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

I looked at the pot, recognizing the brew by the smell. It was the one to make a person into a familiar. Fear chilled me, and I wrapped my arms about myself. “I’m already coated with your aura,” I said. “Making me take more isn’t going to make a difference.”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion.”

I sprang back as he moved. Grinning, he extended the basket that had appeared in his hand. I could smell wax. “Set the candles,” he ordered, amused at my quick reaction.

“Rachel…” Ceri whispered, but I couldn’t look at her. I had promised to be his familiar, and now I would be. Miserable, my thoughts went to Ivy as I set the milky green candles at the spots marked by black nail polish. Why couldn’t I make good choices?

My grip on the last candle trembled. It had gouges on it, as if something had tried to break the circle by going through it. Something with big nasty claws.

“Rachel!” Al barked, and I jumped. “You didn’t set them with their place names.”

Still holding the last candle, I stared blankly. Past him, Ceri nervously licked her lips.

“You don’t know their place names,” Al added, and I shook my head, not wanting to be hit again, but Al only sighed. “I’ll set them myself when I light them,” he grumbled, his pale face taking on a ruddy tinge. “I expected more of you than this. Apparently you’ve been spending most of your time with earth magic, neglecting your ley line arts.”

“I’m an earth witch,” I said. “Why would I bother?”

Ceri jerked as Al threatened to smack me again, her almost translucent hair swirling. “Let her go, Algaliarept. You don’t want her for a familiar.”

“Offering to take her place?” he mocked, and I took a fearful breath that she might.

“No!” I shouted, and he laughed.

“Don’t fret, Rachel, love,” he crooned, and I flinched when he ran a gloved finger across my jawline, tracing the path down my arm to my hand to take the last candle from me. “I keep my familiars until something better comes along, and despite you being as ignorant as a frog, you’re capable of holding almost twice the line energy that she can.” He leered. “Lucky you.”

Clapping his white-gloved hands once, he spun to make his coattails furl. “Now. Watch closely, Rachel. You’ll be lighting my candles tomorrow. These are words that move mortals and gods alike, making all equal and capable of keeping my circle whole against even Newt.”

Swell.