Dead End: Midnight Hollow Penn Cassidy (good books to read in english TXT) 📖

“It’s a gift and curse.” She shrugged. “It seems we both have some work to do on ourselves. Go to the Society meeting and find out why your parents looked so happy in that photo. It was obviously meant to be.” She gestured to the framed photo of Mom and Dad as they embraced each other, smiling.

“You’re right. I’ll go. I’m gonna get out of here. I think I’ll try raising the dead at least once. Maybe it will come to me eventually.” I pulled away, adding, “Oh, and the aunties want you at the house in a little bit for poisons and hexes lessons. And don’t think I didn’t see you using magic on those floating books.”

She could hardly look me in the eye as she fumbled with the strings on my black hoodie she was wearing. “Yeah, about that… Apparently, my magic is going haywire and is only activated when I’m, um, turned on or emotional. It’s hard getting used to this, Toby, but I’m trying.”

She bit her lips as she glanced away, and I knew it couldn’t be easy for her. She was a powerful witch who knew how to use the magic deep down, but was terrified of it.

“You’ll get the hang of it, I know it. Maybe Baen can help you.” I hid my smile behind my hand. I knew we were both going to be okay as she shoved me lightly, but she couldn't stop smiling either.

“Okay, get out of here because I’m sure by the time I find that sexy man, all the books will be floating in no time.” She giggled and hugged me quickly before skipping away like a love struck fool.

“Oh, Mads! Have you seen Jessica?!” I called out to her retreating back.

She turned, walking backwards to answer. “No, I haven’t, but I’m sure she’s just visiting all ten thousand of her cousins in the Hangry Forest.” She shuddered and waved over her shoulder as she left.

Maybe that was where she’d scurried off to. She did say she missed her family, but I found it strange she didn’t tell me she was leaving. Oh well, I hoped she came back soon, because I freaking missed her already. Now, where oh where to find a body that I didn’t have to dig up?

Mission accomplished.

Earlier in the day, the rain pelted my windows as I stared outside, perched on my desk chair, debating what to do about this pickle I seem to have found myself in. With my arms folded over my desktop, I gazed down at the picture of the orange haired gal that had caught the attention of a monster.

Why was he so obsessed with this broad? Was it because of her gift, which allowed her to raise the dead? Or was it something else I wasn’t seeing?

“Marionette, I’m not paying you to sit on your ass.” He was here, leaning against my office door frame without an appointment, and his lips were tight in displeasure under the hood covering his face.

He wasn’t paying me at all. He pulled my strings like any master does, but I would be damned if he tried to get me off my keester. I’d been working off the clock night and day, reporting back to him when he called. What’s a fella gotta do around here to find a new master that isn’t a complete boob?

“I want you to get this letter to Mari and be quick about it. Time is wasting. I’ve got a surprise I think she’ll want to see.” He slid a letter across my desk with a sly grin pulling at his lips, and I pocketed the envelope without looking.

“Mari?” I asked in confusion. This fella had me following the wrong gal this whole time?

His grin dropped. “I mean October. Just get it done!” He swirled away, his cape swishing, and he left as fast as he came.

I waited for the right time, the perfect time to give her the letter without her growing suspicious of me. I hid in plain sight and disappeared before she knew what hit her.

And that’s how you do it, folks. All in a day's work.

There's just something about a morgue that had you questioning how the hell you ended up there. Oh yeah, that’s right—to raise a freaking dead body and have a chat. Totally normal, no worries. No need to be scared. Just go inside the creepy room where they cut up bodies and store them in cold cubbies until they’re ready to be buried six feet under. No problem, I got this.

I don’t got this.

I stood outside the swinging double doors in the basement of the city morgue. The autopsy technician had taken his sweet time cleaning up, so I had to wait an hour before he left in a sudden hurry, his white lab coat billowing behind him as he ran towards the elevator.

With a deep breath, I pushed the steel doors open and stepped inside, not knowing what to expect. I took a moment to adjust to the low fluorescent lights and how cold it was. It felt like an ice box. Like a typical morgue, the floors were cement with blue specks embedded inside and the walls were white cinder blocks that made the room seem bigger, colder.

Three embalming tables were lined up in a row sitting in the middle of the space, with individual headlamps overhead, glaring off the shiny metal surfaces. Every few seconds, I could hear a drip of water splashing on the ground from the exposed pipes above. One must have been leaking. This was definitely the right place to store a body that wasn’t too juicy.

Ew, I can’t believe I just thought that. ‘Juicy’ is just as bad as the word ‘moist.’

I wrapped my arms around myself to ward off the chill and scanned the room, spotting the selection of cubby