Chapters (52)
- Dedication
- Acknowledgments
- Contents
- Prologue
- 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
- Epilogue
- An excerpt from Halfway to the Grave
- An excerpt from One Foot in the Grave
- An excerpt from At Grave’s End
- An excerpt from Destined for an Early Grave
- An excerpt from This Side of the Grave
- An excerpt from One Grave at a Time
- About the Author
- By Jeaniene Frost
- Copyright
- About the Publisher
I left the silo. In front of the third one down, Bones, Dave, Spade, and Denise formed a circle around what had to be Madigan. As I approached, I noted with distracted amusement that my best friend’s cheeks were pink and she stared straight ahead and nowhere else.
“. . . not trifling with you,” Bones was saying in his sternest tone. “The sooner you realize that, the less painful this will be.”
“Hungry!” was the petulant response he received.
I pushed through the group to see Madigan. When I did, I stared in disbelief.
It wasn’t his disheveled appearance—the phrase “wouldn’t be caught dead” was accurate because no one woke up from the grave looking fabulous. Madigan actually looked better than most since he’d died from poisoning instead of something messier. So it wasn’t his red-stained chest, open shirt, or dirty suit that rocked me where I stood.
It was his gaze. I was used to seeing so many things in his sky blue eyes: contempt, arrogance, ruthlessness, cold satisfaction, blind ambition . . . Now, all I saw was confusion and curiosity, as if he didn’t know who all of us were, but he was mildly interested in finding out.
“Hungry, hungry, hungry,” he chirped while bobbing his head as if listening to an internal sound track.
This was only the second ghoul rebirth I’d witnessed, but from the tense expressions on Bones’s and Spade’s faces, this wasn’t normal. What was wrong with him?
“Bones?” I asked quietly.
He stroked my arm once but didn’t answer. To Madigan, he said, “Well done, mate. Clever of you to fake insanity, but I’ve been doing this for hundreds of years, so I know you’re not crazy. You’re scared shiteless, and you should be, for if you don’t stop pretending, I’m going to hurt you in ways you can’t imagine.”
No spark of acknowledgment lit in Madigan’s gaze, but his thin lips pursed.
“Huuuuunnnnggggrrryyyyyy,” he drew out, as though annoyed that we hadn’t understood him before.
Bones punched him so hard that Madigan’s head left a red smear where it smacked against the silo. Then the gray-haired man lolled in his grip when Bones hauled him up by his tattered jacket.
“Enjoy that?” Bones bit out. “I did. Let me show you how much.”