Chapters (48)
- Title Page
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- The Undead Pool: An Excerpt
- Chapter 2
- About the Author
- Also by Kim Harrison
- Credits
- About the Publisher
“Don’t try to remember, then,” he said, and I felt some tension leave me. “Think about your foot. You hurt yourself, and that’s hard to wash away completely. Who did you kick?”
My breath exhaled slowly. I closed my eyes, and my foot seemed to throb. Not who, but what, I thought suddenly. My hair had been in my mouth, and it blocked my vision, making me smack into the archway to the door instead of the handle. The damn door was so freaking narrow, and it hadn’t been my fault. The floor had moved, throwing me off balance.
I felt my face go blank, and I opened my eyes. Ford had leaned forward, knowing that I had remembered something, and his eyes seemed to demand an answer. The amulet between us glowed a slurry of purple, black, and gray—anger and fear. I didn’t remember the night, but there was only one place Kisten would go with narrow doors where the floor would move.
“Kisten’s boat,” I said, standing up. “Edden, you’re driving.”
THIRTY-EIGHT
We sped down the paved road, hitting the potholes caused by last year’s frost and snowplows. The back roads outside of the Hollows didn’t get much attention as the cities grew larger and the country grew wilder. Edden had called in support, and we quickly found out that Kisten’s boat wasn’t at Piscary’s, but a FIB officer on patrol remembered seeing a boat matching its description downriver at an old warehouse dock.
That’s where we were headed, lights on and sirens off, speeding through the outskirts of the Hollows and beyond until we were at the edges of where even I wouldn’t go after dark. It wasn’t that the neighborhood was bad. It was that there was no neighborhood at all. Not after forty years of abandonment. Entire neighborhoods had been bulldozed under and left to go fallow when the survivors of the Turn fled to the cities. Cincy had been no exception.
Trees arched overhead, and I could tell that the river was close by the winding road and the occasional glimpses of silver water. I was up front with Edden, and Ivy was in the backseat with Ford. That she wanted to come had surprised me, until I realized her earlier words had been meant to quash her hope that Kisten might still be alive. Or undead. Or something.
Jenks was with her, working hard to keep her distracted and calm. It wasn’t working, if her black eyes and Ford’s growing nervousness were any indication. Putting them together might not have been a good idea, but I didn’t want to sit next to him either.
“There!” I exclaimed, pointing to the outline of an abandoned brick building peeking from behind huge, ancient trees. It had to be the place. We hadn’t seen anything but empty lots framed by large trees for half a mile. I tried to quell my nervousness even as I searched my feelings for having been here before. Nothing looked familiar. The hot morning sun glinted on the leaves and the river as we slowed and pulled into the weed-choked gravel drive. My heart gave a painful thud when I saw Kisten’s boat.