The server’s eyes widened at our current state of disarray.
“We got a flat tire. And of course, it all happened during a thunderstorm,” Lyra said with absolute fucking sunshine that refused to be dulled, no matter the situation. Even as she sat soaking wet and covered in mud.
“Oh, that’s some bad luck,” the young girl said taking out her ticket book and pen. “Are you ready to order?” the young girl asked.
“Umm…” Lyra’s eyes widened as she flipped the menu over for the hundredth time.
“I can give you another minute if you’d like.”
“I’ll just take a cup of coffee,” I said, handing the server my menu.
“I’ll have one too. And a bowl of chowder and a slice of cinnamon pie.”
“Okay, let me check to see if we have any pie left.”
Lyra’s face fell as the server walked away, but she returned quickly.
“We still have a few slices.” She set two mugs in front of us and filled them both to the brim with steaming coffee.
“Thank goodness. We’ll take two.” Lyra let out a sigh of relief. A wide, toothy smile split her lips. She smiled so often, I had started to note the different meanings of each one. The toothy grin she currently wore was one of my favorites because it was genuine.
Lyra took a hesitant sip and choked out, “wow, the coffee will grow some hair on your chest, but at least it’s hot.” She wrapped her hands around the mug, letting the steam waft into her face.
We both stared into our mug, letting the quiet stretch on. My mind raced with all the possibilities for why the grave was empty.
The clank of plates redirected my attention. The waitress set down a bowl the size of Lyra’s head filled to the brim with clam chowder and two large slices of pie.
“Can I get you two anything else?” She refilled our mugs with a hot shot of coffee.
“Nope, I think we’re good,” Lyra said, crushing crackers to dump into her soup.
“Just give me a holler if you need anything else.” She sauntered back to the kitchen. We were the only patrons in the dining area. All the other guests sat at the bar.
“So… An empty grave.” Lyra blew on a steaming spoonful of soup before slurping it down.
“Things just got a hell of a lot more complicated.” I rubbed my palms over my eyes.
“And way more personal.”
I nodded. Still reeling from the discovery.
“How does Devin fit into all this. What game is he playing?” My voice rose. Everyone at the counter turned their attention tous. I bared my teeth, hissing, at the man wearing an old trucker hat. His eyes widened, and he went back to stuffing his mouth full of pancakes.
“And why is it all happening now?” Lyra added, finishing the final spoonful of her soup and immediately starting on her pie. “This is delicious,” she said casually between bites, like we weren’t in the middle of a conversation about murders and sacrifices.
“All Hallows’ Eve is right around the corner. It’s the day when the veil between the worlds is thinnest. And by the spirits’ recent unruly activities, they’re involved in all this shit, too.”
Lyra’s ice-cold hand grabbed mine, coaxing it open until she could lace our fingers together. “It’s time we remove that damn collar.”
CHAPTER 27
GREY
People said love blinds, but it must have ripped my fucking eyes out.
The words on the page blurred as the memories of the past came rushing back. I felt hollow, like I’d disturbed something that I should have left untouched.
“Grams warned us about using magic like this,” Lyra whispered softly as she looked up from Veda’s spellbook. “Death shouldn’t be exploited.”
