Back Every Which Way But Dead
Chapters (42)
  1. EVERY
  2. Dedication
  3. Epigraph
  4. One
  5. Two
  6. Three
  7. Four
  8. Five
  9. Six
  10. Seven
  11. Eight
  12. Nine
  13. Ten
  14. Eleven
  15. Twelve
  16. Thirteen
  17. Fourteen
  18. Fifteen
  19. Sixteen
  20. Seventeen
  21. Eighteen
  22. Nineteen
  23. Twenty
  24. Twenty-one
  25. Twenty-two
  26. Twenty-three
  27. Twenty-four
  28. Twenty-five
  29. Twenty-six
  30. Twenty-seven
  31. Twenty-eight
  32. Twenty-nine
  33. Thirty
  34. Thirty-one
  35. Thirty-two
  36. Thirty-three
  37. The Undead Pool: An Excerpt
  38. Chapter 2
  39. About the Author
  40. Praise for KIM HARRISON’sprevious Rachel Morgan novelsDEAD WITCH WALKING andTHE GOOD, THE BAD, AND THE UNDEAD
  41. Also by Kim Harrison
  42. About the publisher

Her shadowy face was pinched in concern. Behind her, Jenks and David watched. I didn’t like David seeing me like this, but it wasn’t as if I had much choice. “Drink your tea,” she said, holding it up to me and putting my hand around it.

“My head hurts,” I complained, taking a sip of the bland brew. It wasn’t real tea, but something with flowers and weeds in it. What I wanted was a cup of that coffee, but I didn’t want to hurt Ceri’s feelings. “I feel like run-over crap,” I complained.

“You look like run-over crap,” Jenks said. “Drink your tea.”

It was tasteless but soothing. I took another swallow, scraping up a smile for Ceri. “Mmmm. Good,” I lied.

She straightened, clearly pleased as she picked up the washbasin. “Drink it all. Do you mind if Keasley tacks a blanket over your door to stop the draft?”

“That would be great. Thanks,” I said, but she didn’t leave until I took another sip.

Her shadow left the hall, and my smile fell into a grimace. “This stuff is tasteless,” I whispered. “Why does everything good for me have to be tasteless?”

David glanced at the empty doorway and the light spilling in. Jenks flew to land on his shoulder as the Were unzipped his backpack. “I’ve got something that might help,” David said. “My old partner used to swear by it. Begged me for some when he partied-too-hearty.”

“Whoa!” Hand over his nose, Jenks flitted upward. “How much bane you got in there, Johnny Appleseed?”

David’s smile grew sly. “What?” he said, his brown eyes innocent. “It’s not illegal. And it’s organic. No carbs, even.”

The familiar spicy scent of bane rose thicker in the small room, and I wasn’t surprised when David brought out a cellophane bag with a zippy top. I recognized the name brand: Wolf’s Head Organic. “Here,” he said as he took the cup out of my hand and set it on my bedside table.

Hiding what he was doing from the hallway, he shook a good tablespoon into my drink. Running his eyes over me, he shook in a little more. “Try it now,” he said, handing it to me.

I sighed. Why was everyone giving me stuff? All I wanted was a sleep charm or maybe one of Captain Edden’s strange aspirins. But David looked so hopeful, and the smell of bane was more appealing than rosehips, that I stirred it with my pinky. The crushed leaves sank to leave the tea a richer color. “What good will this do?” I asked as I took a sip. “I’m not a Were.”