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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

Newt’s voice sounded worried, making me wonder. Too much ever-after in the brainpan perhaps? I didn’t have time to deal with a crazy demon, no matter how powerful it was. “Read the papers. I’m busy,” I said, pulling myself forward.

I jerked when a boulder the size of a car fell two feet in front of me. The ground shook and bits of rock chips stung my face. I stared at it, then Newt, who was smiling as it adjusted its grip on its staff to look pleasant and innocuous. My head hurt. Okay, maybe I had a little time. “Ah, Lee can kindle demon magic,” I said, not seeing any reason to tell it I could too.

Newt’s black eyes widened. “Already?” it said, then its face clouded, not angry with me, but at itself. I waited for it to move the rock. It didn’t. Taking a deep breath, I started to go around Newt, as it seemed the demon had forgotten I was there. The sense of danger flowing from the slight figure was growing, building on itself to tighten my gut and make my skin crawl. I was getting the distinct impression that I was still alive because a very powerful demon was curious, nothing more.

Hoping Newt would forget about me, I inched myself forward, trying to ignore the pain in my ankle. I slipped, sucking in my breath as the flat of my arm hit a rock, sending a shiver of pain up it. The boulder was right in front of me, and gathering myself, I wedged my knees under me. My ankle was burning agony as I gained my feet and held the rock for balance.

There was a brush of air, and Newt was beside me. “Do you want to live forever?”

The question sent a shiver through me. Damn it, Newt was becoming more interested, not less. “No,” I whispered. Hand outstretched, I limped from the rock.

“I didn’t either, until I tried it.” The redwood staff clunked to the ground as Newt moved to keep even with me, black eyes eerily more alive than anyone else’s I’d ever seen. My skin crawled. Something was wrong with Newt—really wrong. I couldn’t put my finger on it until I realized that the minute I took my attention from Newt, I forgot what the demon looked like. Apart from those eyes.

“I know something Algaliarept doesn’t,” Newt said. “I remember now. You like secrets. You’re good at keeping them, too. I know all about you; you’re afraid of yourself.”