I being sent? The birds begin to caw, one after the other. A haunting chorus I don’t care to interpret. Gooseflesh ripples over my skin and dark power brushes over me, a slick ichor coating me from head to toe. The ground rises up, rushing toward me, and the sky darkens from muted gray to a dark, angry slate. Sulfur and ash fill the air.

My heart thumps in recognition. “Alice, I want to go back.” Sliding my head in her direction, I try to wrench free of her hold. “Alice,” I say with a calmness that surprises me, “I want to leave.”

Alice blinks, staring at me like I’m overreacting.

Screw this. Reaching out with the same ichor-filled magic, I shove her away. Her icy fingers fall from my body. The world spins, and I’m back in the ballroom in the next instant.

“Raven, is everything okay?” Everett asks, grabbing my arm and searching my face. “What happened?”

I glance to where Alice was standing, but she’s gone. Part of me hopes I didn’t send her to the Underworld, but the other half wonders if maybe that’s what she’s wanted all along.

Either way, I don’t have time to think about it because what’s most important right now is finding Bea.

“Raven?” Everett asks again, this time a little louder.

I lift my gaze to meet his and let a small smile take over my face. “Everything’s okay,” I say, even though I know that’s not entirely true.

Alice was trying to give me a message. And I think I know who the message is from, but I’m not quite ready to acknowledge it because acknowledginghimmeans what I’ve been doing, using this power that’s been able to bring people back, is wrong. It means that I’ve made Death angry and I’m not ready to face the consequences of my actions.

“Bea’s not here,” Carter says. “We should keep looking.”

Adler murmurs his agreement and runs his hand over his beard. “Should we split up?”

Draco lifts his eyebrows in question. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. There’s a lot of ground to cover, but it’s best if we stay together.”

I nod in agreement.

“We’ll check the other rooms on this side of the second floor, then go to the other side and then we’ll figure out where to go from there.”

We each take one last look around the ballroom, which is now a mess of neon feathers, upturned champagne flutes, and glitter. Jinx isn’t here.

The next few rooms on the west wing are empty aside from fabric covered furniture. Layers and layers of dust coat the sheets covering the couches. I run my finger over the back of one in a smaller room and grimace at the black covering my skin. It seems like it’s been more than two years since somebody cleaned this academy.

But then again, I don’t know how long Alice was actually working before Jinx attacked her.

“This room is clear,” I say, glancing over my shoulder when Brayden raps his knuckles against the door.

“Ready to head to the dorm rooms?”

“I guess.” Forlorn is a bad look on anyone, but I can’t muster up a smile for him.

He understands and lifts a corner of his mouth for the both of us. “Whatever you need, I’m here.”

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