Chapter 26 · The Death That Started It

"Get behind me, you idiot!"

Dax’s voice cracked like a whip. He didn't wait for me to move. He grabbed the collar of my jacket and yanked me backward, slamming my spine against the cold stone of the alley wall.

Snap.

A corpse’s jaw shut inches from my throat.

I gasped, the smell of wet earth and old rot filling my lungs. The thing was grey, skinless, with fingers like blackened twigs. It screeched—a sound like a razor blade dragging across my eardrums.

"I can fight!" I yelled, scrambling for a weapon in my pockets. "Let go of me!"

"With what? Your fingernails?" Dax snarled.

He didn't let go. Instead, he shifted his weight, pinning me between the wall and his chest. I could feel the heat radiating off him, the hard line of his thigh pressing into mine. He reached for the heavy judge’s baton at his hip, movements sharp and practiced.

"Stay still or you're dinner."

Three more glided out of the fog. Jerky movements. Like broken puppets.

"They're faster than last time," I whispered. My heart hammered against my ribs.

"Last time?" Dax glanced back, eyes narrowing.