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

She was almost panting as she carried the mirror holding Algaliarept’s aura to the cauldron. It wasn’t the weight of the glass; it was the weight of what was happening. I imagine she was reliving the night she had stood where I was now, watching her predecessor as I watched her. She must have known what was going to happen, but was so deadened inside that she could only do what was expected. And by her obvious, helpless panic, I knew that something was left in her worth saving.

“Free her,” I said, hunched in my ugly coat as my attention flicked from Ceri to the cauldron, and then to Algaliarept. “Free her first.”

“Why?” It looked idly at its nails before putting the gloves back on.

“I’ll kill you before I let you drag me into the ever-after, and I want her free first.”

Algaliarept laughed at that, long and deep. Putting a hand against the angel, the demon bent almost double. A muted thump reverberated up through my feet, and the stone base cracked with the sound of a gunshot. Ceri stared, her pale lips slack and her eyes moving rapidly over me. Things seemed to be starting to work in her, memories and thoughts long suppressed.

“You will struggle,” Algaliarept said, delighted. “Stupendous. I so hoped you would.” Its eyes met mine, and it smirked, touching the rim of its glasses. “Adsimulo calefacio.”

The knife in my sleeve burst into flame. Yelping, I shrugged out of my coat. It hit the edge of my bubble and slid down. The demon eyed me. “Rachel Mariana Morgan. Stop trying my patience. Get over here and recite the damned invocation.”

I had no choice. If I didn’t, it would call my deal breached, take my soul in forfeit, and drag me into the ever-after. My only chance was to play the agreement out. I glanced at Ceri, wishing she would move away from Algaliarept, but she was running her fingers over the dates engraved in the cracked tombstone, her sun-starved complexion now even paler.

“Do you remember the curse?” Algaliarept asked when I came even with the knee-high cauldron.

I snuck a glance in, not surprised to find the demon’s aura was black. I nodded, feeling faint as my thoughts went back to having accidentally made Nick my familiar. Was it only three months ago? “I can say it in English,” I whispered. Nick. Oh God. I hadn’t said good-bye. He had been so distant lately that I hadn’t found the courage to tell him. I hadn’t told anyone.

“Good enough.” Its glasses vanished and its damned, goat-slitted eyes fixed on me. My heart raced, but I had made this choice. I would live or die by it.