Page 21 of Death Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

I pressed my forehead to the cool window for a second. The glass vibrated with road noise.

I turned toward the driver’s seat. “Do you think Andel will help?”

“Yes,” Faith said, without hesitation.

I blinked. “That was confident.”

Faith’s eyes stayed on the road. “He respects Eve. He doesn’t like Lucinda. He doesn’t like Caton. He doesn’t like being dragged into council games. But he won’t ignore this.”

Eve nodded slowly. “He and I… we’ve dealt with each other. He’s not cruel. He’s just careful.”

I glanced at Eve. “Careful sounds great. I would love careful right now.”

Faith made a low sound. “Careful people are the ones who survive.”

We drove past a group of mundanes gathered outside a coffee shop, of all places. Someone clutched a latte like caffeine could shield them from the undead. A man waved his arms, talking animatedly, his phone held high.

Eve’s voice was quiet. “They’re going to spread this everywhere.”

“I know,” I said. “And at some point someone is going to say it’s fake, and someone else is going to say it’s real, and they’ll fight about it until the truth gets buried.”

Faith’s mouth tightened. “Good. Let them fight. As long as they stop running into the street.”

I swallowed, because I could still see that corpse in my mind. The way it moved like it was pulled. The way it recovered too fast. The way my magic had hit it and it barely cared.

Normal undead did not do that.

We turned onto an industrial stretch, away from the prettier parts of town, away from boutiques and cafés and restaurants that pretended Ravenholde was charming instead of dangerous. Here, the buildings were squat and practical. Old brick. Metal siding. Faded signs.

Faith slowed as we approached a converted warehouse. The kind of place you would expect to find a mechanic, a welder, or a man who made questionable life choices in the name of art.

A single light hung over the main door. The glow was harsh, illuminating the painted numbers on the wall and the glint of metal stacked inside through a grimy window.

“This is it,” Faith said.

My stomach tightened. “It looks welcoming.”

Eve snorted softly. “That’s the point. People don’t bother you when you look like you might have bodies in barrels.”

“Comforting,” I muttered.

Faith parked near the curb, engine still running. “Stay alert.”

I nodded, even though my alertness was already maxed out. If it went higher, I was going to start vibrating.

We got out.

The air smelled different here. Oil and metal. A tang like burned stone. The kind of scent that clung to your clothes and refused to leave.

Faith walked up first, hand near her belt, posture controlled. Eve followed, shoulders squared, expression neutral. I trailed behind them, because if I went first, I would probably trip and die of embarrassment before the undead could get me.

Faith knocked once. Hard.

A pause.

Then the door opened.

Andel Laine filled the doorway like a wall.