Page 32 of Grave Consequences

JUDE

I had just raised the dead. Again.

Was there a limit on oopsies as a necromancer?

They held the guy firm, bony fingers wrapped around his wrists, his ankles, his shoulders. I waited for the horror to begin, waited for them to tear him apart. But they didn’t. They just held him. Like macabre manacles.

At least murder zombies aren’t my default. Small victories.

I winced as pressure throbbed at the back of my skull, building until an energy hummed from the tip of my spine all the way through my ribs. From pulling the zombies?

Wait. What was that smell? Ozone. Electricity. Like the air just before a brutal thunderstorm.

I turned, my gaze locked on the sky above the buildings, and the horror cutting through it like a nightmare.

For half a heartbeat, I was grateful it wasn’t some giant Cthulhu-type monster wriggling its way free. But that was the only positive as the jagged wound of violet energy pulsed with flashes of lightning through the clouds, stretching over rooftops and engulfing the distance in the largest tear I’d ever seen in my life. The edges shimmered. Frayed. Grew.

“Fuck me,” I cursed.

How long before it overtook buildings full of people? Or freed monsters into our world?

Nat gaped at the tear, his hand still on my arm. I yanked myself free and raced toward the rip.

Did I think I could singlehandedly close this giant tear even though I was the one who caused it?

Nope.

Did that mean I wasn’t willing to try?

Also, nope.

I was nothing if not stubborn. And stupid. Possibly both. Definitely both.

The streets blurred past. Rain slicked the pavement, and the pull in my chest guided me like a compass pointing home.

The fact that Zhenjun was waiting for me when I slid to a stop at the edge of the warehouse, the eye of the growing tear, didn’t surprise me at all. He stood with his arms crossed, expression carved from stone. He looked pissed.